Ken Goodman was staring out of the window, his arms folded across his chest and resting on his stomach, protruding through his braces, as Porter entered the room.
Porter had received the call ten minutes earlier, Ken barking down the phone at him, panic in his voice. Porter had snapped at him to stay quiet, that people might overhear, and rushed down in his car.
He’d been expecting the call. Jayne was in town to follow the trail left by Mark Roberts. She was bound to end up at his office.
Porter closed the door. ‘What’s the panic?’
Ken turned. ‘Like I told you, that woman was here.’ There was sweat on his brow, his face flushed.
‘And I told you yesterday you’d get a visit. You said you’d be able to handle it.’
‘It didn’t go as I expected. I thought she’d just want to talk about Rodney and that would be it, but she wanted permission for whoever she’s working for to speak to Rodney.’
‘Which is what Mark wanted, and look how that ended up. You told her to leave, I presume, with Rodney being your client and all.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Is there something different here?’
Ken sat in his chair and put his head in his hands. He took some deep breaths. There were damp patches on his shirt.
‘Ken?’
He looked up. ‘I wrote to the prison to authorise his attendance.’
‘You did what?’
‘I had no choice.’
‘You always had a choice.’ Porter stepped closer. ‘What did she have on you?’
Ken flushed. ‘Nothing. I was just trying to deflect her.’
Porter banged the desk. ‘Bullshit. How the hell can allowing her boss to speak to Rodney deflect her?’
‘They don’t know anything. Calm down.’
‘For now. Can’t you get him on the phone?’
‘It’ll be fine, don’t worry. Mark didn’t find anything out, remember, and he spent longer looking than these two.’
‘How do we know?’
‘Follow her then. Find out what she knows and keep an eye. Their client’s trial is next week. They’ll lose interest soon. Remember, they’re not interested in Rodney Walker. They’re interested in Mark Roberts. Her boss is a lawyer. It’s about doing the case and getting paid. Their interest will fade, like it always does.’
‘Ken, don’t you get it? Unlike the victims, murder cases don’t die. People are always looking for a new angle, to be the one who sets them free. How do you know Rodney hasn’t had a change of heart? How do you know he doesn’t want out now? We can’t have him talking. You’ve got to deal with this. Let me look after her. You sort out your client.’
Ken closed his eyes and nodded, the flush gone from his face, his skin with more of a grey pallor than before.
Porter went towards the door. ‘One other thing. This better not be about the twitch of your stumpy cock. If this all goes wrong because you liked the look of her legs, I’ll drag up some things from your past you hoped had been forgotten. Remember the party and the girl too young to consent?’
Ken stood up and jabbed his finger. ‘Don’t go there, not ever.’
‘Doesn’t feel good, does it, knowing you could lose everything? I could find that girl, and it’s a different world now. Back then, people thought you were just a bit of a rascal. Now, you’re a groomer. And I don’t think your wife would appreciate the she told me she was sixteen angle. You’re in this up to your neck, Goodman, so speak to Rodney. Today.’
He didn’t wait for Ken’s reply. Instead, he marched through the reception area and back down the stairs to the street.
All of his past was catching up with him now and he had too much to lose. He wasn’t going to let Jayne Brett take it all away.