Chapter 16

“So, at the risk of sounding vulgar, what’s it worth?”

March gave way to April and the law firm’s financial year-end, which kept Will and the other lawyers in the Westmouth offices of Jenkins, McCall and Smith very busy. The law firm was the twenty-sixth largest in the country and had offices throughout the south of England and in the major northern cities. It was owned and operated by its ever-expanding number of partners.

Will had been a partner in the firm for eight years. He’d started his law training at the head office on the South Bank of the Thames and had worked in three of the firm’s six London offices before accepting a partnership position in Westmouth. The move to Westmouth had been the straw that broke the back of his marriage, but it wasn’t a move he regretted. The only thing he missed about being married was seeing his daughter every day.

Each year, JMS appointed at least one new partner. The managing partners of each office were invited to put forward one of their senior associates for partnership consideration. Some years there were more candidates than others and some years more partnerships were offered than others.

Westmouth hadn’t put a candidate forward for the last four years, but Will was certain that this year they would. He’d been pushing Maurice Phillips, his senior partner at Westmouth, to put Jeremy forward for the previous two years, but Maurice had said he didn’t think he was ready. However, Maurice was a tired old man and Will knew he was seriously considering retirement. And he wouldn’t want to retire before showing the other two hundred partners in the firm that he’d uncovered a real talent in his ‘backwater province’.

That was how Westmouth was seen by the other offices, particularly the London offices. Most of the London lawyers couldn’t understand why anyone would want to work in Westmouth. Live there, yes, maybe. But surely the commute into London would earn a good lawyer more fees than the small coastal town full of students and old people.

The old people were part of the attraction for Will, of course. He made most of his fees from them and found they were more relaxed and less likely to dispute his invoices than they had been in the capital.

Perhaps it was the sea air.

Maurice and Will met with the office manager and the accounts manager once a week. It was, in theory, to discuss the running of the office and make key decisions. But in reality, it was to keep Maurice informed of what was going on.

“Is there anything else?” Maurice asked after forty minutes.

“Not from me,” said Carole, the office manager.

“Nor me,” said the accounts manager, Terry.

“Will?”

Will shook his head.

“Good. Well, before we finish I have one more thing. The deadline for partnership candidates is the end of this week.”

The other three around the table nodded, having guessed what was coming.

“I think it’s about time we put someone forward. After all, it’s been ... How long?”

“Four years,” said Terry.

“Quite. So, I was thinking of the young Taggart fellow. What do you think?”

Will looked from Carole to Terry and smiled. “Good choice, Maurice. I think he’s ready.”

“Yes. Me too. Best damn company lawyer I’ve seen in a long time. Nearly as good as me, what?”

The other three laughed dutifully.

“Well, I’ll contact head office and put things in motion. Could you let him know, Will? You’re friendly with him, aren’t you? Now, I’ll be out for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. See you all on Thursday.”

Will went back to his office and accepted a mug of coffee from Dot before checking his voice mail. There was a message from Andy Rogers. Will pulled up Hammersmith’s number from the database and dialled.

“Andy, what can I do for you?”

“Will. Good to hear from you. I just wanted to let you know that we have a valuation for you on the items we took from the McCarthy house.”

“Good. Can you e-mail it over?”