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defences. I take it the suppressants were stopped as soon as he was admitted?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Well, that’s it then,’ said Monkton, stripping off his gloves and dropping them in a pedal bin he opened with his foot. ‘When God throws a curve ball … you’re out.’
    ‘His parents are coming in later to be told the findings of the PM.’
    ‘Something no parents should ever have to do,’ said Monkton. ‘I don’t envy you dealing with the living.’
    ‘Horses for courses,’ said Sands. ‘I can’t say I envy you your job either.’ He was looking down at the open cadaver of Keith Taylor.

THREE
     
     

EDINBURGH
March 2007
     
    ‘I don’t want to go to school.’
    Virginia Lyons glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall. ‘Look, Trish, you have to go. There’s nothing wrong with you. Why have you started doing this to me? You’ve always liked school, you know you have.’
    ‘Don’t want to go,’ mumbled her daughter, looking down at the floor.
    ‘Forget the “don’t want to go” nonsense. There has to be a reason. Tell me.’
    ‘Just don’t want to, all right?’
    Virginia stayed silent for a moment to let the spark of anger in her daughter die down. ‘Are you being bullied?’ she asked. ‘Is that it? Just tell me if you are because I’m not having that. I’ll go straight to the head teacher about it. We’ll nip this in the bud.’
    Trish shook her head silently, still staring studiously down at the floor.
    ‘Then what?’
    Silence.
    Virginia looked at the clock again and felt her stomach tighten. She was going to be late for work again and, as a divorced single mother, she needed the job even if it was only as a filing clerk in an estate agent’s office. It was a busy office. ‘Please Trish, tell me.’ She tried to make eye contact by taking Trish’s hands in hers and pulling her to her feet.
    ‘They’ve started calling me Patch in the gym class.’
    ‘Patch? And this is what this is all about?’ exclaimed Virginia. ‘Some silly children calling you some silly nickname?’
    ‘I don’t like it. I want it to go away.’
    Virginia back-pedalled on derision when she saw the tears start to run down her daughter’s face. In recent months Trish had developed a patch of white skin on her right shoulder which ran nearly all the way down her right arm. Since she was dark haired and sallow skinned, it was very noticeable. The doctor had said it was really nothing to worry about and probably the result of hormonal changes in her body – she had just turned thirteen. He was confident that, given time, the discolouration would disappear of its own accord but it had been three months now without much change if any.
    ‘Look, if it will make you any happier, we’ll go back to the doctor and tell him there’s been no improvement.’
    Trish nodded. ‘Yes please, Mum.’
    ‘You go off to school now and ignore these ignorant people. I’ll call the doctor before I leave for work and try for an evening appointment. Okay?’
    Trish nodded and kissed her mother goodbye.
     
     
    ‘I’m not sure what you want me to do,’ said Dr James Gault when Trish and her mother told him the rash wasn’t getting any better. He sounded irritable. ‘It’s not technically a rash,’ he corrected. ‘It’s just an area of skin discolouration and most probably psychological in origin.’
    ‘Whatever it is, it’s showing no signs of going away and some of her class-mates have started calling her names and it’s very upsetting.’
    Gault shrugged. ‘It’s absolutely harmless and what’s a little name calling. Sticks and stones, eh Trish?’
    Trish stared resolutely at the floor.
    Virginia felt a wave of exasperation sweep over her at what she felt was Gault’s lack of sensitivity. ‘It’s not harmless if it’s making her so unhappy,’ she pointed out. ‘It’s only a matter of time before it begins to affect her school work. School kids can be very cruel.’
    ‘I’m reluctant to refer her to