“Jesus.” Vicks seems genuinely shell-shocked. She’s sagged back against her chair. “Ed.”
“Who else?” Sam seems absolutely wired by this discovery. “Vicks, this isn’t just an orchestrated plan, it’s a bloody three-movement symphony. Nick is smeared. Bruce axes him because he’s a pusillanimous asshole. The board needs another CEO, quick. Ed kindly announces he’ll drop his lawsuit and step back in to save the day; Justin’s nest is feathered.”
“They’d really go to all that trouble?” says Vicks skeptically.
Sam’s mouth twists into a half smile. “Vicks, do you have any idea quite how much Ed loathes Nick? Some hacker was paid good money to change that memo and remove the old one from the system. I reckon Ed would spend a hundred grand to ruin Nick’s reputation. Two hundred, even.”
Vicks’s face twists with distaste.
“This would never happen if the company was run by women,” she says at last. “Never. Bloody macho … twats.” She gets to her feet and heads over to the window, staring out at the traffic, her arms hunched around her body.
“The question is: Who made this happen? Who actually executed it?” Sam is sitting on his desk, tapping his pen against his knuckles in an urgent drumbeat, his face taut with concentration. “Scottie. Who’s that? Someone Scottish?”
“He didn’t actually sound Scottish,” I volunteer. “Maybe his nickname’s a joke?”
Sam suddenly focuses on me, the light dawning on his face. “That’s it. Of course. Poppy, would you know his voice again if you heard it?”
“Sam!” Vicks interrupts sharply before I can answer. “No way. You can’t be serious.”
“Vicks, would you step out of denial for one second ?” Sam rises to his feet, erupting in fury. “The faked memo wasn’t an accident. The leak to ITN wasn’t an accident. This is happening. Someone did this to Nick. This isn’t just a matter of hushing up a little bit of embarrassing”—He gropes for a moment—“I don’t know, Facebook activity. It’s a smear. It’s fraud. ”
“It’s a theory. ” She squares up to him. “Nothing more, Sam. A few words on a fucking Lion King program.”
I feel a bit hurt. It’s not my fault all I had with me was a Lion King program.
“We need to identify this guy Scottie.” Sam turns to me. “Would you know his voice if you heard it again?”
“Yes,” I say, a little nervous at his intensity.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes!”
“Right. Well, let’s do it. Let’s go and find him.”
“Sam, stop right now!” Vicks sounds furious. “You’re insane! What are you going to do, get her to listen to every staff member talk till she hears that voice?”
“Why not?” says Sam mutinously.
“Because it’s the most ridiculous fucking idea I’ve ever heard!” Vicks explodes. “That’s why not!”
Sam regards her steadily, then turns to me. “Come on, Poppy. We’ll trawl the building.”
Vicks is shaking her head. “And if she does recognize his voice? Then what? Citizen’s arrest?”
“Then it’ll be a start,” says Sam. “Ready, Poppy?”
“Poppy.” Vicks comes over and faces me head-on. Her cheeks are pink and she’s breathing hard. “I have no idea who you are. But you don’t have to listen to Sam. You don’t have to do this. You owe him nothing. This is all nothing to do with you.”
“She doesn’t mind,” says Sam. “Do you, Poppy?”
Vicks ignores him. “Poppy, I strongly advise you to leave. Now.”
“That’s not the kind of girl Poppy is,” says Sam with a scowl. “She doesn’t bail out on people. Do you?” He meets my eyes, and his gaze is so unexpectedly warm, I feel an inward glow.
I turn to Vicks. “You’re wrong. I do owe Sam one. And Sir Nicholas is a potential patient at my physio practice, actually. So he is something to do with me too.”
I quite liked dropping that in, although I bet Sir Nicholas never does make it down to Balham.
“And anyway,” I continue, lifting my chin nobly, “ whoever it was, whether I knew them or not, if I could help in some way, I would. I mean, if you can help, you have to help. Don’t you think?”
Vicks stares at me for a moment, as though trying to work me out—then gives a strange, wry smile.
“OK. Well, you got me. I can’t argue against that.”