‘Do that, will you?’ Rebus repeated the names and ended the call. He smoked a cigarette, staring across at a new pub on the opposite corner. He knew one drink wouldn’t do him any harm. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be seeing the doctor. Hell, it would have to wait. He could always make another appointment. When, at cigarette’s end, Hogan hadn’t called back, Rebus returned to his desk and started going through the editions for May ’82. When his mobile sounded, the staff and readers gave a look of collective horror. Rebus cursed and put the phone to his ear, getting up from his seat to head outside again.

‘It’s me,’ Hogan said.

‘Go ahead,’ Rebus whispered, moving towards the exit.

‘Rosshall Park’s in Pollok, south-west of the city centre. White Cart Water runs along the top of it.’

Rebus stopped in his tracks. ‘You sure?’ His voice was no longer a whisper.

‘It’s what I’m told.’

Rebus was back at his desk. The Herald cutting was just below the one from the Courier. He eased it out, just to be sure.

‘Thanks, Bobby,’ he said, ending the call. People around him were making exasperated noises, but he didn’t pay them any heed. ‘Church Condemns Sick Joke Find’: the coffin found in the churchyard. The church itself located on Potterhill Road.

In Pollok.

‘I don’t suppose you’d care to explain yourself,’ Gill Templer said.

Rebus had driven to Gayfield Square and asked her for five minutes. They were back in the same stale office.

‘That’s just what I want to do,’ Rebus told her. He placed a hand to his forehead. His face felt like it was burning.

‘You were supposed to be attending a doctor’s appointment.’

‘Something came up. Christ, you’re not going to believe it.’

She stabbed a finger at the tabloid newspaper open on her desk. ‘Any idea how Steve Holly got hold of this?’

Rebus turned the paper so it was facing him. Holly couldn’t have had much time, but he’d patched together a story which managed to mention the Arthur’s Seat coffins, a ‘local expert from the Museum of Scotland’, the Falls coffin, and the ‘persistent rumour that more coffins exist’.

‘What does he mean, “more coffins”?’ Gill asked.