Private Investigations by Quintin Jardine Page B

them?’
    She responded with a smile. ‘Oh yes. Business is good. I’m glad I took that extra room. I may need to fill it soon. I’ve just been hired for the defence in a corporate fraud case, involving one of my old clients from CAJ. I’m being formally introduced in the Court of Session on Wednesday morning, so I’ll be able to appear at the first High Court hearing.’
    ‘Are you going to lead?’ I asked.
    ‘Hell no,’ she exclaimed. ‘This is a complicated, high-stakes trial; I don’t have anywhere near enough experience. I can do a lot of the preparation but I’ve instructed Easson Middleton to lead, with me as his junior.’
    My pride indicator went up by at least five points. Easson Middleton is the top QC on the criminal bar, and for Alex even to be sat beside him in court would be a strong marker. ‘How long will it last?’
    ‘Potentially weeks,’ she replied. ‘That’s why I may need to pass on some Sheriff Court work to an associate. But it’ll all depend on pre-trial negotiations.’
    I grinned. ‘Plea bargaining?’
    ‘Come on, Pops,’ she scolded, ‘you know we don’t call it that. There’s a whole raft of charges in the case; if we can persuade the Crown to drop some in exchange for guilty pleas in others, it will cut down trial time.’
    ‘Will the trial judge agree?’ I wondered.
    ‘I expect so,’ she said. ‘There would be no jail time involved in any of the charges we’re looking at. If Lady Broughton gives us the nod that she’ll deal with them with modest fines, it’ll be sorted. And she will. She doesn’t want to be stuck there for three months when it could all be over in one.’
    ‘Good luck.’ I paused. ‘Hey,’ I chuckled, ‘will you need an investigator?’
    She angled her head back and looked at me. ‘Are you kidding? We couldn’t afford you.’
    ‘Well, somebody can,’ I countered. ‘I’ve just been engaged by a man with a problem. And you’ll never guess who it is.’
    ‘That’s probably true,’ she agreed, ‘but clearly you’re bursting to tell me, so go ahead.’
    ‘Eden Higgins,’ I announced, no doubt with a smirk on my face.
    ‘Alison’s brother?’ Alex exclaimed. ‘The man with the boat that you fell in love with . . . after you fell in love with his sister?’
    I nodded. ‘The same. You’re right about the boat,’ I added, ‘but wrong about her. I never did that.’
    ‘Hmph,’ she snorted. ‘You could have fooled me at the time. What problem could Eden possibly have?’ she asked. ‘He’s so rich he could make any trouble go away.’
    ‘Not this one,’ I told her; then I filled her in on my lunch date, and on the commission I’d accepted. ‘I’ve asked Mario to give me the police report,’ I added.
    She frowned. ‘Will Andy let him do that?’
    I shrugged. ‘I hope so. I’m not taking anything for granted, but . . .’
    ‘As well you don’t,’ she said. ‘From what I’ve been hearing, Chief Constable Sir Andrew Martin isn’t the man that you and I have known for all these years.’
    ‘Oh yes?’ I murmured. ‘And who’s been telling you that?’
    ‘Various cops,’ Alex replied. ‘People I’ve encountered in my new line of work, who knew him before. They all say the same; he’s become distant, remote, aloof.’
    ‘Remember,’ I reminded her, ‘we’re talking about someone who broke up with you not once, but twice. It may be that he never was the man we thought we knew.’
    She turned away from me, looking out of her office’s smoked glass wall. ‘Second time around,’ she murmured, ‘I persuaded myself that we had found each other, just as you and Sarah have, at last. Then you pulled out of the running for the top job in the new force, Andy got it instead . . . and he changed, almost overnight. My police friends didn’t have to tell me that, because I knew already; I’d seen it for myself, close up.’
    She faced me once more, looking up at me as I leaned against the door. ‘Do you