by David Adkins
“The first was your lawyer, James Butler. I assured him you were well. He said he would take no action with regard to your imprisonment until we drew closer to the time of the trial of Lucas next Friday. He wanted you out before then but in the meantime he would adhere to your wishes.”
“Good, he realizes Smith is in the process of offering me a deal.”
Solcombe raised his eyebrows. “Your second visitor was your girlfriend, Cassie Mitchell. She was concerned about your welfare. I assured her too that we were treating you well but you were not allowed visitors. She said to tell you that she had got bored and decided to come into London.”
I was a little concerned about her safety, but my concern was alleviated by the knowledge that Smith even if he found her would be unlikely to do anything to her when we were in the process of reaching an agreement. He also knew about the George Inn anyway so her visit to London was now of little consequence. “Did she say anything else?”
Solcombe considered for a moment. “She said she was going to see Max Lucas.”
It also seemed to me there was no harm in Cassie visiting Lucas. “Thank you Martin. I really appreciate your help.”
“Of course. I knew there was something fishy about this case…” He studied me for a moment. “But I’m pretty sure if I asked, you couldn’t tell me anything, right?” My silence was answer enough and he nodded and sighed. “Enjoy your dinner.” He left and closed the door behind him and I faced another lonely evening in my bare cell and another restless night on my uncomfortable bed.
*
I was called from my cell the next morning before breakfast. I had been awake for a couple of hours just lying on my bunk looking up at the dirty, white ceiling and contemplating the start of the weekend. The constable opened the door of my cell and peered in. “Mr Smith wants to speak with you.”
“What time is it?” I asked.
“It has just gone eight o’clock,” he replied.
I quickly pulled on a few clothes for I had not yet bothered to dress and shuffled down the corridor after him. He ushered me into the interview room where Smith was alone waiting for me. “Sorry to disturb your sleep,” he smiled mirthlessly.
“I hope it is to tell me I am being released.”
“Sorry, Steve, I can’t do that yet.”
“Is this some kind of power game? Is my incarceration some sort of show of your authority? If so it is wasted on me.”
“There may be a hint of that in it,” he smiled. “However, my main purpose is to keep you under lock and key until we have managed to negotiate an agreement. I cannot release you until I am sure of your commitment to silence.”
“Can we reach that agreement then?” I suggested.
“The sticking point is your £55,000. I have the agreement of my superior officer but he has to get further agreement from his superiors and that is what I am waiting for. You may have to accept less.”
“It seems that Clement Attlee himself must approve my pay off. You had better tell him I wanted £100,000 and £55,000 is as low as I am prepared to go.”
He grit his teeth. “I have recommended that sum.”
Pushing back his chair, he said, “You’re time here will be made more comfortable.”
I called out to him before he could reach the door. “I appreciate you civil servants are busy people, but I need an answer within the next few days or I will not be able to stop James Butler from going public. We also have the Max Lucas trial next Friday to consider.”
“I hope that is not a threat.”
“It is a statement of fact,” I corrected him.
“I am aware of all this, Steve. I will make sure I get an answer in the next few days. I am as keen to get this sorted as you are.”
Smith shouted towards the door. “Constable, take Coulson back to his cell.”
The discussion had been terminated and I had not had the chance to ask about phone calls or visitors. I guess it did not matter for a couple of days. It was a small price to pay if my demands were met. I trooped back to my cell to return to the utter boredom of solitary confinement where my only company were my own thoughts and deliberations.
*
I spent the entire weekend in my cell. There was an attempt to make my confinement more comfortable as Smith had promised, but it was not much. They did allow me out twice into the yard under supervision to exercise. It at least gave me time to work off some of my frustrations and the food also continued to improve a little — or perhaps I just got used to it. The only conversation I had was when Martin Solcombe dropped by a few times in an attempt to ease my boredom with friendly chat.
On Sunday morning I had a visit to my cell by a police artist and I helped him with a sketch of the dark-haired woman, the process of which I found a trifle amusing. I was deliberately not too helpful and the final image we arrived at did not look much like Jenna at all and certainly did not do her justice. She would never be identified by that rather hopeless attempt at a likeness. Solcombe also told me that I had had no further phone calls or visitors. The food, despite the improvement, remained poor and the accommodation was worse. I was growing more angry and frustrated when at last on Monday around lunch I was informed Smith had returned and wanted to see me again.
A young constable led me down the corridor and back yet again to the now familiar interview room. “Sit down, Mr Coulson, Mr Smith will be along in a minute,” he informed me.
This time I was waiting for Smith. About ten minutes passed before Smith entered the room and sat down opposite me. He carried a document and placed it on the table face down. “I am sorry to keep you waiting, Steve but I believe you will think the wait was worthwhile as I am the bearer of good news.”
“Then you had better tell me,” I suggested.
“The wheels of government run exceedingly slow at times especially where money is concerned but I have got a result. The grant to you of £55,000 has been approved.”
I felt a sense of elation. “Good news indeed,” I responded.
“Now we must go over the terms again before you sign the necessary document.”
I was tempted to ask what the document was but I let him continue.
“We agreed that you and James Butler would represent Max Lucas in court. There will be no reference on your part to the past of Nesterman and Deepdale or their German heritage. Who the girl was and who she represented will also remain a mystery. The motive will remain simple robbery. She picked Nesterman up and went back to his flat with him where she murdered him. There will be no reference to Deepdale at the trial and his murder like Nestermans will remain as far as the public is concerned an independent unsolved crime. We will attempt to quietly hunt her down and eliminate her but that need not concern you for by then you will be living abroad.”
“I agree to all that,” I responded.
“You will leave the country as soon as possible after the trial is over and you have received your money so that you are out of reach of difficult and consistent questions from interested parties.”
“Agreed, but what about Lucas?” I asked.
“When he is questioned in court he can add no more to what he has already told the police.”
I nodded. “We can save Lucas and your secret will not come out.”
“After the trial I will personally deliver a cheque for £55,000. That leaves just one more thing.” He turned over the document on the table. “It is a modified version of the Official Secrets Act, specially modified for you. My unit insists you sign it so you had better read it.”
I read through the document while Smith looked on. There was nothing in it to alarm me too much. It made it clear that if I divulged national secrets I would be arrested immediately, but I expected that anyway. I pushed it back to him. “Bring the document when you bring the cheque and I will sign it then.”
He nodded. “I don’t put too much stock in it anyway. I give you my word that if you break the agreement I will have you hunted down and eliminated no matter
what part of the planet you are residing in.”
“I will not break my word,” I assured him.
“And Steve? You only met the dark-haired woman once. You will not mention the Mayfair Hotel meeting or Tintree at the trial. I will try to ensure that you are not asked awkward questions but if you have to you will lie. Is that understood?”
“I understand completely,” I replied. I was not religious but the idea of lying while under oath did not rest easy on me.
“Then we are finished here. I will see you in your office when matters are concluded. I will probably not attend the Lucas trial for there is no need to grace the occasion with my presence. I will receive a full report on proceedings. You may go, Mr Coulson. You are a free man.”
I left Smith in the interview room and I shook hands with Deputy Chief Inspector Martin Solcombe as I left. “Thanks for making things a little more bearable for me over the past few days.”
“Good luck, Mr Coulson, I hope I don’t have you as a guest again.”
I smiled and walked out into Charing Cross Road. The ordeal was over and it seemed I had come out of it rather well. The case against Max Lucas had every chance of being dismissed and I would be a rich man living a better life, hopefully with Cassie Mitchell at my side. Despite my incarceration, my stride was jocular as I headed along the Strand towards my office.
It was 2.20 pm when I arrived at the office of Butler and Robinson. I needed to speak to James and phone Cassie. Jenny greeted me. “I am glad to see you back. We were all worried when we heard you were being held in Charing Cross Police Station.”
“It was just a misunderstanding,” I smiled. “Where is James?”
“He is at Pentonville seeing his client, Mr Lucas. He should be back in the office by about four.”
“I will wait for him at my desk.” Clearing a few scattered papers off my desk. I sat down and dialled the number for the George Inn.”
“George Inn Hotel,” the landlady answered.
“I would like to speak to Cassie Mitchell please.”
“She is no longer here.”
“When do you expect her back?”
“I don’t. She checked out and she is not coming back.”
“Did she say where she was going or where she was staying next?”
“I think she was going into London but I did not ask for details. It’s not my business,” she said with a sniff.
“Did she have any visitors recently?”
“I did not see any visitors after you.” She had recognized my voice again.
“Thank you,” I said and put the phone down pensively. I was surprised Cassie had left the George Inn permanently, but I was not worried for I knew she had returned to London. She would no doubt contact me as soon as she could. If she rang the police station, she would find out I had been released.
James returned to the office at just after three and looked extremely relieved to see me. “They have let you out at last. I was going to ring them again.”
“No need, James, I am a free man and the Lucas case is now our priority.”
“I have just been to see him. Lester Bruitt rang to tell me the case was now ours and he was no longer representing Max. He sounded far from happy and said he would not forget what had happened, but I warned him that he had better forget. I decided to visit Max immediately and go over his testimony with him.”
“You seem to have everything in hand, James.”
“Yes, it is all going very well. We have a witness from the Food Basket Restaurant and the barman you spoke to in Pete’s Bar has now also agreed to be a witness. I must say things are looking like a formality. Now tell me about your imprisonment and whether you have reached some sort of deal with Smith. I cannot help wondering what on earth is going on between you and him.”
“I have reached an agreement with him. I did not entirely like it, but there are compensations for me.” I saw his questioning look and sighed, sorry to keep the man who had been so helpful to me in the dark. “Part of the agreement is that I do not tell you or anyone else the content. I was happy to agree to that because telling you would put you in danger.”
“Are you not in danger then?” he asked.
“I am, but my plan is that after the trial I will leave the country permanently.”
James looked stunned. “Is that really necessary?” he gasped.
“It is, James. But now our priority is the trial and making sure an innocent man does not hang.”
He nodded. “I will miss you. You have been quite a good office manager.”
“I will miss you too but you have an excellent replacement for me in Jenny.”
He nodded. “That we do, but I will still miss you as a friend.”
I half-smiled, feeling a small pang of regret. “Me too.”
We agreed that everything relating to the trial was under control, so I took the opportunity to catch up on a little paperwork before returning home. I decided James had matters very much under control so I could take a day off to relax after my confinement. When I embarked from my train at Ladywell Station it was nearly 6.30 and I decided to call in at the George Inn. It proved a waste of time for there was no more the dragon could tell me about Cassie’s whereabouts. All I knew was that she had apparently returned to London. I spent all day Tuesday waiting for a phone call that never came. By the time I went to bed on Tuesday evening, I was beginning to worry because she had not contacted me, which seemed strange. However, after a day spent in my own home rather than in a harsh prison cell, I felt relaxed and ready to prepare for the trial despite my concerns about Cassie.
*
Wednesday was a good day. James had interviewed and instructed our witnesses, and he felt they were well prepared for their roles in court. The trial was scheduled for the Central Criminal Court with proceedings to begin in two days’ time. Happily, we thought we would be well prepared despite the shortage of time. The day was rounded off for me when I picked up an unexpected call at the office late that afternoon.
“Hello? Steve? It’s Cassie here.”
“Where have you been? I have been worried about you.”
“I got so bored at the George Inn. I didn’t know if I still needed to hide, but I couldn’t stand it any longer so I checked out. They wouldn’t let me visit you in your cell, so I went to see Max.”
“How was he?” I asked.
“He has greatly cheered up now that you and James Butler are on his case, though I did not tell him you were being held in custody. Why were you being held, Steve?”
“During the investigation I learnt something that the authorities wanted to keep secret. In exchange for my freedom, I have promised not to divulge it.” She opened her mouth to ask and I interrupted. “Don’t ask. I am not at liberty to say.”
“That is very mysterious. Was the cell terrible?”
“It was not much fun, but are you alright?”
“Yes, fine. Do you still think Max will be found to be innocent?”
“I am sure of it. They do not have enough evidence to convict him, especially in light of what we shall tell the jury.” I smiled as she sighed in relief. “Where are you staying?”
“I have gone back to my friend in Farnborough for a few days. I will come back to London tomorrow to see you. Will you be in your office?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “I look forward to seeing you.”
“Steve, I am so grateful for all that you have done for Max. I know it has not been easy and you have had to suffer, but I promise you I will make it up to you.”
“I will look forward to that too,” I smiled.
We said our goodbyes and ended the call. The rest of the day passed quickly and the trial grew ever closer. We were more than ready, but I was still feeling some anticipation. With even greater anticipation I looked forward to seeing Cassie again. It was in a mood of eager optimism that I left home for the office the next morning. My good mood was matched by the weather. It almost seemed as if spring had arrived, for the sky was bl
ue and the sun was warm and pleasant. In truth I had not had too much to do on the Lucas case for most matters were now being handled by James as the defending lawyer for Lucas. There had been little dedication to other work on my part because I knew that my days at Butler and Robinson were now numbered. I arrived at a fairly flippant 9.15 whereas in my more industrious days I was always in the office by 8 am. It was really now just a question of waiting for Cassie to arrive and doing a few bits of work.
In the morning I went over matters relating to the Lucas case and the papers we required. Jenny would be seated alongside James in the court acting as his assistant because as a witness I would have to wait in the witness waiting room. James had managed to get his hands on a copy of the medical report which showed that Max had certainly been hit on the head on the day of Nesterman’s murder. We therefore had proof that the wound was not an old wound as had been suggested by the police. We also had various witness statements including my own. I wondered on what the prosecution might build their case for at the moment it seemed to revolve around the one fact that Max was found in the room holding the knife and that could be explained away.
It was mid-afternoon when Cassie arrived and I had prematurely been starting to worry that she would not show up. “Use my office for a little privacy,” invited James, and we took him up on his offer.
“I cannot stay long,” said Cassie. “I promised to go and see all my friends at the Gaiety Theatre this afternoon.”
I felt a little disappointed for I had not seen her for about a week. “How about afterwards?” I suggested.
“No, I said I would go out with a few of the girls.”
“I see,” I said, a bit downcast that I did not take precedence.
“Don’t look so glum, Steve. While I am there I will get two tickets for the performance tomorrow evening. Perhaps we will be celebrating Max’s freedom. We could take in the theatre and then who knows.”
“I doubt it will end that quickly unless the judge throws the case out,” I smiled, feeling a bit happier. “It will be late for you to get back to Farnborough.”
“I will not be going back to Farnborough. This morning I went back to my old lodgings after phoning the landlady yesterday. I had asked the old dear if she had a room vacant. She said my old room had still not been rented out so I could have that. I moved in this morning though some of my stuff is still at Farnborough.”
