As fast as he could, yet feeling as if he was running on soft sand rather than tarmac, he turned back and raced towards Mark. He stretched out his right hand and scooped the boy up, throwing him up and over the roadside fence and the bush which was twined through it, into the field beyond. Then, in the same movement, with the roar of the car sounding ever louder in his ears he threw himself, and his burden, after him.
He was in mid-air when he felt the blow on his left leg, harder than a Mcllhenney tackle; it spun him round in his flight, sending him even further through the air, even further into the sanctuary of the field.
He lay there for a second, aware of Mark crying beside him. He tried to stand, to catch a glimpse of the vehicle's number plate as it roared away, but his leg was numb, and gave way under him. And then he realised that the carrier on his back was empty. He looked around and saw Jazz, yards away, lying on his back in a ploughed rut, motionless, looking up at the sky.
Desperately, he crawled and scrambled across the field towards him, over the newly turned land, until he reached him. Ignoring the growing pain in his leg, he pushed himself to his knees.
There was a light smile on the little boy's lips as he gazed upwards. Bob's mouth twisted into the start of a scream…
Until James Andrew looked at him and chortled. 'That was good, Dad. Can we do it again?'
53
Janine Bryant had insisted that Pringle meet her at the Daybelge offices in Melville Street. He assumed that she did not want a policeman, even one out of uniform, calling at her home on a Sunday, but when he arrived for their appointment, he found that the place was a hive of activity.
'All of the partners and the senior people are in,' the tall, trim woman told the Superintendent, as she carried two cups of coffee into the main meeting room, laying them on white coasters on the long table. 'Mr Johnston-White has been appointed acting head of the firm, and he's instructed everyone to call round their contacts and reassure them that our operations and strategies will be unaffected by Mr Shearer's death.'
She frowned. 'Whether or not they believe us; that's something else.'
'Won't Mrs Shearer have a say in what happens?' the detective asked. 'I've been assuming that her husband's share of the business will pass to her.'
'It's not as simple as that,' said Ms Bryant. 'The firm has a Keyman insurance policy in place which provides funds for the purchase of the interests of a deceased partner, and the partnership agreement incudes an undertaking to sell which is binding on the heirs.
'Not that Edith will be thinking about that right now, though. I spoke to her this morning before I came here. The poor woman; she's distraught. We all are, of course, but for her… Their son is catching a flight from Sydney around now, but it'll be the middle of tomorrow before he gets home.'
'Give me the flight time,' Pringle said. 'I'll have a car meet him and take him out to Gullane.'
He sipped his coffee, then picked up a chocolate digestive biscuit. 'So Mrs Shearer will be looked after by the firm?' he continued.
'Mmm.' The secretary nodded. 'That's the theory of it. There is one big practical difficulty, though. The Keyman policy pays out at various levels, depending upon who the deceased partner is, but there's a cap of five million pounds. That's the amount which will be available to Mrs Shearer.
'The problem is that when he died, Mr Shearer was about to conclude the sale of the partnership to the Golden Crescent Bank of Malaysia for eighty-five million pounds. Since he owned sixty per cent of the partnership equity, that rather makes a nonsense of the Keyman policy cap.
'The surviving partners are still keen that the sale should go ahead. In fact, Mr Johnston-White is flying to Kuala Lumpur tonight for a meeting with the Golden Crescent people. If it does, then Mr Shearer's estate will benefit accordingly. But if it doesn't… it can still be argued that the negotiations have established a valuation of his holding which is far in excess of the sum available from the Keyman policy.
'The business is cash-rich, but it couldn't afford an extra forty-five million pounds, not to buy back its own equity, at any rate.'
'I see what you mean,' murmured the detective, through his moustache.
'Who knew about this deal?' he asked.
'The industry has known for some time that Golden Crescent was in the market for an independent British fund manager, to kick-start a European expansion programme. There have been newspaper references, and, obviously, as the leading investment house in Scotland, Daybelge has been the subject of a lot of speculation.
'Other firms have been mentioned too, of course. Mr Shearer was aware that Golden Crescent had been talking seriously to another Edinburgh house, but he saw them off.'
'How important was Mr Shearer personally to this deal?'
Janine Bryant looked into her coffee cup as if it was tea, and she was trying to read the future in its leaves. 'We'll find that out when Mr Johnston-White gets to Kuala Lumpur. He's worried enough to be taking Mr Laidlaw, our solicitor, and one of his partners along. My feeling is that he was almost essential. Golden Crescent may well look elsewhere.'
'Where?'
'I'm afraid they may be tempted to go back to Paris Simons, the house they turned down in favour of us.'
'So Mr Shearer's death could turn out to be worth a hell of a lot of money to their partners?'
The woman gave him a knowing look. 'Oh yes, Mr Pringle, it could indeed.'
54
'We've got to stop meeting like this, pal, or people will talk,' said Bob Skinner, grimly, as Andy Martin looked down at him on his hospital bed, in a small private room in Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. 'A couple of days ago and it was me doing the sick visiting.'
'What's the damage?' his friend asked, gesturing at his left leg, which lay outside the sheets, encased in plaster from the knee down.
'They're not sure yet, although they say there's nothing broken. It could be no more than severe bruising, but there's the possibility of ligament damage in my ankle. They've put this pot on for a week, to immobilise it and keep me from putting weight on it.'
'I wanted them to plaster the other leg too,' Sarah chuckled from the doorway, 'to make sure he stays off it. They wouldn't, though.'
Her husband looked at her, unsmiling. 'When I find the driver of that car,' he growled, 'I want at least one good leg to stand on… so I can kick his fucking head in with this stookey.'
'You're still sure it was deliberate?' Martin murmured, gently. 'Couldn't it have been just an accident? A learner driver out on a back road.'
Skinner glared at him. 'I'm as sure as you were on Friday morning,' he snapped. 'The bastard was aiming at me — aiming at us! Christ, when I think of it…' His eyes were chilling.
'How are the boys?' Andy asked.
'Mark got a hell of a fright. As for the wee fella, he thought it was the best game I'd ever invented; he wanted me to do it again.' He grinned at the memory, through his rage. 'He's like a big rubber ball, that one…' The smile vanished as quickly as it had come. 'But he flew right out of the carrier, Andy. He could have hit his head on a rock or anything; for a moment I thought that he had.'
'Where are they now?'
'Alex is with them, out at Gullane,' Sarah answered. 'Alex?'
'Yes. And yes, Andy, I told her. She sends her very best — to both of you — and she really means it. She was as surprised as we were at first, but when she'd thought about it, she reckoned that it was the best thing that could happen to you.'
Martin nodded. 'That's good. I was just a bit worried about how she would take it.'
'Me too. But maybe it's the best thing that could happen to her too. It'll finally allow her to get over you.'
'Sure, she will.' He assured her, then turned to Skinner once more. 'But back to this car. As soon as I heard, I put an "all vehicles" call out for anything answering that description. I dropped Karen at the office to wait for any response, but to be honest, Bob, I thought at the time that we were way too late.'