‘I couldn’t sit in that fucking house another second,’ Fiona said.
She was driving her old BMW too fast from Bruntsfield, where she’d picked Jenny up, down to Leith. She was reckless down Cowgate and Canongate, ran a light at Abbeyhill as Jenny grabbed the dashboard.
‘The police don’t have a clue what they’re doing,’ she said. ‘Searching the beaches and woods of Dalmeny Estate, Lauriston Castle. She’s not in the woods or the water, she’s with that cunt, and the sooner we chase him down the sooner I’ll have her back.’
She smelled of stale booze, eyes red, shouldn’t be driving, that was obvious. Jenny could relate to her obsession with Craig. He was an evil spirit in both their lives, and now Sophia was missing, that spirit had manifested. She felt dragged along by Fiona’s urgency. It had only been two days but it must feel like years for Fiona.
They hared down Easter Road, swerved into Commercial Street. They drove past a police car and Jenny half expected its lights to flash and siren to wail. They turned off Commercial Street into Ocean Square. Jenny realised this was where she sat in the van waiting for Liam to come out of work when she first had the job of tailing him. Her heart lurched into her throat. She checked her watch, it was close to his quitting time.
Fiona parked in a permit bay and jumped out, strode to the converted bonded warehouses, Jenny in her wake. She went through a door marked Futura Biosolutions, walked right past the tall redhead receptionist and headed up the stairs.
‘Hey,’ Redhead said.
Jenny flashed a smile and gave her a thumbs-up as she followed Fiona upstairs. These companies were all the same, worker grunts on the ground floor, management next, owner up high.
They reached the top and walked to a heavy door bearing the name Seb Anster. They went straight in, found him with his mobile to his ear. He was in his early thirties, looked rich, wearing a padded jacket like he was an exclusive club DJ, gold chain, wavy hair and designer stubble. Jenny hated him.
‘It’s OK, Kaylee,’ he said, smug smile on his face. ‘I’ll handle it.’
Obviously the receptionist.
‘Where the fuck is he?’ Fiona said.
Seb put his phone down and sat forward. The desk looked ridiculously expensive, Scandi design, ergonomic heavy wood and glass. The office was minimalist, just a cross trainer in the corner which looked brand new. Seb spread his arms wide.
‘Fiona McNamara.’
‘It’s Ellis now.’
‘You look tired.’
‘So would you if your daughter was missing.’
He didn’t flinch. ‘That was careless.’ He turned to Jenny. ‘And who are you?’
‘Where is he?’ Fiona cut in.
Seb nodded. ‘I presume you’re looking for your husband, terrible business.’
Jenny stepped forward. ‘Has he been in contact with you?’
Seb gave her a death glare. ‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Jenny Skelf, private investigator.’
He burst out laughing, performative and loud. Jenny was sure that described his whole life. He stepped out from behind the desk and Jenny couldn’t help thinking that was a mistake. She looked at Fiona, seething with anger.
‘A middle-aged woman PI,’ Seb said. ‘Well, it is the twenty-first century.’
‘You were friends with him,’ Fiona said.
‘Why exactly are you here?’
‘You know why.’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘Just tell me if you know anything.’ Desperation had crept into Fiona’s voice. ‘Or I will fucking hurt you.’
Seb shook his head. ‘Then you’ll get arrested and I’ll sue you.’
Fiona turned to Jenny. ‘This is Sebastian Anstruther-Honeyfield, although he pretends to be called Seb Anster. His family own four estates across Scotland, thousands of acres and umpteen stately homes. He was given this company to play with, and he’s fucked that up.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ Seb said, still smiling. ‘We’re doing rather well, thank you.’
‘Only because Craig and I covered up all your shit.’
She turned to Jenny. ‘Did you hear about the big Futura scandal last year? Dodgy IVF and unlicensed genomics?’
Jenny shook her head.
Fiona jabbed a finger at Seb. ‘That’s because we hid it, gave the press other stuff to worry about.’ She turned to Seb. ‘You fucking owe me.’
Seb shook his head. ‘I owe you precisely fuck all. You’re pathetic. You can’t come here and threaten me.’
‘I’ve got all the files from that time,’ Fiona said, but her voice was wavering.
Seb laughed. ‘You’re ridiculous. I could crush you like that.’
He clicked his fingers, and Fiona launched at him like that was a signal to attack. She grabbed his crotch, her other hand reaching for his throat. He looked surprised and annoyed for the first time since they burst in, and it took a moment for him to compose himself, then he pushed her hand away from his throat and looked down. The hand on the crotch didn’t seem to bother him, maybe he was dickless. He smacked Fiona’s face hard with the back of his hand so that she let go and stumbled. He swung again, knocking her to the floor with a spray of spit from her mouth.
He stood over her, his smile back in place.
Fiona touched her mouth, ran a tongue inside her cheek. ‘That’s assault.’
Seb shook his head. ‘Self-defence. Now leave or I will have you destroyed.’
Jenny wanted to jump on his back, push him out of the large window, but she went over to Fiona and helped her up. Fiona spat blood onto the expensive wooden floor.
‘You piece of shit,’ she said, shaking her head.
Seb was back at his desk picking up his phone. ‘Takes one to know one.’
‘If I find out you’re involved, you’re dead, understand?’
‘Fuck off.’ This was thrown away, he didn’t even look up.
Jenny helped Fiona out of the door. It felt like they were cowed beasts as they went downstairs and past reception. Kaylee the redhead gave Jenny a sarcastic thumbs-up. Bitch.
They got to Fiona’s car. People were leaving work for the day at the government building across the way. Fiona looked lost.
‘Interesting tactic,’ Jenny said.
Fiona burst into big ugly sobs. Jenny hugged her, felt her fragile and trembling bag of bones.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t having a go. I understand.’
‘I’m losing my fucking mind,’ Fiona said between gulps.
‘That’s totally reasonable, Jesus. I would be all over the place in your situation.’
‘We have to find her,’ Fiona said, pulling away. ‘We have to.’
Jenny nodded. ‘OK, how?’
Fiona shook her head. ‘There were other clients, but these three were the ones Craig was closest to. I mean, we worked for dozens of people, we can’t go to them all.’
‘So what about these three?’ Jenny said. ‘Is there something we’re missing?’
‘You saw Karl in North Berwick, said he seemed legit.’
Jenny pictured Karl’s gran shouting at her. ‘I think so, but maybe I was wrong.’
Fiona threw a thumb towards the office. ‘That arsehole’s family owns half of Scotland. They have chalets and lodges all over the country. If he’s helping Craig hide Sophia I’ve no idea how we’d ever find them.’
Jenny remembered something. ‘Did you get Charlotte Cross’s list of rentals?’
Fiona nodded. ‘Haven’t had time to check them out.’
‘Maybe that’s next?’
Fiona rubbed her jaw and looked back at the Futura building. Eventually she nodded and checked her watch. ‘I’d better get home. I have a police liaison coming to talk about a television appeal. I don’t think I can face that.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Jenny said. ‘You’re strong.’
‘I’m not, but thanks.’ She went to get in the car but Jenny didn’t move. ‘You coming?’
Jenny looked at the civil servants pouring from the government buildings. She’d been keeping an eye on those passing, just in case.
‘I have something I need to do here.’
Fiona frowned at her. ‘OK, but we should check out the Cross rentals.’
‘Send me the list.’
Fiona came in for a hug. ‘Thank you.’
Then she was in the car and away.
Jenny stood like a rock in the stream of people heading home. She remembered the first time she followed Liam to his studio, seeing his paintings, chatting to him in a bar, looking in those eyes.
And then there he was in front of her, as if she’d summoned him. He spotted her from a long way off. She tried to read the look on his face.
He slowed as he reached her. He was wearing a new suit, darker than his old one, made his green eyes pop more. He had the start of grey hair at his temples.
Well,’ he said, hands out. ‘Jenny Skelf.’
She copied his body language. ‘Liam Hook.’
He stopped a couple of feet away. She wanted to be closer, wanted to throw her arms around him. She smiled, hoping he would smile back but he didn’t. Understandable, the last time she’d seen him in the flesh he was in a hospital bed, eye bandaged, broken ribs.
She spotted scar tissue on his brow now. ‘How’s the eye?’
‘Works fine.’
‘And the rest of you?’
‘Good as new.’
Silence between them. Goddamn, she’d missed him.
‘What brings you to this neck of the woods?’ he said.
She glanced up at the Futura office. ‘Just assaulting a privileged wanker.’
He smiled. ‘Sounds about right.’
‘How are you?’ she said. She wanted him to say he’d missed her, he was pining, he wanted her back. But she didn’t forgive herself, so how could she expect him to forgive her?
‘You know,’ he said. ‘Still taking the government shilling, still painting badly.’
‘Your paintings are wonderful.’
‘If only other people shared your vision.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jenny said. ‘For how things ended. I was an arsehole.’
Liam shook his head, touched the scar on his eye. ‘I understand. It took a while, but I got it.’
‘No,’ Jenny said. ‘Don’t let me off the hook.’
Liam nodded and stuck his lips out. ‘OK, you’re an arsehole.’
She laughed and he joined in. It felt good to have that between them. It had been a year but they still had a connection.
‘Well…’ he said, readying to go.
‘Listen, would you like to go for a drink?’ She looked over her shoulder. ‘The King’s Wark, for old times’ sake?’
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Shit timing. She pulled it out, a message:
I hear you’ve been asking around. Leave me alone or you’ll regret it. Cx
‘Holy fuck,’ she said.
It was like she’d conjured him from hell, just by meeting Liam. She looked up at Futura, he wouldn’t be that stupid. Unless it was a double bluff. But it meant she and Fiona were on the right track, he knew who they were talking to. She had to tell Fiona and Thomas straight away.
‘What is it?’ Liam said.
She looked at him, sweet face, ordinary life.
‘I’m so sorry but I have to go.’