‘I’m going to find whoever did this. Don’t think I won’t. Don’t think you can trust Mr Steven Holly to protect you. He doesn’t care a damn for you. If you want to stay buried, you’ll have to feed him more stories, and more, and more! He’s not going to let you rise back up to the world you knew before. You’re different now. You’re a mole. His mole. And he’ll never let you rest, never let you forget it.’

A glance in Gill Templer’s direction. She was standing by the wall, arms folded, her own eyes scanning the room.

‘I know this probably all sounds like the headmaster’s warning. Some pupil’s smashed a window or daubed graffiti on the bike sheds.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m talking to all of you like this because it’s important we’re clear on what’s at stake. Talk might not cost lives, but that doesn’t mean it should be squandered. Careful what you say, who you say it to. If the person responsible wants to come forward, that’s fine. You can do it now, or later. I’ll be here for an hour or so, and I can always be reached at my office. Think what’s at stake if you don’t. Not part of a team any more, not on the side of the angels. But in a journalist’s pocket. For as long as he wants you there.’ This final pause seemed to last an eternity, nobody coughed or cleared their throat. Carswell slid his hands into his pockets, head angled as though inspecting his shoes. ‘DCS Templer?’ he said.

And now Gill Templer stepped forward, and the room relaxed a little.

‘Don’t go getting the holiday mood just yet!’ she called out. ‘Okay, there’s been a leak to the press, and what we need now is some damage limitation. Nobody talks to anybody unless they run it past me first, understood?’ There were murmurs of assent.

Templer went on, but Rebus wasn’t listening. He hadn’t wanted to listen to Carswell either, but it had been hard to block the man out. Impressive stuff really. He’d even put some thought into the image of the garden mole, almost making it work without becoming laughable.

But mostly Rebus’s attention had been on the people around him. Gill and Bill Pryde were distant figures, whose discomfort he could almost ignore. Bill’s big chance to shine; Gill’s first major inquiry as a DCS. Hardly what either of them would have wanted …