I studied him. “You know, Mike, I’ve never seen the attraction in risking hard-earned money”

After a brief silence I said: “What about you, Mike? What are you all about?” If he was surprised by the directness of my question, he didn’t show it. “I work hard and I play hard,” he said, laughing a little. “And what form does playing hard take?”

“I’m like everyone else. I drink, I socialise, I . . .” He moistened his upper lip with his tongue. “Womanise?”

He laughed. “Who doesn’t? I’m a red-blooded male. It’s not a cause of confession.”

“Yet something tells me there’s a side to you that you’re trying not to reveal,” I said playfully. “What really lights your fire?”

He opened his arms in an expression of surrender. “You got me. I like to gamble.”

“I’m guessing cards. Poker?”

“Spot on.”

“What kind?”

“The kind with high stakes.”

“In Edinburgh? Where?”

“It’s not a part of Edinburgh you’re acquainted with.”

Attraction

I studied him. “You know, Mike, I’ve never seen the attraction in risking hard-earned money.”

“Ah, but it’s the possibility of relieving someone else of theirs that’s the attraction.” He lifted his glass. “Eight players. Minimum stakes, a thousand apiece.” “Pounds?” I said, appalled.

“I’m not talking pence.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you shocked?”

“How did you get into it?” I said, after a pause. “When I was young, we all did it. There are plenty of places in Dublin.”

“And you say this goes on in Edinburgh?”

“It’s not in Yellow Pages. Only the cognoscenti know where to go. I’d offer to take you when we’re back, but somehow I think you’re not a player.” I stared at him, aghast.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you ever lose?”

“Mostly I break even, though there are times when I come out with my pockets crammed. Ah, but it’s a grand feeling when that happens.”

I was seeing him in a new light. Yet I thought he’d been a little too quick in his reply about gambling. There was another dimension to him, a dimension he was being careful not to reveal.

After a silence, I said: “Have you heard of the Bibby Foundation?”

His expression changed, and he set down his glass. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It’s impossible not to have heard of them. Wilson Bibby has just unveiled his big new schools’ initiative.” “You know about that?” I said, surprised.

“The Swedish papers are full of it. And, I expect, so are the papers everywhere else.” He rolled the glass between his palms.

“The Bibbys were in Stockholm last week, meeting members of the Swedish government.”

“And this week they’re at the Icehotel.”

He glanced up. “Yes, I heard they’d be coming here.”

Surely Bibby, a man who travelled incognito, wouldn’t broadcast his holiday location to the world. “How on earth did you know that, Mike?”

“One of the Yanks I was drinking with is working with Bibby. He told me. So what’s the big interest in the Bibby Foundation?”

“I’ve just been speaking to Marcellus Bibby, and – ”

Irritation

“You’ve been speaking to him?” A look of horror crossed Mike’s face.

“Listen, Maggie, it’s not often I give women advice, but I’m telling you now to steer clear of him. Of both of them.”

“That’s not going to be possible. We’re in the same hotel.”

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing in irritation. “Why should I steer clear of them?” I said defensively.

A pulse was beating in his temple.

“I’m concerned, Mike, because Harry relies on the Bibby Foundation for his research funding.”

“Holy Mother o’ God. This just gets better and better. He takes money from them?” His jaw muscles clenched.

“Sounds like Harry’s moral compass has taken him places it shouldn’t. Take it from me, you need a long spoon to sup with the Bibbys.”

“You’re exaggerating,” I said, looking away.

His voice was laced with sarcasm. “Is this why you’re all here, then? To see the great grand man? Like flies to s**t.”

“We had no idea Wilson Bibby would be at the Icehotel,” I said hotly.

But Mike had known. He’d known, and he’d chosen the Icehotel for a last-minute holiday. I wondered then just how last-minute it had been.

He’d been drinking with the Americans on Saturday. Had he made a snap decision when he learnt about Bibby’s Icehotel vacation?

Perhaps it was Mike who wanted to see the great man. But, given his strong feelings about Bibby, I couldn’t help but wonder why. “What do you have against Wilson Bibby?” I said. “Come clean, Mike.” “The man’s a …” He swore softly.

“Once again, please. This time with feeling.” He shot me a look of venom. “Let’s just change the subject.”

“If you like,” I said, shrugging.

“Tell me to mind my own business,” he said, after a pause, “but is Harry gay?”

“If he were, would you have a problem with that?” “Of course not, I don’t care one way or the other. My young brother is gay. No, it’s just that I like to know the lie of the land.”

His lips twitched. “I love his voice. It’s a male version of Maggie Smith’s in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.” He swirled his beer. “He strikes me as a pathological optimist.”

“He has to be. He’s an academic.”

“How did you meet him?”

Admiration

“Liz introduced us a couple of years ago.” I smiled, remembering. “She took me to one of his lectures.” “Not Nature or Nurture?”

“I have to confess I haven’t read his book but, yes, I think it was. He told us about the international terrorists he’s interviewed.”

There was admiration in Mike’s voice. “He’s interviewed terrorists?”

“Some were serving prison sentences. He was deliberately vague about the whereabouts of the others. But I must tell you, you’ll laugh at this, he was recounting the story of how he’d lost his passport somewhere in the Middle East, and was being held overnight in this hole of a prison.

“You know he has this cowlick in his hair? Well, he reached up to push it back, and his glasses went flying into the front row. Some bloke leapt out of his seat and caught them, and Harry asked him if he wanted to join the university cricket team. Then he carried on with his talk as though nothing had happened.”

Mike grinned. “Got to admit it, he has flair.”

More on Monday. Icehotel, available on Amazon Kindle, is Hania Allen’s debut novel. Her second book, The Polish Detective (Constable, £8.99), is the first in her new series featuring DS Dania Gorska and is set in Dundee.