A Place Of Safety Read online

  Alexia stopped in her tracks and pressed rewind.

  ‘That you’re representing the girl who murdered Charlie.’

  How had she missed it the first time?

  She sat back in her chair, trying to absorb what this meant. The solicitor in the case was a parent at the dead kid’s school…This was the stuff that journalistic wet dreams were made of.

  She tried to recall the woman who’d been slapped. The first thing that sprang to mind were those bloody footless tights. But what else? Auburn hair, creamy skin.

  She went back to the tape.

  Mrs Boden was on a roll, her speech grandiose. It was real ‘them and us’ garbage, the type of noise all over the racist sites.

  ‘I think you should leave.’

  Then a pause, some scrabbling as her victim tried to hobble out of the pew.

  ‘Lilly Valentine, is this a joke?’

  Alexia punched the air.

  ‘What you got, Posh?’ came Steve’s voice

  ‘Gold dust,’ said Alexia. ‘Fucking gold dust.’

  ‘What is Luton Crime Court?’ asked Anna, trotting after Lilly.

  Lilly heaved her files and bag across the car park, her robe thrown over her shoulder. ‘Crown Court. It’s the place where your case will be heard.’

  Anna’s eyes shot open. ‘Today?’

  Lilly balanced everything on the roof of the Mini and fished in her coat pocket for her keys. ‘No, today’s just for timetabling the case and ironing out any problems.’

  Anna nodded, but Lilly could see she was both bewildered and frightened.

  ‘It’s nothing to worry about.’ Lilly’s tone was soothing. ‘Trust me.’

  ‘You’ll be with me all the time?’ asked Anna.

  Lilly thought about how much time she might have to spend with the prosecution or in chambers with the judge. ‘Let’s collect Milo.’

  ‘I’d forgotten how much I hate this place.’

  Kerry Thomson looked up at the barrister, still muttering to himself over the papers. God, he was gorgeous. All doe eyes and olive skin. When she’d been told he was taking on the Duraku case she’d dashed out to Evans to buy a new skirt. The elastic chafed around her middle but she thought it looked nice. Well, quite nice. At least it wasn’t summer when everything was floaty and short sleeved. She ran her thumb under the waistband. There was already a welt.

  ‘It’s better than the Youth Court,’ she said. ‘Which is where I spend most of my time.’

  He looked up at her and smiled. ‘Lord help you.’

  Kerry nearly peed her pants.

  ‘I thought you only took on defence work,’ she said, hoping he’d be impressed that she knew something about him.

  He shrugged. ‘I do, or I did, until the powers-that-be pointed out that if I want to take silk I need to broaden my appeal.’

  Kerry couldn’t imagine anything more appealing than the man himself right now.

  Jez fingered the pages of his brief and wished to God this was someone else’s case. Late last night he’d considered handing it back. It was too late. At this stage any decent barrister to pick it up and run. Most would be champing at the bit.

  Then he remembered the call he’d received the day before from the cocky new clerk who refused to wear a tie.

  ‘Mr Churchill wants to see you.’

  Jez’s interest was piqued to be summoned by his head of chambers but he wasn’t about to show that to the teenaged little oik on the phone.

  ‘Tell him I’ll pop in later.’

  The clerk let out a snigger and Jez imagined him running his hand around his open collar. ‘To be honest, mate, I think it would be in your interest to get yourself up there now.’

  Jez fought back the urge to tell him to fuck off.

  ‘Like I said, I’ll see Ronald when I’ve got a second.’

  He put down the phone before he said something he’d regret later, then raced upstairs to Ronald.

  Ronald’s office was the best in the building and it stretched across the entire top floor with huge windows looking out on to Embankment.

  The boss himself leaned back in his chair and smiled. ‘How the devil are you, my boy?’ asked Ronald. ‘Busy?’

  ‘Certainly can’t complain,’ said Jez and took the seat opposite.

  Ronald leaned over the table conspiratorially and Jez could smell whisky on his breath. ‘I wonder if you could do me a little favour.’

  Jez carved a smile across his face. ‘Anything for you.’

  Ronald nodded but said nothing further.

  Jez sighed inwardly, he knew better than to hurry him. This was one of the greatest trial lawyers in the country and he lived to stretch the tension.

  At last Ronald pushed a brief towards him. No doubt some relative had been nicked for drink driving and needed a decent barrister on the cheap.

  Jez opened the pink string and laid it flat.

  Regina v Duraku. He scanned the list of enclosures and saw the police papers.

  ‘This is a prosecution case,’ said Jez.

  ‘It is,’ said Ronald.

  ‘I don’t prosecute, Ron, you know that.’

  Ronald winked. ‘It’s a murder. High profile. Done deal.’

  ‘Which is great,’ said Jez, ‘but I don’t prosecute.’

  ‘Listen, Jez,’ Ronald put his full weight on his forearms so that the table creaked. ‘This chambers needs another silk and I’d like it to be you.’

  ‘I’d like that too,’ said Jez.

  ‘You’re bright, thorough and consistent.’

  Jez tried not to grin. Ronald was old-school and hated gratuitous shows of emotion.

  ‘Though I have heard it said that your practice is a little…’ Ronald fished for the word. ‘Lop-sided.’

  Jez could feel his inner smile slipping. ‘Lop-sided?’

  ‘This defence work is all very admirable,’ Ronald tapped the side of his bulbous nose. ‘But you don’t want people to think you’re one of these bleeding hearts.’

  Jez fingered the brief. He hated the idea of trying to get someone convicted, and of murder of all things—but he’d worked for bloody years to get this far. He wanted to get to the top. Hell, he wanted a big room with fabulous views.

  ‘I’ll take a look,’ he said.

  Today, in the cold light of Luton Crown Court, he wondered if he should just have told Ronald to bugger off.

  Jez pushed his papers away. ‘This case sucks.’

  ‘The director thinks it’s a runner,’ said Kerry.

  ‘She doesn’t know shit from sugar.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll lose?’ asked Kerry.

  The barrister shook his head. ‘No, I think we’ll win, but not because we have a good case.’

  ‘Then why?’

  He sighed. ‘Because a large section of the British public hate asylum seekers and won’t be able to resist the chance to show this one what they think.’

  ‘Maybe the defence will plea-bargain,’ said Kerry.

  ‘Depends who’s for the other side.’

  ‘A local woman,’ said Kerry. ‘Lilly Valentine.’

  A grin broke out on his face, like the sun after a storm. ‘Lilly Valentine.’ He was laughing now. ‘Lilly fantabulous Valentine.’

  ‘It’s nice to see you too.’

  Jez saw the solicitor in the doorway, her hair tumbling to her shoulders, her blouse open just a little too low, the lace edge of her bra making a tantalising appearance. Things had just got a whole lot better.

  Lilly hadn’t seen Jez Stafford for over a year but he was still every bit as handsome.

  ‘I didn’t know you persecuted,’ she said.

  ‘Just stepping up to do my moral duty.’

  She laughed. ‘You mean you’re up for your promotion this year and some media coverage won’t do you any harm at all.’

  He placed his hand over his heart. ‘I’m wounded you think me so shallow.’

  ‘Hello, Miss Valentine,’ Kerry spoke up from the other side of
the room.

  Lilly smiled at her. ‘Sorry to ignore you, but Jez and I are old friends.’

  ‘We bonded over another murder case,’ he said, still grinning cheekily at Lilly.

  Lilly jabbed him in the ribs. ‘Only that time you weren’t on the side of the forces of evil.’

  ‘What on earth?’ Kerry pointed at the stained tea towel still wrapped around Lilly’s hand.

  Lilly reddened, pulled it off and stuffed it into her bag. ‘Sorry.’ Unfortunately, her hand now looked even less appealing with its deep gash and congealed blood.

  ‘Ouch,’ said Jez.

  Lilly laughed. ‘I must sack my manicurist.’

  Kerry’s smile was forced. ‘So what is your client saying?’

  ‘That there was no conspiracy,’ said Lilly. ‘She had no idea what Artan was going to do.’

  ‘The gun didn’t give her a clue?’ said Jez.

  Lilly ignored him. ‘I’m going for a psych report today.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Kerry.

  ‘Leyla Kadir,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Never heard of her,’ said Jez.

  ‘Well, you should have, Mr Hot Shot Prosecutor, she’s one of the leading shrinks in PTSD.’

  ‘Is that a brand of tampons?’ he asked.

  ‘Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,’ said Lilly. ‘Ask your sis, she recommended Kadir.’

  Jez groaned and hid his face in his hands. ‘Not Sheba. How the hell is she involved?’

  ‘I asked for her help. She doesn’t want to see a miscarriage of justice.’

  Jez leaned over to Kerry and stage-whispered behind his hand. ‘When my sister and Lilly join forces, things often get out of hand.’

  Kerry’s smile became less stiff. ‘We’ll just have to do our best to stop them.’

  ‘Indeed we shall,’ said Jez, and Lilly noticed the thrill his proximity sent through Kerry’s massive frame.

  The two old friends headed down the corridor towards the robing room.

  Lilly nodded back to Kerry. ‘You’ve an admirer there.’

  ‘What can I tell you?’ said Jez. ‘Women can’t resist me.’

  ‘Is that right?’

  He threaded his arm through Lilly’s. ‘There was a time when you were quite keen, Mrs Valentine.’

  ‘Stop right there,’ said Lilly. ‘You won’t put me off my game by trying to embarrass me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ he laughed. ‘So, which poor sucker have you instructed?’

  Uh-oh, crunch time. ‘No one. I’m going to conduct the case.’

  ‘You!’

  ‘I do have some experience in these matters.’

  ‘As a solicitor,’ he said.

  ‘A solicitor with rights of audience in the Crown Court.’

  Jez rubbed his hands together. ‘This is going to be fun.’

  Lilly strode across the foyer towards the consultation room where her client and Milo were hiding. Her black robes billowed around her and she felt faintly ridiculous.

  Anna was tucked into the far corner, her head leaning against Milo’s shoulder. She looked every bit the child in an adult world.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she asked.

  ‘Speaking to the prosecution,’ said Lilly.

  ‘The fat woman with a beard?’ asked Anna.

  Lilly let it ride. ‘And their barrister, Mr Stafford.’

  ‘I hope he’s terrible,’ said Milo.

  Lilly smiled. ‘He’s not. He has years of experience, but in some ways that will work in our favour.’

  Neither Milo nor Anna looked convinced.

  ‘For one thing, he won’t argue every irrelevant detail,’ said Lilly. ‘And for another, he’s not out to crucify you.’

  ‘You also have years of experience, yes?’ asked Milo.

  ‘I’ve defended hundreds of cases,’ said Lilly, and led them into the courtroom where, for the very first time in her career, she would address a Crown Court judge.

  The hearing had been sprung on her so quickly she’d hardly had a chance to gather her thoughts, and when she’d seen Jez she’d been too busy gassing to worry, but now Lilly’s hands began to sweat. She rooted in her bag for a tissue. Naturally, she had none. Hoping no one would see, she wiped her hand across the stained tea towel.

  ‘Ugh.’

  Lilly saw Kerry pull her lips back from her teeth. She was beginning to reassess her views on Miss Thomson.

  She tried to rearrange the papers on the table in front of her but her hands were trembling. Instead she turned to Anna and Milo, who were sitting on the bench behind.

  ‘Okay?’

  They nodded dumbly. At least they were more nervous than she was. Lilly gulped. The fate of that young girl was in her hands, and she wasn’t sure she was ready.

  Hell, Lilly knew she wasn’t ready. She should never have allowed Rupinder to insist she come today. She needed a barrister. Someone like Jez. She should call a halt to this now, insist she be given time to instruct a QC.

  To her left was Jez, cool and calm.

  ‘All rise,’ said the clerk.

  Jez gave Lilly a wink.

  His Honour Patrick Banks entered the room, his face impassive, his eyes as colourless as his wig. It was impossible to second-guess what sort of mood he might be in.

  Jez leaned forward on his hands, a casual gesture that heightened Lilly’s fears.

  ‘Your Honour,’ he said. ‘I am here today for the Crown.’

  The judge gave a chuckle. ‘Prosecuting, eh? I suppose a man in your position needs to spread the old wings.’

  Jez opened his hands. ‘What’s a man to do?’

  Lilly gulped. If the camaraderie was meant to alienate her, it was working.

  ‘And this,’ said Jez, ‘is my colleague for the defence.’

  He nodded to Lilly, who scrambled to her feet. ‘Good morning, Your Honour.’

  The smile the judge had given to Jez turned quickly into a scowl as he appraised Lilly. ‘I’m afraid I can’t hear you.’

  Lilly cleared her throat. ‘I said, “Good morning”’.

  ‘I still can’t hear you, young lady.’

  Lilly felt her cheeks sting. Why was he calling her that? She was nearly bloody forty for God’s sake. ‘Good morning, Your Honour.’

  The judge shook his head. Was he taking the piss?

  ‘I said, “Good morning”.’ Lilly was shouting now. ‘And if you can’t hear this then we’ve got a problem.’

  The judge peered at her as if she were something unpleasant he’d found in his food. ‘I am not deaf, young lady.’

  So what the hell was all this about?

  ‘You said you couldn’t hear me, Your Honour.’

  ‘And indeed I cannot while you are incorrectly attired.’

  Lilly looked down at her gown. Not flattering, she had to admit, but it was the right one for court.

  The judge sighed and made a circle around his head as if he were tracing an imaginary halo.

  Lilly touched her hair. She’d tied it back neatly, so what was the old cretin going on about?

  ‘Your wig,’ whispered Jez.

  ‘I haven’t got one,’ Lilly said.

  ‘Exactly,’ said the judge. ‘Go and put it on immediately’

  Jez rose to his feet and laughed. ‘Your Honour, perhaps I may be of some assistance.’

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ said the judge. ‘Your friend doesn’t appear to be able to keep up.’

  Lilly pulled at her collar. She didn’t know what was worse: the judge criticising her in front of her client or Jez coming to her rescue. She would kill Rupes for making her do this.

  Jez smiled. ‘My colleague is a solicitor and, as Your Honour will know, that precludes her from wearing the full courtly attire. In particular, the wig.’

  Jesus, he made it sound like Lilly was missing out on free money. Still, at least the judge would have to apologise.

  ‘Young lady,’ said the judge. ‘Why on earth didn’t you say so in the beginning?’

&nb
sp; Now Lilly was cross. The man had made her look like an idiot.

  ‘Your Honour hardly gave me a chance.’

  The judge frowned. He was clearly unused to being spoken to in such a direct manner.

  Jez coughed. ‘I think you and Ms Valentine were at crossed purposes, Your Honour.’

  There was a silence while the judge glared at Lilly. She, in turn, refused to look away. Her mother had always told her to stand up to bullies and she wasn’t about to stop now.

  At last the judge turned to his papers. ‘We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get on.’

  ‘I believe’, said Jez, ‘that my colleague wishes to instruct an expert in this case. A psychiatrist.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  Jez was about to reply when Lilly got to her feet. She’d already shown the judge she wouldn’t be belittled. Now it was time to show Jez she wouldn’t be sidelined.

  ‘My psychiatrist will show the court how Post Traumatic Stress Disorder affected my client’s ability to take part in the alleged conspiracy,’ she said.

  ‘Very well,’ said the judge.

  He stood to leave, then turned to Jez. ‘Any press out there?’

  ‘No, Your Honour. They are clearly unaware that this case was listed today.’

  ‘Good,’ said the judge.

  ‘The victim’s family and the school are very eager to avoid media intrusion so the police and the CPS have released only the most basic information,’ said Jez.

  ‘And the defence?’ The judge didn’t even look at Lilly. ‘Are they managing to keep glory-seeking to a minimum?’

  Lilly slapped the table in front of her. ‘I assure you that the defence have no interest in seeing their case in the headlines.’

  The judge gave a half-smile. ‘Then you’d be one of the first.’

  ‘Can I remind you that the defendant is a child,’ Lilly stood erect, ‘and as such she is entitled to full anonymity? I hardly think that the one person on her side would seek to erode her right to that.’

  ‘I see,’ said the judge, and left without so much as a goodbye.

  ‘You shouldn’t have answered him back like that,’ said Jez.

  ‘He was trying to make me look like a twat,’ she said. ‘Don’t tell me you would have taken it lying down.’

  Jez shrugged. ‘Water off a duck’s back. If you want to get on with the judiciary then you learn to play the game.’