She listened for a moment or two and then nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll tell him.’ She hung up without waiting for a reply and served me a cool look.
‘That was Alison,’ she said.
I had gathered that much.
‘She’s down at Paddington Green nick.’
‘And…?’
‘And she’s there representing one of your clients.’
‘Good for her, but I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t wait until morning.’
‘Sean Chester has just been murdered.’
I put my fork down, the uneaten beetroot still speared on its tines. Sean Chester had been one of our clients. The ex-producer on one of the biggest continuing dramas as they called them nowadays.
‘What happened?’
‘He was shot dead two hours ago, Dan. And they’ve arrested your favourite star Melinda Hamilton for it.’
Another one of our clients. ‘They booked her?’
‘No. She’s not been charged yet, but your hotshot lawyer girlfriend reckons it’s a matter of hours, not days.’
I sighed, finished my beer and reached for my jacket.
‘Well, are you coming or not?’ I said.
‘I’m off the job,’ Kirsty replied.
‘Not any more,’ I said, standing up and giving her the full Dan Carter wattage.
‘Welcome to Private.’
