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Authors: Quintin Jardine

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BOOK: For The Death Of Me
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I had to laugh. ‘Harvey, all due respect, but I can't think of anyone less qualified for that task. Tell Ellie not to worry, the job's done.'
He looked at me gratefully. ‘Thanks, Oz. I should have known, for that lad worships the ground you walk on.'
It's true that there's a special bond between Jonny and me, but I try to discourage worship. After all, I'm a bit of a false god, as you know. ‘Don't underrate your own influence on him, Harvey. He asked me what I think of the law as a profession.'
‘I know. We've discussed it: he told me that you approve of the idea.'
I shrugged and grinned at him. ‘I don't like to lie to my nephew, but in the circumstances . . .' Harvey's face fell. ‘Joke!' I called out. I like him, but I'll never take him to a stand-up comedy club.
‘Good,' he said, rising to his feet, ‘because I've spoken to a couple of friends of mine at Edinburgh University, and to the director of training at the Faculty of Advocates. They've all agreed to give him a preview of what it will involve.'
‘Fine, but just remember, he is only sixteen, so don't be too disappointed if he turns round next year and says he wants to be a zoologist, or a golf pro or something equally bizarre.'
‘Or an actor?'
‘That's an ambition I will definitely not encourage. My business is full of crazy people.'
Harvey chuckled as he led me into the dining room. ‘So's mine: usually we call them clients.' I began to rethink the idea of a night at the stand-up club.
The lunch wasn't nouvelle cuisine, but that was okay with me: I was brought up on Scotch broth and haddock fried in breadcrumbs, the more chips the better. It wasn't until the cheeseboard had arrived that my brother-in-law-proved my dad right by getting down to the real business of the day.
‘I've got something on my mind, Oz,' he said, ‘and I'd like your advice.'
‘Plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the judge.'
He smiled weakly, as befitted a pretty weak wisecrack. ‘I might need a mirror to do that soon,' he replied. ‘What I'm going to tell you has to remain confidential, until an announcement is made.' He glanced around. ‘Half the members of this place might know about it, but they're within the institution, as it were, and it's important that it doesn't leak outside. The fact is, I'm going to be elevated to the Bench: a vacancy's arisen, I've been proposed and the Judicial Appointments Board has nodded its head. My installation will take place within the next three weeks.'
‘Supreme Court?' I asked.
‘Of course. If they'd offered me a Sheriff's position I'd have turned it down flat.'
‘Well, congratulations. I knew you were headed there some day, but I thought you were still too young.'
He shook his head. ‘In the old days I would have been, but things have changed. The new system isn't afraid to trust a forty-three-year-old to produce sensible judgments.'
‘Quite bloody right too,' I told him. ‘I have to say that I'm more than a little chuffed that you chose to confide in me, but what the hell do you need my advice for? Is Ellie giving you grief about it?'
‘Not at all. I wouldn't have gone for it without her full support. No, it's my first wife who's the problem.'
I frowned: I know more than most about troublesome ex-wives. ‘Why should that be?' I asked. ‘She's been off the pitch for over ten years now, hasn't she?'
He pursed his lips. ‘Pitches, as you put it, mean nothing to Madeleine. I haven't seen her in over five years . . . and then it was by accident . . . but I'm quite certain she still takes an interest in my career.'
‘What makes you certain?'
‘When our decree was granted, she promised me that she would. She didn't take the civilised option when it came to ending the marriage. I had to sue for divorce on the ground of adultery: her counsel rather foolishly tried to nail me for a ridiculous sum as aliment. I had the Dean of Faculty in my corner. The judge listened to him, as he would, and she was awarded one pound a year. My costs were awarded against her too, but I didn't pursue her for those.'
‘Bloody generous of you.'
‘That's exactly what the Dean said: in the circumstances, he had to waive his fee as a courtesy to a fellow silk, even though I was still a fairly junior QC in those days.'
‘Remind me never to sue a lawyer.'
‘The odds would be against you, I concede. Maddy should have known that too, but you couldn't tell her anything. She was livid with the judgment: she talked about appealing it, but her solicitor point-blank refused to help her. Finally she went off, clutching her pound, throwing me many a withering glance, and promising to take a special interest in my career.'
‘Has she remarried?'
‘No, and she still calls herself Madeleine January.'
‘When did you last hear from her?'
‘When Ellen and I were married: Maddy sent her a sympathy card.'
‘Jesus!' I spluttered, then glanced around to make sure there were no clergymen in the room this time. ‘How did my sister react to that?'
‘She set a new world record for tearing a greetings card into small pieces. It looked like confetti when she was finished. She was all for posting it back to her with a note saying that she'd do the same to her next time, but I headed her off that. She couldn't have anyway: I don't know where Maddy is.'
‘Is that part of the problem?' I asked him.
‘Very perceptive, Oz: I fear I may be about to come under attack, but I don't know from which direction.'
‘But, Harvey, how could she possibly attack you? You're a pillar of the community, one of the most respected figures in your profession, and you don't have an enemy in the world . . . apart from her, it seems. She, on the other hand, ran off with a bloody actor, not even a movie star like me, but a bit player.'
He raised an eyebrow. ‘How did you know he was an actor,' he asked, ‘far less have his credits list in your head?'
I'd put my size ten in it, hadn't I? There was nothing to do but own up. ‘When you started going out with Ellie,' I confessed, ‘I had you checked out by an ex-copper friend of mine, a guy called Ricky Ross.'
He beamed. ‘Ex-Superintendent Ross,' he exclaimed. ‘I've had him in the witness box many a time. He's very good: I'm not surprised your information's accurate.'
‘Sorry, mate,' I muttered lamely.
‘Don't be. I'd have done the same to you in the circumstances.'
‘That's good to know, but let's go back to the original question. How could this Madeleine woman possibly attack someone like you?'
‘Well . . .' he began. As wells go, this one was pretty deep. ‘There are a couple of photographs, which would embarrass me, and everyone associated with me, if their very existence was ever known. If they were ever published . . .' He shuddered. ‘God forbid that they ever should be.'
‘But Maddy's capable?'
‘Yes, I fear so.'
‘And she has them?'
‘I fear that also. Let me fill you in on the background. Madeleine Raymond . . . her maiden name . . . and I met when I was at Oxford, doing my BA. We shared a couple of classes. When I came back to Edinburgh to do my law degree, she followed me up here. Looking back, she probably reckoned that I was some sort of a catch. I fell for her, no doubt about it, and we were married as soon as I'd graduated and obtained my practising certificate. Big mistake on my part: I should have stalled her, maybe suggested living together for a while. But I didn't and pretty much as soon as the knot was tied, I began to regret it. Maddy liked to party: so did I, to an extent, but I was career-minded and determined to get to the Bar as soon as I could. There was also the question of money. My family's well fixed, as Ricky Ross will have told you, but I wasn't prepared to let my folks pick up the tab any more than was necessary. So, like all young advocates, I went through a period where my income was pretty limited. She didn't like that at all.'
‘Didn't she work?'
‘She temped on occasion, to make ends meet, when she had to, but she hated it, and she let me know.'
‘How long did the marriage last?'
‘Seven years, though God knows how.'
‘How did it come to an end?'
‘I found out about her fling with the actor chap, Rory Roseberry. I learned later that he wasn't the first. I was in the Crown Office at the time and she'd been playing numerous games while I was away prosecuting on the High Court circuit. Finally a brother advocate tipped me off. I decided to take action so I hired a private investigator.' He grinned. ‘Believe it or not, I actually considered approaching you, but I was told that you didn't do divorce work.'
‘Looking back,' I told him, ‘I wish I had. The stuff I did was usually balls-achingly boring.'
‘I don't believe that you mean that. You're not the window-peeping type, Oz. I employed those chaps because I had to, but I detested them and what they did, not least because they seemed to enjoy it. They were good, though. They produced all the evidence I needed very quickly.'
‘How did you handle it?'
‘Brutally, I have to admit. I threw her out: we were living in my father's Edinburgh flat at the time, since he'd retired to Florida by then. I changed the locks, and rented a small place for her.'
‘And the photographs?'
He sighed. ‘Yes, the photographs. Remember I said I wasn't a regular party animal? Well, there was one time. We'd had some people in for dinner one Saturday night, at a period when things were okay, and we'd all had rather a lot to drink. The morning after I must still have been pissed, because when I got up . . .' He paused. ‘You know my old man was a judge too, don't you?'
I nodded. ‘The first Lord January.'
‘That's right. Well, thing is, he shouldn't have done so, but he'd a set of Supreme Court robes in the wardrobe at home, and a wig. So I got up, then, in a mad whim, put the robes on as a dressing-gown, stuck the wig on my head, and lurched off for a pee. When I came back to the bedroom, Maddy yelled at me to stop, framed in the doorway, and fired off a couple of snaps. I laughed about it, I bloody laughed, but the thing was I was bollocknaked underneath. Worse than that, I had an . . .'
‘Enough said. I take it that you're entirely recognisable in the photos.'
‘Oh, yes. Photography was Madeleine's principal hobby, apart from actors. She was rather good at it, I'm afraid.'
My devious mind was working fast, considering all the options. ‘Leave her aside for a moment,' I told him. ‘What about the possibility that when the film was developed, a technician might have ripped off a couple of extra prints, and that they'll show up in the News of the World the weekend before your installation?'
‘That's highly unlikely. We went on holiday to Mauritius the following week. The film was finished off and developed out there. No, my fear is that Maddy still has the bloody things; in fact, I'm certain she has. You see when I chucked her out, I gathered all her possessions together and boxed them. That included her photographic collection, and rather obviously, the first thing I did was look for those two prints. I found them, all right, and reduced them to ashes, but when I looked through the negatives, I discovered that the vital strip was missing.'
‘Maybe she burned it herself.'
He shot me a look that made me fear for all the poor buggers who'd soon be appearing before him in the dock. ‘No chance,' he murmured grimly.
‘Has she ever threatened you with them, specifically? Surely, if your divorce was hostile, she'd have been tempted to use them then?'
‘That would have been foolish, and foolish she certainly is not. Showing me up in the media wouldn't have affected the outcome, and any attempt at blackmail would have landed her in the clink. At that time I'd have reported her to the police and taken out a fearsome interdict prohibiting publication in any form.'
‘Can't you do that now?'
‘I could, but I'd have to establish a likelihood of publication, and I'd have to know who to interdict. Then there's the Internet: it's impossible to prevent something appearing on a rogue website. Besides, if I took preemptive action, the very fact would stir up the hornets.'
‘Look, are you sure you're not exaggerating this?'
‘I'm sure. When Ellen and I were married, that card wasn't the only thing she sent. I received an e-mail. No message, just two photographic attachments.'
‘I see.' We were the only people left in the dining room. I looked at him. ‘You said you wanted my advice, Harvey.'
He seemed lost, more vulnerable than I could ever have imagined. ‘What should I do, Oz?' he whispered. ‘I'm kicking myself for allowing my name to go forward with this problem unresolved. I'm kicking myself for not getting hold of those negatives, one way or another, and destroying them. I'm kicking myself for letting the bloody situation arise in the first place.'
‘Enough with the kicking, for Christ's sake,' I protested, ‘otherwise you'll have me putting the boot into you too. What are your options?'
‘The way I see it, I don't have any. I must withdraw. I can't embarrass the Bench, but most of all I can't embarrass Ellen, the boys, you, Mac. I can't shame the family.'
I felt heart-sorry for him. I had grown to be very fond of my brother-in-law; it hurt me to see him so distraught, and when I get hurt, often I get angry. At that moment, Madeleine January moved right to the top of my get-even list.
BOOK: For The Death Of Me
8.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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