He was finishing scribbling down the number when a red Toyota Corolla arrived and parked a few spaces away from the black Jag. Boonzie put the telescope to his eye and saw that it was Jim Coull. He observed his Number Two target enter the building, took a note of the reg number and settled back for the wait.

From nine a.m. onwards the police station gradually came to life. Vehicles came and went from both the staff and visitor car parks. Boonzie brewed up a mug of strong black coffee and kept watching the building in case either of his targets left. Time passed. If anyone had even noticed the camper van sitting in the visitor car park, it seemed nobody was interested enough to come and check it out.

Boonzie didn’t care how long he needed to wait. He had food and water, heating and toilet facilities, and could remain there all day if necessary. In the event, he didn’t have to bide his time for too long. Three hours after reporting for duty, DI Macleod and DS Coull emerged together from the building. Macleod had on the raincoat and still looked blotchy. They appeared deep in serious conversation as they walked towards the car park. The pair hovered there for half a minute longer, still talking, the winter wind ripping at their hair, then split up and walked to their vehicles. Boonzie wondered where they were going. He moved up the narrow aisle to the driver’s seat as the black Jaguar took off, followed by the red Toyota. Boonzie started up the camper van and let it roll gently out of the visitor car park after them, making sure to keep a good distance behind.

As they reached the gates, the Jag turned left towards the bypass roundabout and the Corolla headed in the opposite direction. Now Boonzie was torn as to which one to follow. He opted to go after Macleod in the Jag.

Boonzie hung back and allowed a few other vehicles to slip between himself and the Jag as Macleod led him around the snowy-edged bypass skirting Fort William. A couple of miles later they entered a residential area on the edge of the town, filled with white-roofed modern houses that all looked like clones of one another. By now the vehicles spaced between them had filtered off, and Boonzie had to be careful not to be spotted while at the same time not losing sight of the Jag for too long, in case it disappeared among the Legoland warren of suburban streets. Finally Macleod pulled up in the driveway of a large detached residence with a prim garden and a double garage. Boonzie slotted the camper by the kerb eighty yards back, moved quickly back to the net-curtained side window and grabbed his telescope to watch Macleod climb out of the Jag and walk up to the house.