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Murray had never considered it before, but he could see how the tactic might work.

‘I guess it lets you get up close and personal.’

‘Exactly. I was a bit pissed off on Archie’s behalf, but it was still none of my beeswax and, anyway, something told me Robb was doing it to get Archie’s attention, so I let them get on with it.’

‘Did Archie join in?’

‘Oh, aye, before long he was right in the middle of the hocus-pocus. That made it worse. He was meant to be my mate and here he was giving me a showing-up in front of these serious socialists. Then I heard what Bobby Robb was saying and lost my rag.’

Meikle paused and his face grew tight, as if remembering brought back his anger. Somewhere a car radio cried advance warning of the lunchtime news bulletin and Murray remembered time was against them.

‘What was he talking about?’

‘Reincarnation.’

‘Surely that kind of thing was big back then?’

‘Oh, aye, it was. Hinduism and all that. Not my bag, but I didn’t have a problem with it. No, Bobby Robb was waxing on about how you could gain access to other worlds, other minds, through rituals. According to him, if you hit on the right spell, you’d be able to outlive death. Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was the drink, who knows? He’d had a fair few pints by this time, we all had. But according to Robb, the most valuable ingredient was the blood of an innocent, a virgin. You wouldn’t necessarily have to kill the girl to get it, Robb said, just cut her. He asked Christie if she’d oblige, and when she told him she didn’t qualify, started quizzing her on whether she had any friends who did. I waited for Archie to shut him up and when he didn’t, I told Robb he was talking a load of pish. The next thing I know, we’re scrapping outside on the pavement.’

‘You and Bobby?’

‘No.’ Meikle gave a bitter laugh. ‘Bobby wasn’t the kind to fight his own battles. Me and Archie.’ They had reached the library doorway now. Somewhere a clock struck one, but the bookfinder made no move to return to his post. ‘I went round to his flat the next day, but Archie was either out, or not answering. I reckoned if he wanted to see me, he knew where to look. A month later his book came out. No doubt he launched it on a wave of drink. Eventually I heard Archie and Christie had gone off to one of the islands. Robb was with them.’ The bookfinder’s voice took on a definite tone, making it clear he was drawing a line under the subject. ‘Now you know as much as I do.’

‘Except why you blame Bobby Robb for Archie’s death.’

‘It’s just my opinion.’

‘But you’ve got a reason. I’d like to hear it, if you’re willing to share it with me.’

The older man stood silently, looking down the street in the direction of the crossroads.

‘Fuck it.’ He took his mobile from his pocket and dialled. ‘Fiona? Aye, I’m fine, hen, but I’m going to be a wee bit late back.’ He paused while the person on the other end of the line said something, and then answered, ‘No, no problem. Just something I’ve got to deal with. Aye, I remember, I’ll be back in time. Thanks, Fiona, I’ll do the same for you sometime. Cheers.’

He hung up and Murray said, ‘Do you want to go somewhere?’

‘No, I can’t. I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes. Let’s step away from the door, though. I don’t want to chance my luck.’ They walked down the bridge a little way and stood looking down onto old Edinburgh. Meikle nodded at the darkened street below. ‘From up here, it could be a hundred years ago.’ He sighed. ‘You’re right. Archie was a stupid bastard at times, and I’ve no evidence Bobby had anything to do with his death. But there were rumours.’

‘What kind of rumours?’

‘Nothing substantial, only that things got out of hand once they got to the island. Something happened to make Archie do what he did, and Bobby Robb wasn’t an innocent party.’ He looked Murray square in the face. ‘He came back to Edinburgh afterwards, but someone gave him a doing and he moved on.’

‘You?’

‘What does it matter? It was a long time ago.’ In the street below, two old men with open cans of lager in their hands made unsteady progress, arm in arm. ‘Classic Edinburgh: up here it’s hustle and bustle, down there it’s drink and decay. Like lifting a stone.’ Down below, the old men lowered themselves onto the kerbside. One of them gestured expansively, elaborating on some point while his companion tipped his beer can to his mouth. Transport them to a gastro-pub and they might be two professors of English literature debating the finer points of theory.

Murray said, ‘I still don’t see why you blame Bobby rather than Christie.’

Meikle gave Murray a defiant stare.

‘Bobby Robb was a walking pharmacy. Archie had no self-control. Put him on an island with someone like that and what happened was almost inevitable.’

‘There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?’

‘No.’ The bookfinder looked away. ‘Except. .’ His phone rang and he took it from his pocket. ‘I’m on my way.’ He stowed the mobile and turned his attention back to Murray. ‘Bobby Robb was a drug-addled opportunist, but even I could see he had some kind of magnetism. And Lunan was looking for a guru. Maybe that was why he palled up with me in the first place. Problem was, I had enough trouble keeping myself straight.’

He turned to walk away.

‘George.’ Murray put a hand on the other man’s arm. ‘You’ve been frank with me. I appreciate it.’

The bookfinder’s gruffness had returned. He hesitated an uncomfortable beat, then took Murray’s proffered hand and shook it.

‘I’ve thought about it nigh-on thirty years, and I believe whatever happened up on Lismore, Bobby Robb was at the bottom of it.’

Murray asked, ‘Did you ever see Christie again?’

‘Once, I saw her in the street not long after Archie’s death.’ Meikle shook his head. ‘That night in the pub, I remember thinking how beautiful Christie was. She was glowing and her hair. . well, it was always lovely, but it seemed thicker, shinier.’ He paused as if deciding whether to go on, then continued, ‘The last time I saw her, it was as if she’d aged. She’d lost weight. It made her features look sharper, witchy. Suddenly I felt that I would have as soon talked to the Devil. I crossed the road to avoid her.’

They started to walk together, back in the direction of the library. George Meilke asked, ‘So what next?’

‘It’s all baby steps at the moment. I’m planning on heading to Lismore, see if I can get Christie to give me her account. And I guess I’ll have to try and track down Bobby Robb.’ He gave Meikle an apologetic glance. ‘Even if he turns out to still be as bad as he was when you met him, I need to hear his account.’

Meikle nodded. They walked on in silence for a while. The lunchtime rush was over, but these days the city was never quiet and there was still a slow crawl of cars edging along George IV Bridge towards the lights.

Meikle gave a tired grin. ‘I know where he drinks.’

Murray looked at the older man, wondering if he had intended to keep this last piece of information to himself.

The bookfinder misinterpreted his expression.

‘Don’t worry. I’ve not fallen off the wagon. I saw him in the High Street a couple of years back.’

‘And recognised him? After all that time?’

‘You never forget an ugly mug like that. I’d thought about Bobby Robb from time to time, always regretting I didn’t somehow call his bluff that night. But when I saw him again. .’ the older man shook his head. ‘It was like I was glad to see him, even though I can honestly say I hate Robb for what he did to Archie. It was around about Christmas time. I remember that because I was going to look in some of those fancy shops they have up there for a nice scarf or something for the wife. But when I caught sight of Bobby I didn’t hesitate, just reeled round and followed him, like he was the bloody Pied Piper of Hamelin. I had a hard time keeping up. He’s probably got a good ten years on me, but he’s fast on his pins, I’ll give him that. He went down Cockburn Street and into Geordie’s. Do you know it?’