‘No. We have no idea who was on the ship when this happened or what happened to them, other than the three bodies left behind.’

‘The Orlova’s a ghost ship,’ Chrissy said. ‘It doesn’t really exist.’

17

‘Cleverly’s flying up for the PM, and you’ve to pick him up at the airport,’ Janice informed him on entry.

‘What?’ McNab struggled to deal with a sentence that contained the words Cleverly and PM in it, since he disliked both.

‘The boss’s orders,’ Janice added, examining him more closely.

It was, McNab thought, like being sniffed all over by a Rottweiler.

‘Are you hung over?’ she eventually demanded.

McNab considered the question. There had been drink taken last night. Red wine with the meal, and whisky afterwards with the coffee, and later back at his place.

God. He’d taken Mary back to his flat, he recalled again with horror. What was he thinking?

But she hadn’t stayed, he reminded himself. She’d called a taxi and gone home to her big house overlooking the park. Her husband might be banged up, but Mary still maintained the lifestyle he’d provided for her.

‘I am not hung over,’ he said, in part to convince himself. ‘Anything else you need to tell me?’

‘The boss wants a word.’ His partner gave him one of her sweetest smiles. ‘As soon as you arrive.’

McNab composed himself before knocking on the glass door, recalling the single terse exchange he’d had with Cleverly and how he might report it. Which was undoubtedly what the boss wanted to discuss. When the call to enter came, McNab already had a plan.

DI Wilson looked up at him from behind the desk. ‘You’ve heard DI Cleverly is coming for the post-mortem?’

‘DS Clark told me, sir. And that I should pick him up at the airport.’

‘Good.’ DI Wilson studied him. ‘You’ve already spoken to him, I assume?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Noting McNab’s expression, DI Wilson sat back in his chair. ‘He gave nothing away?’

‘Nothing, sir. He led me to believe they hadn’t yet established whether Ms Richardson lived at the given address, nor whether they might have evidence to suggest she might be alive. He also didn’t mention Go Wild, the company Ollie in IT says she worked for.’

Silence followed, while the boss considered this, and McNab took his chance.

‘Sir. Might the Met be viewing this as their case, even though the death happened here in Glasgow?’

‘Why do you say that, Sergeant?’

How did he explain that the entitlement in Cleverly’s voice told him? Along with his avoidance of any information-giving. And now his attendance at the PM.

‘Might the fire victim be more important than we realize, sir?’ he tried.

DI Wilson nodded. ‘I was thinking that myself, Sergeant. See what you can glean from our visitor at the PM.’

‘He’s not coming in, sir, to speak to you?’