Corstorphine crossed over to the incident board, drawing a diagonal red line for Brian Rankin’s death on the top row where he shared space with Oscar, the minister and the laird. He replayed the last call he’d had with Brian before the line had gone dead. Brian had specifically named Lord Lagan from the House of Lords. Had he made this final confession knowing he was about to kill himself? One last attempt to make amends after hiding the truth for so many years? This was the same name that June Stevens’ notebook contained. If someone so senior was involved in child abuse, it would explain the lack of prosecutions, a blind eye being turned. It would also explain Brian’s behaviour in covering up the abuse, even his reason for covering up June’s murder if he had been leant on hard enough. His eye fell on the five children’s black and white photographs at the bottom of the board, two of whose bloodied bodies Brian Rankin had seen and kept quiet about. What if the lord’s particular peccadillo had caused the death of some of his victims? Was that why only two of the survivors had named him? Had Lord Lagan purposefully crushed the life out of those small bodies for some sick thrill? Corstorphine felt anger seething just underneath the surface – they’d need to do more than lean on him to keep him quiet.