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get out of paying him.’
    Mairi swallowed back whatever she was about to unleash, professionalism taking over.
    ‘Point taken,’ she said, just about keeping her voice steady. ‘But I want you to ask yourself: after what you did for Donald, do you actually think I would try to use you like that?’
    Parlabane met her gaze and answered honestly.
    ‘After what I’ve been through lately, I truly don’t know what anybody is or isn’t capable of any more. But because I don’t want to live in that world where my accusation is true, I’m going to take you at face value.’
    She nodded subtly by way of acknowledgement.
    ‘That said,’ Parlabane went on, ‘could it still be a stunt that you’re not in on?’
    She didn’t even think about the question, which told him she’d asked it herself already.
    ‘Not a chance. This is Heike we’re talking about. After the shit she’s been through with the media, and given how much she likes to micro-manage everything down to the last press release, there’s no way she’d willingly put herself at the centre of a storm she couldn’t control.’
    Mairi glanced down at Heike’s photograph on the magazine: elegantly poised, as graceful as she was formidable.
    ‘The very reason I’m worried is that this isn’t like her,’ she said. ‘I need you to find her, but I can’t let it get out that she’s missing, and you know how little it would take for a rumour to start in this business. The band don’t even know. I got Jan, the tour manager, to tell them she had been in touch to say she was ill and had flown home as it was the last night of the tour.’
    ‘They bought that?’
    ‘They knew there was something iffy about it, but they’ve all been around Heike long enough to have witnessed her, shall we say, self-protective side. Besides, they’re all governed by the golden rule that what happens on tour stays on tour. But
something
must have happened. I heard through other sources that Heike had a minor breakdown on-stage in Hamburg, two nights before she went missing. I can’t get anything out of the band, though, and if I push hard on the subject, they’ll get suspicious. That’s why I need you.’
    ‘Why are you so desperate to keep it quiet? Surely the more people who know someone as recognisable as Heike Gunn is missing, the greater the likelihood of her being spotted.’
    ‘I can’t have this turning into a media circus. For one thing, once it’s all resolved –
inshallah
– I don’t want Heike thinking that we in any way milked this. But to be brutally honest, I don’t want the record company spooked. Nobody at Sentinel knows about this, and if it all blows up they might get very nervous about authorising that seven-figure marketing spend.’
    ‘Well, that tracks, at least.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘She’s your meal ticket.’
    He thought Mairi might bridle at this, but she seemed to let it bounce off her.
    ‘Heike is a lot of people’s meal ticket, and that has to be quite a responsibility. Like I said, she takes a lot on her shoulders. She’s got a tough reputation, but she’s far more fragile than people assume. I’m worried about her, Jack. I need you to bring her home.’

Running Away with the Circus
    I will always associate the sound of the fiddle with my grandfather.
    It was the sound I heard whenever I went to his house, and whenever he came over to ours. I mean, it wasn’t like he carried the thing about with him all the time, just that I have a more vivid recollection of those visits when he had his violin with him. Looking back, these are probably brighter memories because they were social gatherings, and when I was really wee, I loved a busy house and a crowd of familiar faces in the living room and the kitchen.
    When I got a bit older, I was less comfortable with such shindigs, as I would be asked to demonstrate how my own playing was coming along. It felt horrible to be put on the spot, and sometimes I would compound my faulty fingering as