“Faced with Anisha’s letter, Alison of course put two and two together. I suspect she was holding the threat of exposure over Cordelia, and in doing that, she signed her own death warrant. Cordelia was spending time in Glasgow then, supposedly looking for me. I would imagine it won’t be too difficult to put her in the right place at the right time.” She stopped abruptly.

“I see,” he said pensively. “And it’s your contention that the boy you produced last night actually did see Cordelia leaving the flat?”

“That’s right. I know that on the surface he might not seem the most reliable of witnesses, but I think he’s telling the truth. He had no reason to lie, and he was so accurate about his timings. The reason I met him was nothing whatsoever to do with the murder. It was he who volunteered the information to me, and he said spontaneously that it was just after six because he heard the radio news starting as he left his client’s flat. I believe him, Jim, I really do,” she said persuasively.

He nodded slowly, and sat silent for a moment, as if he were carefully weighing what she had said in some private balance. Then he said, “You’ve done a good job, Lindsay. It can’t have been easy for you to come here with this evidence.”

Lindsay said nothing of her temptation to destroy the letter, merely saying, “How soon will Jackie be in the clear?”

“I can’t be certain,” he replied. “But I’ll be placing this new evidence in the hands of the Procurator Fiscal just as soon as I’ve had this fingerprint checked. Then it will simply be a matter of deciding what procedure to adopt. The Fiscal may decide at once to reopen the case. If he does, I’ll immediately apply to the court for Jackie to be released on bail pending appeal, and I’ll apply to the Secretary of State for a pardon. It could be days, it could be weeks. But either way, she’ll soon be free again. And I know she’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

Lindsay shrugged. “She might thank me. But there are others who won’t. And I’ve got to face one of them right now.”

21

Lindsay eyed the receptionist coldly. “You’re seriously trying to tell me that Miss Ogilvie is completely tied up in meetings for every minute of the day?”

The receptionist gave Lindsay the frozen stare of her breed. “All I can do is pass on what her secretary has just told me. Miss Ogilvie’s diary is full today and she cannot see you.”

“Doesn’t she eat lunch? Doesn’t she take a coffee break?” Lindsay persisted.

“I really have no idea what Miss Ogilvie’s nutritional arrangements are,” the receptionist retaliated, pointedly opening a file and reading its contents.