‘I haven’t got them yet. They’re from Glasgow and Nairn. Maybe if you were to put in a request, it would push things along.’

Gates looked around the group. ‘See what I mean?’

‘University duties, John,’ Curt said. ‘More students and coursework, fewer people to do the teaching.’

‘I appreciate that …’ Rebus began.

Gates lifted his cummerbund and pointed to the pager hidden there. ‘Even tonight, we could get a call, another body to deal with.’

‘I don’t think you’re winning them over,’ Leary said, laughing.

Rebus fixed Gates with a hard look. ‘I’m serious,’ he said.

‘So am I. First night off I’ve had in ages, and you’re after one of your famous “favours”.’

Rebus decided there was no point pushing it, not when Gates was in a mood. Hard day at the office maybe, but then weren’t they all?

Devlin cleared his throat. ‘Might I perhaps … ?’

Leary slapped Devlin’s back. ‘There you are, John. A willing victim!’

‘I know I’ve been retired a good few years, but I don’t suppose the theory and practice have changed.’

Rebus looked at him. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘the most recent case is nineteen eighty-two.’

‘Donald was still wielding the scalpel in eighty-two,’ Gates said. Devlin acknowledged this truth with a small bow.

Rebus hesitated. He wanted someone with a bit of clout, someone like Gates.

‘Motion carried,’ Curt said, deciding the matter for him.

Siobhan Clarke sat in her living room watching TV. She’d tried cooking herself a proper dinner, but had given up halfway through chopping the red peppers, putting everything in the fridge and pulling a ready-meal from the freezer. The empty container was on the floor in front of her. She sat on the sofa with her legs tucked under her, head resting on one arm. The laptop was on the coffee table, but she’d unhooked her mobile phone. She didn’t think Quizmaster would be calling again. She lifted her notepad and stared at the clue. She’d gone through dozens of sheets of paper, working out possible anagrams and meanings. Seven fins high is king … and mentions of the queen and ‘the bust’: it sounded like something from a card game, but the compendium of card games she’d borrowed from the Central Library hadn’t been any help. She was just wondering if she should read it through a final time when her phone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s Grant.’

Siobhan turned the sound down on the TV. ‘What’s up?’

‘I think maybe I’ve cracked it.’

Siobhan swivelled her legs so her feet were on the floor. ‘Tell me,’ she said.

‘I’d rather show you.’

There seemed to be a lot of background noise on the line. She stood up. ‘Are you on your mobile?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Parked right outside.’

She walked over to the window and looked out. Sure enough, his Alfa was sitting in the middle of the street. Siobhan smiled. ‘Find a parking space then. My buzzer’s second from the top.’