Fallen Gods

Five

"Busy Friday in the Borders, was it?" Maggie flashed a smile as she asked the question, but nothing but indifference showed in her eyes.

"You know what Fridays are like, Detective Superintendent Rose," he answered; nothing had been asked directly, no lie had been told. "What about yours?"

"My division's always quiet on a Friday. All my criminals are out getting drunk."

She peered at him as he came to stand beside her, filling the kettle from the kitchen tap. "You should keep an electric razor in that office of yours, McGuire. You need a shave."

"It's my new weekend look."

She sniffed. "At least you don't need a wash. That's a very fetching shower gel you've been using."

He ignored her jibe. "Where's Rufus?" he asked.

She nodded towards the window. "Outside, in his den."

He looked out into the garden and saw that the door of the new summerhouse, where the toddler kept his larger toys, was open. "He's happy, then. I thought we might take him down to North Berwick later on."

"If you like, "his wife muttered.

As he put the kettle on its stand and switched it on, he saw the tension in her jawline. "Mags, what's up?" he asked.

She turned and stared at him, incredulity in her eyes. "Are you serious? You come swarming in here at going on eleven on a Saturday morning, and you ask me what's up?"

"Mags''

"Don't." She held up her hands as if to fend him off, although he had made no move towards her. "Just don't. I know it's all my fault. I can't be a wife to you any more, so how can I expect you to be a husband to me? I'm sorry; I shouldn't have got sarky with you. Things being as they are I suppose I should be grateful that you come home at all."

"I'll always come home, honey. You know that."

"God knows why."

"Yes, he does, because I stood before him and told him. I love you."

"What's to love?" She slapped her abdomen, violently.

"There's more to you than that."

"Just as well," she retorted, 'for I was never very good at it anyway."

He winced. "You weren't…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Don't look at me like that, it's true. That particular part of marriage has always been an effort for me, especially since we found out that we couldn't have kids. It was difficult enough when there was some point to it. I tried, for your sake, but now I just can't, not any more."

The sound of boiling water reached a crescendo, then subsided as the kettle switched itself off. "Okay," he said, reaching for two mugs.

"I've told you; I understand."

"Yes, and I understand you too. Here, let me do that." She brushed him aside and took the mugs from him, then spooned coffee granules into each one. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch."

He sighed. "You're not. Shop; let's talk shop," he exclaimed, suddenly.

"If you insist," she agreed, brightly. "I had a chat with our colleague Detective Superintendent Jay yesterday. He and I are thinking about having a joint raid on those saunas your cousin Paula owns. We have some in each of our divisions."

He gasped. "Don't you bloody dare!" he snapped. "Those places are licensed and they're above reproach."

Her laugh was filled with sarcasm. "They're sex shops, Mario."

"Maybe, but that's how we control the game in Edinburgh, and you and

Greg Jay know it. Paula doesn't take a penny from the women who work there and she makes sure they're clean and drug-free."

"I know, you've told me this before. She's really a social worker."

"In her own way." He looked at her, eyes narrowing. "You're pulling my chain, aren't you?"

"Just a bit."

He returned her faint smile. "I've changed my mind; you are a bitch.

Anyway, she's selling them."

"She is? Why?"

"Because I asked her to."

"Ah, you do find it embarrassing, then."

"Just a touch, but that's not it. I don't believe that her ownership of those places is compatible with her position as a trustee of the

Viareggio businesses. That is definitely not a business sector we want to get into, or even be associated with, by implication."

"Her late father thought that too when he was a trustee, and she paid no attention to him."

"Uncle Beppe wasn't thinking about taking the businesses public'

"And you are?"

"It's an option."

"Whose idea is it? Yours, or Alexis Skinner's."

"It's Alex's, but I'll take a bit of the credit; I asked her to do a report for us on possible ways forward."

"Very good." She smiled again. "You know, of course, that a lot of people are calling you an arse-kisser, for appointing the boss's daughter to look after your business affairs."

"Give me their names," he said, grimly, 'and I'll go and see them, one by one. Or are you one of them?"

"No, I'm not," she retorted. "Give me credit for knowing you better than that. Anyway, I know how good a lawyer she's become. You don't get to be an associate of her firm at her age if you're not. She must be costing you, though, and in travel too, with her being based in London."

"It's worth it."

"How's she taking what happened to her dad?"

"How do you think? She's in shock, like the rest of us."

"No surprise." Maggie picked up her coffee, walked over to the back door, opened it and stepped out into the garden. Mario slipped off his jacket, threw it across the kitchen table and followed. Hearing them, Rufus toddled out of his playhouse and waved.

"Does Alex's firm do family law?" she asked him, as she waved back at her tiny half-brother.

He blinked, caught by surprise. "No," he replied, feeling a sudden lurch in his stomach. "Why do you ask? Do you want a divorce?"

It was her turn to be taken aback. "What? No, don't be daft. There's no such thought in my mind, for all that I've been bitching. You asked me if there was something wrong earlier on, when I got tore into you.

As usual, my dear, you read me right." She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and took out a folded white envelope. "This came in today's post."

Mario took it from her. He looked at it and frowned when he saw that it was addressed to Mrs. Margaret McGuire, a name his wife had never adopted. He flipped it open and took out the letter inside. The heading was the first thing that caught his eye.

"Redway Chatham, Solicitors, Guildford," he read aloud. "What the fuck's this?"

He looked at Maggie and saw that her earlier tension was back. "It's all in legal language," she said, 'and English law at that. I'll save you the trouble of wading through it. I've done that often enough now;

I understand exactly what it says. Redway Chatham are acting for Rufus's great-uncle, Mr. Franklin Chamberlain, of Alton, Hampshire, and his wife Lydia.

"They are asking us, very politely so far, to hand him over to them. If we refuse, they say they'll instruct solicitors up here, and counsel if necessary, to petition for custody in the Scottish court. They say that it will be up to me to defend that if I choose, and to prove my claim to a blood relationship with Rufus. If I do, it'll be for the court to decide between us, as potential parents."

"Jesus!" Mario exclaimed. "Who is this guy Chamberlain, do we know?

What is he? His sister, Rufus's grandmother, has a shady background; that we do know. What if he's from the same school? No, no, bugger that for a game."

"The man is Rufus's mother's godfather," she told him, 'as well as being her uncle. And he's legit.; very much so. I've had him checked out already. He's forty years old, he's deputy chief executive of a major insurance company, and his wife is a county councillor. They have two children themselves, one only a year older than Rufus."

"So what?" He waved the letter in the air in anger. "Are we poor people? Are we, hell. Do they think we can't bring him up? Too bloody right we can. Who the fuck do they think they are? What makes them think the sheriff will find for them… or the Court of Session, if it goes that far? Like I said, Alex's firm don't handle this sort of stuff, but they'll recommend someone, the best. I'll call her now."

He started for the house, but she caught his arm and held him back.

"Wait," she said, softly. He looked at her and saw that she was on the edge of tears.

"I can't, Mario. I can't go to court over this. If I did, I'd have to prove that my father and his were one and the same man. DNA would do that beyond doubt, but what if Chamberlain's counsel wouldn't leave it at that? What if he asked me questions about our estrangement, about why he left and why I never tried to find him, even though I was better placed to than most, as a police officer? And I'd be under oath; I would have to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Can you imagine the press coverage? I can, and I know that I could not take it. I'm having enough trouble holding myself together as it is. If we fought this, and if that happened, as it would.. "

She shook her head slowly, from side to side. "Everything would be over; my career, me, everything. Love, if that can of worms gets open, there's no telling where they'll burrow."

He stood there, white-faced where before he had been red with anger, knowing that everything she had said was true.

"The Chamberlains sound like responsible people," she went on. "They can only be doing this because they care about Rufus. We have to give him to them."

Mario's shoulders slumped. "And where does that leave us, Mags? What does it leave us?"

"It leaves us each other," she answered. "For as long as you want, that is."

He pulled her to him and hugged her, but she stiffened in his embrace, and he released it, at once. They stood there, awkwardly, listening to

Rufus chattering to his toys, in the playhouse they had built for him.

And then a phone rang; the song of a mobile. He strained to hear it.

"Yours or mine?" he asked.

"Mine." She left him and trotted back into the kitchen.

She returned a minute later, her cellphone still in her hand. "I've got to go. There's a fire in the Royal Scottish Academy in Princes Street, and they're saying it's arson."

Maggie looked at her half-brother, who had emerged from his hut and was smiling up at them both. "You take him to the seaside," she told her husband. "It'll probably be the last chance you get."