He couldn’t put it off any longer. The old man had gone and, as far as he knew, Dan Grant was alone. He checked in his rear-view mirror, and then ahead. No one was watching him. He was just an anonymous man on a quiet street.
As he stepped out of his car, he pulled his coat tighter. The morning was fresh and he felt the cold more than he used to. He reached down into the side compartment for his baseball cap, old and green and faded, to hide his unkempt hair.
Now was the time. The trial started the next day. He couldn’t leave it much longer. He’d left it too long already.
He crossed the road and walked into the cobbled car park, the entrance to Dan’s building in the furthest corner. It was one of Highford’s grander apartment blocks, the old wharf character maintained, the millstone clean and brightened by steel balconies.
He hesitated. Was this the right time? He should wait, pick his moment. How would he get into the building? Did he expect Dan to buzz him in? He thought about the old cliché of pressing every button until he got someone lazy enough to unlock the door without asking questions, but he wasn’t sure he could do that.
There was a rumble of tyres behind him. An old blue Fiat, a young woman driving.
He turned away and made as if to tie his shoelace before he cursed himself. If it was an attempt to be inconspicuous, all he’d done was to make himself look suspicious. He kept his face out of view as she drove past, and once she stopped, he walked back out of the car park, stopping to peer round the wall at her.
She was slim and pretty and didn’t live there, because she pressed a button rather than using a key. Dan’s girlfriend? Could be, although there were other apartments in the building.
He walked towards her, hoping to sneak in behind her, but the door buzzed before he could get there. He cursed. He’d been too hesitant and he was running out of time.
He went back to his car. He was prepared to wait.
Dan left his door ajar and went back into his living room. Jayne knew the way in.
His mind was whirring as he slumped onto the sofa. Pat’s visit had left behind a mix of adrenaline and despair.
Jayne bounded in, grinning. ‘I thought you’d forgotten about me.’
She lifted his mood straightaway. Her energy, her brightness, despite the darkness that he knew wasn’t far beneath. ‘How could I forget you?’
She sat down on the chair opposite. ‘You promised food.’
‘Are you not eating again?’
‘It requires money and you’ve stopped sending me work, which means the cupboards are bare.’
‘I’m sorry about that. We’ll eat soon, but we’ve got work to do before that, if you want it.’
‘Paid work?’
‘Of course, but it isn’t going to be easy.’
‘It’s always like that with you. What is it?’
‘You heard of Sean Martin?’
She pulled a face and shook her head. ‘Puff Daddy?’
Dan laughed, despite the sadness he felt about Pat. ‘That’s Sean Combs. No, Sean Martin was convicted of murdering his stepdaughter but was freed on appeal.’
Jayne thought for a moment, taking off her coat and throwing it over the back of the sofa. ‘Oh, him. He’s from round here, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, from Highford. Pat Molloy represented him. The murder took place on the canal towpath.’
‘I don’t remember the original trial but I remember him being cleared. My opinion? Guilty.’
‘The jury said he wasn’t when he had his retrial.’
‘How is Pat? I saw him walking around the town centre a couple of weeks ago and he didn’t look so good. I say walking, but it was much slower than that. It looked like some of his spark had gone.’
‘He’s not good.’ Dan sighed. ‘Damn, he’s worse than that. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but he’s got cancer and he doesn’t think he’s got long.’
Jayne’s hand went to her mouth and her eyes moistened. ‘Not Pat. That’s not fair. They’ve got it wrong, they must have.’
‘I wish they had but Pat seems pretty clear.’
‘And how are you? I know how much he means to you.’
‘I’m all mixed up. He’s taught me so much. He’s the lawyer I wanted to be when I started out. And now this.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t imagine him not being here.’
‘I’m sorry, Dan.’
‘He wants me to take over the business at the end of the month, you’ve seen how he’s fading, so I’ve got that on top of everything else, but it just seems unreal.’
Dan stopped talking as emotion choked him. He swallowed it back before continuing, ‘It’s not just about him being my boss though. I remember when my mum died, and my dad was all over the place, too much so to be there for me. Pat was, though; he knew how to say the right things.’
Jayne came over to him and put her arms round him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, and kissed him on the cheek.
For a moment, he closed his eyes and let her aroma envelope him, her skin warm and soft against his. For a moment, her fingers were in his hair, her breath hot on his neck, her body pressed against his as she hugged him.
‘Thank you,’ he said, pulling away awkwardly, his voice thick. ‘We should talk about Sean Martin, though.’
Her hand went to his cheek. ‘Back to business then,’ she said, and sat away from him. After a few seconds Jayne broke the silence. ‘Everyone thinks he did it. I know he’s in the press a lot, a spokesman for dodgy convictions or something, but everyone looks at him and thinks he did it, because if not him, who else?’
‘It sounds like you’ll be just the right fit for this, then,’ and he pointed at the papers strewn across the table. ‘That trial starts tomorrow; Peter Box. You might remember it. A murder in the early hours of New Year’s Day, just after the midnight fireworks. Lizzie Barnsley is the name of the victim, and Pat has this idea that it might help my client if I can prove that Sean Martin murdered his stepdaughter, Rosie Smith.’
She gasped in shock. ‘Why are you doing that? You defend people, not the other way around.’ She stood up and walked over, leafing through the papers and then recoiling when she saw the crime scene photographs. ‘This looks grizzly. Is it a good case against him?’
‘Very good. He left his blood on one of her shoes.’
‘What does he say about that?’
‘Nothing, and that’s the problem. He won’t talk about what happened.’
‘How are you supposed to defend him, then?’
‘That’s just what I told him. All I can do is undermine the prosecution case.’
‘And set free a guilty man if you win.’
‘That’s my job.’
‘I know, the lawyer’s cop out, that it’s about the evidence, blah blah.’ She held up her hand. ‘And before you say it, I know the system worked for me, but I don’t attack people on towpaths.’
‘We don’t pick and choose when it fits.’
Jayne gave a mock salute. ‘Understood. I’ll do what I can and let justice prevail.’
‘I appreciate the dramatic flourish but I need results, and fast.’
‘But what has Sean Martin got to do with this case? Apart from the canal, what’s the link?’
‘Peter Box tried to claim responsibility for Rosie’s murder when Sean Martin was awaiting trial.’
‘What? The case where Sean Martin ended up being innocent?’
Dan nodded. ‘That’s right, except that he isn’t.’
‘Who isn’t what?’
‘Sean Martin isn’t innocent.’
‘Hang on, you made me sound wrong when I said that.’
‘Your opinion is based on what? Media reports? Mine is on more than that: he told Pat Molloy he’d done it.’
‘No way.’
‘After Pat got him acquitted, Sean told him that he’d hidden the murder weapon.’
‘Shit, Dan, this is huge. Imagine what the newspapers would make of it.’
‘I can’t think about that. I’ve got to get through the Peter Box trial and somehow make this Sean Martin angle work, because there isn’t much else going for him. It might explain his silence but that is all, but that’s how these cases work sometimes. Attack each part of the prosecution case until it all crumbles, but it won’t work at all if I can’t prove Sean Martin’s guilt.’
‘Because the jury will think Peter Box killed Rosie too, and then he has no chance.’
‘That’s pretty much it.’
‘Didn’t Peter’s confession come out in the Sean Martin trial?’
‘Sean didn’t want to use it. He said it was probably just some fantasy and didn’t want to look desperate by throwing all the blame Peter’s way. He didn’t want an innocent man to take the blame.’
‘What a hero. What are you going to do, then?’ And then she started to nod as it dawned on her. ‘You’re going to suggest that Sean Martin killed Lizzie Barnsley too, but you’ve got to prove he killed his stepdaughter to make it credible.’
‘That’s too far, but if I’m honest, I don’t really know what to do. This grand idea arose today and the damn trial starts tomorrow.’
‘Why are you being so timid? After all, if you’re going to accuse Sean Martin of Rosie’s murder, why not go all the way and accuse him of killing Lizzie too? If the jurors hate him enough for getting away with murdering his stepdaughter, they might be prepared to think he killed Lizzie too.’
‘You’ve got ambition, but there’s no link between Lizzie’s murder and Sean Martin.’
‘There is: Peter Box. Sean Martin was accused of killing someone, and he more or less told Pat that he was guilty. Peter told Pat that he was the guilty one. Well, they can’t both be guilty. Or can they? And if they are linked somehow to the murder of Sean Martin’s stepdaughter, they might be linked to Lizzie’s murder.’
Dan frowned as he thought about that. ‘I see where you’re coming from but it’s a real stretch. I don’t even know if Sean Martin was ever a suspect in Lizzie’s case or if he’s got an alibi.’
‘Start there, then.’
Dan thought about that, and his smile grew. ‘You’re good at this. I’ll speak to him. If nothing else, it might spook him, and we might see what he does. I worked on his case when I was a trainee, so he’ll remember me enough to talk to. I’ll find out where he was on New Year’s Eve too, the night that Lizzie died. That part should be easy, because everyone remembers where they spent New Year’s Eve. We can check it out.’
‘How will you get him to answer your questions? He’s not just going to confess to you that he killed his stepdaughter and tell you where he hid the murder weapon.’
‘By pretending I’m not asking them, of course. I’ll knock on his front door for a friendly chat about Pat. If he offers a drink, I’m accepting.’
‘Why?’
‘It will buy me fifteen minutes, maybe more.’ Dan paused. ‘You’ve changed. We’ve had this conversation before, about how I can’t go about ruining people’s lives, throwing around wild accusations, just to get an acquittal.’
‘If he murdered his stepdaughter, he’s got this coming to him. But if you’re rattling his cage, you can’t spend your time watching him. What’s important is how he reacts, not what he says to you, so you need someone he doesn’t know.’ She grinned. ‘That’s me.’
‘I knew you were the right fit.’
‘We’ll drive up in separate cars. You speak to him, and I’ll hang around. Something else first, though.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You promised food.’
‘I know just the place. Come on.’
As they stood up, Jayne said, ‘Didn’t he kill his stepdaughter to stop her from accusing him of abusing her?’
‘That was the subtle inference, the press hinting at it, although it was never said out loud during the trial.’
‘If that’s the case, what theory can we give about why he’d kill Lizzie Barnsley? That’s like a random attack, not a secret he’s trying to cover up.’
‘Yes, a good point.’
‘And what’s the big deal with Sean Martin for Peter Box? Why would he get involved?’
‘I’m hoping he’ll tell me in the morning.’
‘Unless he was telling the truth, of course, which means that not only will you free a killer, you’ll also ruin the reputation of a man trying to rebuild his life.’
Dan pulled on his lip. Now that she’d said it, he realised she was right.
‘The law is a dirty place sometimes. Come on, you said you wanted food. We’ll stop on the way, but I need to decide about Sean Martin.’