What Will Burn James Oswald (booksvooks txt) 📖

doing and told Lord Bairnfather? Destroyed her latest will, knowing that his firm had the earlier one still on file? Set a bunch of violent thugs on her before she could do anything about it?’

‘Well, that was what I was going to ask him. In a roundabout way. Not going to be able to do that now, but I’d still like to talk to the other partners in his law firm, and I need to see those folders he had on his desk.’

McIntyre rubbed the weariness from her eyes, then looked around the group, taking her time to come to a decision. ‘OK, Tony. You go speak to the lawyers. Janie, I’d like you to go to Fielding’s apartment and fetch back anything you think might be relevant. Folders, computer if he had one. On the face of it, we’re looking for any reason that might explain his death, but if there’s information about Cecily Slater in there, highlight it.’

McLean was already on his feet, and Harrison stood up to follow him. ‘And what about Elmwood?’ he asked.

McIntyre let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her eyes again. ‘Leave her to me.’

DCF Law occupied a floor of the office block directly across the plaza from where Tommy Fielding had died, which must have made commuting to work a breeze. McLean had barely shown his warrant card to the efficient receptionist before he was being whisked through to a conference room where two men were deep in conversation. They stopped as soon as they saw him.

‘Detective Inspector. It’s been a while.’ The nearest of the two men stood up, crossed the room, offered a hand to be shaken. McLean thought it possible he might have met him before, but he couldn’t recall where or when. He had to be either Donaldson or Cartwright.

‘Has it?’ he asked, hedging his bets.

‘Andrew Cartwright,’ the man said. ‘I used to work with Jonas Carstairs. Terrible what happened to him.’

A brief flash of recalled image, from a lifetime ago. An elderly man, friend of McLean’s grandmother, his throat cut and a piece of his own liver shoved in his mouth. McLean shuddered at the memory, surprised at how clear it was. How visceral. For a moment he could still smell the hot iron tang of the blood, hear the lazy buzz of the flies as they feasted.

‘Terrible indeed, Mr Cartwright. And now we have another unexpected death to deal with. Your partner, Mr Fielding.’

‘It’s come as something of a shock.’ The other man, presumably John Donaldson, stood up and came around the table to greet McLean. ‘They told us he died at home, but nobody’s said how it happened. Was it suspicious?’

‘I can’t really confirm anything at the moment,’ McLean said. ‘We’re gathering information right now. As you say, Mr Fielding’s death was unexpected, so we have to look into it.’

‘Well, if there’s anything we can do to help?’ The man who was probably Donaldson indicated a chair at the conference table. ‘Why don’t you have a seat and Dot can bring us some coffee.’

‘I shouldn’t be long. Just a couple of questions for now. It might come to nothing if the post-mortem tells us he had an undiagnosed heart problem or something.’ McLean sat down, waited for the two partners to do the same. ‘When was the last time you saw Mr Fielding?’

‘Yesterday afternoon. We had a partners’ meeting here. Finished about half three, I think. He seemed fine then. His usual belligerent self.’

‘Belligerent?’

‘Did you ever meet him, Inspector?’ Cartwright asked. ‘Tommy was a first-class defence lawyer. Exactly the kind of man you wanted fighting your corner when the odds were stacked against you. But . . . how can I say this without sounding harsh about a dead man? He was very combative at times. Didn’t suffer fools much. We’ve lost a few promising junior lawyers to his temper before.’

‘I’ve met him a few times before. He cross-examined me in court a while back, and I bumped into him at a function at the North British. Most recently, I spoke to him a few days ago. At the Scotston Hotel.’

‘Ah yes. Tommy’s second office. I sometimes wonder why we bother paying the rent on this place. He’s more often there these days.’ Probably Donaldson waved a hand in the general direction of the hotel. ‘At least it’s not far, if we need to send one of the interns to fetch him.’

‘Do you know why he favoured the hotel so much?’ McLean asked.

‘Well, it’s handy for his seminars and conferences, for one thing. And it belongs to the Bairnfathers. Tommy’s been working very closely with them for years now.’ Cartwright frowned as he spoke. ‘I suppose someone will have to inform Lord Reginald. Don’t imagine he’ll be too pleased.’

‘I thought you said Fielding was a defence lawyer,’ McLean said.

‘Oh, he is. Was.’ Cartwright shook his head once as if still not quite accepting the fact. ‘But he met Lord Reginald at one of his fathers’ rights things. I think that’s what he said. They seemed to get on, and the next thing we’ve got all of the Bairnfather Estate’s legal business. Not going to look that gift horse in the mouth, am I?’

‘And that would be why you were acting for Lady Cecily Slater’s estate following her death, I take it.’

Probably Donaldson stiffened. ‘Is that relevant?’

‘I don’t know. But Fielding had her file on his desk at home. You know she was murdered? And the investigation into that is still ongoing?’

‘You don’t think Tommy had anything to do with that, surely?’ Cartwright asked.

‘Was he . . . ? Do you suspect foul play, Inspector?’ Probably Donaldson added. ‘Those women protesting outside the hotel seemed very hostile.’

‘I don’t suspect foul play, no. And certainly not some kind of angry mob baying for blood. It’s not like that at all. I’m simply trying to put together as much information as I can about what Mr Fielding was doing in the time leading up to his death. It’ll go into a report for the Procurator