“Wedding videos, mostly, and some corporate stuff.”

The page was offered across to Hamza, who reacted in similar disbelief to the figures. “No way you make that from wedding videos,” he said.

“You obviously haven’t seen the price of a bloody wedding video recently,” Tyler muttered, and he winced at the thought of the bill he still had to pay.

Logan took the printout and whistled through his teeth. “He’d have to be filming every bloody wedding in the Central Belt to hit those numbers,” the DCI said.

“Corporate stuff seems to be where most of their focus is,” Sinead said. “Going by the website, anyway. I’ve emailed the link.”

“What about the rest of the family?” asked Ben.

“Right, yeah. Donna Sutherland, Archie’s wife. Aged forty-six. They’ve been married for three years, met at a charity thing she was doing PR for a year before that. Bit of a whirlwind romance, it seems. The two younger victims—the girls—they’re hers from a previous marriage.”

“The father been informed yet?” Logan asked.

“We’re trying to get hold of him. He’s working with Doctors Without Borders in Libya at the moment. Someone is tracking him down.”

“Sounds like we can rule him out as a suspect, at least,” Hamza said.

“Aye,” Logan confirmed. “Pretty solid that, as alibis go.”

It was usually a decent shout, too, in situations like this—the father. There were few things more dangerous than a scorned man, and fewer still that would sink as low. Logan had attended too many cases where a jilted husband had taken his own life and those of his children, in some ultimate act of revenge.

One case. That was how many he’d attended.

One too many.

“She’s from the east coast, originally. Near Fife,” Sinead continued. “But she and the kids moved into Archie’s house shortly before the wedding.”

“In Girvan?” Logan asked.

“Aye. Same address as the business.”

Logan looked down at the page again, and that number with all its zeroes. “So… this is run from his house?”

“Aye, but I pulled it up on Google Maps,” Sinead said. “It’s a pretty big place.”

“Still…”

“You think it’s dodgy?” Ben asked.

Logan tore his eyes from the number on the printout. “If not, I’m in the wrong line of work,” he replied, then he waved the page for Sinead to continue.

“The girls were Alexis and Elizabeth. Aged thirteen and ten. Their surname’s Moir. They stuck with their dad’s name.”

“But the wife changed hers?” Tyler asked, and the others couldn’t miss the little barbs at the edges of the words. “When they got married, I mean, the wife took his surname? Like, you know, is traditional?”