Working for Josh

By Alan Addison

A chance encounter with a young, well-dressed young man at a bus-stop immediately outside their office takes JP Associates detective agency on a journey through the high echelons of Edinburgh society. It is a journey of intrigue, lies, high finance, corruption, and murder. A journey that at times forces them to question their own motives, their ethics and at times, the existence of their own agency. Working for Josh is book five in the JP Associates Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447881636

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE.

Monday 30th March 2015

‘Do you think we should ask him if he’s alright?’

‘No, don’t be daft, you worry too much. He’s fine. It just looks as if he’s taken cold feet; probably a school-leaver starting a new job and a wee bit nervous,’ answered Bob.

‘A school-leaver in March, I don’t think so.’

Bob and Tod were standing inside their office front window, JP ASSOCIATES, PRIVATE INVESTIGATION AGENCY, in Great Junction Street, Leith. Their attention had been drawn by the behaviour of a smartly suited young man at the bus-stop. Each time a bus arrived the young man went to board but quickly changed his mind and moved to the back of the queue to await the next bus.

‘I’m going to speak to him,’ said Tod.

‘You might get your head in your hands for your trouble. Just leave the lad alone, he’ll be fine. You really are becoming quite a fusspot in your auld age.’

‘Auld age,’ replied Tod, ‘I’m only fifty-six.’

‘Aye but you’ll be fifty-seven in four days’ time. Are we going out for that meal you promised me on your last birthday, the meal that didn’t materialise?’

Paying absolutely no attention to his colleague and friend, Tod headed for the door. Bob watched as he approached the teenager. Having known Tod most of his life, he knew he had enough experience to be able to engage the youngster in conversation, but still thought it a mistake. That was until they walked into the office together.

‘Bob, this is Josh. He left Trinity Academy two weeks ago. He was well into prep for his exams when he was headhunted at the end of last year, and has just started work with an investment company a week ago. They were prepared to hire him prior to him sitting this year’s exams. Isn’t that right Josh?’ Tod continued looking at Josh and addressing Bob. ‘Gormand and Spale Private Investment Company, it’s in George Street.’

Bob recognised that his partner was trying to put the lad at ease. ‘Pleased to meet you Josh. How does it feel to be a working man now?’

He’s not lost his touch, thought Tod, straight to the point. But then that had always been the case with retired Detective Inspector Bob James.

‘I’m not sure, I’ve only been there a week.’

‘Is it going well?’

‘It was, until last Friday. I’m working for one of the directors, Mr Gormand. He took me for lunch on Friday with another director. We went to one of the most expensive hotels in town.

They spent over nine hundred pounds on lunch and there were only three of us and I wasn’t drinking. I’ve never seen food like it and the wine was over three hundred pounds a bottle. They didn’t stop making jokes about how they were worth every penny and one day I would be too. They were really nice to me.’

Tod couldn’t help but cringe at Josh’s revelations. He’d heard that this kind of thing went on in investment companies, directors riding on the backs of clients and shareholders, other people’s money being no object. But he’d never heard it at first hand before. ‘So, what’s the problem then Josh? It looked to us as if you didn’t want to get on the bus?’

‘Everything was going really well, and I was asked to stay behind after five o’clock on Friday. Mr Gormand was having drinks in the office with the other director and their secretaries and they wanted me to serve them the drinks and told me I’d be paid well for my trouble. I phoned my Mum and told her I’d be late.’

‘So, what’s the problem?’ asked Bob.

Josh thought for a moment before unbuckling his satchel. He put his hand deep into the leather bag and produced a computer memory stick. ‘This is the problem.’

‘That? But it’s only a memory stick?’

‘It was given to me when I started work and was told to save all my work on it to enable them to monitor my progress.’

‘And you didn’t save your stuff and now you’re worried they’ll find out?’ asked Bob.

‘No, it’s not that. I saved everything I’d been working on. It’s just that, well it’s the same kind of stick as my boss uses and I’m not sure how it happened but I lifted the wrong one when I left the office on Friday evening. They’d had their drinks celebration because they’d made a lot of money that day and were in a really good mood. At the end of the evening, when I was phoning taxis for them, I think my boss must have lifted my memory stick by mistake. Before I left I put what I thought was my stick in my satchel and took it home so I could go over it during the weekend. I really want to do well in my job. My Mum and Dad are so proud of me.’ Josh looked like he was about to cry.

‘It’s not that bad son,’ said Bob. ‘Just explain to your boss what happened when you go in.’

Josh handed the stick to Tod. ‘You’d better have a look at it first. I don’t think anyone was meant to see this.’

‘Only one way to find out,’ he said, walking over to the computer. Bob followed but kept his eyes on Josh. Tod stared at the computer screen as the Excel spreadsheet appeared. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at but saw one name on the list that sent a shiver up his spine. ‘Is this related to financial transactions Josh? If it is there are some exceptionally large sums of money involved, and many places mentioned which, if memory serves me well, are all tax havens. Do you know any of the twelve people mentioned on this list?’

Bob moved beside Tod, turned his attention to the screen and studied the document before Tod clicked save-to-documents and pulled the stick from the computer and handed it back to Josh.

‘Only one name, Mr Gormand. He is my boss along with Mr Spale, but he’s not on the list.’

‘Do you know what this spreadsheet is about Josh?’ asked Bob.

‘I learned about it in school. My teacher had been an accountant and he explained all about Scottish Limited Partnerships, and the possibility for tax avoidance schemes.’

Bob thought for a moment. ‘I’m surprised this stick isn’t encrypted.’

‘We only bought them last week when I started. I was sent out to buy them and maybe my boss hasn’t had time to set up encryption. He told me I should do it, but I’ve not done it yet either.’

Bob thought for a moment only. ‘Listen, I think the best thing you could do with the stick is take it back into the office and drop it under your boss’s desk. When he finds it, he’ll assume it has lain there all weekend. He’ll give you your stick back and that will be that. But you’d better get a move on, or he’ll be there before you.’

Josh suddenly brightened up. ‘I never thought of that, thank you!’ And he was off out the door.

‘Well that was sudden. Maybe an over-simplified answer to the lad’s problem. Let’s hope it works,’ said Tod.

‘Did you have a better idea?’

‘As a matter of fact, I did, but you didn’t give me time to express it.’

‘I’ve been around long enough to know how to deal with these things partner.’

‘Aye so you have Bob, so you have.’

Bob thought for a moment. ‘So, what was your bright idea?’

‘It doesn’t matter now. Josh has just jumped on the bus.’

#

Bob went back to the computer. ‘I see Stark’s name has found its way onto the list but had been scored out. Did you see that?’

‘I did but assumed it must be to do with banking.’

‘It’s been scored out on 2nd April 2013.’

‘Wasn’t that the day after he died?’

‘Murdered,’ corrected Bob.

‘Mm.’

‘You know they’re not allowed to keep this kind of information to themselves anymore? The new money laundering laws put a stop to that and the kind of figures on those spreadsheets are enough to draw the attention of the Inland Revenue. My guess is that no-one outside of that company has set eyes on this. On the other hand, could be its innocent and all above board, but I’d bet my bottom dollar that this is some sort of money laundering scam and the shareholders and CEO know nothing about it. Maybe the other directors know nothing about it either. The global money exchanges certainly look suspicious. But then what do we know? The other thing I find puzzling is the twelve names on the list. Many of them have been scored out.’

Tod came out from behind the desk. ‘Could be they decided to withdraw their investment when the going got tough? We’ve got the name of the company and could ask. Trouble is though, we’ve obtained this information illegally and Josh might lose his job if we pursue it. His boss would definitely know then that we’d seen the information.’

‘I understand your worry for Josh, but when has evidence being obtained illegally ever stopped you and your associates, may I ask?’

‘They’re your associates too you know Bob. Anyway, I’m worried about the lad and what may happen if his boss finds out.

‘Och haud yer wheesht. The lad will be just fine, trust me.’

#

By eleven o’clock that morning the two men were more than ready for a beer. They’d both taken to joining Big Jake and his son Wee Jake in the Bowling club on a Sunday, and that usually meant they were desperate for a hair of the dog on Monday mornings. Tracey Cowan, their secretary, wouldn’t be in until twelve-thirty, plenty of time to have a swift one or two and be back in the office before she appeared. She’d never be any the wiser.

#

‘Have you two been on the drink again?’

‘Just a couple of pints,’ apologised Bob. ‘You’ve a nose on you like a bloodhound.’

‘Aye right, a couple of pints?’

‘Listen,’ said Tod, trying to lighten the atmosphere, ‘We might have a new case.’

‘Might? If it’s anything like the last case, A dread tae think what the outcome might be,’ she answered. ‘Will it mean ye disappearing tae England again?’

‘You can talk’, said Bob. ‘A little bird tells me you were up to your eyes in it when we were away. I believe Auld Reekie, project for the elderly of Leith, barely escaped with its life.’

‘You might be retired Bob James, but you still have your snitches eh.’ She headed towards the kitchen to put the kettle on. ‘There are mints in the top drawer of ma desk.’

Returning with two steaming mugs of coffee for her bosses, she took a seat at the coffee table. ‘Well, what’s the case?’

‘Have you no doughnuts to go with those?’ asked Bob.

‘Aye, they’re in ma bag.’

Once the others were seated around the coffee table and Tracey had her notepad from her handbag and on her lap, Tod got to the point. ‘It’s not so much a case, more a piece of information we received from a young man earlier this morning. We may want to consider it carefully before deciding whether to take it on. He let us see a memory stick with what appears to be incriminating evidence relating to possible money laundering taking place within an investment company in George Street. If you check your Excel files, you’ll see the spreadsheet we took from the stick. It’s filed under Laundry Services.’

Tracey stood and moved behind her desk. She hit the space bar on her keyboard, bringing up the spreadsheets. She went quiet as she stared at the screen.

‘Do you know much about financial record keeping?’ asked Bob.

‘Only what I learned in college and what I do in here, and that isn’t much, to say the least.’

‘All right, no need to be smart.’

‘A ken enough tae know that what A’m looking at here looks dodgy tae me.’

‘That’s what we thought,’ said Tod.

Tracey had studied Excel at college so had no problem navigating her way around the worksheets. After some time she looked up. ‘A think A ken what’s needed here.’

‘What’s that, a Philadelphia lawyer?’ asked Tod.

‘No, better than that. What we need is Rebecca. We’re talking big money here, very big money. More money that A’ve ever imagined, never mind seen. Rebecca is the only person we know who comes close to dealing with money on this scale. She’ll have contacts in the money world too. There’s no point in kidding ourselves that we can solve this without her, especially since Mr James here took it upon himself to borrow a police warrant card illegally and is no longer flavour of the month with DI Laing, or Police Scotland for that matter.’

‘Getting back to recent cases,’ stammered Bob, ‘was Harry involved in your recent case with Auld Reekie? No don’t bother to answer that. As far as Becc…Rebecca is concerned I don’t think she is in the right frame of mind to be involved in our work at present.’

‘It might be just what she needs,’ said Tod.

‘Only one way to find out,’ added Tracey, ‘ask her.’

CHAPTER TWO.

Tuesday 31st March

It was a sunny enough morning, though still cold for the time of year, as Bob James headed in his Volvo, early as ever, to Rebecca’s. He’d hardly been away from the place since they’d returned to Edinburgh from Cambridge and their last big case, a case which had left both Rebecca and her daughter Sophie traumatised, to say the least.

Sophie was now staying at her Mum’s permanently, well as permanent as it gets with late teenagers. The kidnapping was, as far as the Suffolk Police were concerned, the brainchild of Albert Broch, the same Albert Broch who’d killed Heinz Fast and the old skipper Tommy Whyard. Given another minute young Albert might have brought about the death of them all, or would have, had it not been for an unknown assassin putting an end to his plans.

In some strange way Bob felt sorry for the boy. He’d been well brought up, by all accounts, but was under the spell of his Aunt Jane Keen, alias Athena. It was Tod, and Professor Kirkland who’d explained to Bob just how powerful her hold over others could be. Mark le Mot, JP Associates’ young researcher and PhD student re-emphasised just how persuasive Aunt Jane could be, having encountered her abilities first-hand.

But Bob’s sympathy for the boy only stretched so far, particularly when it came to Rebecca and Sophie and as he drove the road between Silverknowes Golf Course and Lauriston Farm it was his growing feelings for them that caused him to whisper hell mend him under his breath. His next thought was Tracey and her Christian faith, causing him to almost apologise to her in absentia for his lack of Godly forgiveness.

Prior to their experience in Suffolk, Rebecca’s heavily draped curtains would have been wide open at this time in the morning. But this morning everything remained closed and there was no sign of life. He rang the bell and waited. It was Sophie who answered. ‘Hello Bobby.’

‘It’s a fine morning Sophie. I wondered if you and your Mum fancied a wee walk along Cramond. The daffodils are out now.’

‘And the snowdrops well and truly buried.’

Sophie’s reference to the snowdrops was a reminder to Bob of that day in the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh when she’s divulged to him that her father had been sexually abusing her, a secret that he had kept from Rebecca on the wishes of Sophie until that fateful day in the pillbox by the River Lark in Suffolk, when Albert took it upon himself to announce her experience, not only at the hands of her father, but also his friends.

‘Well and truly buried Sophie. Is your Mum up and about?’

‘She’s up, though I’m not sure if about is the best description. She is through in the conservatory.’ Sophie stepped aside to let Bob pass.

When he walked into the large garden room, he saw immediately that Sophie was right about Rebecca being about. She was sitting, as ever, in what had become her usual morning pose, enveloped in a wicker armchair with her feet curled up under her and staring out of the window to the garden. That garden, which had once been her pride and joy, now looked like something from an inner-city back green, albeit without the broken glass.

The sight of her sitting in that chair was all too familiar to Bob and he struggled to find some word that could break her from her reveries. He walked over to the glass and tried to determine what it was she was looking at. The grass around the fountain, the one depicting Diana the Huntress, was over a foot long and the bird bath was devoid of life. Bob still didn’t know if Rebecca had worked out why her husband had put such an honour to his mentor Jane Keen slap bang in the middle of the lawn. He was thinking that maybe it was time he asked her, when his mobile pinged. It was Tod.

‘Have you mentioned the information we received yesterday to Rebecca yet? Tracey was right, we really need her help on this one and it might just be what she needs to get her off that chair?’ It certainly would be when she saw the name of her deceased husband on the list, Tod thought as he messaged his friend.

Bob had forgotten he’d told Tod about Rebecca trapping herself in that chair. ‘I’m here now and just about to raise the subject.’

‘No sign of the young man at the bus-stop this morning. Looks like your advice must have worked. Either that or he’s lost his job.’

Bob merely replied – ‘Aye Right’ before switching off his phone and