On Monday morning, Rebus took Jean’s press cuttings in to work. Waiting for him on his desk were three messages from Steve Holly and a note in Gill Templer’s handwriting, informing him of a doctor’s appointment at eleven o’clock. He went to her office to plead his case, but a sheet of paper on her door stated that she would be spending the day at Gayfield Square. Rebus went back to his chair, grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, and headed for the car park. He’d just got one lit when Siobhan Clarke arrived.

‘Any luck?’ he asked her. Siobhan lifted the laptop she was carrying.

‘Last night,’ she told him.

‘What happened?’

She looked at his cigarette. ‘Soon as you finish that foul thing, come upstairs and I’ll show you.’

The door swung shut behind her. Rebus stared at the cigarette, took one last puff, and flicked it on to the ground.

By the time he got to the CID room, Siobhan had set up the laptop. An officer called over that there was a Steve Holly on the line. Rebus shook his head. He knew damned well what Holly wanted: Bev Dodds had told him about the trip to Falls. He held up a finger, asking Siobhan to wait a second, then got on the phone to the museum.

‘Jean Burchill’s office, please,’ he said. Then he waited.

‘Hello?’ It was her voice.

‘Jean? John Rebus here.’

‘John, I was just thinking of calling you.’

‘Don’t tell me: you’re being hassled?’

‘Well, not exactly hassled …’

‘A reporter called Steve Holly, wanting to talk about the dolls?’

‘He’s been on to you too, then?’

‘Best advice I can give, Jean: don’t say anything. Refuse his calls, and if he does get through, tell him you’ve nothing to say. No matter how hard he pushes …’

‘Understood. Did Bev Dodds blab?’

‘My fault, I should’ve known she would.’

‘I can look after myself, John, don’t worry.’

They said their goodbyes and he put down the receiver, took the short walk to Siobhan’s desk and read the message on the laptop’s screen.

This game is not a game. It’s a quest. You’ll need strength and endurance, not to mention intelligence. But your prize will be great. Do you still wish to play?

‘I sent back an e-mail saying I was interested, but asking how long the game would take.’ Siobhan was moving her finger across the keypad. ‘He told me it could take a few days, or a few weeks. So then I asked if I could start with Hellbank. He came back straight away, telling me Hellbank was the fourth level, and I’d have to play the whole thing. I said okay. At midnight, this arrived.’

There was another message on the screen. ‘He’s used a different address,’ Siobhan said. ‘God knows how many he’s got.’