The response was made kindly and without a hint of irritation. Muirhead smiled wryly.

‘All we know is that they are split. By the look of them they’ve had a fair argument going. But at least some of them must be on our side. Who can tell what is impressing the convictors – Thomson, Taylor, the blood? Anybody’s guess. It depends on how many sheep are in the middle and which side has the better powers of persuasion and the greater stamina.’

‘It’s a lottery, isn’t it?’

‘Sure is. That’s why we try to stack the odds in our favour.’

‘Still a bloody gamble!’

‘Are we going for a beer?’ chipped in Anderson.

‘Now that is a stupid question!’

The three men laughed, wearily.

‘Davie, the DI wants to see you, pronto. Maybe he wants to welcome you back, personally like!’

David Taylor ought to have detected the thinly-veiled warning. Unfortunately, since his mauling in the witness box, he had been off work and had only returned to duty that morning. He had been unsure what to expect but had been pleasantly surprised, and relieved, that no one had made any comment on the near disaster which had befallen him. Police officers are not noted for their sensitivity or for respecting the sensitivities of others. What could they do anyway? He hadn’t admitted doing anything that was illegal, really. So, he had noised up a witness. So what? It happened all the time. Witnesses regularly needed a gentle reminder of what was required of them.

At worst, he could face a disciplinary charge. What with being his father’s son, the suicide and all that, they weren’t going to do much to him. A slap on the wrist. Be a bit more careful in future, that sort of thing. Hardly a problem. Certainly nothing to worry about. Might have to do some more time in uniform. Pain in the arse. He was too good to hang around with the plods. The CID would want him back. After all, they liked guys who knew what was what, knew how the game worked, knew the score.

By the time he got to the Detective Inspector’s room, he had a spring in his step. His over-confidence had prevented him giving any real thought to the reason for the summons. Had he been less cocky, he might have been better prepared. He might even have taken a moment to wonder why the DI was seated behind his desk flanked by two officers who were plainly not of junior rank.

‘Morning, or is it afternoon, sir, you wanted to see me?’

Confident.

‘Yes, Taylor, would you care to sit down?’

‘No, thank you sir, I’m just going out on a job.’

‘Very well. I take it you know who I am?’

‘Of course, sir. I also know you were a pal of my dad. He often mentioned your name.’