“Her reporter’s notebook and all it contains remain the property of the Courier. I’ll share some of what she wrote down, but if you want to take the notebook as evidence you’ll have to apply for a warrant. And to do that you have to officially reopen the investigation into June’s death.”

Frankie stared at her screen as the call ended, eyes unfocussed as the enormity of what she’d just been told hit home. Where was bloody Corstorphine when she needed him? “Anyone know where the DI has gone?”

“He left twenty minutes ago, said he wanted to go over a few things with Brian Rankin,” Bill McAdam advised.

This was so far above her pay grade. She grabbed her car keys and broke out an evidence bag, just in case.

“Off to the Courier,” she called to the two bobbies and keyed in Corstorphine’s mobile number as she headed out again. “Come on, pick up!” The phone rang on and on before finally switching to voicemail. She terminated the call, stabbing at her phone in frustration. “Why don’t you pick up?”

Corstorphine had just parked outside the old DI’s neat bungalow, reaching into his jacket pocket on the back seat to retrieve his mobile. Missed call from Frankie. “It can wait,” he muttered to himself. “First I need some answers.”

Brian Rankin came out of his garden gate even as Corstorphine opened the car door. “Brian, can I have a word, in private?”

The old DI’s head shot up in surprise. “James! I didn’t see you there, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I hope not,” Corstorphine countered. “Where are you going, can I give you a lift?”

“I’m just off to the newsagents. Been following the double murder investigation. You can’t take the detective out of me that easily.”

Corstorphine felt the implied rebuke that Brian had to buy the paper because his old work colleagues no longer involved him in any of their cases. “I’ll run you there. Hop in.”

He held the passenger door open for the retired inspector. “I wanted to talk to you about this double murder case anyway.”

“Of course, anything I can do to help.”

Corstorphine noticed the guarded look that the old detective sent his way and decided that going in straight for the kill would be the optimum approach. “Have you been talking to the ACC, asking him to warn me off looking into the June Stevens hanging case?”

“The Assistant Chief Constable? Why would I have anything to do with someone that senior? I’m retired, James. Old and retired and put out to pasture. No, I don’t know who could be responsible for interfering in your work but it’s nothing to do with me!”

Corstorphine’s eyebrow rose a few millimetres. Brian’s voice sounded too outraged. A detective trying to fool another… good luck with that, Corstorphine thought.