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‘What the hell’s going on?’

Rachel Firth tried hard to keep her voice down as she clamped the phone to her ear, aware that her friends were enjoying their cocktails just a few feet away, but her anxiety, her fury, was making this extremely difficult.

The young company director had spent most of the day trying to contact Leyla, outraged at being accused of breaking the law.

She was intent on letting her contractor feel the weight of her displeasure.

‘I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,’ Leyla replied calmly.

‘Well, she seemed pretty convinced,’ Firth rasped, flicking a strand of blonde hair from her face irritably.

‘She told me in no uncertain terms that I was employing illegal workers at South Hants hospital and that they were being transported there regularly in one of Regus’ vans.

She had the registration number, a description of the driver … ’

There was a brief silence whilst this landed, but when her associate responded, her tone was the same as it always was – reassuring, condescending, even a little maternal.

‘Look, try not to worry, Rachel. I’m sure this can all be smoothed over. No need for it to impact you, or us for that matter. It’s all under control.’

‘It doesn’t feel like that from where I’m sitting,’ Firth barked back.

‘She was in my apartment, for God’s sake.

Bad enough that she aired her accusations in front of the lobby guy, but what if I’d had friends or family with me?

She wouldn’t have held back, I can assure you, which would have put me in a very awkward position.

I care about my reputation. I’ve spent years fostering it with the local council, business leaders, politicians – I can’t have my good name questioned, my business tarnished. I cannot and I will not.’

‘You’re making that abundantly clear,’ came the reply, a hint of irritation creeping into Leyla’s tone. ‘But, like I said, I’ll deal with it.’

‘Is she right? Are we … are you employing illegal workers at the hospital?’

There was a brief pause, then:

‘Well, it’s fair to say that not all of them have the official ID and work accreditation one might ideally hope for—’

‘Jesus Christ, that was never part of the deal!’ Firth exploded. ‘You explicitly told me that everything would be above board.’

‘And in an ideal world it would be. But you know how hard it is to get British workers to do these kinds of jobs and with legal migration restricted, now you have to be creative if you want to survive.’

‘Creative? Is that what you’re calling it?’

‘It really doesn’t matter how you dress it up. It’s the reality. I don’t like it any more than you do.’

‘Like hell you don’t! How much are you skimming off? How much actually makes its way to your workforce? You’re taking us for a ride, a bloody ride. Well, I won’t have it. I won’t be scammed.’

What had she been expecting? A retreat? An apology? Leyla’s response when it came was acerbic and withering.

‘Oh, wake up, Rachel. What do you think this is? How on earth do you think we can charge you fifty per cent less than our rivals? How do you think you get these specialist services so cheap?’

Rachel Firth said nothing, stunned by the ferocity of the attack. She was supposed to be the boss, the one in charge, but it didn’t feel that way.

‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know that we’d have to cut corners, that we’d have to find inventive ways of fulfilling the brief.

You knew, and what’s more, you were happy about it.

I didn’t see you complaining when your profits soared on the back of the hard graft and ingenuity of entrepreneurs like me.

You’re only in that fancy apartment because you were happy to turn a blind eye to what we do on your behalf. You’d do well to remember that.’

Now the contractor’s tone had a distinctly menacing edge, one which Firth found distinctly unnerving.

‘Alright, alright, there’s no need to fly off the handle,’ she backtracked quickly. ‘But we do need to remedy the situation fast. Get rid of the van and sort out your workforce. We can’t have illegals working at the hospital.’

‘No can do, I’m afraid.’

‘I’m not asking, I’m telling ,’ Firth continued. ‘I don’t want them at the hospital.’

‘Then the job won’t get done. And you’ll have to explain to the council, to the hospital management, why you’re reneging on your contract. Won’t do much for your precious reputation, especially if the local press were to pick up on your difficulties.’

The threat was clear as day this time, leaving her boxed into a corner.

‘Well, what would you suggest then?’ she demanded. ‘I can’t have this copper sniffing around me or Regus.’

‘I’d suggest you let me deal with this,’ came the cool response. ‘My own way.’

The executive hesitated. She didn’t like the sound of that at all, but what choice did she have?

‘What was the copper’s name?’ Leyla demanded, her voice laced with menace.

Once more, Firth hesitated, fearful of what she was getting herself into, before reluctantly replying:

‘Detective Inspector Helen Grace.’