Middle Hebrides

II - Now, Thursday

Edinburgh

Angus entered the cold office. Whoever she chose as her lawyer, mother stuck to her usual grandeur when selecting them.

He sat in an oversized leather armchair and tapped fingers. The room was as lush as if its owner decided to raid a museum - XVII century sculptures standing under paintings, framed so heavily, it must have been sets of nails rather than one each suspending them under decorated walls. Even the mahogany desk was encrusted with ivory.

After a while, the door opened, allowing a single gust of warm air to swirl around Angus' legs. The lawyer walked in silently - a woman maybe in her 60s, dressed in black with silver jewelry discreetly sparkling from her hands and breast. The brooch was a lily, made so intricately modern jewellers would damage triple as much of resource before crafting something even remotely similar.

The woman extended her arm, forcing Angus to stand up and, without even thinking, kiss the hand.

'Mr Mackinnon, yes?' heavy Glaswegian accent hit him the same moment perfume did. Musky and spicy, no flowers whatsoever. She seemed to be more of a predator than a lawyer. Or, technically, one didn't exclude another; everything depended on the perspective. 'Ava Frost. My condolences. I represent your late mother's business.'

Of course, mum. You and your sense of humor. The coldest person he'd ever known chose someone named Frost to represent her.

'How long have you worked for my mother?'

Blue eyes looked down at him. Ava sat behind the desk and pulled out a large folder from one of the drawers.

'Over twenty years. It's been a fruitful cooperation and I can only hope we will keep in touch,' she put on glasses, then opened the file.

'Now, most of the assets your mother had has already been rewritten to the respective members of the family...'

'Excuse me but shouldn't the rest of them arrive here?'

'We're efficient, Mr Mackinnon...'

'Angus will be just fine.'

'Angus, then. You were the only person the police managed to convince to arrive here. The rest couldn't have been located or simply told the representatives to...'

'Fuck off?'

For a split second, Ava's lips turned into a thin red line.

'Yes, Angus. More or less.'

'My family's always been rather direct. And, given how long you've worked for my mother, I presume you noticed there were no extra seats at the Christmas table.'

'Nevertheless, here's the deed,' Ava handed over a single piece of paper. Angus glanced at the document and snorted. Ironic.

'Is that it?'

'Yes, you're the new owner of the Snow White club. There's also a house in Morningside but I believe this should be less of a hurdle. After all, it's barely comparable to the business you have to tend to. We already have our representative waiting for you along with the head clerk to run you through...'

'Excuse me,' Angus interrupted her laughing. 'I understand you are aware of what was in Snow White?'

Ava lowered her glasses, sending him a careful, cold look.

'A gentlemen's club, of course. High-profile.'

She wasn't stupid. That was a veiled warning. Whatever this brothel of hers was supposed to be, officially it was nothing more than an expensive diner with too many lounges and hostesses. As far as he could recall, the front of house was all-male to avoid any suspicions, mixed like a pack of Quality Street further and further. Mother could cater to all needs with caviar but she also ensured this caviar was served wherever and in whatever position the customers fancied. And, of course, such endeavour required an army of lawyers ready to diffuse any bomb before any perpetrator would even find its ignition point.