‘Daryl Winston, pleased to meet you.’
The man who had called her after she’d been rear-ended.
She pointedly ignored the hand by swapping the folder she was carrying to her right hand.
There was little doubt in her mind that either he or someone in this building had arranged both her car accident and the ransacking of her house. She was shaking no one’s hand.
‘Please come through.’
She followed him into a short corridor with glass partitions separating rooms of various sizes.
He stepped into the first and the smallest.
The room followed the theme from the reception, with posters lit by warm wall lights.
A round table was surrounded by four chairs.
He took a seat. She followed and laid her folder on the desk.
‘You have something to show me?’
There was no pretence about which one of their clients her visit was in relation to.
‘I do indeed,’ she said, laying a hand on the folder. She met his enquiring gaze.
‘I didn’t realise that the Korma Crisp was one of yours,’ she said, referring to the poster that had caught her attention in the reception.
He frowned slightly, fully aware she was not here to discuss a crisp campaign.
‘It was disgusting,’ Frost said. ‘I tried them and they were foul.’
He shrugged as though that detail was unimportant.
‘Our campaign increased their market share by seven per cent, which in that particular industry is—’
‘But it was quite a basic strategy, wasn’t it? You simply blitzed advertising channels, telling people how tasty they were. You aimed your posters, billboards, social media, radio and TV at mid-teens who always want to be cool by trying the next new thing.’
‘That target market is quite easily persuaded.’
‘And how about the target market for Nick Morley? Are they as easily manipulated if you shout loud enough and for long enough that he’s a good person? Exactly the same strategy. Are you hoping for as dramatic a turnaround in that same strategy applied to a murder case?’
He tapped his fingers lightly on the table and waited.
‘Because this isn’t about market share or sales figures or projections. This is about a man who killed his wife.’
‘He is innocent until proven guilty, Ms Frost, as you—’
‘And he will be proven guilty, Mr Winston, despite your attempts to steamroll anyone who gets in your way.’
He was unperturbed by her words and remained cool.
‘I’m not sure what you’re accusing us of, Ms Frost, but we were retained by Mr Morley and his legal team for image management alone. We feel that the campaign has been largely successful and that Mr Morley’s reputation had been suitably restored to ensure he receives a fair trial when—’
‘Have you read the reports or seen the injuries?’
‘We don’t need to. We understand that Mrs Morley was a clumsy individual who never once implicated her husband in the—’
‘Open the file, Mr Winston,’ she said, pushing it towards him.