The Complaints

‘Did you recognise him?’ Breck asked.

‘You mean the driver?’ Fox nodded. ‘Gordon Lovatt.’

‘Bit early for a PR meeting, isn’t it?’

Fox agreed that it was. He was standing by the intercom, his finger pressed to the bell for the penthouse. There was a little camera watching him, and he stared into its lens.

‘What do you want?’ a voice asked from the speaker.

‘Just a quick word, Ms Broughton.’

‘What about?’

‘Mr Brogan. There’s some news.’

‘I’m not dressed yet.’

‘I thought you were used to hosting meetings in your nightie.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I could have sworn I just saw Gordon Lovatt’s Porsche…’

As the silence stretched, Fox locked eyes with Jamie Breck. Breck was whistling, but without making any noise.

‘It really can’t wait?’ Joa

‘It really can’t,’ Fox confirmed.

The door buzzed as if in irritation. Fox pushed at it and it opened.

The foyer was deserted. Fox led the way to the triplex’s private lift and pushed the button. It arrived and they got in. Fox pressed the button and the P sign lit up, the doors begi

When they reached Joa

‘Fast work,’ Fox commented.

‘What is it you want to tell me?’ she asked. She sounded in a hurry, but that wasn’t Fox’s problem.

‘You know DS Breck?’ he asked by way of introduction, as Breck busied himself closing the door. Breck waved a hand in greeting, without making eye contact. He was too busy examining the view.

‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Very nice.’

‘Yours for three million,’ she snapped, folding her arms and placing one foot in front of the other, ready for combat.

‘I imagine Mr Brogan would sell, too,’ Fox said, sliding his hands into his pockets. ‘But the market’s against him, and it would still be a drop in the ocean.’ He paused, locking his eyes on Broughton’s. ‘How much is he into them for, Joa

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Bull Wauchope and his syndicate,’ Fox informed her. ‘We’ve been trying to work it out, DS Breck and me. Could be anywhere from ten to a hundred million. CBBJ owns a lot more real estate than either of us realised. A journalist’s been doing some research. Hunting lodges in the Highlands with thousands of acres attached… a couple of islands… land in Dubai… a few dozen flats on spec sites in London and Bristol and Cardiff… All of it bought at the height of the boom, a boom nobody thought was about to be punctured. He was in the middle of setting up a company in Bermuda, wasn’t he? That’s something else the journalist learned. Soon it would all have been offshore and a damned sight more secret. But then everybody got twitchy and wanted their money back. Wanted it in the same cold, hard cash they’d given him to launder in the first place.’

During this speech, Joa

‘You said you had news,’ she said coolly. ‘I’m not hearing any.’

‘What was Gordon Lovatt doing here?’

She glared at him. ‘The police force is leaking like a sieve – mostly to that reporter you mentioned. Gordon is preparing a response.’ She paused. ‘I dare say you’ve been speaking to her, too… dripping poison into her ear…’

‘That’s from Hamlet, isn’t it?’ Breck said, hands behind his back, pretending still to be interested in the panorama.

‘That time I dropped you home,’ Fox started to ask, regaining her attention, ‘when I mentioned Vince Faulkner’s name it didn’t seem to mean anything to you.’

‘Why should it?’

‘Your husband used him on occasions – specifically, occasions when he feared he might be in for a thumping.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘How about the name Terry Vass?’

She was shaking her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

‘I’m guessing it was pretty late in the day before Mr Brogan told you what was going on. I’m also betting you’re furious with him about it. Wouldn’t do for your father to find out what sort of numpty you’ve gone and got hitched to.’ Fox’s voice softened a little. ‘But Charlie needed your help, Joa

Her eyes were growing glassy with tears, but she angled her head skywards so as to trap them there.

‘We need to speak to him,’ Fox went on, measuring out his words. ‘He hasn’t fooled the investigators and I very much doubt he’s had more luck with Bull Wauchope. Criminals the length and breadth of the country will be on the lookout for him. There’s a good chance they’ll get to him before we do – and I think you know what that means. I don’t suppose he had much time for pla

‘Is he even in the country?’ Fox asked her. ‘I’m guessing he is – hard not to leave a trail otherwise. He could even be in one of the flats on the floors below… sneaking up here at night… living like a hermit in the daytime…’

‘I want you to leave.’

‘If you care about him, you’ll talk to him about this. We’re not his friends, Joa

‘Get out,’ she repeated, with fresh venom.

Fox was holding a business card by the tips of his thumb and forefinger. ‘My new number’s on the back,’ he explained, setting it on the arm of the sofa. ‘We figured it out,’ he reminded her. ‘Wauchope will figure it out – and he will come asking, Joa

‘My dad would have something to say about that. He’ll have something to say about you, too!’

Fox shook his head slowly. ‘Jack’s tired – you can see it in his eyes, the way he walks. I know you still respect him, but that’s because you remember him the way he was. Maybe you were even more than a little scared of him. But that’s all changed. Think about it – if Charlie had been scared of him, he’d never have got involved with Wauchope and the others. He’d have run a mile, for fear of offending the infamous Jack Broughton.’ Fox bent at the knees a little, the better to sustain eye contact. ‘Some of the stuff Wauchope owns in Edinburgh… I’m guessing it used to be part of your father’s empire. He’s been letting Wauchope buy into it because he knows the future when he sees it. These days, Jack’s not much more than a minority shareholder. And Wauchope knows weakness when he sees it. Bull wants your husband, Joa