“What was Oscar doing at the orphanage?” Corstorphine queried. “He had parents.”

“Oh, Oscar was the minister’s favourite. He brought him along for all the special parties.”

Corstorphine formally finished the interview at 10:55, and had the sergeant accompany George back to an unlocked cell. He felt physically and mentally drained, but at least he now had the names of the children in the photographs and the names of five children whose deaths were never reported. Just one interview to go.

“Bill?” The PC was typing up the sheriff’s death on the report sheet. “Leave that. I want this audio recording typed up as soon as you can. Get George Winter to read and sign it, then countersign, date and time. Take two copies.”

He walked over to the front desk to see what the growing commotion was. Hamish was trying to fend off a growing melee of reporters. “Clear reception, Hamish, and lock the doors.” In a louder voice, he addressed the throng. “You’ll get a statement in good time. In the meantime, we have a job to do.” He spotted Josephine trying to get through the crowd of reporters and film crew and motioned her to go around the back to the car park.

“I had a message that you have some information for me?” She seemed totally unfazed by the scrum of reporters out front.

He locked the rear door before anyone else had the bright idea of entering the station that way. “Come with me.”

His office was an oasis of calm in the midst of a growing storm. “You’ve heard the laird has been found dead?”

“Why do you think I’m here? It was all around town by 9:00 a.m. I’ve been trying to call you, but the lines are always busy.”

“Yes, well, we didn’t design the comms infrastructure with the expectation that we’d be in the centre of a major murder enquiry. Listen, I don’t have much time. Did you bring the notebook and transcription?”

She dug around in her over-shoulder bag and produced two clear plastic folders. “My editor said you’d have a warrant before I hand these over?”

“I’ll have a warrant for you eventually. In the meantime, I’m going to give you everything I know.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Why would you do that? You could jeopardise any prosecution, never mind lose your job!”

Corstorphine offered her a thin smile. “This is what I want you to do with the information.”

It had gone 11:30 a.m. by the time Josephine slipped out the back door, shorthand pad full of hastily constructed hieroglyphs. Still no sign of the Assistant Chief. At least something was going his way today.

“OK, Frankie, how’s the statement looking?”

“Finished, sir, and Margo’s signed it. She had one look at the front door and decided to stay here a while.”