Dodds put her arm out so she could take a closer look. ‘Local stones. I wash them and varnish them. I think they act a little like crystals.’

‘Positive energy?’ Jean guessed. Rebus could no longer tell if she was genuinely interested or just faking it. ‘Could I buy one, do you think?’

‘Of course,’ Dodds said delightedly. Her hair was windswept, cheeks red from the walk she’d just taken. She slid one of the bracelets from her wrist. ‘How about this? It’s one of my favourites, and just ten pounds.’

Jean paused at mention of the price, but then smiled and handed over a ten-pound note, which Dodds tucked into her pocket.

‘Ms Burchill works at the museum,’ Rebus said.

‘Really?’

‘I’m a curator.’ Jean had slipped the bracelet on to her wrist.

‘What a wonderful job. Whenever I’m in town, I try to make time for a visit.’

‘Have you heard of the Arthur’s Seat coffins?’ Rebus asked.

‘Steve told me about them,’ Dodds said. Rebus presumed she meant Steve Holly, the reporter.

‘Ms Burchill has an interest in them,’ Rebus said. ‘She’d like to see the doll you found.’

‘Of course.’ She slid open one of the drawers and brought out the coffin. Jean handled it with care, placing it on the kitchen table before examining it.

‘It’s quite well made,’ she said. ‘More like the Arthur’s Seat coffins than those others.’

‘“Others”?’ Bev Dodds asked.

‘Is it a copy of one of them?’ Rebus asked, ignoring this.

‘Not an exact copy, no,’ Jean said. ‘Different nails, and constructed slightly differently, too.’

‘By someone who’d seen the museum exhibit?’

‘It’s possible. You can buy a postcard of the coffins in the museum shop.’

Rebus looked at Jean. ‘Has anyone shown interest in the exhibit recently?’

‘How would I know that?’

‘Maybe a researcher or someone?’

She shook her head. ‘There was a doctoral student last year … but she went back to Toronto.’

‘Is there some connection here?’ Bev Dodds asked, wide-eyed. ‘Something between the museum and the abduction?’

‘We don’t know that anyone’s been abducted,’ Rebus cautioned her.

‘All the same …’

‘Ms Dodds … Bev …’ Rebus fixed her with his eyes. ‘It’s important that this conversation stays confidential.’

When she nodded understanding, Rebus knew that within minutes of them leaving, she’d be on the phone to Steve Holly. He left his tea unfinished.

‘We’d better be off.’ Jean took the hint, and placed her own cup on the draining-board. ‘That was lovely, thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. And thank you for buying the bracelet. My third sale today.’

As they walked back up the lane, two cars passed them. Day-trippers, Rebus guessed, on their way to the waterfall. And afterwards, maybe they’d stop by the pottery, asking to see the famous coffin. They’d probably buy something too …