‘No, I’m fine, sir,’ Shona said. But Baird took her half-empty glass, flagged down a passing waiter and swapped it for a full one. ‘Thank you, sir.’ She had a two-hour drive home. This would put her over Scotland’s strict, one-drink limit. Baird looked like he was already there.
‘Call me Gavin. First name terms tonight. I’ll go back to being detective chief inspector tomorrow. Cheers, Shona.’ He clinked his glass against hers, then watched her over the rim as he swallowed a mouthful of warm champagne.
‘Cheers… Gavin.’ Shona pressed the glass to her mouth, but didn’t drink.
Across the room she saw Kenny Hanlon glad-handing through the crowd. In contrast to the sober dinner suits and uniforms around him, he was wearing a flamboyant saffron-coloured jacket in designer tweed, the fine check exactly matching the pale hazel-gold of his eyes. Hanlon paused to introduce two beaming businessmen to a third, thin-faced man with a smile like a knife gash. Hanlon’s voice carried above the hubbub of the room. ‘David, Andy, I’d like to introduce you to Evan Campbell, I know you will have lots to talk about.’
Hanlon must have felt Shona’s gaze upon him. He strode over to join them. ‘Detective Inspector Oliver, I just thought I’d take the opportunity to say hello. And your husband Rob? He’s in banking, isn’t he? Is he here with you tonight?’
Whoever had briefed him on the guest list had been thorough. Shona shook his hand. ‘Mr Hanlon.’ She kept her attention from straying to his hairline, and the peculiar upstanding brush of hair. ‘Yes, Rob’s here somewhere, but he’s left banking. He’s in hospitality and tourism now.’
‘Smart move, man after my own heart.’ He kept her hand tight in his grasp. ‘Why haven’t we met before?’ He tilted his head to one side, a coquettish twinkle in his eye.
‘I don’t usually socialise in such elevated circles.’ She smiled and retrieved her hand with a firm pull.
‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I believe you’re the first female detective inspector I’ve met. So, what’s next?’ He looked at her expectantly, his hands clasped in front of him. Beyond the opening titles, Shona had never watched his show. Was this a catchphrase she should be smiling in recognition at? She had the sense that she was auditioning for something. Shona exchanged a quizzical glance with her boss.
‘Come on now, Gavin,’ said Hanlon. ‘DI Oliver would be such an asset to our project, I hope you’ve brought her on board?’
‘Of course,’ Baird assured him.
‘We might have a future chief constable here. Project like this is always good for the CV.’ Hanlon beamed at them. ‘No offence to you, Gavin.’
‘None taken,’ said Baird.
Shona smiled tightly. ‘I’m very happy where I am but… thank you for the vote of confidence.’
‘Inspector.’ Hanlon gave her a little bow, running his eyes across Shona’s figure, lingering on her neckline. He smiled. ‘Excuse me.’ Turning, he raised a hand and hailed a handsome, silver-haired man Shona recognised as a BBC Scotland news presenter. ‘Alastair!’ Hanlon set off like a vivid yellow speedboat through a sea of black suits.
‘Why am I here, exactly?’ Shona rotated the stem of her champagne glass between her fingers.
‘Same reason I am,’ said Baird, not looking at her. ‘To celebrate the launch of the new crime prevention initiative and all the improvements it’s going to bring, and to make sure we’re all on the same page.’
Shona stared at him. Just what was he implying?
‘I don’t have to tell you the difference this will make to our budgets, and the community,’ he added piously. ‘And an initiative this size doesn’t happen without a few hiccups, a few minor indiscretions. As local chief it falls to you to make sure some over-zealous officer doesn’t balls things up.’ He raised his eyebrows, seeking confirmation that she’d grasped the full implications of what he’d just said. The message was clear. I expect you to make this work, whatever it takes. You’re either with me or against me. Time to choose a side.
‘Ah, here’s your husband.’ Baird drained his glass as Rob arrived. ‘Another drink?’
‘No, thank you.’ She put her hand over her glass. ‘I’m driving.’
‘No, no need for that. There’s a room booked for you both here. Make a night of it.’
Rob’s smile widened but Shona shook her head. She knew it wouldn’t end with the free drinks. There would be a late meal, then somebody would mention the casino. No one was going to put temptation in her husband’s way. Before she could answer, a tall, slim woman, polished to a hard shine, took Baird’s arm. She wore a tight red dress made up of strips of fabric and her blonde hair was swept up into a complicated knot. On someone else the clearly expensive dress might have looked cheap, but this woman had the figure and authority to carry it off.
‘This is my wife, Nicola,’ Baird said with obvious pride. They shook hands, Shona aware how smooth and pale Nicola’s hand felt in her own sun-browned, sea-roughened grip.
‘What a wonderful evening, I’m so glad you could make it,’ Nicola said, as if she was the hostess. ‘The area where I’m a councillor will be greatly improved by this initiative.’ Nicola was obviously in full, sound-bite mode. ‘We aim to cut the re-offending rate, which is frankly atrocious, through a series of projects to educate these people to be better members of society. I think it’s important for those of us who’ve been lucky in life to provide a moral lead. I just hope the people we’re trying to help appreciate it.’
Rob smiled and nodded but Shona knew he hadn’t been listening to a word Nicola said. Other people’s problems bored him, and if he was thinking about Nicola at all it would be how she got in and out of the intricate wrappings of her dress and whether she was wearing any underwear.
It was the familiar prejudice, the deserving rich and the undeserving poor. ‘Crime is a social issue, not a moral one,’ Shona said flatly. ‘The only difference between people in poverty and the rich is money. Cash in the bank doesn’t give you a more refined morality, often the opposite is true.’ And it doesn’t give you carte blanche to be a condescending cow, she refrained from adding.
‘Well,’ said Nicola, momentarily lost for words, ‘that’s an interesting point of view.’
Shona could have sworn she saw Baird smirk at Nicola’s discomfort, but he quickly suppressed it and, clapping his hands together, suggested they track down some canapes. He slipped his arm around Nicola’s waist and guided her away.
To Rob’s delight he spotted old friends from Glasgow University Business School and after much back-slapping and introductions to a group of red-faced, boisterous men who Shona thought looked like bankers, or a word close to that, he disappeared with them to the bar.