Jean nodded. ‘I hope she’s all right. When I think back, I realize that Mary disappearing was terrible for all of us, but for a child Karen’s age, who didn’t understand what men were capable of, it must have been the end of innocence.’

The air outside had sharpened. McNab breathed it in, trying to clear his head. Someone was still on duty at the locus, just one vehicle left outside the door. Tomorrow there would be house-to-house enquiries, just like there had been all those years ago.

Back then they’d started out with hope. The golden hour they called it, when everything was fresh in people’s minds. The hour immediately after a child disappeared. The hour in which they held out hope that the child would be found alive and returned to their family.

There had been no golden hour result in the case of the missing Mary McIntyre and no peace for her traumatized friend. Not then. Not now.

As he climbed in the car, McNab realized he was already too late to meet Ellie at the Rock Cafe as arranged. He would have to text her, blame the fact that he’d had a call-out. In that moment, McNab knew he couldn’t be bothered excusing himself or explaining.

He was a detective, that was the job, and Ellie should know that by now. His silence, of course, might mean that she didn’t come back to his place tonight.

Did he mind?

He realized he didn’t but couldn’t explain why. If he went home alone, he would be free to brood. Maybe even take the whisky bottle out of the kitchen cupboard. McNab contemplated that thought for a moment, before switching to an image of himself in the shower. Hot and at full blast.

As for food, he could pick up a fish supper on the way. He sent Ellie a brief text, Out on a murder case, then headed for home.

46

Rhona stood at the door listening.

The faint aroma of something delicious had met her on the stairs. Being so late, she doubted there was the remotest chance the dinner party wasn’t yet over. That they were extending it, in expectation of her imminent return.

The silence that met her suggested Liam had departed for his parents’ house. As for Sean, since she hadn’t returned his calls, he had likely gone back to his own flat.

Part of her was disappointed and part of her was relieved that she wouldn’t have to make conversation with either of the men in her private life. McNab she could have managed, since they’d just shared a crime scene. Even Magnus would have taken little effort.

Arriving back in the real world, when you’ve just been at the scene of a brutal murder, wasn’t dissimilar to a soldier coming home from the front line. You needed time to switch clothes and your mindset.

Rhona slipped her key in the lock. As the door swung open, the one occupant she didn’t mind meeting came slinking towards her, tail straight up in the air, the tip flicking back and forth. Tom threaded through her legs and graciously allowed her to pat him before dashing off again.