‘Goodbye then,’ Rebus said, putting down the phone. He looked at Siobhan.

‘Investments?’ she echoed.

‘And who would he trust if not the father of his daughter’s best friend?’

Siobhan nodded. ‘John Balfour’s about to bury his daughter,’ she reminded him.

‘Then we’ll talk to someone else at the bank.’

Siobhan smiled. ‘I know just the man …’

Ranald Marr was at Junipers, so they drove out to Falls. Siobhan asked if they could stop and look at the waterfall. A couple of tourists were doing the same thing. The man was taking a photo of his wife. He asked Rebus if he’d take one of the pair of them together. His voice was Edinburgh.

‘What brings you here?’ Rebus asked, feigning innocence.

‘Same thing as you most likely,’ the man said, positioning himself next to his wife. ‘Make sure you get the wee waterfall in.’

‘You mean you’re here because of the coffin?’ Rebus said, peering through the view-finder.

‘Aye, well, she’s dead now, isn’t she?’

‘She is that,’ Rebus said.

‘Sure you’re getting us in?’ the man asked worriedly.

‘Perfect,’ Rebus said, pressing the button. When the film was developed, there’d be a picture of sky and trees, nothing more.

‘Wee tip,’ the man said, taking his camera back. He nodded towards one of the trees. ‘She’s the one found the coffin.’

Rebus looked. There was a crude sign pinned to the tree, advertising Bev Dodds’s Pottery. A hand-drawn map showed her cottage. ‘Pottery for Sale, Teas and Coffees.’ She was branching out.

‘Did she show you it?’ Rebus asked, knowing fine well the answer. The Falls coffin was locked away with the others at St Leonard’s.

The tourist shook his head in disappointment. ‘Police are holding on to it.’

Rebus nodded. ‘So where’s your next stop?’

‘Thought we’d go look at Junipers,’ his wife said. ‘Always supposing we can find it. Took us half an hour to find this place.’ She looked at Siobhan. ‘They don’t believe in signposts out here, do they?’

‘I know where Junipers is.’ Rebus spoke authoritatively. ‘You head back down the lane, left through the town. There’s a housing scheme on the right called Meadowside. Drive into it and you’ll see Junipers just beyond.’

The man beamed. ‘Magic, thanks a lot.’

‘No problem,’ Rebus told him. The tourists waved their goodbyes, eager to be back on the trail.

Siobhan sidled over towards Rebus. ‘Completely erroneous?’

‘They’ll be lucky to get out of Meadowside with four tyres still on their car.’ He grinned at her. ‘My good deed for the day.’

Back in the car, Rebus turned to Siobhan. ‘How do you want to play this?’

‘First off, I want to know if Marr’s a Mason.’

Rebus nodded. ‘I’ll handle that.’

‘Then I think we dive straight in with Hugo Benzie.’

Rebus was still nodding. ‘Which one of us asks the questions?’

Siobhan sat back. ‘Let’s play it by ear, see which one of us Marr prefers.’ Rebus looked at her. ‘You don’t agree?’ she asked.