Blood Lines Part 32

'Have some more coffee, Roddie.' Jack refilled his cup and helped it to his mouth, encouraging him to swallow.

'Let's talk some more about Tymar,' Jack persisted.

A thought floated across my mind, one that I tried to dismiss but it lingered. Jack had used this technique before.

'What do you want to know?'

'Roddie, I want to know everything.' I couldn't see the smile on his face but I could hear it in his voice. 'Let's get started, Roddie. Who first asked you to start Tymar?'

Jack's pen was busy scratching. He knew he was on his way back to the big-time and he wouldn't rely on a tape recorder to get all of this down.

Roddie thought for a moment, then went on.

'Robert Girvan yes, it was Robert who asked me. The request was rather surprising because he was a partner in another firm; he was McCoy's partner before he was busted. I asked him why he didn't do it inhouse, and he said he wanted to keep his business life separate from the law firm. He was paying me well, so I wasn't going to object.'

Lavender flashed me a look that said, 'I told you so.' If it had been possible, she would have danced in front of me singing it. Eddie squeezed my arm.

'We all make mistakes,' he mouthed. I think I loved Eddie at that moment.

Roddie helped himself to more coffee.

'So, what did Robert Girvan want Tymar for?'

'Well, at first, Jack, I had no idea. I thought it might be a property company or something, then he made an unusual request. One that I was quite happy to comply with since it involved me getting paid a lot of money.'

He wiped his brow with a pristine monogrammed handkerchief.

'I was under pressure, Jack; you have no idea what it's like working with that woman. She is quite simply infuriating. Brodie MacGregor is irritatingly good at what she does, earns a lot of fees, but that puts the rest of us under pressure. Then when I had my little contretemps with Kailash and the firm started haemorrhaging money as a result of the scandal, Brodie made no secret of the fact that it was my fault.'

'Wasn't it?'

Jack asked all the questions I wanted to put to Roddie.

'No,' Roddie whined. 'I've told you. I just wanted to reunite father and child what could be wrong with that?'

'The father was a paedophile some people may say that was wrong.'

'Jack, Jack ... her father was a very important man; such men are always the subject of rumour and conjecture. In any event, she was long past the age when her father would have been interested in her if he did indeed have those proclivities.'

'So you didn't like Brodie?'

'Haven't I just said that? She came in here a n.o.body. I gave her a start and how did she repay me? She made me look a fool in front of my partners by bringing in double the amount of fee income that I did. I was forced to work harder just to maintain my position, at a time when I should have been winding down. That's when I thought I could go to Kailash if she had paid me enough money I could have retired and everything would have been all right. But that's not her way; she has to destroy a man. Did you see what she did to me? It was a set-up but it looked bad. Do you know what the worst of it was?'

Jack shook his head; but we all did, nodding like those dogs in the back of a car.

'The worst of it was that I had to ask Brodie for help.'

Jack poured himself some water.

'Let's get back to happier things then. Tymar is your revenge on Brodie, isn't it?'

Roddie replied, 'Robert Girvan's special request was that he needed to buy a woman's ident.i.ty as a cover for the bank account and company. I sold him Brodie's; he didn't object. In fact, when he had to work under the little b.i.t.c.h, I think it kept him going when she was giving him patronising handouts.'

'So, Brodie's financial details are on all the registration doc.u.ments of the company?'

'That's right! All her details except the important ones. Like a scan of her iris or her palm print, so that means she can't actually access any money.'

'What does Robert Girvan use Tymar Productions for?' asked Jack.

'I don't know, but it's highly illegal, because lots of cash flows through the accounts. Tymar Productions is supposedly a film production company. Not a bad idea if you want to launder money. I was always rather amused by the name myself,' he said, starting to giggle like a schoolchild.

'Tymar Productions?' Jack repeated, and shook his head.

'Oh, and here was me thinking you were meant to be clever! Don't you see it? TYMAR? Take your money and run.' Roddie Buchanan continued to giggle at the hilarity of it all.

Jack gave him enough coffee to send him to sleep and I was left with the prospect of seeing Robert Girvan as myself.

He had taken my ident.i.ty.

He had stolen me from me.

He was a man pretending to be a woman when it suited him, in this mess of confused men and women.

Suddenly, a thought swam into my head as if my dreams had come back in one piece.

The voice behind the camera.

How sure was I that it truly was a woman? Was that why I hadn't been able to place it?

Was Robert Girvan behind everything?

Chapter Forty-Four.

'It worked then?' the Alchemist asked.

'Like a charm,' I replied, meeting him at court straight after Roddie's performance. He nodded as if he had known that it would.

He had changed.

Not metaphorically, but literally. His hair had been dyed back to his natural colour and he wore a suit. Not a cheap suit like the ones my punters normally borrowed it looked expensive and, from the way it hung on his scrawny frame, I would say that it was handmade. His white shirt was not new, that would have been too nouveau riche, but it was spotless and freshly ironed. Of course, he wore his school tie. It was not the same school tie that Tanya and Moira had worn in the video it was even posher. I was surprised; Moses had not done Bernard's background justice.

Bernard's public-school acolytes were not at his side. They had been replaced by his mother. It was obvious that Bernard had been a late baby. Mrs Carpenter came from the same generation as Mary McLennan and, from the look of her, I would say she was just as strict.

On stout flat brown shoes she marched towards me. Thankfully, I was in my suit and the court gown hid any lingering stains that might have remained from breakfast.

'Miss McLennan I have to tell you that I was not happy that Bernard instructed someone other than our family solicitor.' She told me his name. I didn't recognise it but a.s.sured her that he was a fine fellow. She beamed, her choice of lawyers having been vindicated. Because I had agreed with her, she softened.

'Bernard tells me that you have a fine pedigree in the law and that your father was the Lord President; I'm so sorry for your loss, dear.'

'My grandad who is still alive was the Lord Justice Clerk,' I told her. Bernard smiled at me, relieved that I knew how to placate the likes of Jemima Carpenter. I didn't come across such posh, concerned mothers often in my line of work, but I like to think that if Mary McLennan were still alive, then I would know how to walk my own path but still keep her happy. I wouldn't betray my working-cla.s.s background, but I'd be able to blend into any environment.

'Bernard a.s.sures me that he is completely innocent,' said Ma Alchemist, 'and that the police planted evidence on him. Whilst I find it almost impossible to believe that the police would stoop to such matters, I cannot believe that my Bernard was guilty of entering someone's home and stealing their jewels.'

The Alchemist blushed.

'Bernard has been wayward lately; you see, he has been trying to find himself ever since he left university.'

Mrs Carpenter was old enough to think that hippy-speak was still in vogue. I didn't want to say that Bernard had been wayward for so long he'd had enough time to find himself ten times over. She patted her hair, which had clearly been washed and set yesterday. She was nervous. The diamonds on her left hand almost blinded me and I understood where Bernard had developed his taste in jewellery. He coughed in embarra.s.sment.

'Don't worry, Mrs Carpenter. There must have been a stray police officer behind the matter. I have found a witness who has confirmed to my secretary that he found the jewels in a hedge, or rather his dog did.'

'Did you say dog? Oh, now I have every faith that things will turn out all right. I have found that dogs are generally more reliable than people.'

She pulled a picture out of her wallet and showed me her Pekinese, Bernie. After making suitable gushing noises, Mrs Carpenter put Bernie's picture away. I had a flash of understanding as to why Bernard had gone wrong. He was named after a dog. I was told that the Bernie in the picture was Bernie IX; I just knew that the boy Bernard did not warrant Roman numerals after his name.

'I need to speak to Bernard alone, Mrs Carpenter.'

She uttered the immortal cry of deluded mothers everywhere. 'We have no secrets!'

I hoped for her sake that they did, and ushered him along the corridor out of earshot.

'The witness's name is Mr Wilson,' I told him. 'I don't know if he's here. I cited him as a defence witness so if he doesn't show up I can ask for an adjournment but that may just be postponing the inevitable. Although he has confirmed your story about DI Bancho, he's not keen to speak.'

'Sorry if I've misled you, Brodie,' he answered sheepishly.

My heart sank. If I had a pound for every time I've had those words uttered to me on the morning of a trial I'd be a millionaire.

'Please explain exactly what you mean by misleading me.'

My voice was icy; I could have frozen milk at fifty paces. I thought I saw Bernard quake; at the very least his outsized Adam's apple bobbed about nervously.

'I don't think I specifically said it was DI Bancho sure, he was interviewing me, but there were other coppers around. You just seemed so keen to blame him that I sort of went along with you, just to please you, like.' He smiled apologetically.

'Run that past me again, Bernard.'

I never stopped smiling as I looked into his nervous eyes.

'It's like I said. Sorry.'

I wanted to smack his face and call him a liar. Joe had warned me that this one would sell me for a bag of smack; come to think of it, he'd also told me that Bancho wasn't bent. I wouldn't listen then but I was listening now.

'Continue.'

My icy tone dropped several degrees.

'I was lifted by a woman officer she knew the score. I never saw her again. I think by the time I saw Bancho, the gear had been put in my property.'

He shrugged his shoulders before adding, 'By the woman, I suppose.'

'And you tell me this now because ...?'

'Because I don't want to get into any more trouble than I'm in. Brodie, I'm out of my depth here. You've met my mother; you can see that I'm not cut out for this life. When Moses cut out Bruce's eyes in front of me ...' His voice quavered with unshed tears.

'If I just plead guilty, then this can all be forgotten. They won't send me to jail, I'll get probation. I promise I will never do anything wrong again.'

This vow is made to me each time I start a trial. This time I believed the pledge. Strangely, I also thought he was making a mistake. I was all for him walking the straight and narrow, but he would be attaching himself to Mrs Carpenter's ap.r.o.n strings to play second fiddle to the current Bernie, the resident Pekinese.

'At first, I thought you were throwing me a line, Bernard.'

'Well, why did you take my case to trial?'

'That's too long a story to go into here, but you don't deserve to have this on your record the evidence was planted on you irrespective of who did it.'

'I stole the stuff I was just unlucky they found it.'

'Bernard the law is a system of checks and balances. My job is to make sure that everything evens out. If you plead guilty then some crooked b.a.s.t.a.r.d will go on to do it again to someone else.'

'I don't care about anyone else.'

Rarely has a truer word been spoken.

'Bernard shut your mouth and do as I say.'

I walked away from Bernard, leaving him to the devices of Mrs Carpenter. She would never allow her second most beloved Bernie to plead guilty.

Chapter Forty-Five.

Duncan Bancho and Peggy Malone stood outside the court enjoying a last cigarette.

Bancho looked like a condemned man. The mere presence of police had cleared the usually crowded court entrance and I walked right up to them. We needed to discuss Bridget Nicholson and Robert Girvan.

Now.

I could see that Duncan had not been sleeping, which was hardly any wonder. If I was right, he would be facing five years in Saughton Prison. If Bernard was telling the truth, he'd still be belted for allowing such things to go on whilst it was his watch. But I couldn't afford to feel sorry for him now. Generously, Peggy Malone offered me a cigarette.

'No thanks, Peggy. Could I have a word with Duncan on our own? We have a bit of a history and there's some private stuff I need to say.'