“Tell them to join me at the laird’s house in Glen Mhor and bring the forensics kit. There’s been a break-in and the laird is nowhere to be seen.” He replaced the receiver without waiting for an acknowledgement, the unwelcome thought that the laird’s disappearance was connected to the two recent murders running through his mind.

Corstorphine continued searching the house, entering each room with the expectation that he was about to meet the madman who was responsible for the murders. When the last room in the house proved to be empty he let loose a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t have to face the killer on his own. The boot room beside the kitchen held two large empty dog baskets. The dogs would have put up a fight if someone had broken in, Corstorphine thought. Perhaps the laird had been out when it happened? Suddenly berating himself for being slow on the uptake, he headed for the cupboard which he knew contained the CCTV recorder – thankfully it was still running. He played it back, looking for signs of an intruder. Nothing for Wednesday. The house seemed deserted and the laird’s Land Rover didn’t make a showing on the camera facing the drive. Operating the rewind control until the cameras showed Tuesday morning, he played it at fast-forward. Again, nothing: no cars, no people. With a mounting sense of dread Corstorphine wound the recorder back to Monday. At last there was some normal activity to be seen; the dogs and laird rushing around as the speeded-up review accelerated through the early morning, until they left in the Land Rover at 07:13. The footage kept running until it finally picked up the intruder at 16:15. Corstorphine hit the pause button. A familiar face was clearly visible in profile – John Ackerman, the gamekeeper they’d interviewed that same day. He sped through the recording until another camera caught Ackerman leaving twenty minutes later, something bulky showing under his waxed jacket.