by Abi Silver
‘Thank you. We will. Would you have any objection to us speaking to your wife also?’ Constance asked.
‘I don’t speak for Martine,’ he replied. ‘I’ll send you her number and you can ask her yourself.’
***
Judith and Constance sat in Constance’s car in James’ driveway.
‘He still doesn’t remember the accident then?’ Judith began.
‘No,’ Constance murmured. ‘You don’t believe him?’
‘It’s so convenient, isn’t it? I know! I should keep an open mind.’
Constance started up the engine and began to turn the car around. As they headed out, the security man was inspecting a camera above the gates. He stood back to let them pass.
‘Although, unless we can blame the crash on some malfunctioning component made by another manufacturer,’ Judith continued, ‘hopefully in a far-off and inaccessible land, preferably with no rules about assisting courts in a foreign jurisdiction, either James goes down personally or his company takes the blame. A modern-day manifestation of the Scylla and Charybdis dilemma.’
‘Is that Latin again?’
‘Apologies. I forgot your lack of a classical education. It roughly translates to between a rock and a hard place,’ Judith said.
‘What will our defence be, if he was driving?’
‘Yes, interesting he was prepared to concede that one unprompted. What did he say?’
‘Something like he “must have been in manual mode”, because there was no other explanation for the accident.’
‘Yes. So he has already appreciated the point. Remember he doesn’t go down just because he was driving. There has to be a dangerous element too. From what I’ve seen so far, James doesn’t strike me as the reckless kind. There are other things we should keep an open mind about too.’
‘What things?’
‘You know I’m always suspicious. This is new technology. Something major could genuinely have malfunctioned. That could be the other explanation and he wouldn’t necessarily want us to know about it.’
‘How will we find out?
‘Well that data he’s talking about might show us. And although it was incredibly irritating to be told that he wanted the court application to be done quickly when he was rushing off elsewhere, he is right on that point.’
‘I’ve arranged to see the car this afternoon. Then I’ll send you the papers for the application; they’re nearly ready. Is it always like this with professional clients? You know – they want everything.’
‘That’s one reason I left it all behind. Not only do they want everything, they want it yesterday.’
‘Are you still doing your mediation training?’
‘Not training. I am a fully-fledged, accredited mediator and gaining hours, days, weeks of experience.’
‘How is it?’
‘Tedious – there’s lots of sitting around, but tinged with moments of sheer brilliance and genius.’
‘Yours or theirs?’
‘Both, if I’m being generous. And the smiles on their faces are a joy to behold when we shake hands, usually around midnight.’
‘You like it then?’
Judith shrugged. ‘I like this better,’ she said.
‘Do you want me to call the assistant at the SEDA factory?’
‘Oh yes. I think that visit will be most enlightening. I’m looking forward to it already.’
***
After Judith and Constance had left his house, James sat down in his armchair, rested his pounding head and closed his eyes. ‘Fifteen years.’ This was some fix he was in, but if he just remained calm and controlled and thought positive thoughts, that would provide the best opportunity for getting through it.
After a few minutes of deep breathing to relax his nerves, he messaged Toby.
Hi Toby. I know I’ve already asked, but I really need to see the full list of manufacturers whose parts went into the 2016 model and any problems we experienced with them, however small, asap. Thanks, James.
Then, he entered some text into the search engine on his phone. He read the first item which appeared, picked up his home phone, then discarded it in favour of his mobile. He was relieved when his call was picked up promptly.
‘Peter? It’s James, here...
Yes, good thanks...
No. I’m out of hospital now, thank you...
‘...Oh, sorry about that. The police kept my phone, so I had no idea. This is a new one...
‘...It’s a bit sensitive. It’s about my car. Can you talk?...
‘...Yes. Awful business. We’re all so upset. Martine especially...
‘...That’s just the thing. I have no memory. I wish I did, then I could sort this all out in a second. We have to rely on the EDR and the cameras, at least for now...
‘...Naturally, it’s of critical importance that we, at SEDA, get to the bottom of what really happened. And I imagine you feel the same, too...
‘...Yes. The thing is, if the police start digging around, we’re concerned they don’t have the appropriate technical expertise to reach the right conclusions. So my…solicitors are going to make an application to get access to the software. Thing is, the police have said they might oppose it. And that would jeopardise our chances of finding out what really happened...
‘...I thought you would. It’s in a police garage somewhere in East London. The officer is called Dawson, Hackney-based...
‘...That’s very generous. I knew you would understand the importance of a thorough examination by an expert and reaching the right conclusions...
‘...Yes. I’m getting a full list now of all the third parties whose parts went into the car...
‘...You’ll update me then. Thanks...
‘...No, I don’t think we need to postpone it. I’m not planning to lose my liberty any time soon. I’ll see you then if not before. Goodbye.’
Peter placed his phone face down on the table. He hadn’t appreciated that the police might have confiscated James’ mobile, which explained his inability to get hold of James till now, but was otherwise of no real importance. He had only called James a few times before giving up. If anyone asked, it was perfectly appropriate for Peter to have wanted to know how his friend was after such a terrible accident.
But James confessing to having no memory of the crash – that was interesting news and, as James had said, threw more importance onto the data and cameras. He should get onto that straight away. And maybe James would find his memory returning sooner than he expected. Peter liked to be optimistic.
38
THE MIDNIGHT blue SEDA was sitting in the corner of a police garage in Mile End. It was a large hatchback with alloy wheels, resembling a standard car in most respects, save for a particularly shiny chrome grille and the bulky apparatus on the roof, comprising roof bars and an elongated, laminated box with a cylindrical structure mounted on the top.
Constance circled the car slowly and noted the marks and dents. The damage on the driver’s side at the front was the most pronounced, the bumper compressed with an impressive semi-circular indentation, the bodywork rippled either side and there were deep scratches across the bonnet, too. The windscreen had not survived unscathed; cracks spread out like an intricate spider’s web from a central hollow and, when Constance stood on tiptoes and leaned closer, she could see fibres caught between the splintered shards. She also noticed two tiny cameras mounted on the dashboard, one at each side, facing forwards.
Then she turned her attention to the tyres, finding the front right deflated. There was a dark, smeary substance covering the front left, together with a small piece of blue shiny-cotton material, probably part of an item of clothing.
‘You can’t touch it,’ the policeman, who accompanied her, announced.
‘Thank you. You’ve said that, and I heard you.’
/> ‘I’m just doing my job.’
She peered in through the driver’s side window. There was a steering wheel, as James had said, and two or three buttons on the dashboard and a screen which could be for the radio or GPS. Constance thought she could see two foot pedals, which she assumed were the accelerator and brake for the manual mode function. Other than that, the interior of the car was devoid of gadgets and glaringly empty. She walked around it a few times, taking photographs. The apparatus on the roof intrigued her the most.
‘Who’s examined the car?’ she asked.
‘Usual team did finger printing and DNA checks and looked it over,’ the policeman replied, leaning close in, to attempt to see for himself what Constance was finding so interesting.
‘But it hasn’t been cleaned up yet?’
‘I don’t know anything about that. They’re coming back. That’s why we have to preserve it. And why no one can touch it.’
‘No one has examined the car who knows anything about computers or these kind of cars?’
‘You’ll have to ask Chief Inspector Dawson. He’s in charge. But I don’t think anyone special has been round.’
‘Are you here every day?’
‘Yes, but we close up at six, and not weekends.’
‘Has anyone been in and taken anything away from the vehicle?’
‘Not while I’ve been here. Inspector Dawson told me no one is to touch it and that’s how it’s been on my watch.’
‘Do you have the key?’
‘In the office.’
‘Any chance you could bring it over?’
‘You’re not allowed in the car, Miss.’
‘I know, but if we can just unlock it, then the lights will come on and I can see inside more easily, without opening the doors. I wouldn’t be touching it.’
The policeman collected the key and, as Constance had hoped, as they returned to within two metres of the car, the doors unlocked automatically and the interior was flooded with light.
‘Hello this is VERA, your voice-activated, enhanced, road-experience assistant. How can I help you?’ They could hear VERA’s dulcet tones from outside the car.
The policeman quickly pressed the key fob to lock the doors again.
‘I told you we shouldn’t touch it. I’ll get in trouble for this,’ he said.
‘We haven’t touched the car,’ Constance said, hurrying to the driver’s side to look inside again, with the benefit of the rapidly receding light. ‘Don’t worry.’
Constance took some photographs of the very empty interior, including the blood-spattered airbag, now hanging limp and flaccid from the centre of the steering wheel.
‘I didn’t know it spoke,’ the policeman said. ‘That’s the computer then?’
‘I think so.’
‘Look, have you finished yet? There can’t be much else for you to see.’
‘Thank you and goodbye,’ VERA intoned, before powering down. The lights inside the car were extinguished.
The policeman shivered.
‘I wish you hadn’t made me do that,’ he confessed. ‘All that talking. Gives me the creeps.’
39
MARTINE SALISBURY marched up to Constance and Judith, tossed her chestnut mane to one side and spread her shopping bags on the floor under the table.
‘Hi, I’m Martine,’ she announced loudly. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. They were short-staffed in Selfridges. I knew I should have gone to Oxford Street. This one can’t really compete but, there you are.’
‘No need to apologise. We were quite happy here watching the world go by,’ Judith replied. ‘We seldom get the opportunity. I’m Judith and this is Constance. We’re advising your husband on his car accident.’
‘I know who you are, although I’m not sure I can help. I wasn’t there. I thought you spoke to James?’
‘We did, but then he had to rush off and we had some general questions about timing. We thought you might be able to answer them, save bothering your husband again.’
‘Fire away. I needed a break. Shopping can be exhausting, you know.’
‘You have a SEDA car also?’ Judith began, nudging the nearest shopping bag away with her leg.
‘Yes. We all do, me, James and Joshua, my eldest son.’
‘Do you enjoy driving your car?’
Martine leaned forward and smiled, revealing a perfectly white regiment of teeth.
‘Is that a trick question?’ she asked.
‘It’s not supposed to be.’
‘OK. Sorry, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I don’t drive it, you see. That’s the whole point.’
‘How long have you been driven around by your current vehicle?’ Judith re-took control of the questions.
‘I’ve had this car a few months. I had another SEDA before that, the same model as James’.’
‘And have you had any accidents?’
‘Not in the SEDA. Before that, I was a bit accident-prone. James was cross. I find it hard to concentrate on the road sometimes, when there are so many other things going on.’
‘Near misses?’
‘No. Not in the SEDA.’
‘Are there any concerns you have about autonomous vehicles?’
‘Only how long it’s taking to get them onto our roads. James has been working on this for, what, nearly fifteen years. He says we could have been at this stage at least five years earlier.’
‘What’s holding things up?’
‘Lawyers, always picking over things. The government has this legal department, James says they should all be shot, well, he finds them…frustrating.’
‘What kind of issues are the lawyers raising?’
Martine turned to Constance and tapped her lightly on the arm.
‘Could I have a coffee do you think? Latte, with a shot of hazelnut. Thanks.’
Had Martine still been looking in Constance’s direction when her request landed, she might well have been turned to stone. As it was, she was already engaging with Judith again when Constance rose stiffly and headed off to the counter. ‘I think I’ll leave my husband to talk about that,’ Martine continued. ‘Wouldn’t want to get things wrong on such an important matter. I don’t talk business, well not his, anyway.’
‘Has your husband ever lost his memory before?’ Judith asked.
‘No, of course not.’
‘And he’s generally in good health?’
‘He’s very fit.’
‘No problems with eyesight, that kind of thing.’
‘Look, these are really things you need to ask him. But there’s nothing I know about.’
‘And are you employed at the moment?’
‘I go to a homeless shelter in Camden and help make lunch or dinner.’
‘Is that a regular occurrence?’
‘Tuesdays and Wednesdays.’
‘You don’t have any paid employment?’
Martine glanced over her shoulder and reached up for her coffee as Constance returned.
‘I don’t see what that’s got to do with James’ car crashing,’ she said.
‘We like to build up a profile of our client; family, background. Sometimes the tiniest fact can be material. You don’t have to answer any of our questions if you don’t feel comfortable.’
Martine took a sip from her syrup-infused coffee.
‘No, it’s all right. I’m a model, a fashion model. I used to do competitions. I held some titles. I still get offered some work but I can’t always fit it in.’
‘I imagine it’s a difficult profession to dip in and out of.’
Martine shrugged.
‘Does anyone else drive James’ car?’
‘No!’
‘You seem very certain.’
‘He doesn’t like anyone else to touch it. Actually, he help
ed build it. He’s very handy. He likes to do things like that, if he has the time.’
‘Your husband told us his car wasn’t garaged. Who has access to your house, other than family?’
‘We have a housekeeper, Lina.’
‘Any other workmen come by?’ Judith asked.
‘The security guys, once a month, to check everything, the cameras, the alarm.’
‘Ah yes. McQueen’s’
‘How did you know that?’
‘We saw the van when we were at your house. You have a lot of cameras.’
‘James worries about me, when he’s away. I didn’t like them at first, but now I’m used to them. It makes him feel better, knowing I’m safe.’
‘I would have thought you would be comfortable with cameras, given your profession?’
Martine looked from Judith to Constance. ‘It’s not the same as when I’m working. Everyone needs some privacy, don’t they?’
‘Does anyone else visit your house regularly?’
‘Waitrose delivery. They ring and we buzz them in.’
‘Is it possible that any of these visitors could have tampered with your husband’s car?’
‘Is that what you think happened?’ Martine leaned forward onto the table.
‘It’s not likely, but we’re considering every option. We haven’t yet got access to the car, you see, to check whether it malfunctioned or not.’
‘OK, so it is possible. Lots of people come and go, when I’m not there. Lina lets them in. Dean could check the film on the security cameras on the gates, if you wanted, check who’s been in. I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘Dean?’
‘McQueen, the security man.’
‘I see.’ Judith stifled a smirk. ‘What about your sons?’
‘Joshua does his own thing. He stays at friends a lot.’
And your other son?’
‘Zac, my youngest, he’s away most of the time.’
‘Away?’
‘At school. He’s only home a few weeks a year.’ Martine took another sip.
