'Okay.'

'Any connection?'

'Could you check?'

'I'll see what I can do.'

'Make it quick.'

The phone went dead. She stared at it, then pressed her lips to the screen before putting it away and starting the engine.

34.

Rebus had known ever since setting out from Edinburgh that he was going to continue north from Ullapool. His daughter Samantha lived in a house on the jagged north coast, on the Kyle of Tongue. He had phoned ahead and checked she would be home, though he'd been necessarily vague about his arrival time. The road from Ullapool was spectacular, though the sky started to darken long before he neared his destination. As he stopped his car outside the bungalow, she appeared in the doorway. Her daughter, Carrie, was almost two now. Rebus had only met her twiceonce in the hospital in Inverness the day after her birth, and once in Edinburgh. She shied away from him as he tried to kiss her, and he realised he hadn't thought to bring a gift. He embraced Samantha and she led him inside to the cosy living room with its toy-strewn floor and three-piece suite.

'Is Keith not here?' Rebus asked.

'He's got some overtime.'

'That's good.' Her partner had a job as part of the team decommissioning the Dounreay nuclear reactor. 'And has he started glowing in the dark yet?'

'You asked me that last timeand the time before.'

He had taken the proffered seat while his daughter stayed standing. Carrie meantime was back amongst her toys, the adult world none of her concern. Samantha had streaks of silver in her hair, and she had lost weight.

'You look good,' he said dutifully.

'You too,' she felt obliged to respond. 'I'll just put the kettle on.'

So Rebus sat there, eyes on the child, not sure what to say or do. He was thinking of Malcolm Fox and his father, and of his own parents. There were framed photos on one wall, including one of him cradling the sleeping newborn. He felt a slight ache in his chest, which he was rubbing away with a thumb when Samantha returned.

'So you've been to Ullapool,' she said, waiting in the doorway while the kettle boiled. 'Thought you were retired.'

'Police Scotland have discovered the hard way that they can't live without me.'

'And vice versa, I dare say. How was the drive up?'

'Fine.'

'But you need to get back?'

He gave a shrug. 'I'm here now, though. I really wanted to see you.'

She nodded slowly and headed to the kitchen once more, this time returning with a tray. Tea in two floral mugs, a beaker of juice for Carrie, and a plate of digestive biscuits, one of them lightly buttered. This she handed to Carrie, who began to devour it.

'I think we used to have the same when you were young,' Rebus said. 'Digestives or Rich Tea, but with a smear of Lurpak as a treat.'

She handed him his tea and sat down on the chair opposite. 'Everything okay with you?' she asked, unable to mask the concern on her face.

'I'm fine.'

'You sure?'

'I'm not here to deliver bad news.'

'I was a bit worried that maybe...'

'Nothing's wrong, cross my heart.'

'You're still drinking and smoking, though.'

'Only medicinally.'

She managed a smile and turned her attention to her daughter. 'Go and sit beside Grandad, Carrielet him see how you've grown.'

The little girl made a show of reluctance, then crawled over to Rebus's feet and scrambled up his legs until she was in his lap.

'Don't squash me,' he teased, while Samantha took a photo on her phone.

Carrie, having rewarded Rebus with a chuckle, then became engrossed in the two toys she was clutching.

And stayed there, quite happily, while father and daughter caught up.

He decided to drive back by way of Inverness. Having been out of range for a while, his phone finally pinged to let him know he had missed a couple of calls, from Siobhan Clarke and Malcolm Fox. Stopping for petrol and coffee at the same retail park on the outskirts of Inverness, he took out his phone.

'Hey, you,' he told Clarke. 'What's up?'

'Malcolm and I were thinking of grabbing a currywondered if you wanted to join us.'

'I won't be back until late.'

'We might still be there. We were thinking of the place you like.'

'Newington Spice? Well, I'll try to make it, but I'm not promising.'

'Where are you?'

'Inverness.'

'How was Ullapool?'

'I have stuff to tell you. Best said in person, though, after I've checked a couple of things.'

'I've been thinking about Tolland's wifeI'm pretty sure she knew. I feel sorry for her.'

'I thought she was dead.'

'That doesn't seem to be stopping me.'

'Each to their own. Any idea why Malcolm wanted to speak to me?'

'I haven't seen him today. He was going to take a shift at his dad's bedside.'

'Any change?'

'Not that I know of.'

'Okay, I'll maybe give him a call.'

'I'm guessing we'll be gone from the restaurant by eleven.'

'Tell them to keep me a doggy bag.'

'I will.'

He called Fox's number and waited.

'Hiya, John,' Fox said.

'How's your old man?'

'Stable.'

'You there with him now?'

'I'm actually drinking hospital coffeeprior to handing the baton back to Jude.'

'Freeing you up for curry with Siobhan?'

'She told you?'

'Doubt I can make it. I'm up north right now.'

'Where?'

'Inverness.'

'To do with Hamish Wright?'

Rebus took a moment to connect the dots. Wright: the missing haulier, who had brought the Starks to Edinburgh. 'Just passing through.'

'Thing is, his nephew works at CC Self Storage.'

'That's the place run by Darryl Christie's pal?'

'Yes. The Starks gave the owner a bit of a doing, but they didn't know his right-hand man is related to the very person they're looking for.'

'Sounds to me like you've been doing proper dogged detective work.'

'You wouldn't be far wrong.'

'So what's your next move?'

'I might try for a search warrant, see if Hamish Wright rents one of the units.'

'Even if he does...'

'It might not be in his name, yes. Which is why we might require a sniffer dog.'

'You've given it some thought.'

'Would you play it differently?'

'Absolutely not.' Rebus paused. 'Remember what we were talking about? Parents and kids...?'

'Yes?'

'I drove to Tongue to see Sammy.'

'And it went okay?'

'It really did.'

'Then we've both had a result today.'

Rebus's phone had started vibrating, telling him he had another call. 'Got to go,' he told Fox. But it was Cafferty's name on the screen, and Rebus wasn't ready just yet for that conversation. So instead he looked up Hamish Wright's details, and found that the petrol station was about a five-minute drive from the haulage yard.

A quick detour, he told himself, fastening his seat belt as he exited the forecourt.

The industrial estate looked like any otheranonymous corrugated structures behind either high walls or higher fences. Hamish Wright Highland Haulage wasn't hard to spot, boasting a large tartan banner above its gates and the same livery on the trucks parked up behind the razor wire. Floodlights illuminated the scene, and the gates stood open, a laden lorry crawling out. Rebus drove into the compound. A Portakabin seemed to be all the office Hamish Wright needed. The door was closed but its windows were lit. When the door opened, another driver emerged, folding a set of documents and making for his cab. He nodded a greeting at Rebus as Rebus tapped on the Portakabin door.

'What now?' a female voice barked from within. Rebus opened the door and walked in. The woman behind the desk was in her mid fifties and stubbing her latest cigarette into a brimming ashtray. There were half a dozen empty coffee takeaways in the bin next to her, and she was busy with a laptop and a stack of paperwork.

'Mrs Wright?' Rebus guessed.

'Who are you?'

'My name's Rebus. I'm with Police Scotland.'

The blood drained from her face. 'Yes?' she said, in a voice suddenly just above a whisper.