‘Go on, take a wild stab, because that’s what I’m going to take at you next time I see you.’

‘The cemetery?’ Holly said.

‘That your final answer? Maybe you want to phone a friend.’

Holly felt his anger rise: best defence was attack, right? ‘Look,’ he hissed, ‘I’ve just given your paper the story of the year, scooped every competitor you’ve got, bar none. And this is how you go and treat me? Well, stuff your miserable paper and stuff you. Get someone else out here to cover the funeral, someone who knows the story the way I do. Meantime I think maybe I’ll be making a couple of calls to the competition – on my time, my phone bill. If that’s okay with you, you chiselling bastard. And if you want to know why I’m not at the cemetery, I’ll tell you. It’s because I’ve been stopped by a couple of Lothian’s finest. They won’t let me shake them off now I’ve gone and shat on them in print. You want the patrol car’s licence plate? Give me a second, maybe they’ll speak to you themselves!’

Holly shut up, but made sure he was breathing hard into the mouthpiece.

‘For once,’ the voice from Glasgow eventually said, ‘and maybe they should carve this on my tombstone, I think I may actually have heard Steve Holly tell the truth.’ There was another pause, and then a chuckle. ‘We’ve got them worried then?’

We … Steve Holly knew he was home and dry.

‘I’ve got what looks like a permanent escort, just in case I’m thinking of taking a hand off the wheel to pick my nose.’

‘So you’re not driving as we speak?’

‘Up on the verge, indicators going. And, with all due respect, boss, that’s another five minutes I’ve just wasted talking to you … Not that I don’t always enjoy our little tête-à-têtes.’

Another chuckle. ‘Ah, fuck it, bit of steam needs to be let off now and then, eh? Tell you what, put that hotel through to accounts, okay?’

‘Right, boss.’

‘And get your raggedy arse back on the road.’

‘Ten-four, boss. This is the shining sword of truth, signing off.’ Holly cut the call, exhaled heavily, and did what he’d been told to do: got his raggedy arse back on that road …