Murmuring the Judges

42

‘The trouble is, Bob, although I’m the head of the firm, there’s a limit to my powers of compulsion over my partners. In fact, in theory I don’t have any.’ Mitchell Laidlaw looked at Skinner across the desk, unblinking.

‘You know Hannah Johnson, the head of our Private Client Division, don’t you?’

‘Thanks for your delicacy, mate,’ Skinner growled. ‘You’re bloody well aware that I do, since you recommended her to draw up my separation agreement a while back.’

‘Well in that case, it won’t have escaped your notice that Hannah is a stickler for propriety. Between you and me, when she gets on her high horse it can be difficult to persuade her to dismount.

‘I suggest that you speak to her and see how she reacts. Better that it’s just the two of you, I think. I wouldn’t want Mrs Johnson to get the idea that I was trying to lean on her in any way.’ The DCC nodded agreement, and the burly lawyer picked up his telephone. He spun his chair round so that his back was to Skinner, leaving his guest to admire the view of Edinburgh Castle as he spoke to his colleague.

After a minute or two he turned again and replaced the receiver. ‘Give her a couple of minutes, and she’ll see you. I haven’t told her what it is, only that it’s official rather than personal business.’

He paused. ‘Incidentally, if I may be indelicate for a change, how are you and Sarah getting along?’

The policeman smiled. ‘Couldn’t be better,’ he replied. ‘It’s a funny thing, but surviving a thing like that can bring you closer together than ever as a couple. I guess some bonds are unbreakable.

‘The new house was a good idea too. We’re going to throw a party before the summer’s over, so keep a Saturday in September free.’ He stood up, and Laidlaw led him to the door and out into the panelled corridor.

‘There’s a meeting room available just along here, Bob.’ In a few strides he reached a dark wood door which he threw open. ‘Hannah will join you any minute now.

‘See you tonight?’ Laidlaw asked, as Skinner stepped past him into the windowless room.

‘Lads’ night? I never miss it if I can help it. And after the week I’ve had so far, I’m looking forward to letting off some steam.’

‘That sounds ominous. See you later, then.’

He left the policeman alone in the meeting room. However, he barely had time to glance at the pictures on the grey-papered walls before the door opened once more and the slim grey-suited figure of Hannah Johnson entered.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Skinner,’ she began. ‘It’s nice to see you again. . I think. How can I help you?’

‘You act for Lord Archergait, I believe, Mrs Johnson. . or at least for his estate.’

‘That’s right.’

‘As you’ll be aware, his death, and that of Lord Barnfather, are the subject of police investigations. It’s been brought to our attention that the two of them were in the process of setting up some sort of joint trust, vesting their property in the Faculty of Advocates.’

The solicitor reached up a slim hand and touched her immaculate silver-blonde hair. ‘That’s correct,’ she said slowly. ‘The documents were being finalised when Lord Archergait died.’

‘Finalised but not signed?’

‘That’s correct.’ She flashed him a quick, mischievous smile. ‘Unfortunately for the poor boys and girls up in Parliament House.’

Skinner grinned back at her. ‘They’ll survive, I’m sure.

‘The thing is, Mrs Johnson, this is all potentially relevant to a murder investigation. So far, my officers have been told a few stories about Lord Archergait, and his family relationships. We need to sort out truth from fiction, and I was hoping that you would be able to help us, informally.’

The woman’s slim features creased into a frown. ‘Did Mitch Laidlaw say I would?’

‘Absolutely not. He was quite emphatic that you would follow your own instincts, and that he couldn’t influence you.’

‘Are you asking me to breach my duty of confidentiality to my client?’

The policeman scratched his chin. ‘No, I don’t think I am. . since your client is dead.’ He paused. ‘As far as the interests of the Estate are concerned, why don’t I try you with a few specific questions. If you have a problem with any of them, tell me about it, and we’ll see where we go from there.’

Hannah Johnson raised an eyebrow. ‘For example, we might go to Court, to force me to co-operate?’

‘God forbid,’ said Skinner. ‘The last thing I want to do is take legal action against my daughter’s employers.’

She laughed. ‘Yes, I’d forgotten about Alex. Okay, let me see how far I can help.’

‘Good. So let’s begin. First, can you tell me how long the firm has acted for Lord Archergait?’

‘Since before my time here. This is an old-established practice, as you know. I believe that decades ago Lord Archergait completed his initial training here before going to the Bar, and that we’ve acted for him since then.’

‘So that means that you acted throughout his marriage to Lady Archergait and in the period leading to her death.’

‘Yes we did, although at one point, Lady Archergait used her own family solicitors.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because at one point, they were involved in drawing up a will on her behalf.’

The DCC showed surprise, involuntarily but only momentarily. ‘We’ve been told that Lady Archergait had made a will leaving all her property to her two sons,’ he continued. ‘According to our source, at the time of her death Lord Archergait destroyed it and denied its existence.’

‘Then either your source or their source is malicious,’ said the solicitor. ‘Because that story just isn’t true. Lord Archergait didn’t tear up the will: it was superseded, about five years before Lady Archergait’s death, by a joint will in which they left their property to each other, passing to the sons after them.’

‘That’s funny. It doesn’t quite fit the picture painted for us of Lord Archergait as a domestic tyrant.’

‘Don’t be so sure. The joint will was Lord Archergait’s idea. I was only an assistant then but I was entrusted with drawing it up. I got the impression that he had only just found out about Lady A’s earlier arrangement and had made her change it, naming him as principal beneficiary. From a hint she dropped once, I formed the impression that she had only agreed on the basis that the sons were named as second beneficiaries.’

‘I see,’ muttered Skinner. ‘So presumably that joint will remains in existence, given that Archergait never did sign the most recent one in favour of the Faculty?’

Mrs Johnson hesitated. ‘This is where it starts to get difficult for me.’ She stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, then back at the policeman. ‘Oh, what the hell. You’re a client too, so this is just between you and me.’

‘Until it gets to the witness box.’

‘Fair enough. The joint will is no longer in force. Lord Archergait gave me a letter a month ago, renouncing its terms.’

‘Why did he bother?’

‘It was part of the setting-up process for the bequest. He and Barnfather knew that it couldn’t be done overnight, so to guard against either one of them dying during the setting-up process, they entered a joint minute of agreement setting out their intention and naming each one as the other’s executor, in the event of death, with power to complete the transaction.’

The DCC threw his head back and sucked in a long hissing breath. ‘I see.’

He looked across the table at the lawyer. ‘So what’s the position now?’

‘There’s no one left to execute the trust deed. In theory both old men died intestate.’

‘In theory?’

‘Yes, because the King brothers could execute the deed, on their father’s behalf at least. Alternatively, they could go to Court to have the original will reinstated. Or they could do nothing and it would have the same effect, since they’re the only blood relatives.’

‘For the brothers to execute the deed, would they have to be in agreement?’

‘For sure. If either one objected, it couldn’t be done. . unless, of course the Faculty tried to raise an action to implement the joint minute of agreement.’

‘Would such an action succeed?’

Hannah Johnson smiled again. ‘It might, but my guess would be that it could be appealed all the way up to the House of Lords. In that event the whole estate would go on legal fees.’

‘Have you had any indication yet of what might happen?’

She nodded. ‘I’ve had a letter from solicitors acting for Norman King, asking for information on the amount of the estate. I’ve spoken to them. They didn’t confirm it but I’m in no doubt that he intends to claim a half share.’

‘Do you think Norman King knew of his father’s intention, and of the joint minute?’

‘The letter from his solicitor seems to indicate that he did, which surprises me a little, since Lord Archergait and Lord Barnfather both stressed the need for confidentiality. I hope I need not tell you that nothing would leak from my office.’

‘Of course you needn’t,’ said Skinner. ‘But who could have told him about it?’

‘That’s the big question,’ she answered. ‘So far, I can only think of the person who witnessed the document.’

‘And who was that?’

‘Lord Archibald, the Lord Advocate.’