Tango One by Stephen Leather

Author:Stephen Leather [Leather, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780753117132
Publisher: Ulverscroft Large Print
Published: 2010-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

Donovan wrinkled his nose. He still didn't like the idea of bringing in a lawyer he didn't know.

"You'd be better off having her arguing your case than me, Den. How's it going to look if you've got a criminal lawyer by your side in a custody fight? I keep people out of prison, Den. I don't discuss the finer points of parental control."

Donovan nodded.

"And she's dead safe, yeah?"

"Anything you tell her is privileged, Den. Like talking to a priest."

Donovan grinned.

"It's been almost thirty years since I spoke to a priest, and that was to tell him if he patted me on the backside again I'd set fire to his church. Okay, when I do I meet her?"

"I'll get her down now. I'll sit in on the initial briefing, yeah?"

"Cheers, Laurence."

Patterson went over to his desk and picked up his phone. While he was speaking, Donovan stared at a large canvas on the wall opposite him. It was about five feet wide and four feet high and was nothing more than three red squares on a yellow background. Donovan frowned as he looked at the painting, trying to work out what, if anything, the artist had been trying to say. The colours were vivid and the squares were accurately drawn, but Donovan couldn't see anything in the painting that a reasonably competent six-year-old couldn't have copied.

Patterson replaced the receiver and walked back to the sofas.

"How much did you pay for that?" asked Donovan, gesturing at the canvas.

"Fucked if I know," said Patterson.

"Purchasing gets them by the yard, I think."

"But you chose it, right?"

Patterson twisted around to get a better look.

"Nah, my secretary makes those sorts of decisions. They get rotated every few weeks."

"Yeah, it'd look better turned around," said Donovan.

"It's just something to look at. Makes the clients feel that we've got a creative side."

Donovan chuckled.

"You've got that all right," he said. Patterson's creativity had got him out of more than his fair share of scrapes, especially when he'd been named as Tango One.

There was a double knock on the door. It opened before Patterson had time to react, and Julia Lau walked in. She was one of the most unattractive women that Donovan had ever seen. She was overweight, bordering on obese, and her thighs rubbed together in a dark green trouser suit as she waddled over to the sofas, clutching a stack of files and notebooks to her large chest. Her face was almost circular, with thick-lensed spectacles perched precariously on the end of a bulbous nose. When she smiled she showed a mouthful of grey teeth.

"Mr. Donovan, so happy to meet you," she said, extending a hand. Her accent was faultless, pure English public school.

Donovan shook hands with her. She had pudgy, sausage-like fingers with ornate gold rings on each one and fingernails that were bitten to the quick.

"Laurence has told me so much about you."

Donovan looked at Patterson and arched an eyebrow.

"Has he now?"

"Just that you were a valued client with a matrimonial problem," said Patterson.

Lau dropped her files and notebooks on to the coffee table and lowered herself down on the sofa next to Donovan.

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