Thanks for this, Emma. I know you’ve put yourself on the line to help me

Emma looked at the bed as they passed through. “A bit narrow for my tastes, though.” In the bathroom, Grumpy Bob had the packet open and was peering at the contents with a puzzled frown on his face. “It looks like cocaine, sir. Can’t be sure without a tester kit, but unless you’ve a habit of keeping your talc in the cistern, that’s what it’s most likely to be.

“But this is a lot of money here. Tens of thousands of pounds’ worth. Who’d waste that just to set you up?”

“I’m keeping an open mind, but someone who can afford a luxury warehouse conversion in Leith is high on my suspect list.”

“Good point. Well, we’re going to need to find out where this has come from, and that means it’s going to have to be found somewhere.”

“Maybe not,” Emma said. “I should be able to get a sample tested without being registered on the system.

“There’s people in the labs owe me more than a few favours, and we can run it through as a calibration test.”

“You’d do that for me?” McLean wasn’t quite sure why she had chosen to side with him, but he was grateful nonetheless.

“Sure, but it’ll cost you.”

Liberty

“Did you have anything in mind?” He looked down at the tight-wrapped package on the floor beside the cistern.

There were some things he wouldn’t do, even if his job was on the line. Even if his liberty were at stake. Emma followed his gaze, then laughed.

“How about dinner?”

McLean was so relieved that she wasn’t after the drugs, it took him a while to realise what she’d asked instead.

Beside him, Grumpy Bob stifled a titter, and DC MacBride looked distinctly uncomfortable. This probably wasn’t how he had imagined detective work was done.

“OK. But not tonight, I’m afraid. Unless you count pizza and beer shared with these two reprobates as dinner.”

“That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“No, I didn’t think it would be.”

It was after midnight before they had finished going over the house from top to bottom.

Not content with hiding cocaine in his cistern, McLean’s unknown benefactor had also hidden a bag of cash in the cold water tank in the attic; used twenties and tens amounting to several thousands of pounds, their waterproof packaging unmarked.

Emma had found half a dozen partial fingerprints, mostly around the back door and up in the bathroom.

One promising half-smear came off the gloss white surround to the door leading up to the attic, close by a protruding nail head that might have ripped a latex glove.

It looked like someone had tried to wipe it away with a rough cloth, which roused suspicions. Otherwise, the house was full of prints, mostly McLean’s.

“This place is alarmed, right?” Emma asked as they sat around the kitchen table, munching on pizza and drinking the last bottles of beer from the cellar.

Like pretty much everything else in the house, they were 18 months out of date, but nobody seemed to care much.

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly convinced it’s any good. The last I heard, Penstemmin’s in a bit of a muddle trying to sort out what McReadie did to their system. I’m beginning to wish I’d never caught the bastard.”

Silence

Grumpy Bob slumped back in his chair, letting his breath out in a long sigh.

“You think he hates you that much he’d do all this? Christ, the man’s not poor, but that’s taking it a bit far, isn’t it?”

“Can you think of anyone else?”

The silence that descended on the table was answer enough.

“Well, I’ll check those partials against him first thing tomorrow.” Emma looked at her watch.

“That’s to say today. I really should be going.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. McLean followed her to the door.

“Thanks for this, Emma. I know you’ve put yourself on the line to help me.”

“Too right I have, but I know coke addicts and you’re not the type. And as for the cash, you’ve got this place, what d’you need it for?”

“Yeah, well hopefully I won’t have to prove that to anyone else. I’m sure you understand how awkward this could be if it got out. For all of us.”

She smiled, the corners of her eyes creasing slightly. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. But you owe me dinner, and there had better be candles.”

Grumpy Bob and DC MacBride joined him at the front door as she drove off.

“You’d best be careful with that one,” Bob said. “She’s got a reputation, you know.”

“You’re the one who brought her here,” McLean began to say, but he could see the smile breaking out on Grumpy Bob’s face and stopped himself.

“Go on, both of you. Get yourselves home.” He watched them drive off into the night, then went back to the kitchen.

The cocaine and the money sat on the table with the leftover pizza.

One would probably be OK cold for breakfast, but the other was more of a problem.

Surprising

McLean looked at the clock on the kitchen wall; it was late, but not too late. Not for this. And besides, what were friends for if you couldn’t wake them up by calling in the wee small hours?

The phone rang three times before answering. Phil sounded slightly out of breath; McLean didn’t want to speculate given his ex-flatmate’s legendary dislike of exercise.

“Phil. Sorry for calling so late. I’ve got a favour to ask.” McLean hefted the cling-film wrapped brick of cocaine in one hand.

“I was wondering if I might borrow that incinerator you’ve got in your state-of-the-art lab.”

Rachel was with Phil when they met outside the back door to the lab complex, which surprised McLean.

He’d no doubt she’d been there when he’d called his friend, but there was no need for her to come along, surely?

At this time of the morning she’d have been comfier tucked up in bed, even alone.

“Thanks for this, Phil.” McLean hefted the bag over his shoulder.

It was surprising just how much a kilo of cocaine and £50,000 in unmarked bills could weigh.

Particularly when you were carrying them through the city’s streets in the wee small hours.

He’d thought about getting a taxi, then decided it was better if there were as few witnesses as possible.

“Not even sure what it is,” Phil said. “You’ve got us both on tenterhooks here, Tony.”

“Aye, well. Can we go in?” He nodded at the door, anxious to be away from the ever-present glare of the security cameras.

“Yes, of course.” Phil tapped a code into the keypad by the door, which obligingly clicked open.

Inside, the back end and store rooms for the lab were in semi-darkness.

More tomorrow.