‘I’m afraid there’s worse to come,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘Just before Conrad was appointed to the bench, he was in chambers one day. He was in the clerk’s room, but the clerks were elsewhere.’
He paused.
‘Stephen, I want to make it clear that I’m not defending what he’s done. I’m trying to explain it to you – and to myself. As a matter of fact, I don’t think Conrad would try to defend himself if he were here. Be that as it may, he was in the clerk’s room and he noticed – I think your clerk puts the cheques for your fees into small brown envelopes: is that right?’
Phillips nodded. ‘Yes, and leaves them in our pigeon-holes in the clerk’s room.’
‘He noticed that there were brown envelopes for Frank, Jonathan and Martin, and he took them.’
There was a shocked silence.
‘What?’ Phillips whispered eventually.
‘The calculation he made seems to have been this: everyone knows it takes solicitors forever to pay our fees. It’s the bane of all our lives. So we barristers don’t question our clerks about fees unless the fee is outstanding for a very long time. It was a calculated risk, but it bought him some time for his luck to change. In the long run, it was madness, of course; he couldn’t possibly have got away with it indefinitely. One of you was bound to ask your clerk about your fees at some point, and as soon as any one of you did that, the clerk would say that the cheque had been put in your pigeon-hole. He would then contact the solicitors, who would say that the cheque had been paid, and the game would be up. If his luck hadn’t changed by then, it was over.’
‘But in order to benefit from the cheques,’ Weatherall said, ‘he would have had to –’
‘Forge your endorsements on the cheques so that he could pay them into his account,’ Aubrey said. ‘Yes. That’s exactly what he did.’
Another silence.
‘This is outrageous,’ Reilly said. ‘How did he ever think he could get away with it?’
‘In the same way he thought he could get away with everything else. His luck would change, he would win the money back, and everything would be fine.’
‘The man’s a High Court judge,’ Reilly said. ‘It’s insanity.’
‘That’s what I’ve been telling him,’ Aubrey said. He smiled. ‘Still, here I am today, several months later, and apparently none of you knew your cheques were missing until I told you.’
He reached for his briefcase, and took out several sheets of paper. He stood and handed them to Phillips.
‘This will give you all the details – the cheque numbers, the amount of the fees, the dates of payment, and so on. If you ask your clerk to check his records, you will be able to reconstruct the whole thing.’
Phillips perused the papers and handed them to Martin Cohn.
‘You said you wanted our help, Aubrey,’ he said. ‘What exactly are you asking us to do?’
‘I’m asking you to work with me to make sure that Frank, Jonathan and Martin get their money back,’ Aubrey replied.
‘It doesn’t sound as though there’s much chance of that,’ Reilly said. He sounded deflated. Everyone had now looked at the papers Aubrey had handed to Phillips.
‘I think there is a chance. It will take some time, but I think it can be done. But I have to ask you to be patient, and I have to ask you to wait until he has paid back his loan to the syndicate.’
‘Why should we wait?’ Cohn asked indignantly.
‘Because the syndicate won’t wait,’ Aubrey replied, ‘and if they get to him first, you’ll never get a penny.’
Cohn was shaking his head.
‘Look. I understand how you must feel. I know how I would feel if it had happened to me. I would want to go straight to the police.’
‘That’s exactly what we should do,’ Weatherall said.
‘But if you do that, you will never see your money, I can promise you that. Conrad will face ruin and bankruptcy. He will be removed from the bench, and the chances are he will end up in prison. That doesn’t do anyone any good.’
He took advantage of a hesitation as the barristers looked at each other grimly.
‘I hope the reason I’m asking you to wait is obvious enough. If Conrad doesn’t pay the syndicate immediately, they will take action. He’s already received threats, and these people are very unpleasant. He will come to harm, probably serious harm. It’s not inconceivable that he may end up dead. In any case, the whole thing will probably become public and, once again, he will be facing bankruptcy and ruin. He can’t pay you all at the same time. The syndicate has to come first: that’s a matter of survival.’
‘How long do you think it will take him to pay off this so-called syndicate?’ Phillips asked.
Aubrey shrugged. ‘I wish I could give you an answer to that, Stephen, but I can’t. I don’t know the precise figures involved. If it’s just a question of making regular payments, perhaps six months. I can’t see it being less than six months, but then again, I don’t know how much time the syndicate will give him. He can’t control that.
‘What I do ask you to accept is that he deeply regrets what he has done, and that he wants to make things right.’
‘He wants to avoid the consequences, more like,’ Reilly said.
‘Those two goals are not incompatible,’ Aubrey replied.
‘We can’t give you an answer now,’ Phillips said, after some time. ‘This is something we will have to discuss and think about carefully. Apart from anything else, it has repercussions for chambers. We will have to tell the solicitors concerned what has happened – hopefully before they find out for themselves – and it could do a good deal of harm to our reputation.’
‘I understand that, Stephen,’ Aubrey said. ‘But the best news you can give the solicitors is that you are on top of the situation and that you are taking steps to bring it under control, to make sure such a thing never happens again.’
‘How does it help Conrad, even if we agree to this?’ Cohn asked. ‘We can’t avoid telling the solicitors who it was that stole from us and, even if we could, they could easily find out for themselves. So it’s all going to become public anyway.’
Weatherall nodded. ‘I agree. It can’t remain a secret.’
‘I disagree,’ Aubrey replied. ‘Any experienced clerk can explain what happened as an accounting error. Members of chambers often write each other cheques, or endorse cheques to each other, for work done on a case, and there’s nothing surprising about Conrad continuing to receive fees for work he did before he became a judge. It can be done. The question is whether you are willing to do it.’
Phillips was nodding.
‘If this becomes public,’ Aubrey added, ‘it won’t be good for your chambers, any more than it will for Conrad.’
‘We will think about it and let you know,’ Phillips said.
‘Thank you,’ Aubrey said. ‘There’s one more thing. I don’t have a lot of time. The syndicate is going to come calling any day now. I don’t know how long Conrad can hold them off. Any delay at all, and it may be too late.’
Phillips sighed deeply.
‘How late will you be in chambers tonight?’ he asked.
‘As late as necessary,’ Aubrey replied.