Dead And Buried

‘You’ve got a point there, I suppose,’ Bob admitted grudgingly. ‘Okay, the intercept is lifted, but put your phone on auto answer mode as a means of filtering your calls. And make damn sure your alarm’s on night setting.’

‘Are you trying to reassure yourself or scare me?’

‘Sorry, love; the truth is I’m just scaring myself. Do it for me, though.’

‘I will. But what makes you assume that I won’t have a bodyguard tonight anyway?’

‘Indeed? And will you?’

‘Time will tell, Father, time will tell.’

Forty-four

Aileen reached across the table and took his hand. ‘You’re very tense,’ she told him. ‘And you’ve been glancing around the restaurant all through the meal, as if you’re afraid we’re being watched.’ She frowned. ‘We’re not, are we?’

Bob shook his head. ‘No, you can relax on that score. Nobody followed me from my hotel, and there’s no closed-circuit camera in this restaurant.’

‘Are you saying that you thought you might be followed?’

‘I didn’t discount the possibility. I doubled back on myself a couple of times, and stopped in a pub on the way. If there was anyone, I’ve shaken them off.’

‘But why would anybody do that?’

‘For a variety of reasons; curiosity, for example. They don’t let too many outsiders into the building where I’m based. Some of the staff might have decided to find out what I’m up to. On the other hand, someone on high might have decided to give me some discreet protection, whether I want it or not.’

Anxiety crept into her eyes. ‘Bob, this thing that you’re doing, is it dangerous?’

‘I don’t think it is,’ he told her. ‘It’s taken a couple of unexpected turns, though.’

‘Can you tell me any more than you have already?’

‘Your security clearance may be top level in Scotland, but not down here. There is something I might ask you to do for me, though, a piece of special help that I’d only trust you to give.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I’ll tell you if it’s necessary.’

She smiled. ‘Darling, I don’t know if I want to sleep with someone who’s as paranoid as you. Go on, give me a clue.’

‘I’m sorry, Aileen,’ he sighed, ‘I’m being a pain. Okay, let me put it this way. I’m not absolutely certain that I can trust all the people I’m working with. If things take a certain turn, I might want to go over their heads. In that case, there’s a door which only you, of all the people I know, can open for me. But you’ll want to think about it: if I ask you to do this and I’m wrong, we’ll both be embarrassed.’

‘I can stand that. If you think it’s necessary, that’ll be good enough for me.’

‘That’s good.’ He grinned at her. ‘As for sleeping with paranoid men, let me tell you something. There may not be a camera in this room, but you can bet that there will be on all the accommodation floors. You’d be amazed at who can access them.’

‘Now that is what I call paranoia.’ She laughed.

‘Maybe, my love, but it is, in fact, gospel truth. If I saw you to your room, and went inside, I could go into my temporary office tomorrow and have someone pull up the tapes of me doing so. I could even check on when I left.’

Forty-five

The phone had not rung all evening, and Alex was relieved, not because she feared another of those calls but because her time was limited. She had made it home later than she had planned, and she had to shower, change and get herself, as her friend Gina Reed would have put it, glammed up for her big night out.

His call had been the one reasonably bright spot of her day. It had come through on her mobile as she was leaving Paula Viareggio’s office, taking her completely by surprise: Guy Luscomb, her occasional date from her London stint, was in town on business, and would she like to have dinner? Of course she would: so what if Guy was a little self-assured? He was pleasant and she had worked out early in their acquaintance that, as long as she did not take him as seriously as he did, he was okay.

When the entry-phone rang she was ready to go, but she invited him in for a drink, since they would be travelling by taxi that evening.

‘Lexy, darling,’ he greeted her, as she opened the door, ‘you’re looking radiant, even better on your home turf than down in the big smoke.’ His insistence on calling her ‘Lexy’, a nickname that she had discouraged all her life, was his one really annoying habit, but she let it lie because of the compliment.

She stood back and looked him up and down: he wore a yellow Dannimac overcoat, which hung open revealing a suit that might as well have had ‘Armani’ tattooed on its lapels. In that instant he reminded her of Carlos, from the Il Divo quartet; she was certain that the effect was deliberate. ‘You don’t look too shabby yourself, sunshine,’ she said, ‘considering it’s December and pissing down outside.’

‘It’s what black cabs are for, my darling,’ he told her, stepping inside and kissing her quickly on the cheek.

‘That’s a little formal,’ she remarked, and was surprised by the awkwardness of his smile.

‘It’s been a while,’ he pointed out.

‘True,’ Alex conceded. ‘Last May: nice Turkish restaurant, wasn’t it?’

‘Your memory serves you well, and in honour of that occasion I’ve booked something similar tonight, a place called Nargile. I’m told it’s very good.’

‘It is: I’ve been there.’ She led him into the living room. ‘That’ll be nice, but first, make yourself comfortable while I open some cava.’

When she returned with two glasses and a bowl of pretzels on a tray, he had settled into her armchair, rather than on the couch. As she set her burden on the coffee-table, she had the feeling that she was being kept at arm’s length.

‘Well, now,’ she said, as she settled into the comfortable leather sofa, taking care not to crease her dress, ‘now you’ve sprung your surprise, Mr Luscomb, tell me what’s brought it about. Why are you in Edinburgh?’

‘I’ve come with my corporate executioner’s outfit, actually. A data-processing company out on the west side of the city has hit the buffers: you may have read about it in your local business press. Bit of a story: they were New Start of the Year not so long ago, in some pretentious magazine or other; now they’re calling in receivers with a view to liquidation. My firm’s got the job, and as one of the insolvency partners, I’m here to get it under way.’

‘I know who you mean,’ Alex murmured, as she sipped her cava. ‘We acted for them when they set up, then they left us; one of the directors has a cousin in another law firm who said he could do the job cheaper. Now their creditors are paying insolvency fees, and through the nose too, knowing what you lot charge.’

‘That’s business, Lexy my dear. I know I should shake my head and tut at such folly, but where would people like me be without people like them?’

‘Giving positive advice rather than picking up the pieces, perhaps?’

‘Ouch!’

She laughed. ‘It’s all right, this isn’t going to be Pick-on-Guy Night. I know there’s never going to be a world free of bad business decisions. I only wish they weren’t so costly, in human as well as financial terms. The cousin I mentioned has been fired by his firm in the wake of all this. He’s thirty-eight and his career’s on the way to Seafield.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Sorry. That’s an old Edinburgh expression.’