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Authors: Craig Robertson

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Then back further through the timeline. A couple of exterior shots. One highlighting what might have been the other side of the same window, a few feet above a red-metal exterior door that
itself sat at the top of a fire escape, perhaps round the rear of the building. Winter himself would have looked at that as a likely entrance. Places with nothing in them weren't as secure as
they might otherwise have been.

Back another frame. The same fire escape, the same door and unguarded window. But this time there was someone making their way down the stairs. Winter had checked the digital time stamp and knew
this was just a few minutes
before
Euan had gone inside. He'd taken two photographs of this other person, one at the top of the stairs then another halfway down, then had entered the
building once the mystery figure had left. The person walking down the stairs was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt and jeans. The hood was up, covering their face.

His
face. It was a man. A second look had made him sure of it and Rachel no doubt thought the same now. The width of the shoulders, the size. Euan had photographed this man leaving via
the fire escape then had gone inside by the same route.

The photographs were all dated 10 September. Right on the money for the time they thought Jennifer Cairns was murdered.

He watched her rub at her cheekbone as she processed what she was seeing. Her eyebrows were knotted in concentration and he wondered if she was debating the same things he had.

‘Okay,' she said at last. ‘I'll repeat my question while I try to make sense of this. Do you think Euan Hepburn killed Jennifer Cairns? And who is that in the
hoodie?'

‘Well . . . first of all you'll have noticed the date on these.'

‘Of course I have! It could be coincidental but let's assume that it's not. It's when Jen Cairns was murdered.'

‘Yes. So there's two potential scenarios here. Basically either that Euan was with this guy or he wasn't. It could be that the other man was checking out a possible entry and
then gave the thumbs-up and Euan went in too. If that's what happened then yes, maybe he killed her or helped kill her.'

‘Or?'

‘Or Euan photographs him, just out of curiosity or his sense of mischief. Thinks, this guy's been in there and I'll be doing the same. Probably thinks nothing more of it. But
maybe the other guy turned for one last look before he left and saw Euan go in, camera in hand?'

She was nodding. ‘If he saw Euan go in then maybe he'd be worried about what he might find in there. And he'd be scared that Euan had almost certainly seen him.'

‘And then it would have been easy enough to track Euan down. Wait for him to come out maybe. Or place a message on the forum asking about the Odeon, drawing out anyone with even the
slightest temptation to brag about being inside. Euan would have come running. He wouldn't have been able to help himself.'

‘This mystery man befriends him, goes urbexing with him. Persuades him to explore the Molendinar Burn. Then cuts his throat.'

‘Yes.'

She stared at the screen for a while longer. ‘Who's the man in the hoodie?'

Winter didn't reply but brought up an image from the black building at Gartnavel, the photograph showing the pale blue room and the wooden-panelled walls. The one showing the photographer
and his companion reflected on the glass doors. The other person wore a dark hooded sweatshirt and jeans.

‘That's all you have?'

‘It's all there was. One, probably accidental, photograph. Dated ten days after the ones taken at the Odeon. And a few days before Euan was killed.'

‘So why do you think Hepburn wasn't involved in killing Cairns? Seeing as he seemed to be there.'

‘A few things. First, I just don't think Euan was capable of something like that, murdering a woman. Second, it doesn't add up that he'd hide and photograph while his pal
checked out the entry. That's not what he would do. Third, there is no sign of him knowing this other guy until after the Odeon. But also, most of all—'

‘The killing hasn't stopped.'

‘Yes. I'm sure this guy' - he jabbed a finger at the laptop screen - ‘killed Jennifer Cairns then killed Euan to cover it up.'

She didn't take her eyes off the screen, seeing the similarity between the hooded figure and the third man heading for the factory the night before. She finished off the picture.
‘And Remy Feeks stumbled across the body that hoodie guy thought would never be found. Then he - and you - went sticking his nose in. And Feeks got himself killed.'

There was recrimination in her voice. Anger and fear too. It could as easily have been him. She just looked at him for an age. He curled up inside under her gaze and felt her unpicking him at
the seams.

‘How long have you had these photographs?'

‘Just a few days.'

‘A few minutes was long enough. You should have given them to me.'

‘I couldn't have told you how I got them. It would have put you in a bad position.'

She couldn't help but laugh. ‘And I'm not now? Have you any idea how much pressure I'm under and how many people are just dying for me to fall flat on my face? Forget
that though, forget that I could lose my job and the case. Think about what this could do to you and me. Have you stopped to think about that at all?'

‘Yes! Of course I have.'

‘Good, because, God help me, I love you. If I had to choose between you and keeping my job, then, even though it probably makes me crazy, I'd choose you. But I'd really rather
not have to choose. You understand that, right?'

He was stunned. He honestly didn't think she would choose anyone or anything over her job with the possible exception of her dad and his health. He nodded without being sure he really did
understand.

She put her hand against his injured side and pushed, hard enough for it to hurt. It showed on his face and she nodded in satisfaction.

‘Remember how much it hurts. People are getting killed, Tony. You can't put yourself in the way of that.'

‘It's
because
they've been killed that I've
got
to do this.'

‘No, no way. You're not going all John Wayne on me. I've no time for a dead hero right now. I need you alive and well and I need you to remember what I've said. This is
about
us
. Do not mess it up. Do not do something so stupid that we can't get back from it.'

‘I won't.'

‘Don't keep trying to get involved in this. Do
not
lie to me. Do
not
go behind my back. Do
not
break the law. If you do, we're done.'

‘I won't.'

The words sounded hollow in his own head so he could only guess how they sounded to her.

She didn't believe him. She was sure he wanted to mean it but it didn't sound like he could keep that promise, to her or himself.
Got to do this
:
that's what he'd said. Promises were easy after that but they didn't come with the same feeling. She felt sick. Deep in her stomach it felt like something had ended.

Chapter 52

Narey dragged herself back into the station where the team had gathered to be brought up to speed with the events of the night before. Exhausted and nursing emotional bruises,
she ached for the comfort of a hot bath or her bed but she had time for neither. Everything was on the line.

Addison was waiting for her outside the door to the incident room and took her by the arm into a corner. ‘Okay, what the fuck is happening?' ‘That's what I'm about
to tell everyone.' ‘You can tell them what you like but tell me what
is
going on. What are we looking at here? I don't want questions from Crosby I don't know the
answers to. Are we looking at
six
murders? Because if we are then you're taking a back seat, whether you like it or not.' She really didn't need this. ‘I don't
think so. I think it's three and I'm getting a lot closer to getting a handle on it.'

‘You sure about that? Because all I see are bodies piling up. Give me what you have. I'm on your side, remember.'

‘It kicked off with the murder of Jennifer Cairns in the Odeon and the other two, Hepburn and Feeks, were done to cover it up. The killer is running scared and was worried they were a
threat to him.'

Addison digested the information. ‘And the other three that you brought to me? Wharton, McGlashan and Hart?'

‘I don't think they're connected. Certainly not Wharton and Hart. Whatever it's about, it's happening
now
. Hepburn had been at the Odeon and photographed
Cairns' killer. Feeks found the body in the Molendinar.'

Addison's eyes narrowed. ‘How do you know Hepburn was there?'

‘I've got his photographs.'

‘
What?
How? Where the hell did you get them?'

She hesitated. ‘An informant. Someone who can be trusted. The photos are genuine.'

He wasn't happy with that. It was nowhere near enough and they both knew it. He was trying to work out what she wasn't saying and whether he dared let her run with it. She hoped he
couldn't read her mind but feared how well he knew her.

‘You're taking chances, Rachel, and it's not like you. Are you sure about what you're doing? Don't leave yourself somewhere I can't help you.'

‘I need to clear this case.'

His voice hardened into a fierce whisper. ‘If you're gambling your career on this because the pressure's got to you then you're not the person I think you are.
You're better than that, Rachel, so act like it. Use your head and do the right thing. What do I need to know?'

He was right, about all of it. In the instant of realizing that, she felt a relief she hadn't known all morning.

‘The photographs came from Tony.'

Addison said nothing but just looked at her, waiting for the rest.

‘He had been best friends with Hepburn years ago and he . . .' She paused. ‘He felt the need to find out what happened. He found Hepburn's camera. He also went out with a
group of urbexers to the old railway line at the Botanics and got photographs of them.'

Addison rubbed at his eyes and swore quietly under his breath. ‘Remind me to kill him if you haven't already done it. Where is the camera now?'

‘Back where he found it in Hepburn's flat. He just took copies from the memory card.'

‘Did he wear gloves?'

She nodded.

‘Okay, so your informant told you where the camera might be. Go get it and find the photographs for yourself. Anything Tony took at the Botanics is fine - he did it as a member of the
public. And as a twat.'

‘What about the briefing?'

He looked at his watch. ‘Get back here in an hour and I'll postpone it till then. They can moan all they want. Just make sure you get this right.'

She was back in forty-five minutes, the camera found and bagged, the relevant photographs made ready to show to the troops on the PowerPoint. The break, and Addison's
words, had given her back some control. The pressure was still there but she was in slightly better shape to handle it. She had to do her job.

DCS Crosby was there, standing at the back of the room with his arms crossed and a sombre expression. She avoided his gaze and tried to forget he was there at all.

She took the squad through everything they had on Remy Feeks and where she thought he fitted into the timeline. She laid out her theory and watched them take it in. One murder, two more as
cover-up. It was her best guess, her gut feeling and the logical conclusion.

Not everyone was impressed and she saw the same sceptical faces wrinkle in doubt: Petrie, Storey and McTeer chief among them. There was chatter and shoulders being shrugged, whispers and shared
looks.

It was Storey, not surprisingly, who stood and challenged her. He made a point of looking troubled but she could see he was loving it.

‘What about these other deaths?' He pointed over to the three faces to the right. ‘Last time we were all in here you were telling us how they were all part of this and now
we've to forget about them. I'm a bit confused. How much are you just guessing here?'

‘
DI Storey!
' Heads turned to see it was Crosby who was shouting at him. ‘If you were listening you'd know the answer to your question. DI Narey is giving you the
best analysis she can of a changing situation. If you're taking advantage of that to score some points then maybe this team isn't the place for you. Is that what you're
doing?'

Storey shrank. ‘No, sir. Understood, sir.'

‘Good. I trust the rest of you are in the same position. Eyes front, shut up and listen.'

She looked at Crosby and gave him a small, grateful nod of the head and carried on. Even as she did so, she knew his intervention was a mixed blessing. All well and good as long as she was right
and some more rope to hang by if she wasn't.

She took them through Cairns, Hepburn and Feeks, point by point. She went through everything they knew about the locations, the motives and the photographs. Almost everything.

Since the meeting had broken up, she'd gone back to basics herself. She went over it all in her head, brainstorming and questioning every decision she'd made,
making a list of names and scribbling notes against each.

She had already been through Winter's muddled set of notes twice. She'd read each name and nickname from the Botanics and the forum, looked at the photographs and checked out the
website again. She'd made a new list, scoring names out, adding them back in again. She'd searched everything available to try to ascertain just who these people were.

There was too much she didn't know. Did they have one account on this bloody website or two? How could she be sure of their movements at any given time when they could say they were
crawling around in some old school or exploring a tunnel somewhere under the city?

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