Blood Lines Part 9

'Well, even if I had, I can tell you they wouldn't be queuing up. The bright side is that you can stay in the office today and get things organised.'

The desk jumped as she laid the court files down on it. On top of the pile was a photocopy of the day's work. She had even marked the name of the lawyer against the court case.

'Lavender, you make me feel redundant.'

'Is that your way of saying thank you?'

'I see Eddie's instructed ...'

Lavender was easily distracted where Eddie was concerned. A slow, satisfied smile stole across her face as I turned round to see why.

Eddie Gibb had broken all records. This was the earliest I had ever seen him in the office and surely the only time he had been the first one into the court meeting.

He even looked clean.

Lavender got up and straightened his tie, an unnecessarily intimate action.

'Eddie was the one to phone me and tell me the rumour on Monday night. Which, I might add, I didn't believe because I was sure that if any such calamity had occurred you would have phoned me,' she said pointedly.

'Yeah, well ...'

'It was running riot round the bars. I was in the Tilted Wig when Bridget Nicholson came in. She had that sly look on her face and she couldn't wait to tell me and everyone else who could hear her and that was everyone in the bar. She was so loud. Really loud. I didn't know she could be so ...'

'Loud. Yes, I've got the picture, thanks very much, Eddie.' I stopped him mid-flow as Robert Girvan and Laura McGuigan traipsed in.

'I'm surprised to see you here,' said Girvan.

'I pay you large sums of money every month, Robert. Lavender makes out the cheques and I sign. You could at least give me the courtesy of silence if you can't manage support.'

'You've got it all wrong, Brodie, because you're too d.a.m.n touchy as usual. All I meant was, of course I knew that Duncan Bancho would release you. It's just that it must have been a h.e.l.lish experience and I would have expected you to take more than one day off.'

Lavender thrust a cup of coffee into his hand and answered for me.

'For your information, Robert, Brodie will never let the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds grind her down.'

She sounded a lot more certain than I felt. I handed out the files in a daze, distributing the work evenly between them. They were great courtroom brawlers, they needed no pointers from me. Usually I made a pretence at directing them just to let them know who was boss. But they were mavericks and I knew that they would go their own way once they stepped inside the arena.

'Robert?' Lavender's voice cut across the room. 'Are you free next Wednesday to do that jury trial in Wishaw?'

'No, sorry, Lav. All next week I'm in a complicated fraud case in Linlithgow for Bridget Nicholson.'

Two days ago, Robert Girvan would not have taken work from Bridget Nicholson because he knew that he more or less worked permanently for me. It indicated to me that he was covering all bases. He expected me to go down, if not for this, then for something.

'Rat,' Lavender hissed after him, as they all began to file out with their cases.

A strange silence fell upon me after they had left. It had been at least three years since I had still been in the office at nine o'clock. Even on holiday I couldn't relax between the hours of 9.30 a.m. and 11 a.m. because I was conditioned to act like a headless chicken running from court to court.

'You can't go in there,' I heard Lavender shout from the reception area outside my office. It wasn't like her to raise her voice, and it was enough to make me move. I jumped over my desk in case she was in trouble. Clients with drink and drug problems aren't ever easy.

'I've got a warrant.'

'Show it to me now, before you take another step.'

I recognised Duncan Bancho's voice. He must have timed this to make sure he didn't have me to deal with. I was gratified to realise that he now knew Lavender was no pushover. He'd have had an easier time with me.

I opened the door. Lavender was barring his way with one hand, whilst slowly reading the warrant she was holding in the other. As soon as Bancho saw me, he shouted: 'Serious Crime Squad, we've a warrant here to uplift your client files.'

That wasn't for my benefit. He was shouting loudly so that the commercial-department clients would hear. In the s.p.a.ce of about five seconds, over his shoulder, I saw one portly businessman go up to the receptionist and walk out. It was a sight Bancho didn't miss; his eyes narrowed as he sneered at me and pushed his way into my office.

'Tell your minions to get me the list of files on this warrant. You can stall if you want but we both know this warrant is kosher.'

I nodded to Lavender to co-operate. Top of his list was Tymar Productions. Good luck to him if he could find it because I sure as h.e.l.l had no idea where it was, although the name 'Tymar Productions' was starting to ring a bell. Lots of bells. Alarm bells. It had just dawned on me that it was the name of the company my senior partner, Roddie Buchanan, had been setting up in Switzerland the weekend my father was murdered.

I stared out of my office window. It still sounded strange to say my office. I had demanded it from Roddie after Kailash's trial last year. I knew he had cursed me and probably still cursed me every day, but even he must have thought it would have taken me longer to fall this far.

'Brodie!' Lavender shouted through to me from her adjoining office. 'It's the Evening News on the phone they're running a story on Alex Cattanach and they're going to mention you. Do you want to speak to them?'

'Christ, no. Tell them "no comment".'

I could hear Lavender getting rid of them before she nervously crept into my room.

'If they were going to run the story anyway, why did they want you to comment?' she asked.

'If I spoke to them, they could pretend to me they were doing a balanced piece and then they would st.i.tch me up with my consent,' I answered.

'I'm sure I shouldn't show you this.' Lavender's hands were behind her back, concealing something from me.

'How much worse could things get?'

I knew that was a stupid thing to say, but it got me what I wanted and she threw a cheap lilac envelope down onto my desk.

'It doesn't look much.'

The envelope was unopened. I really would have to praise Lav for controlling her nosiness. The writing on the outside of the envelope was semi-literate and flowery, like an eight-year-old girl's. I opened it quickly no letter-bomber would act like this, I was sure.

Hiya Brodie!

I told you if you got me into rehab then I would help you!

Woman of my word!

Only kidding, I would of helped you any way cos you and me go back a long way and I know you've always been there for me.

About that t.o.s.s.e.r the Alcemist?

I remember now. I had been lifted by the Leith police and I was pretty p.i.s.sed off cos it was 1 of my busiest nights of the year better than Xmas. I was raging. It was in May at the start of the Church of Scotland Asembly and thats always a busy time. Those ministers are randy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds thats why I remember. I look forward to it all year cos its such easy pickings. But some gadge accused me of stealing his walet, after we'd, you know ... you'd think he would have been embarased but the sneak wee b.a.s.t.a.r.d called the cops.

I get taken in to St Leonards as per usual. And thats where I saw him. Bernard? What a stupid name that is, no surprise that he calls hisself by a nickname. Anyhow he was screeming at the top of his voice get my lawyer get me Brodie McLennan get me Brodie.

Then I heard DI Bancho sayin you were c.r.a.p and that he would be better off with a real lawyer like Nicholson. Bridget Nicholson.

Too be fair Bernard just ignored him and he started shouting that he didn't need a lawyer cos they had nothing on him. I heard him emptying his pockets and shouting he had to be relesed cos they had nothing on him. Nothing at all.

They put him in the cell next to me. I spoke to him cos I bort gear from him before and he was so scared he was wetting his knickers.

The thing is he told me that he had done the job BUT he'd thrown the jewelery over a hedge before the cops nabbed him. When they lifted him he was clean.

I know that that's the same story I always give you but I beleved him for 1 reason. When DI Bancho had taken him into a room I heard a phone call to the desk sergeant. It was from a man phoneing the cops to hand in a necklace and bracelet that he had found in a garden.

Now I put 1 and 1 together and how come that jewelery has suddenly ended up as evidence?

If you can answer that Brodie then I think in spite of the rehab you owe me one.

Your Friend Tanya (Hayder) 'What's the smackhead saying now?'

Lavender was itching to know as she looked over my shoulder.

'She says I owe her a favour.'

'Again? Do you?'

'We'd better hope so.'

And with that, I began to pray as best as a non-believer sc.u.mbag lawyer could.

Chapter Thirteen.

'Two pounds fifty to terrify yourself? You have lost the b.l.o.o.d.y plot, Brodie. There are plenty would do it for free for you.'

Lavender handed over five pounds to the attendant, but she wasn't finished with me yet.

'I don't mind you frightening yourself but I've got more than enough going on without having to actually witness you having a freaky fit.'

'It's aversion therapy. If I force myself to confront my fear of heights then I will feel very brave. I need someone to come with me and you're cheaper than a psychiatrist.' I didn't say that I also needed something to take my mind off Tanya's letter before I decided what to do about it.

The Carrara marble statue of Sir Walter Scott and his beloved dog Maida looked as if they were mocking me. I didn't blame them. This wasn't exactly a life or death situation, but I still wondered how I could summon the courage to climb the 287 steps of the two-hundred-foot monument.

'I've paid the money so you are climbing to the top.' Lavender stood to the side to allow a group of enthusiastic j.a.panese tourists to pa.s.s. She grabbed me roughly by the arm and marshalled me into the stairway.

'Don't even start about your claustrophobia. What I don't understand is how you can drive that bike at breakneck speed and yet be frightened of a little thing like this.'

By step fifty-five I was already sweating, from fear as well as exertion. Lavender was behind me, poking and prodding me up those steps. At seventy-five I stopped and faced her.

'Why do I get the feeling you are enjoying this?'

'Because I am now turn around and get moving, look out at the scenery. There's no lesson to be learned unless you face your fear.'

I felt myself being pulled to the edge magnetically. Down below, office workers enjoyed an alfresco snack in Princes Street gardens. Little did they know they were in real danger of experiencing my own mid-morning nibbles, as nausea started to overwhelm me. I pulled at the neck of my blouse, trying to cool myself down.

'Get moving.' Lavender nudged me. I rushed to the first floor and the museum, faking interest in the superb stained gla.s.s windows.

'What does that mean?'

I followed Lavender's pointing finger.

'What am I a tour guide?'

'No. You are, or at the very least were, a nerd, and I bet you know exactly what that means.'

She was right. 'This is the third window and it shows the coat of arms of Scotland the Lion Rampant.'

'But what does the motto mean? Nemo me impune lacessit?'

'No one provokes me with impunity.'

'Sounds like a good mantra to take into your appointment with Lord MacGregor, Brodie.'

Her words spurred me on to a charge up the steps. If I couldn't face looking over a perfectly safe two-hundred-foot precipice, what chance did I have looking into Grandad's face and explaining myself? I shouted historical details at Lavender as I raced upwards. It kept me distracted.

'The Scott Monument was built after his death because the people of Scotland wanted to commemorate him. No public funding was used in the original build.'

'Don't worry, Brodie, if you kick the bucket I'll put a fiver in for your memorial.'

We stared out over the Waverley Valley. It was nothing to Lavender but I felt triumphant. I waved at the people down below and ventured to put my arm around her shoulder.

'Keep your fiver if I'm out on my a.r.s.e, Roddie will make sure that you're not far behind. Race you down.' I pushed my way down the stairwell, in two minds about the direction I was going, for every step took me closer to my meeting with Grandad.

Lavender walked me to Awesome, parked at the bike s.p.a.ces near the Waverley train station. She'd refused to ride with me from the office, preferring to walk, but she had a soft spot for the Fat Boy, knowing how much that bike meant to me. Gingerly she pointed her shoe at a small drip of oil.

'You need to get that leak fixed do you want me to phone Joe and get him to arrange it?'

'I'll speak to him myself.'

Lavender's eyes lit up.

'Oh, I thought that you were avoiding him.'

'You think too much for your own good sometimes, Lav.'

I yanked my bike helmet on she knew that now I couldn't hear her and threw my leg over Awesome. I jumped down on the kick-start and the engine roared into life.

I sped off down Waverley Bridge, narrowly avoiding dozy packs of tourists who were more interested in wolfing down their McDonald's than taking care of their lives. I turned left at the roundabout down past the Edinburgh Dungeons, where the queue was ma.s.sive. The ragged skeleton in the cage seemed to wave at me as I drove past. I was taking the long way round to my destination I could have walked from the office or from the monument, but I needed an excuse to get on the bike.