‘I hope so.’

Rebus thinking back to Ulster and the ‘Mean Machine’ ...

Levy’s book didn’t prove anything. All Rebus knew was that Josef Linzstek’s name was on a list as having used the Rat Line, posing as a Pole. But where had the list originated? In Israel. Again, it was highly speculative. It wasn’t proof.

And if Rebus’s instincts told him Lintz and Linzstek were one and the same, they were still failing to tell him whether it mattered.

He dropped the book back to the Roxburghe, asked the receptionist to see that Mr Levy got it.

‘I think he’s in his room, if you’d like to ...’

Rebus shook his head. He hadn’t left any message with the book, knowing Levy might interpret this as a message in itself. He went home for his car, drove down to Haymarket and along to Shandon. As usual, parking near Sammy’s flat was a problem. Everyone was home from work and tucked in front of their televisions. He climbed the stone steps, wondering how treacherous they’d get when the frosts came, and rang the bell. Sammy herself led him into the living room, where Candice was watching a game show.

‘Hello, John,’ she said. ‘Are you my wonderwall?’

‘I’m nobody’s wonderwall, Candice.’

He turned to Sammy. ‘Everything all right?’

‘Just fine.’

At that moment, Ned Farlowe walked in from the kitchen. He was eating soup from a bowl, dunking a folded slice of brown bread into it.

‘Mind if I have a word?’ Rebus said.

Farlowe shook his head, then jerked it in the direction of the kitchen.

‘Can I eat while we talk? I’m starving.’

He sat down at the foldaway table, got another slice of bread from the packet and spread margarine on it. Sammy put her head round the doorway, saw the look on her father’s face, and made a tactical retreat. The kitchen was about seven foot square and too full of pots and appliances. Swinging a cat, you could have done a lot of damage.

‘I saw you today,’ Rebus said, ‘skulking in Warriston Cemetery. Coincidence?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I’m asking you.’

Rebus leaned his back against the sink unit, folded his arms.

‘I’m watching Lintz.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m being paid to.’

‘By a newspaper?’

‘Lintz’s lawyer has interim interdicts flying around. Nobody can afford to be seen near him.’

‘But they still want him watched?’

‘If there’s a court case coming, they want to know as much as possible, stands to reason.’

By court case, Farlowe didn’t mean any trial of Lintz, but rather of the newspapers themselves, for libel.

‘If he catches you ...’

‘He doesn’t know me from Adam. Besides, there’d always be somebody to take my place. Now do I get to ask a question?’

‘Let me say something first. You know I’m investigating Lintz?’

Farlowe nodded. ‘That means we’re too close. If you find out anything, people might think it came from me.’

‘I haven’t told Sammy what I’m doing, specifically so there’s no conflict of interests.’