‘I don’t know why you kept going back to her, David, or what you thought the game would prove, but one thing I do know: you never loved her. What you wanted was to control her.’ She nodded at the truth of this.

‘Some people like to be controlled, Siobhan.’ His eyes were staring into hers. ‘Don’t you?’

She thought for a moment … or tried to think. Opened her mouth and was about to speak, but a noise interrupted. He snapped his head round: two men approaching. And two more fifty yards beyond them. He turned slowly back to Siobhan.

‘I’m disappointed in you.’

She was shaking her head. ‘Not my doing.’

He leaped from the headstone, hurtled towards the wall, his hands reaching the top, feet scrabbling for purchase. The detectives were running now, one yelling, ‘Stop him!’ Siobhan just watched, rooted to the spot. Quizmaster … she’d given him her word … One of his feet had found a half-inch of ledge, pushing up …

Siobhan threw herself at the wall, grabbed the other leg with both hands and pulled. He tried kicking her off, but she held on, one hand reaching up towards his jacket, trying to haul him back. Then they were both flying backwards, his the only cry. His sunglasses seemed to float past her in slow motion. She was watching them when she hit the ground. He landed heavily on top of her, the air exploding from her lungs. She felt pain as her head connected with the grass. Costello was on his feet and running, but two of the officers had him, wrestled him back on to the ground. He managed to slide his head round so he was looking at Siobhan, the two of them only a couple of yards apart. Hatred filled his face, and he spat in her direction. The saliva hit her on the chin and hung there. Suddenly she didn’t have the strength to wipe it off …

Jean was asleep, but the doctor assured Rebus she’d be fine: cuts and bruises, ‘nothing time can’t heal’.

‘I very much doubt that,’ he told the doctor.

Ellen Wylie was there by the bedside. Rebus walked over and stood beside her. ‘I wanted to say thanks,’ he told her.

‘For what?’

‘Helping break down Devlin’s door, for one thing. I’d never have done it on my own.’

Her reply was a shrug. ‘How’s the ankle?’ she asked.

‘Ballooning nicely, thank you.’

‘A week or two on the sick,’ she said.

‘Maybe more, if I swallowed any of the Water of Leith.’

‘I hear Devlin took a good few gulps himself.’ She stared at him. ‘Got a good story prepared?’

He smiled. ‘You offering to tell a lie or two on my behalf ?’

‘Just say the word.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Problem is, a dozen witnesses could say otherwise.’

‘But will they?’

‘We’ll just have to wait and see,’ Rebus said.