What should we do?” Malcolm asked, wringing his hands. Rex suppressed a sigh, realizing that Malcolm, of his own volition, would not open the door to the visitor. “I’ll get it and make my excuses for you.” “Say I’m in the shower. Don’t let him in.” Rex strode to the front door and swung it open. Eye to eye with him stood the biker, his tall frame lean and muscular, and clad in supple black leather. He wore an unbuckled helmet covered in stickers and sported a greying blonde beard that outdid Rex’s in sheer volume. “You the barrister from Edinburgh?” the man boomed. “Guilty as charged.” “Bill Little.” Hence the ironic nickname, Rex thought; though Big Bill’s actual size would have been enough to merit it. “What can I do for you, Mr. Little?” Rex guessed Danny had given his uncle his business card, but he didn’t suppose this was a purely friendly visit.
