‘The human body is a fascinating machine,’ Curt was saying. ‘You only really get a sense of that post mortem. A hospital surgeon will concentrate on one particular area of the body, but we have the luxury of unlimited access.’

Siobhan’s look said she wished he’d stop being so remorselessly cheery on the subject. ‘It’s an old building,’ she remarked.

‘Not that old really, in the context of the university. The medical school was based at Old College in earlier times.’

‘That’s where they took Burke’s body?’ Rebus added.

‘Yes, after he was hanged. A tunnel led into Old College. The bodies were all brought in that way – by dead of night in some cases.’ He looked to Siobhan. ‘The Resurrection Men.’

‘Good name for a band.’

He graced her flippancy with a scowl. ‘Body-snatchers,’ he said.

‘And the skin was flayed from Burke’s body?’ Rebus went on.

‘You know a bit about it.’

‘I didn’t until recently. Does the tunnel still exist?’

‘Part of it.’

‘I’d be interested to see it sometime.’

‘Devlin’s your man.’

‘Is he?’

‘Unofficial historian of the medical faculty’s early days. He’s written pamphlets on the subject … self-published, but pretty enlightening.’

‘I didn’t know that. I know he knows a bit about Burke and Hare. He has a theory that Dr Kennet Lovell placed the coffins on Arthur’s Seat.’

‘Ah, the ones that’ve been in the papers of late?’ Curt frowned in thought. ‘Lovell? Well, who’s to say he isn’t right?’ He broke off and frowned again. ‘Funny you should mention Lovell actually.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Claire told me recently she’s descended from him.’ There was a sound of movement from inside. ‘Ah, Dr Easton’s finished. They’ll all filter out this way; we’d better stand back, lest we’re stampeded to death.’

‘They’re keen then?’ Siobhan said.

‘Keen to be back in the fresh air, yes.’

Only a few of the students bothered to glance in their direction. Those who did seemed to know who Curt was, some acknowledging him with a bow, smile or word. Finally, with the hall three-quarters empty, Curt went up on to his toes.

‘Claire? Could you spare a minute?’

She was tall and thin with short blonde hair and a long straight nose. Her eyes were an almost oriental shape, like tilted almonds. She carried two folders beneath one arm. There was a mobile phone in her hand. She’d been studying it on her way out of the lecture theatre: checking for messages perhaps. She came forwards with a smile.

‘Hello, Dr Curt.’ Her voice was almost playful.

‘Claire, these police officers would like a word.’

‘It’s about Flip, isn’t it?’ Her face had fallen, all humour lost to it, and the voice had taken on a sombre tone.

Siobhan nodded slowly. ‘A few follow-up questions.’