Jenny glanced at Fiona in the hearse passenger seat. She would rather have brought the less conspicuous van but Archie needed it to pick up a body from Murrayfield care home. But the hearse had advantages, she could park it anywhere and never got a ticket.
‘So Charlotte Cross is the CEO of Win Energy,’ Fiona said.
They were driving from Cramond, over the Dean Bridge into the heart of the city. Traffic was light as Jenny manoeuvred the hearse over the cobbles. Just as well she didn’t have a coffin in the back.
‘And you think she might know something about Craig.’
Fiona shrugged. ‘Craig handled her account. They worked very closely on a couple of things.’
Jenny frowned. ‘You mean he fucked her.’
The idea obviously wasn’t new to Fiona. ‘Looking back, maybe. There was a lot of crisis management and response stuff, damage limitation.’
‘What did Win Energy do?’
‘Usual energy company shit,’ Fiona said. ‘They make noises about renewables but it’s the same old with oil and gas. They have a hand in Mossmorran, so it’s never ending.’
‘Shit.’
Mossmorran was a gas-processing plant over the Forth that was always breaking emission regulations. On a bad day the flames from their excess gas flaring made Fife look like Mordor.
They turned right and crossed over George Street, Edinburgh Castle appearing like a postcard at the end of Castle Street. It was stupidly picturesque but meant something different to folk who worked in the city every day, a tourist site, a way to bring in money. Jenny parked in a Loading Only spot. Who’s to say they weren’t loading a corpse? They sat with the engine off. Fiona stared at the castle, tourists crossing on Princes Street.
‘This is some place to have an office,’ Jenny said, looking at the designer clothes shops and restaurants either side. ‘The rates must be killer.’
‘Yep.’ Fiona seemed in a dream.
‘You OK?’
‘I used to spend all my time in swanky offices and restaurants. Now I’m buying own brand in Aldi.’
‘Nothing wrong with Aldi.’
Fiona gave her a death stare. ‘It’s hard to be poor.’
Jenny laughed. ‘Get a grip. You’ve got a roof over your head, happy daughter, reason to get out of bed in the morning. It’s easy to feel sorry for yourself, but we’re here for something, let’s go ruffle some feathers.’
They got out and locked the hearse. Two middle-aged men in suits stared at them, two women climbing out of a hearse.
Jenny pasted on a smile. ‘It’ll be your turn soon, pricks.’
Jenny imagined Craig’s face on every man in Castle Street. She thought about all the Airbnb in the city, no locals anymore, just short-term tourist rentals. Maybe Craig was sitting in one of those apartments right now, with a new name, feet up, glass of Sancerre in hand, condensation beading the outside of the glass as he laughed at how he’d got away with it.
‘This way,’ Fiona said, heading down Rose Street.
Jenny waved across the road. ‘I thought the office was there?’
Fiona held up her phone. ‘I’m still synched to her iPhone calendar. It’s lunchtime.’
Jenny caught up outside Wildfire and Fiona turned. ‘She’s a steak and red wine girl.’
Unusual for a high-powered businesswoman, wasn’t it all kale salad and macrobiotics? Fiona went in and Jenny followed. They walked through to the back as if they were meant to be there. A glamorous thirty-something woman in an expensive peach suit, black hair cascading down her shoulders, was laughing at something her lunch partner said. He was young, square jaw, vintage-film-star looks. Jenny couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
‘Charlotte,’ Fiona said, already standing over them.
Charlotte Cross stopped with her glass of red wine near her lips. The mood at the table turned sour and the man shrank into his shell.
Charlotte glanced at Fiona. ‘I’m surprised you’d show your face around here. With your murderous husband and everything.’
Her voice was cultured Scottish, maybe a hint of Glasgow schemes underneath, she’d reinvented herself. But we all did that given half a chance. She sipped her wine, appreciative nod at the glass, then lowered it. ‘How the fuck did you know I was here?’
Fiona shuffled on the spot.
‘Holy shit, you’ve got my diary,’ Charlotte said. ‘How unprofessional.’
‘Don’t talk about unprofessional,’ Fiona said. ‘You were in breach of contract with us when you split.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘I’d love to see you take that to court.’
Jenny admired Charlotte, she seemed the kind of woman who would have the upper hand in any conversation.
‘We’re trying to find him,’ Fiona said.
‘Good luck,’ Charlotte said, glancing across the table at her companion. ‘He escaped from prison, you know.’
The man nodded. Of course he knew, it was the biggest story in the country a year ago.
‘McNamara,’ Charlotte said to him. ‘And this is his wife Fiona.’
‘Ex-wife,’ Fiona said. ‘And it’s Ellis now.’
Charlotte nodded. ‘Starting again at, what, fifty? Good luck.’
This woman was a piece of work. She knew Fiona wasn’t that age, just trying to get a bite.
‘I was wondering if you knew where he was,’ Fiona said.
‘Why would I know anything?’
‘You fucked him,’ Fiona said, looking for a bite herself. Charlotte flinched and glanced at the man.
‘We worked together, that’s all.’
‘You were close,’ Fiona said. ‘We got an unexpected bonus on the back of that Mossmorran thing.’
‘I have to say, Craig earned every penny.’
‘Do you know something?’ Fiona said, ignoring the bullshit.
‘Of course not,’ Charlotte said, ‘now leave us to our steaks or I’ll have the staff eject you.’
‘You have properties across Edinburgh,’ Fiona said. ‘Maybe you could give us a list of addresses?’
Charlotte leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘You’re out of your tiny mind if you think I’m going to do anything for the wife of a murderer.’
Fiona leaned in too and Jenny wondered if she was going to slap her. Fiona spoke through her teeth. ‘If you know anything about that wanker, you’d better tell me now.’
This was a side of Fiona that Jenny hadn’t seen. This whole shit had lit a fire under her.
‘Or what?’ Charlotte sneered.
Fiona smiled. ‘Before you illegally terminated our PR contract, I took the precaution of copying all the files on Win Energy. All of them. I know where the bodies are buried and if you don’t tell me what you know I’m going to the police, then the FCA and HMRC.’
Charlotte swallowed and sat back. Her sneer disappeared and her shoulders dropped. She composed herself, took a swig of wine. The glass rattled on the table as she put it down.
‘You can have a list of rental properties,’ she said. ‘But I’m telling you, woman to woman, I don’t know where Craig is.’
Fiona held Charlotte’s gaze for what seemed an eternity. Charlotte didn’t flinch. Eventually Fiona pushed her shoulders back with a flick of her hair.
‘OK, but you’d better not be lying or I will fuck you and your company back to the stone age.’
She turned and walked away.
Jenny smiled at the couple and waved. ‘Enjoy the rest of your lunch.’