Free The Devil in Disguise by Martin Edwards

people were in awe of him. But he didn’t court popularity. Or ever compromise on his principles.’
    A silence followed and Harry remembered his last conversation with Luke Dessaur. Luke had believed that one of his fellow trustees was deceiving him, perhaps even committing a crime. Surely such knowledge would not cause him to take his own life?
    â€˜The last time I saw him...’ he began.
    She turned towards him. ‘Yes?’
    â€˜He did seem... to have something on his mind.’ Even as he uttered the words, he realised how lame they sounded. He had been about to confide in her, but under her penetrating gaze he’d found himself faltering. It was inconceivable that Frances was the person Luke thought had been deceiving him - wasn’t it? - but just as it had during their meeting at the Museum, something made him hold his tongue. Perhaps it was nothing more than a lawyer’s inbred caution.
    â€˜I told you yesterday, he’s seemed afraid recently. But - why?’ There was a note of urgency in her voice, as if she sensed that he knew more than he was yet willing to reveal. He cursed himself for raising the subject on impulse.
    Having abandoned candour, he had no choice but to obfuscate. At least legal training came in handy sometimes. ‘I suppose none of us can tell what would drive a man to the depths of despair.’
    Yet the thought slid into his mind that perhaps it was not a question of despair at all. A man of integrity would make enemies - it was inevitable. And a man unwilling to compromise on personal standards might be a danger not only to himself, but also to others.
    ***
    After saying goodbye to Frances, he headed along the waterfront towards Empire Dock. The Liverpool Legal Group often hired a room there for its meetings. Harry lived in the same complex, in one of the apartments that had been carved out of the old warehouse. He sometimes had to take care not to be spotted by professional colleagues when he was on his way home; he had no intention of spending his evening talking with other solicitors and barristers about their tribulations as well as their trials.
    Thinking about Kim Lawrence distracted him from speculating about the death of Luke Dessaur. Why had she invited him to the Legal Group AGM, of all things? Kim was a sole practitioner, a lawyer with crusading zeal who specialised in family and criminal law. In Liverpool, there was no shortage of work in either discipline. She had little time for the establishment, which made her attendance at Empire Dock tonight all the more curious. He sighed. Compared to Kim, his wife Liz had been an open book. He knew he must be patient, but sometimes he despaired of ever being able to understand the way Kim thought, let alone to try to read her mind.
    As he walked along the riverside pathway, he became aware of an emptiness in his stomach. Surely he was not nervous? It made no sense: he had nothing to fear from the hacks of the Legal Group. And he should be looking forward to the chance to see Kim. The wind whipped against his cheeks as he mulled it over. There had been something strange in the way she had spoken on the telephone. Was it possible that she had met someone else?
    He was the last to arrive. Unpunctuality was one of his vices. It derived, he supposed, from a pathological fear of boredom, of arriving too early and having nothing to do. It seemed better to turn up just in time, but in practice he always left things to the last minute and found himself panicking about whether he would ever make his appointment. He always regretted it and kept vowing to mend his ways: one more resolution he never kept.
    The penalty on this occasion was that he had lost his chance to sit next to Kim. She was always prompt and he noticed her blonde head at the front, facing the raised dais on which the Group’s officers were arrayed. If she had tried to keep a seat free for him, there was no sign of it. He found a place in the