Whitaker reminded Catherine of a recently released hostage, though his captivity was not yet over. He was wearing clothes that didn’t look like his own, he had a three- or four-day growth on his jaw and the slightly dazed look of someone who had gone a long time without sleep followed by a sustained period of little else. His nails were bitten to the quick, and having chewed his way through all of those, he had moved on to the dead skin around the tips of his fingers, gnawing distractedly on the edge of a digit any time someone else was speaking.

Fullerton had absented himself after escorting them to Whitaker’s temporary quarters. He had given Catherine a finely scrutinising look, asking himself whether he recognised her. She was fairly certain the answer was no, and equally certain that it would be the opposite from now on. He trusted Abercorn, evidently, as only the most cursory assurance was required by way of vouching that she would not betray Whitaker’s location. Perhaps Fullerton was just sufficiently confident that they would not be allowed to leave with Whitaker in their custody, nor back to do so without a warrant.

‘Tell Detective McLeod what you told me,’ Abercorn prompted.

They sat in a rear-facing room with the blinds tipped partially shut. Whitaker had informed them that he had not stood in sight of the street since being driven here, his journey spent lying across the back of an SUV. Catherine thought it was an overreaction; he was hiding from possible sightings, not dug-in snipers, but then she remembered who had fed Whitaker the Coruscate job, and what had happened to him since.

‘Whit, go over it again?’ he replied. He was clearly not someone with whom police cooperation sat well, even when it was the only way to safeguard his future.

‘You’ll have to go over it a lot more times before it buys you a get-out-of-jail card, Liam,’ Abercorn told him. ‘And if any discrepancies start to appear, we’ve got a problem. Talk.’

He had a nibble on a knuckle and began.

‘It was Tommy gie’d me the shout. Says he could guarantee that Central would be getting cleared oot on Thursday morning. Don’t know how he knew, but that was Tommy for ye: fingers in a lot of pies. He was in with a lot of people, but very discreet: he could be doing a wee bit of work for Frankie Callahan without Frankie knowing he was in with Stevie here as well, for instance. I mean, I was his mate for years and I’d hear things and think: whit? I didnae know Tommy knew him, you know?’

Abercorn arched his eyebrows at Catherine, by way of acknowledging that yes, they did know, what with Tommy touting to different police officers without either of them being aware of it.