Court Out (19 page)

“Yes, we could have.”

“And it’s right that the police hadn’t contacted him prior to then to tell him they wouldn’t be trying to prosecute him?”

“Of course not. That’s not police practice.”

“So when he was running away from you, it’s possible it could have been that he didn’t want to speak to you about that then, isn’t it?”

“Well, I suppose so-”

“And regarding the interview. The first line of the caution starts you do not have to say anything doesn’t it.”

“Yes, it does.”

Quinn sits down, a smirk on his face. I look across to see Rivers with an equally smug expression.

Corr spends the remainder of the afternoon reading out the agreed evidence in the case. As Hobbs went ‘no comment’ in interview luckily we don’t have to sit through pages and pages of that being read out.

Just after four, the courtroom door opens and a uniformed officer passes me a small bundle of papers. I scan them eagerly. Jack-bloody-pot.

The first is a statement from a police officer who has enhanced the photograph of the smashed champagne bottle. It lists his various qualifications and experience with the relevant software and attached to it a large colour photograph. Amidst the green glass, the parts of the label are now clear. Krug Clos Du Mesnil 1995.

The second statement comes from a man called Raymond Weir. Mr. Weir is an established wine merchant with many shops around the country. He’s completed a full enquiry into the history of the champagne and attached the documents to support his conclusion.

In his statement he details his experience and the job he was tasked with. His account ends with this sentence. ‘This particular bottle is also extremely rare as only 12,624 bottles were produced in the 1995 vintage.’

I pass them forward to Corr who leafs through them whilst still reading a statement to the jury.  When he finishes, he addresses the Judge and asks them to send the jury out.

“My Lord, I have two new statements that the prosecution seek to rely on”

Quinn jumps to his feet in a flash

“What!” he explodes “How, after three trials can you be serving more evidence now?”

The Judge makes a calming gesture with his hands.

“Mr. Corr, can I please see this evidence? Perhaps you could hand Mr. Quinn a copy too?”

Corr hands the papers around the court and we sit in silence for a few minutes before the Judge breaks the silence.

“Well” he says, sounding rather shell-shocked, tapping the end of his fountain pen on the papers “As you know Mr. Quinn, the prosecution are perfectly entitled to serve more evidence up until the point they close their case, which they have not done yet. There is of course the issue over whether you want me to grant you an adjournment so you can find an expert of your own to comment on either matter? That is a request I would consider, but perhaps given the source of Mr. Weir’s conclusion, you are perhaps in an insurmountable predicament?”

Quinn has turned a worrying shade of red and he looks furious.

“My Lord, I must object at the addition of such evidence at this late stage. I do ask it ought not be admitted given the undoubtable prejudice to the defence!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Quinn but no. This evidence is perfectly admissible. Given the lateness of the hour now, I will ask for your thoughts on this tomorrow morning.”

After he leaves. Quinn turns to us. There’s a hint of venom in his usually jovial tone.

“Are you that desperate to win that you start trying to ambush us at the eleventh hour?”

Corr remains calm and his tone is even in his reply “My junior picked up on something I’d missed. You will of course appreciate that she was not present during either of the previous trials. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some matters I need to attend to.”

He walks away, leaving me stood with Quinn. I really hope he doesn’t try and take his frustration out on me. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to say something, but he inhales and appears to swallow the words that had formed on his lips. Rivers is stood just behind him and he taps him on the shoulder.

“Come on, Hobbs is waiting for us outside. We need to have a conference. Now.”

I watch as the pair walk away from me and find that Serena has materialised at my side.

“You look as though you could use a drink!” she exclaims.

“Now?” I query, seeing the time on the clock at the back of court. “It’s not even five yet!”

She looks at me with an expression of sympathy on her face.

“It appears you’ve had a busy day, plus we haven’t had a proper chat in ages. Come on, I’ll even buy the first bottle.”

I quickly weigh up the pros and cons in my head. Yes, it is a weekday, yes I do really have a lot of work that I could and should be doing, yes I really should get home to Sebastian, but I could do with having a bit of a vent about this to someone who understands exactly what the issues are and I do need to talk to Serena about the Andrew situation. Decision made, I nod at her and grab my handbag from beneath my seat.

The bar is about half full so we have no difficulty in finding a table with two squashy armchairs next to it. We fall into our usual topics of conversation easily and spend a good hour chatting about general Chambers news and gossip.

Apparently, Joanna received an anonymous letter from one of Robert’s conquests disclosing details of their illicit liaisons. She’s thrown him out and he’s spending his time either asleep in one of the conference rooms in Chambers or here, in the bar drowning his sorrows. He’s not here now, which I’m quite glad about, as I don’t think I could muster any sympathy for him. He made his bed and now he’d been chucked out of it.

“He only has himself to blame. He’s not sorry he did it, he’s sorry he’s been caught!”

“I feel quite bad for him actually,” comments Serena.

“Why?”

“Well, he obviously doesn’t get what he needs at home, so what does she expect?”

“You think this is Joanna’s fault?”

“No, I don’t think it’s her fault but perhaps if she’d been more attentive then he wouldn’t have strayed.”

“Bullshit!” I exclaim, banging my glass down onto the table in front of me “That’s such a cop-out and I’m surprised you’re thinking like this. Would you still say that if Ewan cheated on you?”

She laughs, and it’s not a pleasant sound. “As if Lauren. Ewan wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Ok then, what about if you cheated on him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks looking somewhat guarded.

“Well if you thought that Ewan wasn’t giving you everything you needed, would it be ok for you to look elsewhere?”

She pauses for a fraction too long.

“No, I didn’t say that. Ewan and I are completely different anyway.”

I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Really, how?”

She ignores me and changes the subject, taking a deep gulp of her drink.

“Are you all set for the reunion?”

“Yes, I got my ticket the other night.”

She checks her watch then looks at me closely.

 “Have you been eating spinach?”

“What? No. Why?”

“You have something green stuck in your teeth.”

I fish about in my bag for my mirror but struggle to find it.

“Do you have a mirror on you?”

“It’s really dark in here, you’d best go to the ladies.”

“Ok, thanks.”

I get to my feet and hurry to the door at the back of the room. What on earth could it be? I’ll be so mortified if it’s something that’s been there since lunch. As I emerge into the toilet I study my reflection in the large mirror above the sink and bare my teeth. I can’t see anything.

I open my mouth wider and examine each tooth in turn. Nothing. I wash my hands and leave the room, running my hands over my hair as I walk back to Serena. She’s sitting forward in her armchair and she’s tearing up one of the napkins that came with our drinks.

“There was nothing there?”

“Maybe you dislodged it with your tongue?” she postulates, “Let me see?”

I bare my teeth at her.

“No, you’re right,” she says, “It’s gone now. Never mind.”

“So, where’s Andrew this evening?” I ask.

“Oh, I’m meeting him later.”

She shifts in her seat and refuses to meet my gaze.

“I bet you haven’t had much time to chat today because of this morning.”

“Oh no, we met up this morning after you left Chambers. I hadn’t realised he wasn’t going on the trip either, but he called me and we hooked up.”

“Really, what for?” I ask, leaning forwards in my chair in an attempt to engage her in a proper conversation.

“Just to discuss the case and stuff,” she replies, leaning ever further away from me back in her seat.

I sigh.

“Look, I’m not stupid. I have eyes. If there isn’t something going on with you two already, there will be soon.”

Her eyes snap up and she fixed me with a laser like stare. She speaks slowly.

“Stop being daft Lauren. I realise you’re all middle aged and boring now, but you’ve totally got the wrong end of the stick.” She’s smiling and looks like a naughty child. I sigh, I really don’t know what to say or do.

“I’m not trying to interfere! I just want you to be happy.”

“No Lauren, you just want to tell me what to do. You always think you know what’s best, but newsflash, you don’t!”

“That’s not fair!” I cry, “You’re planning a wedding! You’re getting married in three months. You need to be careful. If you’re unhappy about your relationship then you need to talk to Ewan, or me, not Andrew!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies. “For the hundredth time, there is nothing going on between us. Andrew understands what I’m going through, he’s getting married too.”

“Yes, he is. Neither of you are single. I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but this just looks totally dodgy.”

Her eyes harden and she looks at me with badly disguised irritation.

“Leave it Lauren. We’re friends and nothing more.”

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes and I try and think of something to say to her. Before I can, she looks at her watch and gathers her phone and purse from the table.

“Are you off?” I ask, surprised. “We still have most of the wine!”

“Yeah, I have some stuff to do.”

I have to bite my lip to stop myself from asking whether it involves Rivers. “Ok then, well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she replies, getting to her feet and smoothing the front of her suit. Confused, I watch her as she makes her way out of the bar.

I sit alone for a few minutes and try to compose my thoughts.  Perhaps I should have mentioned what he tried with me last night? Maybe the pressure has got to me and I’ve finally gone mad and imagined this. Am I seeing things that simply aren’t there? Try as I might, I can’t help worrying about her. I pray I am wrong, but if I’m not, I hope she knows what she’s doing with Rivers and that she hasn’t done anything that can’t be reversed. I make a mental note to ask Sebastian to have a word with Ewan to gently see if he suspects anything’s amiss.

I bend down to my right ankle to retrieve my lipgloss from by bag and grope under the table. My hand hits air as I wave about trying to locate the familiar leather handles. I poke my head underneath to try and find the errant article and feel a rush of relief when I spot it about a foot away from my left heel.

Thank God, the last thing I need is for someone to have pinched my bag when I wasn’t looking. I fish out the tube from the top of my bag and dab at my lips absent-mindedly. I look out of the window at the rapidly darkening sky, see the lights of passing cars and decide to make a break for home.

As I walk the short distance from the bar to the car park, my head is full with thoughts of Serena and what, if anything I’m going to do about it. Why would Rivers kiss me then invite Serena there to fill my place after I’d bolted? Does Serena actually know what happened? Would he have told her? Why would a man who is due to get married soon  - Ouch!

The air is knocked out of my lungs and I double over in pain. The floor around me is surrounded by papers and I realise with a jolt I’ve walked smack bang into someone. I look up and see a dark figure wearing a long coat and flat cap.

“Sorry, excuse me, gosh I’m sorry!” I exclaim, straightening up

The figure doesn’t speak or move. I squint and try to get a better look at them. The person appears to be male and about my height. He makes no attempt to retrieve his papers so I crouch down and assemble them into a pile in my arms.

“Here you go” I say, handing them over. “I’m such a klutz.”

I turn to walk past him and out of the corner of my eye, spot an A4 brown envelope a few feet away. I retrieve it and pass it to him.

“Nearly missed that one!” I say, placing it in his hands.

Again, the man remains silent. This is getting a bit weird.

“Ok, I think that’s them all. Sorry again!”

I walk briskly away from the male shaking my head. God there are some odd people about. Mind you, I probably startled him when I barged him off the pavement. I smile to myself. That probably looked pretty funny actually. By the time I reach my car the man is forgotten and my thoughts have returned to Serena. I drive home, troubled by the situation between us and later that night, fall into a restless sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

“Ryan Dean Hobbs”

“And you are how old please?”

“I’m thirty four,” he replies, looking confidently at the twelve faces staring up at him.

Quinn pauses before asking the next question in sombre tones.

“Now Mr. Hobbs, in a minute I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you about the circumstances leading up to your wife’s death, but before I do, I wonder if you could help the jury with a few preliminary matters?”

“Of course,” he replies, coolly

“When did you marry Marina?”

“February 14th, 2005.”

“Tell us about how you met.”

“Well, long story short, our eyes met across a crowded bar, we began to talk and the rest is history!”

There’s a pause as everyone in the courtroom remembers the far from fairytale ending to their courtship.