His email chimed, announcing the arrival of the Inverness forensics report – he scanned the document: no fingerprints, no DNA. There was a paragraph about the gears left in the tree, without any conclusion as to their use. One item leapt out at him. They’d performed a sweep with a metal detector around the bracken surrounding the tree and had found a single coin. The comment suggested it had only recently been left there as it was in near-mint condition, no obvious signs of handling were visible apart from a fine metal spiral attached to the centre. He looked at the photograph more closely. This wasn’t some loose change from Oscar’s pockets, it was a 1000 lire coin minted by the Vatican. The profile of Pope Paul II adorned the obverse, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Marlon Brando in the Godfather. Corstorphine printed the forensics report and stared at the photograph they’d taken of the coin, spinning the page to read the date stamped into the gold surface – MCMXCVII. He wrestled unsuccessfully with the translation of Roman numerals to something that made sense, before finally giving up and entering it into Google. The result came back as 1997. The next page of the report showed a picture of the reverse of the coin, a coat of arms bearing crossed keys were visible as well as the date written in Arabic numerals, confirming the Google translation. He leaned back in the leather seat, wondering if this was a deliberate message left for them to find. Did it signify a Mafia connection, or was there a link to the Catholic church? Corstorphine shook his head, that Godfather similarity must be clouding his judgement – even the Mafia’s reach wouldn’t extend to some rogue gamekeeper in a Highland glen. Oscar’s post mortem offered no clues either. Cause of death was a broken neck and severed windpipe; no other significant injuries were reported.

Corstorphine leant back in his seat, imagining Oscar’s last few minutes. How had he not seen the snare? Had it been set overnight? That would explain why he hadn’t noticed it during the day. Driving down the glen first thing in the morning, the sun would have been in his eyes, he could easily have missed seeing the snare in the tree’s shadow. Then what was the point of all the bone gears, was someone leaving a message or were they part of the snare apparatus? Whoever had left it for him must have known that Oscar would drive right into it, they weren’t simply trying to frighten him. Same with the minister. Dropping a bloody great bell on him from that height wasn’t offering him much hope of survival. Two definite murders, almost certainly the same killer – yet the murderer was careful enough to not be present at either death or, so far at least, leave any forensic evidence that could be used in a prosecution case. Either the murderer was incredibly lucky, or very, very careful.