‘We were only just getting started,’ Tony Kaye said, not bothering to disguise the complaint.

‘Funny, I thought we were on to cheese and biscuits,’ Scholes countered.

‘DI Scholes does actually have to be at another meeting in five minutes,’ Pitkethly said. ‘Procurator Fiscal has a case to prepare…’

Scholes wasted no time getting to his feet. ‘Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure.’

‘How soon can we have him back?’ Fox asked Pitkethly.

‘Mid-afternoon, probably.’

‘Unless the Fiscal has other ideas.’ Scholes had switched his phone back on and was checking for messages.

‘Couple of missed calls?’

Scholes looked at Fox and smiled. ‘How did you guess?’

Pitkethly seemed to be wondering the same thing. ‘Can I have a word in my office, Inspector Fox?’

‘I was about to suggest it,’ Fox answered.

A minute later, Kaye and Naysmith were alone together in the interview room.

‘Do I pack it all up?’ Naysmith asked, his hand resting on the tripod.

‘Better had. Can’t trust Scholes and his crew not to come in here and wipe their cocks over everything…’

‘Sit down,’ Pitkethly instructed from behind her desk. Fox stayed standing. The desk was empty. There was another at a right angle to it, and this second desk boasted a computer and busy-looking in-tray. The window had a view on to the car park outside. There were no knick-knacks on the sill; no photos of loved ones. The walls were bare except for a No Smoking sign and a year-planner.

‘Been here long?’ Fox asked.

‘Few months.’

‘And before that?’

He could see she was annoyed: somehow he was the one getting to ask the questions. But politeness demanded an answer.