‘Those reasons aren’t obvious to me,’ Alex observed.

  ‘She was a player’s wife, simple as that. A football manager has to stand at a distance from all his players. He can’t be seen to be playing favourites or he’ll alienate the rest of the team. The wives are a group too, not all of them, but enough for problems to arise. Annie wasn’t one of them, she was an outsider, so if they’d found out, the tongues would have wagged all the way to the tabloids.’

  ‘What about your wife?’

  He shook his head. ‘Lita didn’t know either. Mostly we were fine, but we had been having one or two issues. The French thing got to her, but she reckoned that Chaplin would back down eventually, as the legal advice was in our favour. The thought of me moving to Scotland bothered her more than that. When Rogozin stepped in and offered me Merrytown, she’d only go along with it if she was part of the deal, so she could keep an eye on me. When Annie and I started meeting, I wasn’t sure how she’d react, so I kept it to myself.’

  ‘How did it begin, your friendship with Annette? And when?’

  Baker pushed his chair away from the table and stood, walking across to lean against the work surface, his back to the kitchen window.

  ‘We all came to Scotland at the beginning of January,’ he began, ‘during the transfer window, Paco and Annie, me and Lita. The other guys, Artie, Jimmy Pike, Orlando, they came a couple of weeks later, brought in by me, with Cisco’s help.’

  Alex frowned. ‘Were they all his clients?’

  ‘Hell no, I’m not so daft I’d let him palm guys off on me, but he helped with the negotiations.’

  ‘And your own staff?’

  ‘Tank Bridges, my assistant, and I come as a package. Lita was an add-on, because I wanted a doctor I could trust. Alice McDade joined in March.’

  ‘What’s she?’

  ‘Physio and fitness coach: she knows eff all about football, but she was an Olympic marathon runner and she’s got a degree in sports science.’

  ‘Did Annette move with Paco from the start?’

  Baker nodded. ‘Yeah. The club put them up in a hotel at first, for longer than we’d anticipated, right through to the end of the February. I told Angela Renwick it wasn’t ideal and she came up with the penthouse for the Fonters, and the flat below for some of the other lads. Well, to be exact, it was one of the directors that came up with them, Mr McCullough, the guy that owns this place.’

  Alex’s curiosity was pricked, but she reined it in, leaving her client to continue his tale.

  ‘They were still in the hotel when Annie called me,’ he said. ‘Must have been the middle of February. We’d met once before, when Paco signed and we did a photo call, but that was all. She asked if she could see me, in private, to talk through some things. Private suited me, because in truth I was a bit leery about it. Last thing you want as a manager is to get involved in the squad’s domestics, but with Paco being the star man, and he and I being connected through our agent, I said okay.’

  He pulled himself up on to the work surface and sat there, kicking his heels gently against the drawers below. ‘We met in the café at Chatelherault Country Park, an old pile just outside Hamilton. Figured it was as discreet as we were going to get. As I’d guessed, Annie was having trouble settling down, she’d that fucking . . . excuse my French . . . Sirena in her ear, and living in the hotel wasn’t helping. She told me that the location was making travel difficult for her, with a work schedule that could take her anywhere in the world, sometimes at short notice. I promised her I’d sort it as soon as I could, and that was fine, but the longer we were there the more obvious it was that really, the lass just wanted to talk. There she was, her a supermodel, internationally famous, and she was lonely.

  ‘And then,’ he smiled, ‘I dunno, I just sensed a connection between us. You know when you meet someone for the first time and you know how it’s going to be between you?’ He paused. ‘Or maybe you don’t, I’m sorry.’

  Alex grinned back at him. ‘Let’s say that I do.’

  ‘Right, okay, well . . . that’s how it was with Annie. But not in a sexual way,’ he added, quickly. ‘I just realised that she was special and that I liked her very, very much. More than that, I reckoned that she felt the same way about me. Dunno why, to this day, but I did. When we were done, she told me that talking to me had made her feel better than at any time since she’d come to Scotland. I said we could do it again, any time she liked, and we did. From then on we tried to meet for lunch at least once a month, always somewhere we’d never be seen.’

  ‘Did she confide in you again? Did she say anything that might give a clue to the secret she mentioned in her text?’

  ‘Not that I ever . . .’

  He broke off as a loud chime sounded. ‘Bugger! Who the hell?’ His expression darkened. ‘Please, not the bloody media,’ he sighed.

  ‘I doubt that,’ Alex said. ‘They wouldn’t have got past the gatehouse. But I’ll go, just in case.’ She rose quickly and walked through the hall to the front door. It had a large central panel of opaque glass; the shadow of a figure was cast upon it by the midday sun. She opened it, and felt her eyes widen involuntarily.

  A woman stood on the step. She was of medium height, slim with close-cut brown hair through which a few silver threads were sewn. Her eyes were brown also, with a few lines in their corners, but fewer than would have been expected of someone in her forties. She was casually dressed, in a T-shirt and white cotton trousers. Spooky , Alex thought. The first time they had met she had been clad in exactly the same way.

  ‘Mia,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Alex,’ Mia Watson McCullough replied. ‘I’d be surprised to see you here if I didn’t know from Cameron that you’re acting for our guest. I’m assuming that he’s in. I thought I’d call in to make sure they were settled.’

  ‘And to size him up?’ she murmured.

  The other woman smiled. ‘That too, I admit. I’ve met some dangerous men in my time; I’d like to see how he compares.’

  ‘Most of them were in your own family,’ she said, drily, ‘from what I’ve been told.’

  She chuckled, softly, a throaty sound that took Alex back twenty years, to her adolescence. ‘True. Most were, but one of them’s yours. He’s not with you, is he?’

  ‘My dad? No. Why should he be?’

  ‘Protection? Your client is accused of killing a woman, isn’t he?’ She beamed. ‘Well, can I come in?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘Of course, sorry.’ She stepped aside to allow the visitor to enter.

  Chaz Baker stood in the kitchen doorway. ‘Mrs McCullough,’ he said, as she approached.

  ‘You know me?’ she exclaimed; her surprise sounded genuine.

  ‘I’ve seen you at Merrytown; on the other side of a very crowded boardroom, after a game. Your husband’s a director of the club, after all.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she agreed, ‘officially confirmed as a fit and proper person by the powers that be.’

  ‘That’s more than I am at the moment,’ Baker grunted. ‘Your husband’s Russian associate told me not to come within a mile of the training base or the ground. He suspended me from all activity and forbade me to contact anyone in the club.’

  Mia stared at him. ‘Did he now? Cameron wasn’t consulted about that.’ She hesitated. ‘All the same, if he had been, he’d probably have agreed with the decision. He was accused of murder once, you know,’ she added.

  ‘I didn’t, but obviously he got off.’

  ‘Now, now, Mr Baker,’ she chided, ‘he didn’t “get off”. He was acquitted, because he was innocent . . . as you are, I take it. Yes?’

  ‘Yes,’ he declared. ‘Whatever the police believe, I am. We’re going to prove it too.’

  ‘Good for you; at least Alex got you bail. More than she could do for her half-brother, but we’ll let that pass. Okay,’ she said briskly, ‘I’ll let you get on with your planning. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable here.’

  ‘Very, thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome for as long as you need. I’ll be off then.’ She turned on her heel and headed for the door, Alex following.

  ‘He didn’t do it,’ she whispered, as she opened it. ‘He’s a softie. Wouldn’t have lasted five minutes where I grew up. Tell your dad I want to see him, by the way. He’s making assumptions about Ignacio and his future; I need to make sure they’re in line with mine.’

  ‘What the hell was that about?’ Baker said, as soon as Alex stepped back into the kitchen. ‘Your half-brother? Bail?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ she replied. ‘The respectable Mrs McCullough was born into one of Edinburgh’s most notorious criminal families of the late twentieth century. She moved upmarket but never quite shook it off. When I was a kid, she was a presenter on an Edinburgh radio station and I was part of her devoted teenage audience. She met up with my father during his investigation into her brother’s death, and he brought her home to meet me, thinking I’d be impressed.’

  ‘And were you?’

  Alex nodded. ‘Yes, I admit it, I was. Mia had charisma, no question; there’s still plenty of it in her. She still works in radio, on her husband’s station; the man owns most of Dundee. My father was impressed by her too. My mum had been dead for almost ten years by then, and he and Mia had a very brief fling. Then she left, vanished, disappeared. She resurfaced last year, and Dad discovered that he had a son he’d never known about. He found out too late to help him out of some very bad trouble.’

  ‘Is he inside?’

  ‘For another couple of months, yes, he is.’

  ‘Mr McCullough: what about him?’ Baker asked. ‘It’s not so much that I’ve heard whispers, but when we played Dundee last season, and his name was mentioned, more than one person gave me a knowing look.’

  ‘Like Mia said, he was accused of murder but the case against him collapsed. He’s never been convicted of anything and he has a substantial portfolio of entirely legitimate businesses.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But nothing,’ she said sharply. ‘Forget about Cameron McCullough. It’s you who has the problem, and if you’re going to have the same outcome he did, we have to work at it. Before Mia called in I was asking you about Annette’s secret.’

  ‘That’s right, and I still can’t think what it might have been.’

  ‘What do you know about her, her background, her early life?’

  ‘Not a hell of a lot, but I do know that she’s never been in a Paris nightclub in her life, far less been in the chorus line. All that stuff about her being discovered by Sirena in the Crazy Horse, that was bullshit, pure PR fiction that the tabloids and the glossies just ate up.

  ‘The truth is that she was spotted when she worked in a café in London; she was seventeen at the time. Sirena had a panic on; she was a low-end operator then, and she’d been let down by a girl she’d booked for a photo shoot for a home shopping catalogue that morning. She saw Annette when she brought her a coffee and asked if she fancied making a few quid. It all started there. She went along to the job, the catalogue editor loved her; instead of using her on the kitchen products she’d been hired to display, he put her into the fashion section, straightaway.’

  ‘Did she tell you any more about her early years?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Not much; her mum was Sri Lankan, she told me that much, but I think she was adopted. She mentioned being brought up in Worthing, and she said that her dad was a vicar, but when I asked how he met her mother, she just shrugged and looked away. There was a door between us at that point and I let it stay closed.’ Baker glanced at his lawyer. ‘Annie had a lot of secrets,’ he said, ‘but I doubt we’ll uncover any of them now.’

  ‘We’re going to have to,’ she retorted. ‘Your whole life might depend on it.’

  Twenty-Five

  ‘How is our Chaz?’ Cameron McCullough asked his wife. ‘Is he optimistic or is he just going through the motions of putting up a defence?’

  She considered the question for a few seconds. ‘They’re doing more than that,’ she replied, ‘but as you’d expect, he’s petrified beneath it all; there’s no disguising that. Alex is going to have to work hard to keep him on an even keel, especially now that he’s barred from any contact with the football club and its staff.’

  ‘By the court? Was that a bail condition?’

  ‘No, that was all Rogozin’s doing.’

  He frowned. ‘It was? Dimitri never told me about that.’

  ‘Does he have to?’

  McCullough’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’s the chairman, and in theory, sure, he has the executive power to sack or suspend the manager. In practice, I brought Rogotron into the deal, and in the corporate ownership of the club I’m the real majority shareholder. He seems to have forgotten that.’

  ‘Are you going to remind him?’

  ‘No,’ he grunted, ‘I’m going to give him a little more rope.’

  ‘If he had asked you, Cameron, would you have disagreed with him? The press are going crazy over this; they’re crawling all over Edinburgh trying to get background on Annette Bordeaux and her relationship with Baker. Surely you’d want to keep him as far away from the club as possible till it all calms down.’

  ‘We could keep him away from the club but still have his input,’ he countered. ‘He’s been charged, for Christ’s sake. The media aren’t allowed to badger him. Yes, yes, yes, I know we have to keep him and Paco Fonter apart, but Paco’s on compassionate leave, plus, Angela Renwick tells me he’s got a hamstring tear that’ll keep him out of action until Baker’s trial comes up. The way it is, Merrytown FC is denied the services of its two costliest assets, and yet they’re still on our payroll.’

  He sighed. ‘All that said, Mia, the chances are we’ll lose him permanently in a couple of months.’

  ‘He and Alex Skinner don’t agree with you.’

  ‘Are you sure about Alex? Did you get her on her own and ask her what she thinks?’

  ‘I didn’t have to. It’s obvious.’

  ‘I should be happy to hear that,’ he said, ‘but what I get from the other camp is that the police case is rock solid.’

  ‘Where did you get that from? Your granddaughter, through her boyfriend?’

  ‘Hell no, I wouldn’t put her on the spot by asking her. I have other contacts, in the legal fraternity . . . although that should be sorority these days, the number of women in practice. There’s a girl called Benedict in the prosecution team. Her father’s one of our members. I saw him this morning in the changing room. I was going to the gym and he was getting ready for a round of golf. He reckons that Chaz Baker will make his daughter’s name.’

  ‘I can think of another father who might tell you the same about his.’

  ‘Can you really? Bob Skinner’s a realist; his judgement will be based purely on the evidence.’

  Mia’s laugh rang out like the chime of a bell. ‘Oh my dear, you really don’t know him at all, do you?’

  Twenty-Six

  ‘How is Alex?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘She’s okay,’ Skinner assured her, his phone pressed to his ear. ‘One hundred per cent focused on the man Baker.’

  ‘And will you help her with the preparation?’

  ‘Of course I will. And I’ll try to keep her feet on the ground while I’m at it. Her certainty about his innocence is infectious, but I’ve just read through the police report to the fiscal, and it’s pretty bleak. The way I see it the only defence she’s going to be able to offer will be along the lines of “A bad boy did it and ran away”, and I’ve never known a jury to buy that one.’

  ‘Reasonable doubt?’ she ventured.

  ‘I don’t see any. You’re the pathologist on the case. Is there any doubt about how she died?’

  ‘None at all: she was battered then manually strangled.’

  ‘Or doubt about the time of death?’

  ‘No, that’s accurate to within a couple of hours.’

  ‘And during that time Chaz Baker was on the premises. Reversing down shit creek without a paddle might not be impossible, but that’s where Baker is right now.’

  Looking out from his office, Bob frowned. ‘My worry isn’t just for the effect of a loss on her; it’s for the impact of this very big case on the rest of her practice. She talks of taking on an associate, but it hasn’t happened yet. She has other clients, my kinsman Johnny Fleming for one. He’s going to be a guilty plea for sure, and while a custodial sentence is unlikely, it isn’t impossible. She’ll have to put in a good plea in mitigation to make certain that doesn’t happen.’

  ‘Could you speak in court on his behalf?’

  ‘And say what?’ he exclaimed. ‘That he’s my distant cousin, but not much else. I hardly know the man, and the sheriff would want to know the strength of our connection.’

  He stood, and stepped across the room to the glass wall, looking north across the city skyline. ‘It’s not just Johnny, it’s all of them; the woman accused of stealing from the Co-op, the seventeen-year-old lad who got drunk on Buckfast and smashed a window that could cost him the career in the RAF that he had his heart set on, the fellow solicitor who’s under investigation for misusing his firm’s client account. They all deserve as much commitment as she’s giving to Baker, and I don’t see how she can deliver, not on her own.’

  ‘Then it’s too bad you never did a law degree as your father wanted.’

  ‘He hoped,’ Skinner corrected her. ‘What Dad wanted was what was best for me; he hoped it would be the law, that’s all. He’d have been very proud of his granddaughter, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Do you know anyone who could help her?’

  ‘I could make a couple of phone calls and put somebody in the empty office next to hers, but would that person be any good? The best thing I could do for her would be to find the thread that would unravel the Crown case against Baker, but I don’t see it anywhere in the report I’ve just read.’

  ‘Bring it home with you and we’ll look at it together,’ Sarah offered.