Justice for George

‘Right.’ Maggie cast an eye over the files stacked on the table. ‘Now we’ve got Christmas and New Year out of the way, let’s see where we’re at.’

‘Fair, fat and forty,’ Wilma joshed, thrusting out her boobs. ‘Time I was back at the gym for starters. The pounds have been fair piling back on.’ She grabbed a handful of flesh from the waistband of her jeans. ‘All them feckin mince pies.’

‘I know,’ Maggie agreed. ‘Not to mention the booze. It’s high time we sobered up.’ She threw a stern look in Wilma’s direction. ‘Got back to concentrating on the job in hand.’

‘Don’t give me that look.’

‘What look?’

‘The I’m-Head-Girl-and-you’re-only primary-one look.’

Maggie drew herself up. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Force of habit,’ Wilma muttered.

‘What did you say?’

Innocent face. ‘How are the financials?’

‘Ticking over. Apart from a couple of late payers, the bread and butter stuff is doing away. And,’ she brightened, ‘the Innes Crombie account has given us a bit of wiggle room. If business slows down, that should see us through January and February.’

‘Things okay on the domestic front?’ Wilma asked guilelessly. She knew how proud Maggie was, grabbed the chance to slip the question in.

Maggie seemed not to notice. ‘The mortgage is less of a worry since I made the arrangement. I’ve managed to keep up the payments. Not that it isn’t a struggle, what with Colin’s school fees and Kirsty’s uni accommodation, and that’s before the household expenses. But,’ she made a face, ‘I manage.’

‘At least your kids don’t give you any grief.’

‘No.’ Colin’s last school report showed a marked improvement in his grades and a near-perfect attendance record. Kirsty, too, was keeping her head down. There had been no more dramas, no repeat of the cutting episode. ‘But, back to business.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘To kick off, looks like we can firmly close the door on the Seaton business.’

Wilma sniffed. ‘Was that no meaty enough for you, then? A murder in a graveyard, a bunch of schoolkids at the back of it? And that’s before the drugs and thon alkie childminder.’

Maggie had the grace to blush.

‘Bugger all we got out of it too. All the hours you spent checking out them kids.’

‘It was useful surveillance practice.’

‘Fair dos. But what about your face-off in that flat with thon maniac, Fatboy? You could have got yourself killed, Maggie.’

She shrugged. ‘Don’t exaggerate.’

‘At the very least got your face disfigured.’

Maggie grimaced. ‘To go with my skelly eye, you mean?’

‘It’s not skelly, just a bit on the lazy side. And you ken fine folk only notice when you’re stressed.’

‘That’s pretty much all the time these days,’ Maggie joked.

‘Regardless, we got nothing out the end of it. No money, and that Weegie bastard took all the credit.’

‘If you’re referring to Inspector Chisolm…’

‘Och.’ Sly grin. ‘You’re his number one fan now, are you?’

‘Not at all. But you’ve got to give the man credit. It was Chisolm took the case forward.’

‘It was you did all the work.’

‘Not all, exactly.’

‘Near as.’

‘No matter. For the time being we need to keep a low profile.’

‘How? I thought we were meant to be promoting the agency.’

‘We are. Only that whole saga resulted in adverse publicity.’ Maggie was still smarting from her ordeal in the witness box when Fatboy came to trial for dealing drugs. ‘We don’t want to attract any further attention.’

‘Like what, for instance?’

‘Well, it wouldn’t look good if the details came out. Having my,’ Maggie cleared her throat, ‘unorthodox methodology splashed all over the papers. I mean, running surveillance on a bunch of wee boys, and me charged with their care. Detaining them in my car without parental authority. Gaining entry by subterfuge to that flat in Esplanade Court. I could lose my Seaton job for less.’

‘Well, it’s not as if you did anything illegal.’ Arch look. ‘You didn’t, did you?’

‘Not like you, is that what you mean?’

Wilma responded with a mischievous grin.

‘Wil-ma…’ Exasperated voice. ‘I can’t stress enough that private investigation isn’t a game. If anyone gets wind of your escapades, we can wave goodbye to our licence.’

‘Come off it, Maggie. The SIA have their work cut out policing them heavies call themselves doormen to be bothered about two wee wifies like us.’

‘That’s as may be, but we’ve served our apprenticeship now. It’s time for the agency to begin a new chapter. A strictly professional one.’

Oops! Wilma turned her head away. She’d been going to fess up to the GPS tracker she’d recently ordered online. It might prove useful to them both, after all. Now, she thought better of it. Turned back. ‘There you go again,’ she chided, ‘on your high horse. You’ve a face on you like a slapped arse. Thought you were going to lighten up.’

‘And I thought you were going to stop treating the investigation business like a…a…TV game show.’

‘Ooh,’ Wilma rolled her eyes. ‘Get you! Did you have a particular one in mind?’

‘Yes. No.’ She was so tired tears swam in front of Maggie’s eyes. ‘Forget I said that. Only our results are based on hard slog: hours spent sitting at a computer, fact-checking, taking down witness statements, you name it. A bit like police work. And that demands a rigorous approach. I know you’re doing your best, Wilma, but I worry that one of these days those shortcuts of yours will sink the ship. And that would be a tragedy, don’t you see? For you. For me. But more importantly, for George.’

‘I get that.’ Stricken face. ‘Only…’

‘You’re doing great,’ Maggie moved to reassure her friend. ‘We’re doing great. Overall, we’re more incisive in tackling our caseload, quicker to tie things up.’

‘And get the invoices out,’ Wilma came in like a flash.

‘That too.’ Wry smile. ‘We’ve demonstrated we’re learning our craft. The agency’s grown from a struggling start-up to a sound enterprise. And it has every chance of continued growth. But, Wilma,’ Maggie extended a hand. ‘In our efforts to grow the business we mustn’t lose sight of the bigger picture. We’re doing all this for a reason.’ Her face clouded. ‘A very serious reason. A man has been gravely wronged. And none of this will have been worthwhile if we don’t achieve our primary goal. And that’s justice.’ Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes. ‘Justice for George.’