Reluctant Consent

by Margaret Barnes

  ‘What made you decide they were telling lies?’

  ‘The time. They’d come straight from school, it seemed unlikely they’d been home, or seen their parents.’

  Montgomery was tapping the edge of the jury box, just as Marcus planned, Cassie thought.

  ‘Not because of their colour?’

  ‘Whatever the colour I wouldn’t have believed they wanted the cigarettes for their mum or dad.’

  ‘If they had been white, would you have decided they were lying?’

  Montgomery paused. ‘I think so. It’s not happened so I don’t know.’

  ‘Are you saying you have not had any problems with the white pupils?’

  ‘Not as often and usually only if they come in with black kids.’

  ‘Let’s go back to this incident. At what point did you tell them to leave?’

  ‘When they began to call me names, after I refused to sell them cigarettes.’

  ‘That was when you called them black bastards and niggers?’

  ‘They didn’t seem very upset by me swearing at them. They were calling me names. I’d had enough.’

  ‘So you picked up the golf club?’

  ‘They’re big lads. Bigger than me. I wanted them out of my shop. They weren’t for going, so I thought I’d give them a reason to leave.’ Montgomery began to rock backwards and forwards and his hands gripped tightly on the edge of the witness box.

  ‘And they did leave?’

  ‘They got to the door.’

  ‘Outside on the street?’

  ‘They were standing round the door.’

  ‘Were they still swearing at you?’

  ‘No, I don’t think they were. But I saw the knife.’

  ‘Were you swearing at them?’

  ‘There was a knife.’

  ‘You were inside the shop. The boys were outside?’

  Montgomery stared at Marcus Pike before answering, ‘I’ve said so.’

  ‘One of them with a knife? Are you sure of that?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I’m not a liar.’

  ‘Why not step back into the shop and close the door?’

  ‘Because, because I didn’t. I didn’t want to give way. I didn’t know what they’d do.’

  ‘You didn’t want to give way. You wanted to show them who was boss?’

  ‘I thought they might try and rush the door before I could close it.’

  ‘You didn’t want to let the niggers, as you would say, have it their way, did you?’

  ‘I just saw the knife.’

  ‘You thought they were black bastards and you were going to deal with them.’

  ‘I don’t like them. They are a nuisance, don’t work, steal, take drugs, beat people up. I wasn’t going to be another one of their victims.’ Montgomery was breathing heavily and his eyes looked as if they were popping out of his head.

  ‘So you hit out at them?’

  Now Montgomery was red in the face, the knuckles of his clenched hands white. He half raised his fist and leaned forward, as if he was about to punch somebody.

  Montgomery closed his eyes and pulled himself up. ‘I hit out to get the knife out of the lad’s hand. I did not want to be stabbed by him. There were three of the black bastards. I wanted to make sure they didn’t get to me.’

  ‘You could have closed the door and telephoned for the police?’

  ‘By the time the police arrived, they’d have scarpered.’

  ‘That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? They would go away?’

  ‘I wanted them to leave. I wasn’t going to turn my back on them.’

  ‘Why not back away from them and then close the door?’

  ‘I didn’t think of that. I don’t know.’

  ‘You were angry, weren’t you? Very angry?’

  Montgomery said nothing.

  Marcus continued, ‘You saw what you thought was a knife, but instead of stepping back and closing the door, you struck out at them? You were swinging that golf club around, hitting out. You didn’t care who you hit. Wanted to teach them a lesson. Wasn’t that what happened?’

  Montgomery leaned forward and glared at Marcus. ‘I thought I was going to get hurt. That’s what people like them do. Use a knife on anyone who gets in their way. That’s why I swung the golf club. It was me or them.’

  Marcus had changed tack with Montgomery. For some reason, Cassie wasn’t sure why, he thought the jury would believe Loveday had a knife, so he was concentrating on the reasons for the defendant striking out and whether he could have escaped being hurt by retreating into the shop.

  She decided not to re-examine Montgomery; he had stood up well to Marcus’s questioning. The case would turn on whether the jury thought her client had acted in self-defence.

  Chapter 36

  Judge Crabtree adjourned after Montgomery had given evidence. Cassie went back to the Temple to wait for the chambers meeting to begin. While she waited, she sorted out her post and tried to tidy her desk. A telephone call from Alex annoyed her; she wasn’t an informer. She returned a few unwashed mugs to the kitchen, shredded a number of papers and put some receipts in a file for her accountant, but her mind wandered to the reason for Richard calling all the tenants together. Their Head of Chambers was not known for his interest in the views of the more junior members; he had always considered the set of rooms they rented, the clerks and the rest of the barristers, his own personal fiefdom. Nor was he particularly concerned about the efficiency of the clerking team. Had he finally realised, over the last few weeks, the murmurings about the collection of fees had risen to a crescendo? Did he know or care that the squeeze on Legal Aid had resulted in a sharp decline in incomes, particularly for the more junior members? Then there was disquiet about the distribution of work. Cassie knew she was lucky; Jack seemed able to secure some good cases for her. Some of the other female tenants didn’t do so well. Some were keen to expand their work into different and more lucrative areas than crime; barristers doing Legal Aid work weren’t called ‘the worthies’ for nothing. But Cassie loved the courtroom, the preparation for cross examination, composing and delivering speeches to the jury. Acting as she saw it for the individual against the might of the state. She wanted to continue doing that kind of work. She appreciated Jack’s efforts on her behalf. She knew he hoped she would apply for and become Queen’s Counsel. She was ambitious and she did want to take Silk. There were downsides to being elevated to one of Her Majesty’s counsel; being sent to different courts all over the country sometimes for weeks or months on end was one. She knew it interfered with marriages and family life, but unless she and Ben …

  Stephen stuck his head round the door. ‘I think Jack’s a bit pissed off about this meeting. He’s wandering around downstairs like he’s lost his wallet. Eleanor suggested he went home and he plonked down at his desk and told her that as she was grumbling about fees, he had decided to check on whether there was something wrong with the accounts process.’

  ‘On a Friday night?’

  ‘Quite, he’s usually in the Cheshire by now, crowing over how much work he’s brought into chambers. Anyway, this meeting is about to start. Coming?’

  Cassie picked up her handbag and followed Stephen to the library.

  Richard Jago was pouring out the Champagne when Cassie and Stephen wandered into the already crowded room. Stephen leant towards Cassie and whispered, ‘Amazing what the offer of champers will dig out of the woodwork.’

  Cassie grimaced, pushing her way to the other side where she had spotted a vacant chair. She leant back against the library shelves and looked round. Stephen was right – nearly every tenant was there, including Oscar Davenport. Cassie was troubled by what she had seen in the Devereux Arms the week before. She was sure Roger had given Oscar something else besides a brief. She turned her attention to the Head of Chambers.

  ‘Right, I think we can begin. Has everyone got a drink? Now, I’ve heard some of you are troubled by the delay in fees being paid,’ Richard said. There was a murmur
as a number of tenants signified their agreement. ‘I’ve spoken to Jack and he tells me he believes the problem lies with the Legal Aid.’

  ‘It isn’t just Legal Aided work. I’ve got a couple of private cases,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘That’s down to the solicitors and we all know what they’re like. Hang on to the money as long as they can,’ Richard said.

  Someone said, ‘The same goes for the government.’ At that a chortle rippled round the room.

  Eleanor looked round and scowled before shaking her head. ‘If we don’t get paid it impacts on the payment of rents and Jack’s percentage. Then there’s VAT and tax bills to pay as well.’

  ‘I haven’t heard Jack grumbling about not getting paid.’ Richard remained largely unruffled.

  Eleanor snapped back, ‘That’s because he gets so much he doesn’t notice if he hasn’t had a few hundred.’

  Richard smoothed the leg of his Savile Row dark grey suit, but he showed no other sign of concern, as Eleanor continued to argue. Suddenly a large number of the tenants were speaking at the same time, some of the them supporting Eleanor about the fees. One or two said chambers should be discussing the development of their practices.

  ‘What are you suggesting. Do you want to replace Jack as our clerk and if so, who is to be clerk in his place?’ Richard said.

  The room went silent and then Eleanor said, ‘We can’t afford to go on paying such a large percentage to him.’

  ‘He contributes to the expenses, particularly the other clerks,’ Richard said.

  ‘A fees clerk who doesn’t chase our fees. Or are they sitting in chambers’ account?’

  Richard was unruffled. ‘Do we want to replace Jack? I know he will not accept a reduction in his percentage.’ He was right to be confident; although a number of Cassie’s colleagues agreed with Eleanor, no one wanted to change the clerking arrangements or cause a rift in the set. ‘Right now we’ve settled that. Drugs. As some of you may know, it appears that a wrap of, I think, cocaine, was brought into chambers some weeks ago. We don’t know who did that, indeed it may not have been any tenant or member of staff, but I do not want to hear of this happening again. Anyone caught with any drugs in chambers will be forced to relinquish his or her tenancy. Now, unless there is anything else …’ There was a momentary silence and then everyone began talking except for Oscar who left immediately. Richard picked up a bottle of wine and began filling the glasses of those closest to him.

  As the meeting broke up both James and Stephen asked Cassie if she wanted to join them for a drink in the Devereux Arms.

  ‘Not tonight, I’ve things to do.’ When she saw the disbelief in their faces, she added, ‘Seriously, I wouldn’t be very good company.’

  As she left the entrance to 3 Burke Court and was about to turn right towards Fleet Street, she saw the figure of a man standing by the covered archway alongside Brick Court. His collar was up, partially hiding his face. The lighting was dim in Middle Temple Lane, but something about his posture made her think he was waiting for someone. She paused and continued to peer into the dark trying to discern the face, but he moved back further into the shadows towards Middle Temple Hall, as if he had seen her observing him. It crossed her mind that the unknown male had been waiting for her and that he must be Malcolm Delaney, but the figure made no move towards her. She wanted to run, but instead turned back north and quickened her pace to the gate at the top of the lane, listening for footsteps in case she was followed. The large wooden gates, open during the day, were closed so she moved to the side, under the jetted upper floor of the gents’ outfitters and out of sight of anyone standing in the main thoroughfare, opened the pedestrian gate and stepped out of the eighteenth century and into the lights and noise of twenty-first century London.

  Within minutes of getting home, Cassie’s mobile pinged the arrival of an email. She pulled the phone from her bag and looked at the message.

  ‘Have a good weekend before I come looking for you!! Delaney’

  Chapter 37

  Alex didn’t wake up until 10 a.m. She felt groggy after three nights with very little sleep. She wouldn’t have come to then but for her mobile ringing. She reached out for the phone on her bedside table and squinted at the screen. The call was from her father.

  ‘I thought you might like to come and have lunch with me some time. Now the flat is furnished.’

  ‘I’d love to, but I’m really tied up at the moment.’

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘We’ve been on surveillance for three days and I haven’t had much sleep.’

  ‘What about the weekend? Saturday.’

  ‘That sounds fine. You’ll send me the address? Text.’

  ‘Of course. See you then about noon.’

  Before she could say anything else the line went dead. There was no point in trying to contact Cassie at this hour, she would be in court.

  She waited until five before ringing Cassie. ‘I’m very sorry about this. The guvnor has asked me to …’

  ‘To what?’

  ‘Do you have Oscar Davenport’s telephone numbers? Home and mobile.’

  ‘Why? What do you need them for?’

  ‘Do you have them?’

  ‘Alex, I’m not giving out the contact details of other members of chambers.’

  ‘I know it seems disloyal, but it would help our investigations into the source of the drugs Hales had.’

  ‘Are you suggesting he got them from Oscar, or …’

  ‘Look, you said you’d been told the drugs came from an address in Cotburn Mews. That is right. And Davenport lives there.’

  ‘What are you saying? I don’t imagine for one moment Oscar would be involved in the supply of drugs, or indeed use them.’

  ‘Last night a van containing over two kilos of coke drove into the mews. The driver and his mate have been arrested. Now it’s probably just a coincidence but as we were moving away from the scene Davenport came to the door of his cottage.’

  ‘I’m sure it was a coincidence.’

  ‘We need to eliminate him from our enquiries …’

  ‘You want to check his phone numbers against those on the suspects’ mobiles?’

  ‘Exactly. We can get them from the usual channels but that will take some time and we may have to arrest your friend.’

  Cassie said nothing.

  ‘Cassie, Cassie are you there?’

  ‘I’ll think about it. I’ll have to find the list of numbers in chambers. I don’t have it with me. And I have a meeting this evening. You’ll have to wait.’

  There was silence. Cassie had terminated the call.

  Alex rang the station and asked to speak to DCI Saltburn. She told him she had failed to get the information he wanted. ‘But I have another idea,’ she said.

  Back home she dressed in her black leathers and rode her Ducati to the Temple. It was a fine summer’s evening and the roads weren’t too busy going east. She zoomed along the Bayswater Road, round Marble Arch and down Park Lane. She had to slow up at Hyde Park Corner but she was enjoying riding her bike, something she hadn’t been able to do for some time. Her last free day she’d gone to have lunch with her mother and didn’t dare turn up in her leathers. Constitution Hill was quiet and then, just for fun, she went twice around the statue of Victoria before navigating Birdcage Walk, into Parliament Square and on to the Embankment. As she was parking her bike in Arundel Street, she searched her memory for the pubs and wine bars Cassie had spoken about. She didn’t pay at the meter; if she was booked she’d get the DCI to fix it. She took off her helmet and let her blonde hair fall loose.

  The first pub she came to was the Cheshire Cheese. The bar was small and she didn’t recognise any of the drinkers, so she walked up Milford Lane towards Fleet Street. A little way east along the Strand and facing the Church of St Clement Danes was Daley’s Wine Bar. It was very busy and it took Alex a little time to check the person she was looking for wasn’t there. A man dressed in the dark suited uniform of a la
wyer tried to speak to her, but she sidestepped him and left.

  She didn’t know where to go from there. Further down Essex Street she could see the sign of The Edgar Wallace. She walked towards it, peeked inside but again there was no one she recognised. The Edgar Wallace was on the corner of Essex Street and an alleyway, Little Essex Street. At the entrance to the pedestrian walkway she could see another public house. She walked towards it. The sign swinging above the door identified it as the Devereux Arms. She stepped inside, looked around and standing at the bar clutching a pint glass was someone she recognised, Stephen Burnett. He looked towards her and smiled. Then he pushed through the crowd towards her. ‘Alex Seymour, isn’t it?’

  She nodded. He asked her if he could get her a drink. ‘Soda and lime, please.’ She looked at her leathers.

  ‘Sure.’

  Once they both had a glass in their hands he motioned her towards a table that had just become vacant. ‘You ride a bike?’

  ‘A Ducati 848.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘No. Not my thing. Prefer something less exposed to the elements. Anyway, what brings you here? Seeing counsel in a case?’

  ‘No, actually I was hoping to meet Oscar.’ She hadn’t meant to say that; it implied she had arranged to meet him. She hadn’t anticipated Stephen Burnett being there when, and if, she saw Davenport. She had hoped to make their meeting accidental.

  ‘Oscar. I didn’t know you knew him.’

  ‘I met him when I was here a couple of weeks ago. I spoke to Cassie about …’

  ‘Roger and the great drug mystery.’ Stephen sat back and tipped his chair onto its back legs. Alex suddenly felt uncomfortable. He was scrutinising her, trying to assess her and what she did or didn’t know. Suddenly he let the chair down with a crack. ‘Well, here he is.’ Alex turned and across the room she saw Oscar Davenport.

  Stephen Burnett called out, ‘Oscar.’

  Davenport acknowledged them, got himself a drink and came over to their table.