“Accidental drowning,” Page intoned once more. Rebus could feel the man’s eyes on him. “You’ll note from the map that Golspie is on the A9, north of Tain and Dornoch, while Invermoriston is on the A82, south of Inverness and within easy reach of the A9. Two patterns seem to be emerging—the photos, plus that road—and that means I’m taking them seriously.” He paused. “Any thoughts so far, John?”

Rebus only now looked up from his reading. “It’s a busy enough route. Tourist traffic as well as vans and lorries. It also covers a lot of ground. Not easy to get an investigation going…”

“Nevertheless,” Page barked. But he didn’t seem to know what to say next. Clarke saved his blushes by suggesting that the various constabularies needed to be contacted and a summit of sorts held.

“All sorts of jurisdiction and protocol issues,” she said.

Page nodded.

“We also need to do what John did with the previous cases,” Esson piped up. “Talk to families and friends, try to get a better sense of the MisPers’ lives in general and their movements on the day they vanished.”

Page nodded at this, too.

“The photo is just about all we’re left with,” Ogilvie added. “If we’re confident it’s Edderton, we should organize a sweep of the area and interview anyone who lives locally or visits regularly.”

Page puffed out his cheeks, visibly daunted by what lay ahead.

“Something to bear in mind,” Rebus interrupted. “The earliest victim we have is Sally Hazlitt, and I’m beginning to think she may still be alive. Same might go for one or more of the others.”

“How much do we let the media know?” Clarke asked Page.

“At this stage, as little as possible.”

“If we turn up mob-handed in Edderton, they may start to get an inkling.”

“We need to talk to Grampian Police first—or is it Northern?”

“The latter,” Rebus answered.

“We also need to talk to the families of Jemima Salton and Amy Mearns as soon as possible,” Clarke said. “For several years now they’ve been under the impression their daughters drowned. We’ve just put the idea in their heads that they may have been abducted and murdered instead.”

“Good point.” Page was rubbing a hand up and down his jaw. “An order of priority is needed—can I leave that with you, Siobhan?”

She nodded her agreement. “You’ll be wanting to brief the Chief Constable,” she told him, trying her best to make it sound like a reminder rather than the strong suggestion it actually was.

“I’ll call his office,” Page said, glancing at his watch. A moment later he had retreated to his cupboard. There was silence in the room, all eyes on Clarke. She, on the other hand, was staring in Rebus’s direction.