Page 100 of The Cottage in the Highlands

I delved into my bag again and plucked out a copy of the email exchanges between me and the dermatologist, concerning the ingredients and quality of Lulu’s beauty range.

I handed the papers across the desk to Seth Gordon. His eyes scanned the contents. “Where the hell did you get this?”

“Let’s just say it helps to be the beauty writer on a big magazine.”

Seth Gordon’s face flooded with temper as he read the comments from Susie Calderwood, the dermatologist.

“…these products do not contain environmentally friendly ingredients as claimed. They possess micro-plastic granules which can be very harmful to marine life, as well as acting as an aggressive and abrasive exfoliant against the skin. I would not hesitate in advising consumers not to purchase these products from either an ethical or a healthcare standpoint.”

I gestured to the emails as Seth Green rifled through each of them in turn, grinding his teeth.

“The packaging, the ingredients being used, the so-called ethical message… it’s all lies. Your lies.”

He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

“You made Lulu think she was attributing her name to a revolutionary range, whereas you’ve been using sub-standard plastic packaging and cheap ingredients.”

Seth Gordon threw the email printouts across his desk, sending them spilling everywhere. “You’re making a story out of nothing. You have nothing to corroborate this.”

It was then that my phone pinged with a text message from Kerry.

Just spoken to Rick Askew. He caved when I explained the evidence we’ve collated. I think he’s got the wind up about all of this. He’s blaming Seth Gordon for being the mastermind behind it all. He says: “I apologise unreservedly for being so naïve as to become involved in what has transpired to be such a fraudulent state of affairs. Showbiz agent Seth Gordon led me to believe that the Stardust packaging and products were revolutionary. If I had learnt of the deception I was becoming embroiled in, I would never have committed my PR services to the campaign…”

Then my phone let out another indignant ping. It was another message from Kerry. This time, she was talking about Simone Wales.

Have managed to locate Simone on holiday in the Algarve. She left Lulu’s management company under a cloud a few months back, after discovering that money was being syphoned off from Lulu to Seth Gordon’s private accounts. She was going to go to the police, but Gordon threatened her and her family and she was terrified to take it any further.

I started to read Rick Askew’s statement aloud, but Seth Gordon cut me off with an infuriated bark. “He knew what he was getting involved in, the sneaky bastard! The pound signs were rattling his eyes from the word go.”

I could feel my eyebrows rising. “So, you admit that you knew that the Stardust range wasn’t what it was claiming to be?”

He gave his tie an ineffectual flap against his shirt, but said nothing.

“Do I take your silence to mean a yes?”

His hot light-brown eyes flashed.

“Are you prepared to give me a full account of what actually happened, Mr Gordon?”

His frozen gaze locked with mine. “We can talk properly out by reception.” His lips flickered into a tight smile. “I’ve just had a new Jura S8 coffee machine installed.”

I examined his face across the desk. An uneasy sense of foreboding crawled over me. “What’s wrong with talking in here?”

Seth Gordon made a casual shrug of his bony shoulders. “I could murder a first-rate cappuccino.”

The way his lips rolled around the word murder made my heart batter harder against my rib cage. Oh, this was ridiculous! I was being ridiculous. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to try anything. This was just his pathetic way of trying to frighten me; psyche me out. It was all about intimidation with people like him.

“Ready for a delicious coffee then, Ms Baxter?”

I swallowed back a growing sense of trepidation again. “Yes. All right. Thank you.”

He jumped up from behind his desk and pulled open his office door. “Ladies first.”

My hand reached for the strap of my shoulder bag and gripped it tighter. The air was still and empty in the silent expanse of the reception area.

“Let’s discuss this further down the corridor,” he suggested, indicating to an alcove on the right. Talk about smooth.

I started to follow him and then the next few moments morphed into a terrifying blur.