And, come to that, jobless.

He’d been expecting phone calls, and eventually one came. It was Gill Templer.

Her opening words: ‘You stupid bastard.’

‘Hi there, Gill.’

‘You could have kept your mouth shut.’

‘I suppose I could.’

‘Always the willing martyr, eh, John?’ She sounded angry, tired and under pressure. He could see reasons for all three.

‘I just told the truth,’ he said.

‘That would be a first … not that I believe it for a minute.’

‘No?’

‘Come on, John. Ellen Wylie practically had “guilty” stamped on her forehead.’

‘You think I was shielding her?’

‘I don’t exactly take you for Sir Galahad. You’ll have had your reasons. Maybe it was simply to piss off Carswell; you know he hates your guts.’

Rebus didn’t like to concede that she might be right. ‘How’s everything else?’ he asked.

Her anger was played out. ‘Liaison’s snowed under. I’m giving a helping hand.’

Rebus bet she was busy: all the other papers and media, trying to play catch-up with Steve Holly.

‘What about you?’ she asked.

‘What about me?’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘Well …’

‘I’d better let you get back, Gill. Thanks for calling.’

‘Bye, John.’

As he put the phone down, it started ringing again. Grant Hood this time.

‘I just wanted to thank you for getting us off the hook like that.’

‘You weren’t on the hook, Grant.’

‘I was, believe me.’

‘I hear you’re busy.’

‘How … ?’ Grant paused. ‘Oh, DCS Templer’s been on to you.’

‘Is she helping out or taking over?’

‘Hard to say at the minute.’

‘She’s not in the room with you, is she?’

‘No, she’s in her own office. When we came out of that meeting with the ACC … she was the one who looked most relieved.’

‘Maybe because she has the most to lose, Grant. You probably can’t see that right now, but it’s true.’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’ But he didn’t sound convinced that his own survival wasn’t more important in the scheme of things.

‘Off you go, Grant, and thanks for finding the time to call.’

‘See you around some time.’

‘You never know your luck …’

Rebus put the phone down and waited, staring at it. But no more calls came. He went to the kitchen to make a mug of tea, and discovered he was out of tea-bags and milk. Without bothering with a jacket, he headed downstairs and out to the local deli, where he added some ham, rolls and mustard to the shopping. Back at the main door to the tenement, someone was trying one of the buzzers.

‘Come on, I know you’re there …’

‘Hello, Siobhan.’

She turned towards him. ‘Christ, you gave me a …’ She put a hand to her throat. Rebus stretched an arm past her and unlocked the door.

‘Because I sneaked up on you, or because you thought I was sitting upstairs with my wrists slashed?’ He held the door open for her.