Starburst (23 page)

Jamie gave Thomas a friendly smile which went unreciprocated. Studying the gormless expression on the assistant’s face, it struck him that Thomas looked anything
but
a fast learner. “Well, best of luck, then, to you both.”

As he watched the two move off towards the front door, Jamie was taken by the almost comical incongruity of this new partnership, the tall lanky figure of the new assistant, with his threadbare hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans worn at half mast, towering menacingly over the diminutive but dapperly dressed figure of the elderly cameraman. And then, for the second time in so many hours, Jamie found himself searching his mind for some glimmer of identification, knowing that there was something vaguely familiar about the boy—especially, for some reason, from the back view.

“Right,” said Gavin Mackintosh, taking a diary and pen from his inside pocket as he pushed purposefully past Jamie into the kitchen. “The rest of the morning is yours, Jamie my lad, so shut the door behind you and let’s be having the whole story.”

An hour later Jamie welcomed the chance to rest his voice as Gavin, with brow furrowed, sat in silence leafing through the copious notes he had written in the back of his diary.

“And that’s about it, is it?” the solicitor asked eventually, glaring seriously at Jamie over his spectacles. “She told you nothing else?”

“Well, it’s not word for word, but near enough.”

When Gavin once more resumed the examination of his notes, Jamie began drumming his fingers on the table. “So what do you think we should do?” he prompted quietly, eager to know what was going through the solicitor’s mind.

Lobbing the diary onto the table, Gavin took off his spectacles and twirled them back and forth in his fingers as he stared thoughtfully out of the window. “A very good question, Jamie. A very good question.” He let out a long sigh. “I don’t think anything can be done until I’ve spoken with Angélique myself and ascertained exactly what course of action she wants to take.”

Jamie pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll go and wake her, then.”

“That would be the best idea,” Gavin replied, “and if you wouldn’t mind, I think I should speak to her alone. There could be some quite complicated legal procedures involved in this whole affair, and consequently it should remain as confidential as possible.”

“Okay,” Jamie replied, quite content in letting Gavin take on responsibility for Angélique. “Do you want me to do anything?”

“Not immediately, but I’d suggest you head off and get yourself showered and dressed, because I could well be in need of your assistance after I’ve spoken to her.”

Five minutes later, Jamie ushered Angélique into the kitchen. Her eyes were drowsy and the oversized dressing gown she was wearing trailed behind her across the flagstoned floor like the train of a wedding dress.

“She’s a bit out of it, I’m afraid,” Jamie said. “The doctor gave her some pretty strong painkillers last night.”

As Jamie settled her on a chair, Gavin smiled kindly at the violinist to put her at her ease, but his eyes were registering deep anger at the sight of the purply-black bruise that spread down one side of her face and the white elastic bandage that was bound around the palm of her left hand. He waited for Jamie to leave the kitchen before he sat down opposite her.

“Angélique, I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Gavin Mackintosh. We met the other night at the reception at the Sheraton Grand.”

“Bien sûr,”
she replied woozily. “You are the lawman.”

“That’s absolutely right.”

Angélique’s attention drifted to her unfamiliar surroundings and she gazed foggily around the kitchen before fixing Gavin with a look of bewilderment. “What are
you
doing here? You do not live in this place as well, do you?”

Gavin laughed. “No, I don’t.”

The drowsiness faded instantly from the violinist’s face and she glared at him, wide-eyed with panic. “Then who told you I was here?” she exclaimed, pushing herself clumsily to her feet. “How did you find out?”

“It’s all right, Angélique,” Gavin said in a slow, calming voice, holding up his hands to steady her anxiety. “You are perfectly safe. Nobody knows you are here, except Jamie and myself.”

Gavin fixed himself with his most reassuring smile as she studied his face to try to detect any sign of deception, and then, very slowly, she sat back down on her chair.

“Let me explain,” Gavin said, leaning forward on the table and interlocking his fingers. “It just happens by chance that I am Jamie’s solicitor. I have been a friend of his father for many years, and consequently have always handled the family’s legal affairs. Now Jamie, quite rightly, was going to call me to ask advice about your…predicament, but it just happened that I had to pay him a visit this morning for a completely different reason.”

The violinist took in a faltering breath. “So now Jamie has told you the whole story,” she said quietly.

“Yes, he has.”

“He is a very kind person.”

Gavin nodded. “You were extremely lucky to bump into him last night.”

“I know that,” Angélique breathed out almost indiscernibly. “I had been to so many places before, but they were all filled with a lot of people and a lot of noise, and I just wanted to be alone. I saw the café was empty when I passed by, so I went in. I did not realize it was about to close. Martha was very kind also, because she kept it open for me and she drove us to the hospital.”

“But Martha wasn’t present when you told your story to Jamie?”

“No, she had gone home, but when she dropped us off at the hospital, Jamie made her promise not to say a word about me to anyone. He was quite…
brusque
with her. I do not think he likes her very much.”

At that moment, Gavin had no interest in Jamie’s likes and dislikes. His greatest concern was for this vulnerable young girl whose world, in the past twelve hours, had been turned upside down and whose trust in her manager, tutor and companion had been decimated. He let out a long, disheartened sigh. “Angélique, I am so sorry this has happened to you.”

Angélique averted her eyes from the solicitor and began fiddling with the cord of the dressing gown.

“How does your hand feel today?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It is quite sore.”

“I’m sure it is.” Gavin stroked a finger thoughtfully across his mouth. “Angélique, I know this is a difficult question to put to you, but I’m afraid that it has to be asked. What action do you wish to take against your manager, Mr. Dessuin?”

She jerked her head up and looked at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know that he has been your tutor and manager for many years, but in my opinion I think his immediate actions would suggest that he could well pose a real threat to you in the future, and accordingly my advice would be that we seek a restraining order against him as soon as possible.”

“How would you do that?”

“You and I would have to go to the court here in Edinburgh to ask for what is called an interim interdict.”

“I would then be in the newspapers?”

“It’s not usual for the press to be at the initial hearing, but of course I can’t guarantee that, especially when the case involves someone who is as much in the public eye as yourself.”

“Then I cannot let it happen.”

Leaning back in his chair, Gavin folded his arms and puffed out his cheeks. “Can I ask you why not, Angélique? My real concern is that he might well try to repeat his actions of last night.”

Angélique shook her head. “You do not understand Albert Dessuin. He is very…how would you say…complex?”

“I’m sure he must be, judging from what he’s done to you.”

“No, what I am meaning is that
I
understand him very well, even though he probably would never believe it. If something bad was to be written about him in the newspapers, I know he would do something very stupid.”

“In what way?”

Angélique paused momentarily. “He would probably try to harm himself.”

“You mean he would attempt suicide?”

Angélique shrugged. “It is very possible. It is in the family, after all, because I found out that his own father had killed himself. And, besides that, there are so many
irrationnalités
in Albert’s head. I know, because I have been subjected to every one of them during the years we have been together. So, even though he treated me so badly last night, I cannot do anything to hurt him. It would always then be my fault.”

Gavin scratched frustratedly at his forehead. “But you must understand I cannot allow you to leave Edinburgh with him. It would then be
my
fault if something were to happen to
you
.”

The violinist shook her head. “I will not be leaving Edinburgh with Albert. It is all finished between us. I decided that even before I left my hotel bedroom.”

“And what will you do? Tour the world by yourself?”

Angélique appeared uncertain. “I suppose I will have to find another manager.”

“But what about Dessuin, Angélique? You are a famous person. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to find out where you are at any time of the day or night. You said yourself he is a complex person, and your leaving him could well spark off considerable paranoia in his mind—and if that were to be the case, you would never be safe from him.”

Angélique looked up at the solicitor with sad eyes. “I know this, but I can never be the reason for him doing harm to himself.”

Gavin leaned back heavily in the chair and folded his arms. “So, what
are
we to do then?” he murmured. “What
are
we to do?”

“I do not know,” Angélique mumbled in reply.

Gavin got up from the table and began to pace the floor. “Okay, I shall reluctantly leave that issue aside for now. What we have to do, as a matter of urgency, is somehow break the news that you won’t be playing tonight, nor probably for the rest of the festival. Because of the present circumstances with Dessuin, we must do it in such a way that nobody need know what really happened, and we certainly should not reveal your whereabouts.” He waved his hands as he thought. “We could just say you’ve cut your hand in an unfortunate accident and you’ve had to return home to France to recover.” He pondered this for a moment. “Actually, that’s not such a bad idea. It might even act as a red herring for Dessuin.”

“A herring? What is that?”

“A false trail. It’ll certainly get him away from the hotel and, at best, out of the country. You do have your passport with you, don’t you?”

“Yes, it is in my handbag.”

“Good. That means he could quite easily take the bait. The only problem is your clothes. Jamie said you left everything in the hotel bedroom.”

“And my violin as well.”

“And the key to your room?”

“I left it there too,” Angélique replied sheepishly.

Gavin shook his head. “Not to worry. We’ll just have to find a way of getting everything out of your room while Dessuin is not about.” He blew out an anxious breath. “My word, the plot thickens by the minute, doesn’t it?” he murmured.

“Gavin, will I really be returning to France?”

“Well, it’s entirely up to you, Angélique, but I would suggest it would be better if, for now, you just stayed here in Edinburgh and kept a very low profile. It’ll give you time to recover, and at the same time it’ll give
me
the chance to monitor Dessuin while you’re still under my watchful eye.”

“But where would I stay?”

“No better place than where you are right now. I don’t think it would be very wise for you to come to my house under the present circumstances. I’m quite seriously bending the rules of my profession with all this subterfuge, so it’s better if I’m seen to be taking more of an impartial stance. Anyway, nobody else is using that bedroom you slept in last night, and I know for a fact Jamie’s going to be around until the end of September. I don’t think you’d find anyone better to look after you.”

“But he might not want me to stay. I could make his life quite difficult with so much secrecy.”

Gavin smiled at her. “I’ll have a word with him. I’m sure he’d be more than delighted.”

“I could pay him, of course.”

Gavin clicked the fingers of both hands simultaneously. “Jumping Jupiter, there’s a problem.” He sat back down on the chair, clenching his fists together on the table. “Angélique, does Dessuin handle your finances?”

The violinist shook her head. “No, everything is managed by the lawyers of Madame Lafitte in Clermont Ferrand. They give me an allowance each month and pay Albert his salary.”

Gavin puffed out a breath of relief. “Well, that’s one thing less to worry about, but we’ll have to notify them in due course.” He pushed himself to his feet once more. “So what about this story we’ve concocted for the press? Would you agree to it?”

“Yes, I think it would be a good idea.”

“Right,” Gavin said, walking over to the window and gazing down at the bustling activity in London Street. “So, all that remains for me to do is to find a journalist with a bit of integrity.” He gave a short, cynical laugh. “Now, that is a tall order.”

Angélique sat in silence for a moment, her brow creased in thought. “I know of a man, a journalist, here in Edinburgh. He has been trying to interview me for many years, but Albert would not allow it. Maybe we could ask for his help?”

“Do you know his name?”

The violinist stared up at the ceiling. “
Qu’est-que c’est? Qu’est-que c’est?
He met us at the airport.” She held up her hand as a name flashed into her mind. “Will, I think is his surname. No, Wills. He is called Harry Wills. He seems to be a nice man, although I know that he does not care much for Albert.”

Gavin nodded. “Good, sounds like the perfect contact.” He bent over the table and wrote down the journalist’s name in his diary. “I don’t know him personally, but I’ve read his articles in
The Sunday Times
. I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting with him straightaway, because it’s imperative that we get this story into the
Evening News
tonight. I’m also going to ask Mr. Wills to liaise with the International office as well. They’ll need to be told as soon as possible so that they can arrange for another soloist for the concert tonight.”