‘I don’t know.’

He tried stifling a yawn.

‘Too early in the morning for big questions?’

He smiled. ‘Something like that. Thanks for your help, Miriam.’

‘No problem. Keep me posted.’

‘Sure. Anything new on Tarawicz?’

‘Nothing I’ve heard. No sign of Candice either, sorry.’

‘Thanks again.’

“Bye.’

Curt was standing in the doorway. He’d stripped off gown and gloves, and his hands smelled of soap.

‘Not much I can do till my assistants get in.’

He looked at his watch. ‘Fancy a spot of breakfast?’

‘You have to appreciate how this looks, John. The media could be all over us. I can think of a few journalists who’d give their drinking arm to nail you.’

Chief Superintendent Watson was in his element. Seated behind his desk, hands folded, he had the serenity of a large stone Buddha. The occasional crises with which John Rebus presented him had hardened the Farmer to life’s lesser knocks and taught him calm acceptance.

‘You’re going to suspend me,’ Rebus stated with conviction he’d been here before. He finished the coffee his boss had given him, but kept his hands locked around the mug. ‘Then you’re going to open an investigation.’

‘Not straight away,’ Watson surprised him by saying. ‘What I want first of all is your statement - and I mean a full and frank explanation - of your recent movements, your interest in Mr. Matsumoto and Thomas Telford. Bring in anything you want about your daughter’s accident, any suspicions you’ve had, and above all the validity of those suspicions. Telford already has a lawyer asking awkward questions about our Japanese friend’s untimely end. The lawyer ...’

Watson looked to Gill Templer, seated by the door, mouth a thin unimpressed line.

‘Charles Groal,’ she said flatly.

‘Groal, yes. He’s been asking at the casino. He got a description of a man who came in just after Matsumoto, and left immediately after him. He seems to think it’s you.’

‘Are you telling him otherwise?’ Rebus asked.

‘We’re telling him nothing, not until our own inquiries have established ... et cetera. But I can’t hold him off forever, John.’

‘Have you asked anyone what Matsumoto was doing here?’

‘He works for a firm of management consultants. He was here at a client’s behest, finalising the takeover of a country club.’

‘With Tommy Telford in tow.’

‘John, let’s not lose sight of ...’

‘Matsumoto was a member of the Yakuza, sir. The closest I’ve come to one of those before has been on a TV screen. Now suddenly they’re in Edinburgh.’ Rebus paused. ‘Don’t you find that just a wee bit curious? I mean, doesn’t it worry you at all? I don’t know, maybe I’m getting my priorities all wring, but it seems to me we’re splashing about in puddles while a tidal wave’s coming in!’ The pressure of his hands around the mug had been increasing by degrees. Now the thing broke, a piece falling to the floor as Rebus winced. He picked one ceramic shard out of his palm. Drops of blood hit the carpet. Gill Templer had come forward, was reaching for his hand.