Last Resort (16 page)

We were several steps beyond anything I’d anticipated. No way was I giving him my actual address, so I gave him Andy’s instead.

He went to his computer and played with the keyboard for a while, then moved his mouse and clicked. The printer hummed into life, and a few minutes later, Lexie Martin had an agent, even if he was the most gullible guy in the book trade.

‘Now that I’m part of the team,’ I said, as I handed him the signed letter of agreement, which was serviceable legally but didn’t bind me actually to produce anything, ‘would it be possible to meet one of your writers? I’m a huge fan of his work. Being new to this I’d love to pick his brains, and get any tips he might give me.’

‘I’m sure that’s doable,’ he replied. ‘Who would this author be?’

‘Linton Baillie. I think
The Public Executioner
is just sensational.’

Coyle sucked in a quick breath. ‘Oh, Lexie, I’m not sure about that. Linton’s a very private person. As a fan you’ll know that his work deals with some very sensitive areas, so he has to be careful. On top of that he’s naturally shy.’

I gave him a quick eyelash flutter, and a smile. ‘I’ll be gentle with him, I promise. Honestly, I am his number one fan. It would be a privilege to meet him.’ I leaned towards him, so that C and C, who were still showing the effects of my being underdressed in Coyle’s under-heated office, stood out boldly against their covering. ‘I’d be very grateful,’ I purred, ‘to you both.’

His eyes widened, emphasising the bags beneath them. For a moment I was afraid he was going to ask for a quick flash. I’m not sure how I would have dealt with that, but I wasn’t put to the test, for he nodded, and said, ‘I’ll consult with Linton and see what he says. I’m sure I can persuade him to meet you, especially when I tell him how, er, enthusiastic, you are. I’d do it now, Lexie, but,’ he sighed, as if he’d been anticipating a little gratitude in advance, ‘unfortunately I’m meeting another client, Jean Shields, in the Sheraton Hotel at eleven, and I must be going there now. But I do promise I will speak to him as soon as Jean and I have finished our business. I’ll call you later on today, I promise.’

Two minutes later I was back in Henderson Row, heading for the bus stop. My Hippie Hannah Afghan was pulled around me very tight indeed.

Seventeen

W
hen I stepped back into my apartment, just after eleven fifteen, my voicemail indicator showed that I had three messages. Unfortunately I couldn’t access them without the handset, and I’d broken that beyond repair.

There were missed calls and voice messages on my mobile also, two of each. I resisted them for as long as I could, but finally I gave in.

The first caller wasn’t as expected. No, it was my old boss, Mitch Laidlaw, asking me if I’d call him on his mobile, urgently. He’d been in touch a couple of times since I’d gone, to see if I was wavering, but on each occasion it had been through his PA, not on his private phone.

I rang him back straight away. ‘Thanks for calling, Alex. I have a job for you, if you’d be prepared to take it on.’

I sighed. ‘Mitch, I appreciate that you’re trying to help, and that I owe you a lot. Call me an ungrateful cow if you like, but I am determined about this.’

‘I know you are,’ he said, ‘but it isn’t our kind of job. It’s one that might kick-start your new career.’

That was intriguing. ‘Then tell me about it, please.’

‘The son of a friend has landed in a spot of bother,’ Mitch began. ‘He was picked up in a nightclub last night for possession of cocaine. The story I’ve been given is that he was in the gents and someone he knew offered him a line. The lad swears he’s not a habitual user, but he’d had a couple of drinks and thought he’d try it, to see what all the fuss was about, as he put it. He was bent over it, snorting, when a man stepped out of one of the toilet cubicles . . . a police officer.’

‘A cop on his own?’ I asked.

‘Yes. I think he was genuinely off duty, but chose not to turn a blind eye. When he challenged the two of them, Jamie’s so-called friend denied all knowledge of the drugs, and now the sod’s given a statement corroborating the officer’s story.’

‘That’s tough luck on the kid, Mitch, but where do I come in?’

‘Jamie’s surname is Middleton. He’s eighteen years old. His father’s Easson Middleton.’

‘As in Easson Middleton QC.’

‘Exactly. The top man in the criminal Bar, and Vice-Dean of the Faculty of Advocates. He can’t act for the boy himself, and he doesn’t want to go to an established firm of solicitors, because he’s instructed by most of them and doesn’t want to be seen to be playing favourites. I’ve told him about you and he’s asked if you’d be prepared to take him on, in the early stages at least.’

‘Mitch,’ I said, ‘I don’t know if I can.’

‘There’s no reason why not. This is a relatively minor offence and it’ll never get past the Sheriff Court. Ideally it won’t go to court at all, if the fiscal can be convinced that one of his witnesses is lying.’

‘Where’s Jamie now? In custody?’

‘No, he was charged this morning then bailed on his own recognisance, to appear in court on a future date.’

I was tempted, but uncertain. ‘Are you sure I’m up to this?’

‘If I wasn’t we wouldn’t be speaking. Alex, if it goes to court, so be it; you won’t have made things any worse. If you can cast doubt on the corroborating witness, and the charge is dropped, great. If not, and you can persuade the Crown Office to ask the sheriff for an absolute discharge in return for a guilty plea, that would be second best.’

‘What’s behind this?’ I asked. ‘The kid snorted the coke, that doesn’t seem to be in dispute, but a minor drugs conviction is hardly career-wrecking these days.’

‘It might be in this case. Jamie’s a golfer, a very good one. He has a sports scholarship lined up with a university in Florida, beginning next year. I don’t have to tell you that the US authorities take a very hard line on admitting people with any sort of conviction.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll do what I can. Where can I see him?’

‘You can use this office . . . you’re still a partner of record here.’

‘No thanks, I don’t want people getting confused.’

‘Mmm, maybe not. Tell you what, I’ll have Easson book one of the faculty’s rooms, in the consultation centre. How soon can you see him?’

‘This afternoon if his dad can fix it.’

‘I’ll get on it and let you know. It should be okay.’

‘Fine. I have just one question. Who’s the arresting officer?’

‘I’m told his name’s Montell, Detective Sergeant Griffin Montell. Can’t say I know him.’

I grinned from ear to ear; my day had just taken a turn for the better. ‘I do,’ I chuckled, ‘and something tells me that our boy is going to be all right.’

I was still smiling well after Mitch had gone. From out of nowhere I had two jobs, putative novelist and criminal defence solicitor, one fantasy, the other very real. I was so pumped up that I forgot about my other voicemail message until I’d finished dressing in my business clothes.

I picked up my phone to access it, but before I could do so, an incoming call interrupted me. It was Mitch again; Easson Middleton had moved fast. I had an appointment to meet him and his son in the Advocates’ Consultation Centre at two o’clock that afternoon, in less than two hours.

Finally I got back into my mailbox; the second message was from Andy, as I’d expected.

I’d been hoping for a little contrition, but I didn’t hear any.

‘Alex, I hope you’ve had time to calm down,’ he began. ‘I’m sorry that I told you what I’ve decided on the phone and not face to face, but I don’t think it would have made any difference. I’m doing one of the most important jobs in Scotland, possibly the most. I have to be properly located for it. I’d hoped you’d accept that, and accommodate me, but it seems that your selfish streak will never go away.’

‘You bastard!’ I hissed.

‘To be frank, I’ve been concerned ever since you embarked on this career change. With all your connections, I’ve got no doubt that you’ll be successful and that before long you’ll be a top defence lawyer. If you can’t see the conflict between that job and mine, then you’re walking around with your eyes closed.

‘I’ve loved you from the moment we got together, but I don’t believe we’ve ever been compatible. If you think about it you might come to agree with me. It’s best that we agree to be friends from now on, and back off from everything else.

‘You don’t need to return this call, unless you want to scream at me some more. When you’re ready, perhaps we can meet over dinner. I assume you weren’t serious about buying the house, but if I’m wrong, call my solicitor before next week, and he’ll sort out terms.’

I stared at the phone. For the first time since I was sixteen years old, I’d been chucked.

‘I’ll never be ready, Andy,’ I whispered. ‘I don’t care how important your job is, or how menial. It’s more important than me, and that’s all that matters.’

I was still gazing at it when the ring tone sounded again, and Coyle’s number showed on screen. I accepted the call, switching into Lexie mode.

‘Tommy,’ I chirped. ‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. Have you found me a publisher already?’

‘I’m still working on that, dear. I’m calling to say that Linton’s agreed to meet you. He isn’t normally interested in helping other writers, but when I told him what a sweet girl you are, and how grateful you’d be, that did the trick. He says he’ll be at home this evening if you’d care to call on him, any time after eight. His address is twenty-seven slash two slash c Portland Street, in Slateford.’

‘Really?’ I gushed. ‘Really’ seemed to be Lexie’s favourite word. ‘That’s wonderful of you, Tommy. He’s going to teach me lots of stuff I didn’t know, I’m sure. Thank you so much.’

And I’m going to give him a couple of lessons in life
, I thought as I closed the mobile.

I checked my watch. I’d time for a quick salad lunch before my meeting with the Middletons; time for that, and one more phone call. I threw some Chinese leaves, peppers, corn and a couple of quail’s eggs into a bowl, dressed them with a mix of extra virgin, balsamic vinegar and a little mustard, then put it on a tray with a bottle of water and took it into the living room.

When I was finished, I made that call.

‘Alex,’ Griff Montell exclaimed, ‘this is a surprise. Should I be talking to you or will it come back to bite me if the big boss man hears about it? It took me long enough to get my promotion; I wouldn’t want to blow it.’

‘You’re in no danger of that,’ I promised him.

Griff and I have history, of a friendly kind. When I was in Stockbridge, he and his twin sister lived next door, having come to Scotland from South Africa, for personal reasons. He needed to make enough money to support his kids from a failed marriage, and she left because she’d been unhappy there as a gay woman.

Griff got me out of a difficult situation once, and I was duly grateful. As I said, we were friends, but sometimes the journey from my place to his was just too long for him to contemplate, so he stayed over.

Those days are well behind us. He’s never been in my new apartment.

‘How are you and Alice?’ I asked. I’d heard on the grapevine that he’s involved seriously now with a former colleague, a woman called Alice Cowan.

‘We’re good, thanks, better since she left the force. So,’ he said, briskly, ‘what’s this about? Need a shoulder to cry on?’

‘Hell, no! What was that Amy Winehouse song?’

‘“Love is a Losing Game”?’

‘Close but I was thinking about “Tears Dry on their Own”. No, chum, this is business. It has to do with a client of mine, Jamie Middleton.’

‘Him? How? Why? You’re corporate.’

‘Not any more. I’ve just been retained by his father.’

‘Then listen carefully, Alex; the boy’s done. I caught him with a tube full of blow up his nose. Wrong toilet, wrong time and tough on him but I couldn’t walk away.’

‘Your witness did, though.’

‘No. He swore he was clean. The first thing I did was pat him down, and he was.’

‘What did Jamie say?’

‘That the boy had provided it.’

‘Why didn’t you believe him?’

He laughed. ‘Because it didn’t matter. Your client still had the tube in his fucking nose while he was telling me!’

‘Did you have the tube tested?’

‘No, but there was no need.’

‘I’m going to want that done; when I do, your witness’s prints and DNA will be all over it. I’m going to kill your corroboration, Griff. This case is going to trial.’

‘You’re pulling my chain!’ he gasped.

‘I’m pulling nothing. I’m going to plead him “Not guilty”; the fiscal’s going to need you as a witness. That’s going to be awkward, is it not?’

He knew what I meant, only too well. He’s Special Branch, and the force doesn’t like them to be identified. ‘Only if you choose to make it that way,’ he countered.

‘That’s true, but I won’t have a choice. The fiscal has, though.’

‘What do you want?’

‘A slap on the wrist, no more; an informal police caution, but nothing that goes on his record or can ever be used against him.’

‘I can’t do that deal, Alex, you know that.’

‘I know but the fiscal can. I’d like you to speak to whoever’s handling the case and explain the facts of life. I’m seeing Jamie at two; a call shortly after that would be appreciated.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. Lizzie Baines is the depute involved.’

‘I know her,’ I told him. ‘We were in the same year at university. We got on all right.’

‘Then let’s hope that helps your boy. Like I said, flower, I’ve got nothing against him. I saw what I saw, that’s all there was to it.’

‘Understood. Thanks, Griff.’

‘’S okay. It’s great to hear from you again. You sound different, somehow.’

‘You mean older?’

‘No, I mean the opposite. You come across as happy, in a good place; I like that.’

‘So do you,’ I replied. He might have been flattering me, but I meant it.

‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘I’ve moved in with Alice.’

‘That’s nice. Take care of her.’

While he made his call to the fiscal, or so I hoped, I left for my meeting. I walked there, three-quarters of the way up the Royal Mile, and arrived with five minutes to spare.

Easson Middleton QC was waiting for me; a tall, stick-thin, austere man, dressed in senior counsel clothes: dark jacket, pinstripe trousers and a blue and white striped shirt.

‘Ms Skinner,’ he greeted me, ‘this is an unexpected turn of events. In other circumstances it would be a pleasure. Is there any part of Mitch’s brief that you don’t understand?’

I shook my head. ‘I have a grasp of it, I believe. This is about damage limitation.’

He sighed. ‘In a bloody nutshell; silly young bugger.’

‘How far do you want me to take this?’ I asked. ‘If I can’t keep it out of court, do you want me to plead the case, or will you appear for Jamie?’

‘I can’t do that. I have too many enemies on the Bench, even at Sheriff Court level. It’s your brief, and you take it all the way . . . as I fear you’ll have to. The lad was caught bang to rights; because I am who I am, I can’t see the fiscal being lenient.’

My first criminal client, a stocky kid, was waiting for us in a small consulting room. He was wearing a school blazer with a familiar crest, and a worried expression. His father asked me, properly, if I wanted to see him on my own, but I told him I was quite happy for him to sit in.

‘Do you know what’s at stake here?’ I asked the boy as soon as we’d been introduced. ‘Uncle Sam’s a real arsehole when it comes to letting convicted felons into the country.’

He nodded. ‘College is really important to me, Ms Skinner. Would they really cancel my scholarship?’

‘In favour of a clean-cut all-American boy, with an unblemished record?’ I said. ‘What do you think?’ I didn’t let him dwell on it. ‘You told the police that you’d never done drugs before. Was that true?’

He reddened. ‘Well . . . I’ve smoked a wee bit of puff,’ he admitted. ‘Hasn’t everybody?’

‘I haven’t, Jamie. But when I was a kid my dad was head of the drugs squad, so I had a powerful disincentive. Your story is that the boy you were with supplied the cocaine. Is that true?’

He frowned and shook his head. ‘No, we bought it between us from a dealer in the club. Donnie made the buy though,’ he added.

‘But you paid for your share?’

‘Yes.’ Middleton senior buried his face in his hands.