As these things go, it was state of the art, everything stainless steel and spotless and, most important of all, the air purification system worked perfectly. I’d been expecting Mario to call me the evening before to give me a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’ on whether I could attend, but he didn’t. Instead it was Andy Martin who called, the Chief Constable of Scotland himself. ‘Bob, how are you?’ he began, heartily, as soon as I picked up the phone in the office, having been advised by an operator that he was on the line. Even before the last of those four words were out, his tone had sent me a message of irrevocable change. But I was ready, for it cut both ways. Those who’ve observed me over the years will have realised by now that I have very few close friends outside the police. Within the service I have half a dozen, and for many years Andy Martin was one of the closest. Back then he wouldn’t have needed to ask how I was; he’d have known, because we’d have spoken every other day.
