No matter how I write this column – no matter how hard I try – I won’t do justice to Billy Boyle, who died on Sunday.
I’d wager I don’t have to explain who Billy – or Mr Boyle as I called him for at least the first year of knowing him – was, to the vast majority of Dundonians reading this.
For he was arguably the most famous solicitor from Dundee.
I say arguably because there are many notable solicitors and even an advocate appointed King’s Counsel, also a friend of Billy’s, who come from Dundee.
But they would all concede that there was no one quite like Billy Boyle: trailblazer in criminal law, mischief maker and the very best of company.
And Billy’s fame in Dundee and beyond was only partly to do with his work.
In an era before the internet and instant fame, Billy was a bona fide celebrity in Dundee. Walking down Commercial Street or into a bar with him was like chaperoning a Hollywood star.
Cries of “it’s Billy Boyle” and “thanks for getting me off Billy” came from everywhere.
He seemed to have defended half of Dundee.
I first met him when, a year into my law degree aged 19, he agreed to give me work experience at Boyle Chambers, Albert Square.
In retrospect, I was a bit cocky. Also in retrospect, this was an act to mask the fact I was terrified.
I was the first person in my family to go to university but it meant nothing if I didn’t get a job. I wanted to be a criminal lawyer and this felt like the big time.
Billy soon put paid to my cockiness by giving me my first job… cleaning his office windows, which were double height and faced onto the busy road. He got someone to give me a bucket of water and a sponge.
Thinking about it now, I’d imagine he was creasing himself behind his massive desk.
He invited me out for dinner with some solicitors in his firm. Afterwards he remarked he would need to take out a new mortgage to afford to pay for the red wine I could consume.
Martel Maxwell and Billy Boyle became firm friends
And that was it, friends for the decades to come.
He was a romantic – often telling the tale of how he and his wife Lynda got together.
Theirs was a true love story he made sound like Romeo and Juliet.
He loved his children – my friend Gordon who was a school pal – and Katie, John and Claire with all his heart. I also remember the adoration he had for his mother, who had long since died.
Billy, real name William, was incredibly well-read, reciting classic poetry in between starter and main at many a Dundee eatery.
And that laugh – like a schoolboy chuckling – his voice getting higher and squeakier the funnier he found his own story. Raconteurs like Billy are few and far between.
He loved the law in a way I could only dream of, reciting case law and legal philosophy as easily as conversation. In his prime, no one could come close to his razor-sharp brain or wit in court – an opinion I heard from many solicitors over the years.
He had court rooms in stitches – and before you knew it, his client had been found not guilty and was free to leave the court – no matter how hopeless his case had been. He was, what the sheriffs might call, ‘a character’.
From petty shoplifters to high-profile cases that made headlines around the world, Billy defended the masses.
He told me he had been born with a club foot. Many others told me he had been a brilliant footballer in his youth.
I have so many stories about this man.
As his good friend – esteemed journalist Graham Ogilvy (also once kind enough to give me work experience) – said in his Courier tribute, Mr Boyle’s stories often seemed unbelievable but transpired to be true.
He wasn’t always easy but mavericks rarely are.
From working class, Catholic, roots he rose to greatness and made his family proud in the 70s, an era when going to university from his background – not least to study law – was almost unheard of.
Taxi drivers (he had an account) sheriffs, restauranteurs, criminals, staff, friends and of course family – I can only imagine the stories they all have about Mr Boyle. He will be sorely missed by many. His passing feels like the end of an era.
My thoughts are with his wife Lynda, his children Gordon, Katie, John and Claire, his grandchildren and sisters.
