Quintin Jardine - Wearing Purple

‘I’ll bet this was champagne in the old days,’ said the detective.

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Jan agreed. ‘But even now, what would the folk in Easterhouse and Castlemilk think if they could see this?’

‘They’d think their rents were too high,’ I muttered. ‘They’d think that they’d rather have an extra copper on the beat.’

‘Hey come on, Oz,’ Dylan protested. ‘We got a good result for the people today.’

‘Sure you did, but you’re only sticking your finger in a hole in the dyke, just like the Lord Provost said. How did you come to meet his daughter, anyway?’

‘One of the Crime Squad guys introduced us in a pub one night. We just hit it off.’

‘What does Mrs Dylan think about it?’ I asked, casually, as the room began to fill up around us. His face clouded over. I could see that for the first time ever, I had got to him. To my surprise, I felt slightly rotten about it.

‘Come on, Oz.You must know that Maxine walked out on me. Every other bugger in Edinburgh does.’

‘Yes of course, Mike, I’d forgotten. I’m sorry; that was uncalled for.’ I shot him a quick, let’s make up, smile. ‘The wee lass seems nice though.’

He switched back into the normal Dylan mode at once. ‘She is that. Where she gets the energy from I don’t know.’ He grinned; actually, it wasn’t far short of a leer. ‘Fair wears me out, she does.’ I didn’t need to look at Jan to gauge her reaction. I could feel her bristling beside me.

A young waiter, brandishing a tray of canapes, intervened at just the right moment. Our detective friend grabbed three quails eggs, fried and served on circles of toast, plus two cornets filled with prawns. My wife and I declined, feeling guilty about the people in Easterhouse and Castlemilk, and with a thought to our pizza, which had only been postponed.

Dylan was halfway through his second quail’s egg, when I saw him look up, his eyes widening. All of a sudden a shadow fell over me.

‘Well hello, buddy. Hello again, Mrs Blackstone. I didn’t know you moved in these circles.’

‘We don’t, Everett,’ I said, accepting the huge — and mercifully gentle — handshake. ‘We were arrested and brought here by our friend, Detective Inspector Dylan. You’ve just been greeted by his girlfriend and her father, over by the entrance.’

‘Ah.’ He looked down at the policeman, who seemed totally stunned by the newcomer. ‘So you’re with Susie, huh. Lucky man.’

That’s three of us who’re lucky, in that case , I heard myself think, as I looked at the coffee-skinned woman who stood beside my newest client. I had seen her before, of course, mewing and taunting seductively, from the video screen in the GWA studio.

‘You haven’t met Diane yet, have you, Oz?’ She looked at me with big, soft, brown eyes. There was something about her which told me, in the same instant, who was boss in the Davis household. But in the same moment it came to me that people probably thought the same about my wife.

The giant leaned down towards Dylan, in a half bow. ‘Hi, I’m Everett Davis.’

‘Better known as Daze?’ the policeman ventured.

A laugh rumbled up, and surfaced. ‘Probably: but it’s okay, Daze ain’t here tonight. Just Everett and Diane Davis, a businessman and his wife.’ He turned to me. ‘Jack Gantry invited us as a personal favour. I’m trying to cut a deal with an Estonian station, so when I heard about this reception, I had to be here.’

‘So how do you come to know Oz?’ DI Mike butted in. He sounded incredulous; it was my turn to feel a bit narked.

‘We have a mutual friend,’ the wrestler replied, without a sign of a pause or hesitation. ‘He introduced us.’

‘Are you a fan of the Global Wrestling Alliance, Mike?’ I asked. I know; I’m a sod, but I just can’t resist winding that man up. I could tell that he was the sort of bloke who would be a fan, but embarrassed to admit it.

He seemed to flush, slightly, telling me in the process that my guess had been spot on. ‘I’ve seen it on occasion,’ he mumbled.

Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket. ‘Come see us in Newcastle on Saturday, then. Bring Susie and her father. These are for the VIP area.’ He produced three tickets and handed them to Dylan. I recognised them, since he had given me four as I left his office.

‘Are youse all enjoying yourselves, then?’ The Lord Provost’s easy, confident voice sounded from behind us, but his accent was noticeably different, now that there were more people around. It struck me that he must slip into Glesca’ patois when he was performing for a wider audience. I turned and there he was moving towards us, all gold chain and Mr Glasgow smile, with a slim, grey-haired man following in his wake.

‘Everett,’ he said, his voice dropping to its former level, and his accent returning to normal, ‘if you have a minute, the Prime Minister would like to speak to you.’

As he turned, the big man gave me a lightning fast wink. ‘Of course, Jack.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘Where can we talk?’

‘Come on through to my office. No one will disturb us there.’ For a second, I thought he was going to try to throw an avuncular hand around Everett’s shoulders, but he couldn’t reach that high: instead he simply patted him, somewhere in the lower part of his back.

‘See you tomorrow night,’ the big man whispered to me, as he moved off with the Lord Provost and the Prime Minister. Automatically, without a sign from her husband, Diane went with them.

‘Your dad seems pretty pally with Everett,’ I said to Susie.

She nodded. ‘He performed the opening ceremony at the GWA headquarters building. And he appeared at the ring at their first show in the SECC. Ever since they came to Glasgow, he’s been telling people what a benefit they bring in selling the city abroad.

‘Yes, you could say that he’s a big Daze fan’

As Susie spoke a drinks waitress appeared at my shoulder, as if the Lord Provost’s departure had been her cue. She offered her tray to our group: our detective friend picked up two glasses at once, handing one to the Lady Provost, but my wife shook her head.

I took the hint. ‘No thanks,’ I said. ‘Susie, it’s been nice to meet you. It’s even been good to see you again, Mike,’ I slipped in as an aside. ‘But we’d better be going.’

‘Yes,’ Jan added. ‘It was great of you to invite us along: I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But I have some work to catch up on this evening.’

‘My pleasure,’ Susie Gantry replied. She gave us a smile, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared, with the slight frown which creased her forehead. ‘Do you have time for any more work, Jan?’ she asked, suddenly.

My wife looked at her, surprised. ‘Just about,’ she answered. ‘It would depend how much was involved.’

The Lord Provost’s daughter reached into her red leather shoulder-bag, and produced a card. ‘Give me a call tomorrow, and we’ll fix up a meeting. You can tell me a bit more about yourself, and I’ll show you the Gantry Group.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jan. ‘I’ll take you up on that.’

I don’t really know what made me do it. I suppose it would have been churlish not to, yet I’ve never had a problem being a churl when it’s been necessary. I picked out my business card from the supply I always keep in my breast pocket and handed it to Dylan. ‘Give me a bell yourself, Mike, if you fancy a pint sometime.’

He looked at me as if a show of friendship was an unusual experience for him. . and I guessed that it probably was. ‘I’ll do that,’ he answered, ‘once I’m settled through here.’

‘Where are you going to be living?’

‘We’re talking about that at the moment,’ said Susie, with a worldly grin.