'How come you're all so keen to witness my demise?'

'Don't be surprised,' Tam said, 'if the suits from HQ come with stakes and mallets, just to be on the safe side.' He winked towards Clarke. 'Siobhan here tells me you've wangled it so your last shift's a Saturday. Is that so we're all at home watching telly while you take the long walk?'

'Just the way it fell, Tam,' Rebus assured him. 'Any tea going?'

Tou turned your nose up at it,' Tam chided him.

'That was half an hour ago.'

'No second chances here, John.'

'I was asking,' Clarke interrupted, 'if Tarn 's team had anything for us.'

'I'm guessing he said to be patient.'

'That's about the size of it,' Tam confirmed, checking a text message on his mobile phone. 'Stabbing outside a pub at Haymarket,'

he informed them.

'Busy night,' Clarke offered. Then, to Rebus: 'Doctor reckons our man was bludgeoned and maybe even kicked to death. He's betting blunt force trauma at the autopsy.'

'He's not going to get any odds from me,' Rebus told her.

'Nor me,' Tam added, rubbing a finger across the bridge of his nose. He turned to Rebus: 'Know who that young copper was?' He nodded towards the patrol car. Todd Goodyear was helping Nancy Sievewright into the back seat, Bill Dyson drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

'Never seen him before,' Rebus admitted.

Tou maybe knew his grandad though…' Tam left it at that, wanting Rebus to do the work. It didn't take long.

'Not Harry Goodyear?'

Tam was nodding in confirmation, leaving Clarke to ask who Harry Goodyear was.

'Ancient history,' Rebus informed her.

Which, typically, left her none the wiser.

2

Rebus was giving Clarke a lift home when the call came in on her mobile.