Court Out (27 page)

“Don’t worry about it! As long as you’re ok. I think we’re off to get some food before hitting town properly.”

“What? Dressed like this?” I exclaim. “You haven’t seen what’s under this coat! Plus, there is no way I can order red wine with Serena sat anywhere near me, I always spill it on people in white!”

We both start to giggle and I manage to relax slightly. There are some women from Chambers sat near to the driver’s end of the car, but I think I’ll wait to see if they speak to me before starting to worry about what they might say.

Serena is talking about the wedding. This in itself isn’t particularly surprising, but from the sound of it, she now appears to have spent a small fortune on a twelve-piece orchestra to play at the church.

“I heard a sample of their music on the Internet and I just had to book them!” she exclaims. “They’ve played at all the big celebrity weddings, so naturally I wanted them.”

“They must have cost a fortune!” exclaims Jodie, Ewan’s sister.

“Yes,” agrees Serena, “But I’m totally worth it!”

I actually have a great time in the restaurant. I sit between Cassie and Serena, opposite Dianne and their cousin Lynne. The girls keep me in stitches with stories of Lynne’s new boyfriend who refuses to, well, get intimate with her unless Boyzone is playing on the stereo. 

“What about Westlife?” Serena howls.

“Nope, no can do,” Lynne replies, her voice muffled through the napkin stuffed into her mouth to try and stem the laughter.

My sides hurt and I’m doubled over; my head is practically on the table as I shake with giggles. Through my drunken haze and underneath the hysterics coming from around me I can hear a conversation taking place further up the table.

“I know!” says a female voice, “I can not believe that she had the gall to come tonight!”

The emphasis on her words is clear. I keep my head down and feel a cold prickling sensation run over me. It has a strange, oddly sobering effect.

“And would you look at the state of her!” says another, unidentified, yet familiar voice. “She’s really let herself go. Why, having clearly put on a good few stone would you pour yourself into that?”

“And the best bit,” the first woman says, struggling through laughter, “The absolute best bit, is given the Telephone video, that she’s come dressed as, dressed as, practically a convict!”

The two women begin to laugh and I sit up abruptly. Serena catches my arm.

“What’s up?” she’s still laughing and all thoughts of running over and throwing something over my former colleagues are forgotten. I can’t ruin her night. I smile and pat her on the arm.

“Boyzone, eh!”

We end up, as planned, in a club called Zeus. I used to come here when I was about 15 and from the look of it, that’s still the average age of the clientele. Fueled by cheap sugary drinks and far too many shots of tequila, we are dancing like crazy ladies on the stage, watched in either admiration or horror by a group of boys young enough to call their mums to demand a lift home.

I keep forgetting that I’m not wearing my usual sophisticated drinking ensemble and shocking myself when I catch sight of my reflection in the mirrored walls. I’ve managed to steer well clear of anyone connected to Chambers, save for Cassie and Serena and refrained, admirably so, from accidentally punching one of the bitches from earlier and passing it off as a dance move.

Serena has insisted on paying for everyone’s drinks all night and is now somewhat worse for wear. She’s managed to lose most of the tape that protects her modesty and has flashed at most of the people in here. Oh well, at least she’s having a good time.

I’ve discovered that no matter how much I drink I don’t seem to be getting any drunker. That being said, I know that this is going to hurt like hell in the morning. Sebastian tried to call me earlier, but I missed it due to the noise. I’m starting to feel a bit bad about snapping at him this morning and I guess I’ll have to apologise to him as soon as I can.

We dance for what seems like an eternity to cheesy pop from the last three decades. I’ve just had to extract Serena from the arms of a spotty seventeen year old and had received abuse from both parties for doing so.

“Come on bride to be, time to make a move!” I shout into her ear.

“Awww, c’mon!” she slurs back, “Just one, one, one, I love him!” she exclaims with a look of triumph.

“I know, which is why you need to get back now.”

She looks at me with wide eyes and nods seriously. I make some vague hand signals to the rest of our party and we head to the door. Serena is the only one with the mobile number for the Hummer driver and her battery is flat. Great.

“Sorry girls, looks like we’ll have to cab it. I’ll go with Serena and Cassie as we live over the same way.”

My proclamation is met with groans and nods of assent but the group disperses. Serena is staggering about and Cassie helpfully props her up under her arm. Between us we manage to guide her to a nearby taxi rank and bundle her into the back. The driver doesn’t look particularly impressed, but remains thankfully silent. I tell him Serena’s address and we move away from the rank. Serena slumps down between us and begins to snore gently.

“She could do with a lie-in,” comments Cassie.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s been crazy busy recently. She seems to be totally in demand from all sides at the moment.”

“Wow. Lucky her.”

My not so subtle sarcasm is lost on Cassie who continues, speaking almost reverently.

“Yeah, she’s just had a huge lead brief come in, some high value fraud.”

I remain silent. This really, really hurts despite the huge amount of booze I’ve consumed. “Who’s leading her?” I ask.

“God, I can’t remember his name. You know him, the one from the trial.”

“Which trial?” I ask, before I can stop myself.

“The footballer case,” Cassie replies quietly.

Great, so Corr has decided to keep using members of Chambers after all. So much for his so-called support of me. Before I can voice my thoughts, Cassie continues. “Yeah, after the Hobbs trial he said she’d been invaluable and he wanted to work with her again.”

Wait. What?

“You mean Quinn is leading her?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a seven month trial too. She’s definitely landed on her feet! I mean, she’s really quite junior to have landed that sort of trial but I guess she made a lasting impression.”

I try to maintain my composure and smile at Cassie like this is all perfectly normal.

“Have you seen much of Rivers?”

She looks at me blankly. “Who?”

“You know, the guy who Quinn lead in the Hobbs trial” I push. A flash of recognition appears on Cassie’s face.

“Ohhh! Andrew. Yeah, sure, he and Serena are as thick as thieves, always in the pub together. He seems like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he is. Have you met his fiancée? She’s called Lucinda.”

Cassie hiccups and considers this. “Nope. I presumed he was single. Between you and me, I think he might have a little crush on Serena. They do seem quite close for just colleagues.”

We arrive at Serena’s and I haul her out of the cab and drag her up to her front door. She is now totally out of it, mumbling incoherent phrases and names. As I open the front door and push her up the stairs I wonder if Ewan is in. We are making quite a lot of noise and I haven’t heard any signs of life coming from above, so I guess not.

I eventually manage to get her into the bedroom and put her on top of the bed covers. I’m sweating from the effort and I can feel my costume cutting in to me at the seams. I decide to leave Serena’s costume on; Ewan can deal with it when he comes in. I manage to tuck her in and turn to leave.

As I reach the doorway her voice becomes clearer and I’m just about able to make out what she is saying. Over and over she is repeating the same phrase. I wouldn’t bet on it, but I think it’s “I’m sorry.”

Chapter Nineteen

By the time I get back into the taxi my head is spinning. A nasty thought has formed at the back of my mind and try as much as I might to ignore it, I don’t think I can. Cassie notices my change of mood and to her credit, doesn’t try to engage me in small talk as the taxi makes its way to her house. I hug her goodbye and sit back in my seat. As we continue the journey I have an idea.

“Driver? Can we please go back into town?”

“What?” he exclaims, “But I’ve just come from there?”

“I know. I need to get something.”

I give him the address for Chambers and rummage in the bottom of my bag to see if I still have my set of keys that will grant me access to the building. It doesn’t take us long to reach our new destination and I leap out of the cab, instructing the driver to wait for me.

Chambers is totally spooky at this time of night. It’s pitch black and every step on the stairs echoes up to the high ceiling. My mind plays tricks on me as I imagine shadowy figures appearing from every dark corner.

After what seems like an age I emerge onto the floor where my room is. I disable the alarm and creep towards my desk. The concept of being discovered is too terrible to contemplate. Not only am I a pariah, I’m dressed like a half-naked, fat, Lady Gaga. Keeping low, I close the door to my room and start to rummage through a box on my desk. As I expected, Roger has put the papers from the Hobbs trial there. I find my notebook from the first day of the trial and hide it under my coat before running out, back to the taxi.

I leap into the seat and shout, “Drive! Drive!” and to my confusion, the car remains parked outside Chambers. “What’s your problem?” I shriek at the driver.

He looks at me in panic through the rear view mirror. “You haven’t just robbed that place have you?”

Despite the situation, I laugh.

“No. I haven’t, plus you’re about to drop me home so you’ll know where I live.” Seemingly satisfied he pulls away and commences the journey to my house. When we arrive I throw a handful of notes at him and run to my front door. Sebastian must still be out with Ewan as the house is silent.

I go to the kitchen and pour myself a pint glass full of water then go into the dining room and settle myself at the table. My laptop is plugged in to its charger and the screensaver dances before my eyes. Eagerly, I open my notebook and flip through the pages until I find the one I’m looking for.

Bingo! In front of me is the list of names that I wrote down when the jury were being empanelled. One of these people is the man who I supposedly tried to bribe. I’ve tried so hard to remember it from the police interview, but I’ve totally drawn a blank. On the jury were seven women and five men. I grab a pencil and score through all of the females on my list.

It's a long shot, but I log in to Facebook and type the name of the first man, Doug Howard, in. There are about a thousand results for that name and I have no way of knowing if any of them are the juror. Half-heartedly I scan through the thumbnail photographs trying to see if any look familiar. I try the next name, and the next, and the next with similar results. The final name on my list is Clive Butler. My depression increases when again, I’m confronted with a seemingly endless list of people who have that name.

I walk back to the kitchen and grab a packet of cookies from the cupboard and return to my task. Perhaps I can narrow down the results somehow? Again I go through each of the names and try to filter them by location. Just as I’m about to give up, my heart stops. The photograph is small but clear. It’s him. His name is Stephen Walker. The police interview comes flooding back to me, yes, Stephen Walker.

I put down the half eaten biscuit and take a few deep breaths. With a shaking hand I click on his name and wait for his profile page to appear. I’m expecting that he has full privacy settings so I won’t be able to see any details, but I’m wrong. I have access to everything: his photographs, his messages and his personal details.

Now what do I do? I start with his details. He’s 47 and lives on the other side of town. He appears to be unemployed with a wife and three young children. In his profile picture he looks a lot more animated than he did the last time I saw him.

I click to read the messages on his ‘wall,’ his virtual message board. It appears he has just returned from a holiday. A luxury holiday by the look of it. There are messages wishing him well on his cruise around the Caribbean and he has posted photographs of himself enjoying the finer things in life: champagne, a top tier cabin and fancy excursions.

A quick check of his wife’s profile informs me that she is unemployed too. How could they have afforded this? From the comments he’s posted about himself it would appear it’s not just a holiday either. He’s got a new sports car and they are moving to a new house next week.

My mind struggles to think rationally, trying not to jump to the obvious conclusion but fails miserably. To me it’s crystal clear. He’s been paid off. He was bribed. How else could he have the money to sustain this sort of lifestyle? Yes, he could have won the lottery or come into money legitimately, but what are the odds? Hobbs has money to burn and I’d bet my life on the fact he’d try and do anything to escape prosecution.

It can’t be that simple though. Hobbs couldn’t have approached him; it would have been way too dangerous. There are only really three suspects. Quinn is a well-respected, busy Silk and could never risk it. Rivers doesn’t seem to me as the type to do his own dirty work, but would he do it to further his career? The reality of my conclusion hits me like a punch. Serena. She was so jealous of me for landing the brief. She’s benefited from my demise more than anyone else, she’s suddenly flush with cash and now she’s landed a juicy brief. Whilst on paper it makes sense, I’m ignoring the fact she’s my best friend. Would she, could she, have really done that to me?

I sit at the table until the sun comes up. Sebastian texted me earlier to let me know that he was staying over with one of his friends. I’ve played the events over and over in my mind, wanting to find some fault in my logic. Unfortunately, I can’t.

I’ve scoured Rivers’, Serena’s and Walkers’ Facebook profiles over and over trying to find some further confirmation of my suspicions but have drawn a blank. Wait a minute, Lucinda. It only takes me seconds to pull up her page. That’s odd. For someone who used to update her status every five minutes, it seems that she has been silent now for about a month. Her personal information still lists her as ‘engaged’ though and there are countless pictures of her with Rivers. I have no idea what to make of this.