She’d said she would call him with news—she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful. But as yet it was all just supposition mixed with what might turn out to be coincidence.

And that was it: Rebus was dismissed.

He texted a brief thank you to Gavin Arnold, not being able to track him down in the flesh, and headed outdoors. Raymond, Dempsey’s nephew, nodded a greeting and asked if he had any comment. The other journalists frowned and twitched, not knowing who Rebus was. They quickly gathered round Raymond, keen to be included. Rebus took his time getting a cigarette lit before he spoke.

“Persons of interest are currently being interviewed by DCS Dempsey and her team,” he obliged.

“Any names?”

Rebus kept his eyes on Raymond. The young man was pointing his phone, using it as a mic.

“The persons of interest are local,” Rebus went on. “I don’t doubt tongues are wagging…”

Then he got into his car and started the engine.

Was he heading home? He wasn’t sure. First he drove to Rosemarkie and cruised past the lock-up. Kenny Magrath’s van was parked in front, and Rebus stopped, getting out to peer through its windows again. It looked exactly the same as before, except for a Tupperware box and a Thermos—lunch prepared by Maggie, at a guess. A leftover sandwich was visible through the plastic. The lock-up itself still boasted its padlock. Rebus walked around the vehicle. It was small, with thin tires, their tread reduced through use. Could a van like this have been driven into the woods at Edderton without getting stuck? Rebus checked for damage but didn’t find any, just a bit of mud. The van was only a year or so old, judging by the number plate. He was walking around it again, checking more closely for nonexistent scrapes and scuffs, when the forensics team arrived. There were four of them—two in a Ford Transit and two in a Vauxhall Astra. One of them recognized Rebus from the Portakabin at Edderton. He jutted out his chin and gave a twitch of the head, as much acknowledgment as Rebus was going to get.

Before anyone else could ask who he was or demand ID, Rebus garnered all the authority he could muster and explained that they would find the lock-up well organized and with few obvious hiding places.

“You might want to check the perimeter,” he added. “If he’s kept any trophies, I doubt they’re going to be under your noses.”

“Why do you say that?” he was asked.

“I was here with him earlier. He seemed perfectly relaxed about a search of the place.”

The questioner nodded his understanding.

“Have all the warrants been signed?” Rebus inquired, receiving another nod for his efforts. “Both brothers’ homes?”

“That’s right.”

“I think you might want to add the green Land Rover sitting outside Gregor Magrath’s place. Not sure who it belongs to, but strikes me it should be checked. More of an all-terrain vehicle than this.” Rebus gestured towards the van.