‘Who’s that?’ Chrissy asked.

‘Former DI Jimmy McCreadie thinks it might be eleven-year-old Mary McIntyre, who disappeared from her confirmation ceremony, East Kilbride, May first, 1975.’

Chrissy and Rhona exchanged looks.

‘That would account for the confirmation outfit buried with her,’ Chrissy said. ‘We’re dropping off the rest of the evidence bags at the lab, then heading to the jazz club. You could meet us there and fill us in on DI McCreadie.’

‘Aka J. D. Smart, crime thriller writer,’ McNab said, rather sarcastically.

Chrissy gave Rhona a wide-eyed look. ‘You’re kidding me?’

‘I don’t kid about things like that.’

‘Cool.’ Chrissy nodded her appreciation.

‘You’ve heard of him?’ McNab said suspiciously.

‘You mean you haven’t?’ Chrissy sounded shocked.

Rhona guessed that her forensic assistant was taking the mickey. Now Chrissy’s wicked grin told her she was right.

‘I’ll maybe see you at the club,’ McNab said. ‘If not, I’ll see you at the PM.’

Chrissy grinned at Rhona as McNab rang off. ‘He’s so easy to wind up.’

‘And you do it so well.’

Having made swift work labelling and storing the evidence, Rhona had a quick shower and found something in her locker to wear. Chrissy was ready before her and, as usual, outdid Rhona on the outfit front.

Chrissy had also donned make-up, which suggested that her assistant’s desire to go to the jazz club held more meaning than Rhona had anticipated.

‘Mum’s staying over with wee Michael tonight,’ Chrissy told her as they headed out. ‘So it’s my night off.’

‘Mmmm,’ Rhona said. ‘And you certainly look the part. Have you got a date?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Someone at the jazz club I should know about?’

Chrissy smiled sweetly but said nothing.

Ashton Lane was busy despite the puddles on the cobbles from the earlier downpour. After all, Glaswegians were used to rain in all its forms since the Scottish weather could have four seasons in an hour, never mind a day.

‘Sean’s on tonight,’ Chrissy said.

‘You seem to know more about Sean’s schedule than I do,’ Rhona said wryly.

‘It’s open mic night,’ Chrissy informed her. ‘Sean encourages young musicians up on stage and accompanies them. Don’t you two ever talk?’

‘When we do meet up, we don’t discuss work,’ Rhona told her.

‘Mmmm.’ Chrissy raised an eyebrow. ‘So things are good between you two?’

Rhona wanted to say ‘for the moment’ but that might have sounded mean, so she just nodded.

She and Sean Maguire, the Irish part-owner of the jazz club, had been in an on–off relationship for some considerable time. During the sin-eater case, things had got pretty fraught between them, which had more to do with her than Sean. Despite all of that, he’d welcomed her back from Skye and supported her in her recovery.

Chrissy was reading her expression. ‘Sean’s a keeper. I’ve always said that.’

Yes, but am I? Rhona left those words unspoken.

The bar was already busy with the after-work crowd. The open mic session had yet to begin, although the stage was obviously being set up for it.