Chris did his best to look offended and the three of them entered the station. Jim had worked his usual miracle on the incident room. There were extra desks and laptops, and a few officers were under the desks, plugging cables into sockets on the floor. The blinds were closed against the summer sun and the prying eyes of reporters but the temperature was rising. It was going to be a warm day in the station.

‘Any news?’ Clare asked.

Jim shook his head. ‘It’s early, yet. But SOCO finished up at the house last night so they might have something for us this morning.’

Clare thanked Jim and went into her office, clicking on the computer. She checked her emails but there was nothing from SOCO. Time enough to call them after the briefing. Her office door opened and Chris entered. He’d changed his trainers for a pair of brogues.

‘No Nikes?’

‘Shut up.’

‘Ach, it’ll do you good. Someone needs to look after you, Chris.’

‘When did you last go for a run?’ he shot back.

‘Friday actually,’ she lied.

‘Hmm.’ He sank down in a chair. ‘They’re ready when you are.’

She reached into her desk drawer and took out a cereal bar. ‘With you in a couple of minutes,’ she said. ‘I missed breakfast.’

Chris indicated the bar. ‘You know those things are full of sugar, don’t you?’

Clare tore the wrapper off and dropped it into the bin. ‘Yup.’ She rose from her desk. ‘C’mon, then. Let’s make a start.’

She recognised a few faces from past investigations. Bill and Janey, the two plain-clothes officers from Dundee, were there, along with some others from Cupar and Glenrothes. Clare nodded her thanks to them and made her way to the whiteboard at the front of the room. Jim had pinned up a photo of Russell Fox provided by his sister, along with shots of the rest of the party, and Clare took up position to the side of the photos.

‘Morning, everyone,’ she said, smiling round at the room. ‘Thanks for turning out so early. And thanks also to the folks from other stations. We’ll keep you as short a time as possible.’ She tapped the photo of a smiling Russell Fox. ‘Our victim,’ she said. ‘Russell Fox. Businessman from Glasgow, just turned forty.’ She looked round the room again. ‘Mr Fox was killed by a single bullet, likely from a rifle but I’m awaiting ballistics info.’ She tapped a photo of Lamond Lodge. ‘He was found on a treetop walk in the grounds of this property – Lamond Lodge. It’s a few miles south of St Andrews. We’re not sure when he died but probably Saturday morning.’

‘Anything on where the bullet came from?’ Bill asked.