The Ardmore Inheritance by Rob Wyllie (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

Maggie wandered up to one of them, wrinkling her nose as she tried to remember their pseudonyms.

'Caroline Watts from the Chronicle. I'm here to interview Chief Constable Pollock. And this is our photographer Robert Watts. And no relation, before you ask,' she added, smiling.

The young woman flicked over a couple of pages of her list until she found their names, giving a nod of recognition before scoring them through with a ruler and ballpoint.

'And do you have ID?' she asked.

Maggie handed over the press passes and watched as the woman gave them a cursory glance.

'They're fine. Sir Brian is in conference at the moment but if you'd like to go through to the exhibition area and wait I'm sure he'll be able to find you.'

It was a large room, brightly illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the picture windows that made up an entire wall. Along both sides were a series of small pop-up trade stands populated by smartly-dressed men and women of eager demeanour, most clutching glossy flyers which they were anxious to thrust into the hands of unsuspecting passers-by.

'Brochure sir?' An attractive brunette stepped in front of them, directing her attention solely at Jimmy.

'Aye ok,' he said pleasantly. 'What's it for?'

'It's roster planning software sir. We're Heartworks, I expect you've heard of us? Our software's installed in over forty forces around the country. We're the market leader in the UK.'

'Good to know,' he said, Maggie smiling as she recognised one of his brother's favourite phrases, 'but I'm just a photographer so I'll not be buying any software any time soon. Sorry.'

He handed back the brochure with an apologetic look. It did not seem to upset the brunette, who shot him a rather too familiar smile before retreating to her stand.

'When are we due to see Pollock?' Jimmy asked.

'Five minutes. I guess that must be when the next break is. Come on, let's go and grab a coffee before the rush,' she said, pointing to a table alongside another set of double doors that presumably led into the conference room proper.

A few minutes later the doors opened and the delegates surged into the exhibition room in search of refreshment. These were the brass, as Frank disparagingly called then, and today each one of them was dressed true to type, attired in their formal uniforms with the shiny buttons and epaulettes, although they looked more silvery than brassy in Maggie's eyes. He had told them that ACC Katherine Frost would be in attendance, she of the home-made porno movies, and that they should look out for her, just for their amusement if nothing else, which she thought was a bit cruel. Nonetheless she found herself scanning the room, and as coincidence would have it, found Frost standing in the refreshment queue talking to none other than Sir Brian Pollock. Maggie nudged Jimmy in the ribs and pointed her head in their direction.

'Wonder what they're talking about,' Jimmy said, grinning. 'Maybe she's offering him a part in her next film.'

'Come on,' she said, grabbing him by the arm, 'let's go and introduce ourselves.' Assuming she could remember who she was supposed to be, that was.

Brian Pollock was not a tall man, no more than five foot seven or eight, and not much older than herself she guessed, with greying hair and a neat goatee beard. She wondered when it was decided that brains rather than physical stature should become the main attribute for a career in the force. Frank had told her that he had been one of the first to come through Strathclyde Police's fast-track graduate scheme, and there was considerable prejudice against him in the rank and file as a result, although he had phrased it rather more colourfully. It's because the guy's a complete wanker. She remembered that Katherine Frost was also a fast-track entrant, wondering if everybody in the room had followed the same route to the top. Judging from their relative youth, she guessed they had.

'Chief Constable Pollock, I'm sorry to interrupt but I guess you're working to a tight schedule. I'm Caroline Watts with the Chronicle and this is my photographer Robert. You remember we've got an appointment.'

He turned and smiled to his companion. 'Yes sorry Katherine, but I've got a date with the national press. Let's catch up later shall we?'

'Actually Robert,' Maggie said, looking at Jimmy and furrowing her brow, 'an informal shot or two in this room might be quite good before we start. Perhaps one here with your colleague, would that be ok Sir Brian?'

He shrugged and gave a smile. 'Yes, I'm sure that would be fine. What do you think Katherine? Fancy getting your face in the papers?'

Maggie caught Jimmy's eye, assuming he was thinking the same thing. Probably the last thing ACC Katherine Frost wants is to get her face or any other part of her anatomy in the papers. But she seemed more than happy to go along with it.

'Yes, sure Brian, that's ok. Just let me fix my hair first.'

Maggie smiled. No-one would call Frost an attractive woman, with plain features and a bony frame that made her uniform look ill-fitting, but everyone wanted to look their best for a photograph. She whipped a small folding brush out of her bag and quickly dragged it through her cropped hair. It didn't seem to make much difference.

Maggie saw Jimmy had succeeded in removing the SLR camera from the bag and was now holding it against his chest, staring down at the large viewfinder.

Just point and shoot, she remembered Yash telling him, and just don't forget to switch it on. She wondered if she ought to remind him.

'Yeah, that's good,' he said, not looking up, 'and don't look at the camera folks please. We'll just get a couple of natural conversational shots. Yeah, that's good... hold it... yeah, got it. Thanks