When Aubrey arrived at his Club in Pall Mall at 6 o’clock, Conrad Rainer had already taken possession of a confidential corner table in the larger of the two lounges on the ground floor. He had a large glass of whisky in front of him, and the bottle from which it had been poured stood alongside the glass. He was lighting a cigarette, and the ashtray already held four butts. As he took his seat, Aubrey caught the eye of Luke, the waiter on duty in the lounge, and ordered his usual pre-dinner Campari and soda with no more than a wave of his hand, a gesture he had refined at the Club over many years and with which the staff were by now thoroughly familiar. He looked closely at Conrad. He seemed pale and preoccupied. Aubrey decided to do what he could to keep the atmosphere light.
‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ he said. ‘Is the stress of the new job getting to you already?’
Conrad shook his head quickly.
‘No, not at all. I used to smoke a bit at university, if you remember. For some reason, I seem to have picked the habit up again; can’t think why.’
There was a silence.
‘You sounded rather upset earlier, on the phone,’ Aubrey smiled. ‘I do hope no one in my chambers is to blame.’
There was no smile in return.
‘Why would anyone in your chambers be to blame?’
Aubrey looked away briefly, and then back.
‘You have Ben Schroeder in front of you, don’t you?’
‘Yes. But Schroeder seems very good. He’s done nothing to upset me.’ He paused. ‘Why were you talking about me with your former pupil?’
Aubrey sat back in his chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luke putting the finishing touches to his Campari and soda. He turned away to watch him approach, buying time, sparing himself the necessity of an immediate reply. He calculated quickly as he watched Luke expertly serve his drink from a silver tray, a pristine white tea towel lying neatly over his shoulder. Having served the drink, he removed the ashtray and instantly replaced it with a clean one.
‘Will that be all, Mr Smith-Gurney? Sir Conrad?’
‘Yes, thank you, Luke,’ Aubrey said.
He waited for Luke to retreat out of earshot.
‘I wasn’t talking to Harriet about you in that sense, Conrad. Your name came up because she mentioned your trial. Harriet represented Susan Lang in the family proceedings in front of Bernard Wesley. She was very distressed when her client was stabbed to death, needless to say, and she’s not quite over it yet. She noted that the husband’s trial had started today.’ He hesitated. ‘That was all there was to it.’
He raised his glass in a silent toast and took a drink.
‘Now, since you’re keeping me from Sandra and the girls on what was supposed to be a family evening, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?’
Conrad nodded. Aubrey watched the man crumble before his eyes. His hand shook as he raised his cigarette to his mouth, and his voice was hoarse when he eventually spoke.
‘I don’t think I can go on, Aubrey. I’ve been dreading saying what I’m about to say for a long time, because I know that once I tell someone, my life is over. While it’s just in my head, it’s not real, but once I say the words it takes form, and once it takes form, my life as I know it is gone. I’ve been thinking that I may need to find a way out.’
For a brief moment, Aubrey felt an urge to take one of Conrad’s cigarettes; but he had given up the habit on his doctor’s advice three years earlier, and if Sandra knew he had started smoking again, even the occasional one, she would have a few words to say on the subject. It wasn’t worth it. Instead, he took another drink from his glass.
‘Conrad, I’m here to listen, and whatever you say to me in the Club is said in confidence. But in all honesty, I have no idea what you’re talking about. It seems like only yesterday I was at your party, celebrating your appointment to the bench. You had capped a successful practice with a High Court judgeship. You seemed to be on top of the world. And now you’re talking about finding a way out? For Heaven’s sake, what’s happened to make you talk like this?’
‘It’s not anything that happened overnight, Aubrey,’ Conrad said, refilling his glass generously from the bottle. ‘It’s been going on for a long time now. But it’s finally come to a head. It was bound to, sooner or later, and now it has.’
He put out the cigarette and immediately lit another.
‘I gamble,’ he said. ‘I’m a gambler. I’m sure that’s not news to you. I’m sure everyone knows that by now.’
Aubrey nodded. ‘I know you like a flutter when you go out for the evening, Conrad. Of course I do. Everyone knows you enjoy the good life. You’ve never made any secret about it. And why shouldn’t you? You’ve always worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known, and I’ve known you a long time now. I’m sure you’ve toned it down a bit since you went on the bench, but –.’
‘It’s not a question of a flutter,’ Conrad interrupted. ‘It’s not a question of putting a fiver on a horse, or a tenner on the Boat Race, for God’s sake. I’m talking about gambling, Aubrey. I’m talking about losing five thousand or more in a night. Gambling.’
Aubrey finished his drink quickly and waved in Luke’s direction. Luke had already anticipated the request, and another Campari and soda was in front of Aubrey in a matter of seconds, together with yet another clean ashtray.
‘All right,’ he said.
Conrad seemed absent for some time, smoking his cigarette and gazing up at the ceiling. Eventually, his eyes returned to the table.
‘It all started about 18 months ago,’ he began. ‘I was at Annabel’s one night. It’s always been a favourite haunt.’
‘I’ve passed the odd evening there myself, with Sandra, I seem to recall,’ Aubrey smiled.
‘Yes. I don’t know what it is about the place. It’s just an old wine cellar, isn’t it? But there’s something about what Mark Birley has done with it. It’s easy to forget the cares of the day.’
‘Indeed.’
Conrad hesitated.
‘And in my case, I was doing a bit more than forgetting the cares of the day,’ he said quietly. ‘I was on the lookout, and there was someone I’d been introduced to a day or two before. I went there to meet her. I don’t mind admitting it. I’m sorry if I shock you.’
‘Not at all.’
‘You’ve met Deborah. She’s the perfect wife, in many respects, into all manner of good works and all the rest of it, and perfectly happy to spend her life in Guildford. But that wasn’t enough for me.’
He paused for a long sip of his drink.
‘Specifically, Aubrey, once a month in the missionary position after Sunday lunch wasn’t enough for me.’
Another cigarette replaced the one just extinguished.
‘Her name is Greta Thiemann. She’s German, from the East, Leipzig. I’m not entirely sure how she got over here, what her citizenship is, and all the rest of it. But she seemed well established, with a flat in Knightsbridge. She didn’t mention a job. It crossed my mind that she might be a hooker. With her looks she certainly could be if she wanted to. But she’s not. So I assumed she must be a woman of independent means. Well, at least, that’s what I thought then; now, I’m not so sure.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ll come to that.’
Aubrey nodded. ‘All right.’
‘You should see her, Aubrey. My God, she was a sight for sore eyes.’
Aubrey raised his eyebrows and allowed himself a drink.
‘I’m sure.’
‘She didn’t waste any time, either. We have a few drinks, and then I’m telling her all about the deprivations of marital life in Guildford; and the next thing I know after that, I’m in the staff toilet with her, with my trousers down around my ankles, she’s on her knees in front of me, and she’s—.’
‘Yes, I get the picture, Conrad.’ Aubrey waved again at Luke. ‘And actually, contrary to what I said before, you are shocking me.’
Conrad smiled briefly. The thought occurred to Aubrey that it might have been the first smile he had given anyone that day.
‘I’m sorry. In any case, we did a bit of gambling, and then she whisked me away to Knightsbridge.’
‘You didn’t go home to Guildford?’
‘No. I’d told Deborah I was staying up in town for a few days, working on a fraud case – which was true, although obviously I wasn’t working on it that night. As you know, I have my flat in the Barbican. It wasn’t unusual for me to spend weeknights in town.’
He paused.
‘We spent the whole night having sex – and not just in the missionary position, I don’t mind telling you. It was unbelievable. I’d never experienced anything remotely like it before. I can’t even describe it to you…’
‘That’s perfectly all right, Conrad,’ Aubrey said. ‘No need.’
‘Anyway… then I had to rush home and get ready for court. But I was hooked. And, as Humphrey Bogart said in Casablanca, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’
He took a long sip of his whisky.
‘The only problem was, Aubrey, I didn’t know what Greta expected of her friends.’