by Neil Wild
“I do apologise.” he said to Lisa and was about to leave the room when he did a double take.
He looked in amazement first at the girl, and then at Brakespeare, who could only offer a grin.
Recovering, he turned to Brakespeare, sounding quite angry.
“I’ve just had David on the ‘phone. He says that you were rude to him.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“Why? No, but he said that you shouted and swore at him.”
“I did. I told him that he was a selfish bastard because he didn’t have a word to say about Gordon Morrison. Instead all he was concerned with was his own sweet self.”
“He says that you were going to leave.”
Brakespeare paused as he saw Lisa’s face drop.
“That’s a misquotation. I said that for two pins I’d walk – because of his attitude.” “Good for you” contributed Lisa.
“Lisa, I don’t think…” interjected Mortimer.
“Well I’m afraid I do, “ replied Lisa. “If it wasn’t for Jonny, you wouldn’t be able to handle this case. That’s why you’ve got him. Gordon told me. It was a gamble for you to take on Jonny, with his history, but with Gordon incapacitated you’d have been lucky to find someone capable of dealing with the case, if at all. David knows that. Now Gordon’s gone, David knows it doesn’t really affect his defence, because Gordon was never really involved, yet if what Jonny says is true, he still can’t think of anyone other than himself. He’s the one who got himself into this mess, and it is a mess, and he’s like the man standing in front of the hot fire and wondering why his arse is burning!”
“Lisa!” exclaimed Mortimer.
“And I’ll tell you something else. I decided last night not to stay here. As soon as this case is finished I’m going to sit the Bar Examinations and see if I can get myself a pupillage with a barrister – and that’s thanks to Jonny. Mr David up-his-arse-Newberry is not the only one who should be grateful to him.”
Mortimer was totally stunned by this transformed woman attacking him.
“I think that we had better discuss all this later.” he muttered. “I’m sure that we’re all a little overwrought this morning.” He almost scuttled out of the room.
“Christ, now you’ve put the cat among the pigeons.” said Brakespeare.
“Well it’s about time we had a few home truths spelt out in this place. It’s all too cosy. Perhaps Newberry ought to go to another firm of solicitors who won’t feel the need to pussy foot around him.”
“I don’t think we’ve pussy footed.” protested Brakespeare. “I’ve told him that he’s up against it.”
“But still he behaves like a spoilt child, wanting attention all the time.”
Lisa was totally forceful in what she said. This was not the quiet mousy girl who Brakespeare had met a few weeks before. He looked at her with some wonder.
“Jonny, it’s the end of an era for me with Gordon’s death. I thought about it all yesterday evening and night. When I first went to Bristol University, everyone said that I would get to the top, whatever that meant, but as I told you, I lost all confidence. Here I know I was sheltering under Gordon’s wing. More than that in fact, I’ve been clinging on to him.”
She stood up straight.
“There, I’ve made my confession. I’ve changed my mind. A woman’s prerogative.”
She waited for a reaction but none was forthcoming. She could not see what Brakespeare could see. Margaret was standing in the door listening. Lisa continued.
“However it’s you, not Gordon who has given me my chance; given me the opportunity to show myself that I can be a lawyer; that my brain isn’t dead and full of girly dreams of being an old man’s darling.” Her face fell. “No that’s not fair on Gordon, but you know what I mean. So I’ve decided to stand on my own two feet. I want to finish this case with you, if you’ll let me, and then pick up the pieces and do what I always intended to do; become a barrister. I’ve only lost three years of my life, and what’s that when you’re young. I’m three years the wiser.”
She finished the speech which she had obviously previously prepared in her mind. Behind her Margaret seemed to be holding back tears. Surely not? Lisa began to look a little apprehensive as she waited for a response, but it came from Margaret who came forward and gently touched Lisa on the elbow. As Lisa turned to her, Margaret kissed her on the cheek. A mixture of horror and surprise filled Lisa’s face. Margaret smiled as if she half expected the reaction.
“Well done, dear.” She said. ”You’ve made the right decision. You’re far too good to be doing clerical work in a solicitors office. I can see that, and Mr. Morrison told me as much.”
“He did?”
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“Not in so many words.”
“Perhaps you weren’t listening dear. Perhaps you didn’t want to hear him.” Margaret smiled gently.
Lisa nodded quietly, and almost as if to herself murmured, “Maybe not, no.”
“Right,” said Brakespeare, and grinned. “Time to move forward. Margaret has some typing for you to do!”.
“What!”
Margaret gave Brakespeare a severe look. “Take no notice, dear,” she said to Lisa. “It’s just that you have what I think is called a mail merge on your computer, and we need to write to all the clients about Mr. Morrison’s death. It would be quicker than me trying to learn how to work it.”
Lisa understood immediately and allowed Margaret to lead her put of the room.
“We also need to do some work on Newberry, if you have time.” Brakespeare called out as they left the room. Lisa merely raised a hand in acknowledgement.
“Women” thought Brakespeare. Yesterday Margaret was showing an ill concealed dislike of the flower child, Lisa. Today the flower child had blossomed into a beautiful and dynamic young woman, and seemed to have acquired a best friend. Was his own relationship with Lisa going to change, and if so in what way?
He then remembered Newberry and felt his heart sink. The visit to Old Hill had opened up an exciting prospect for the case. They could now discredit the whole basis of the prosecution. A prosecution which had been brought simply to appease Clive Masters. A prosecution which seemed to have no moral, let alone legal foundation. Should he give in his notice and let Newberry to his fate? Whoever took it over would have the revitalised Lisa behind him? Behind him? Ahead of him surely.
Perhaps he owed it to Lisa to let her take over the conduct the defence. She certainly seemed capable of it. She knew her law; she could spot the cracks and flaws in the evidence, and she seemed to have made a friend in D.C. Durkin. What role was he going to play?
They were treading on dangerous ground. Whatever Durkin found, the C.P.S. Headquarters were never going to back down from Newberry’s prosecution. If they discovered that he and Lisa were behind any investigation, then there might be professional consequences, and with his track record with the Solicitors Regulation Authority, he could get struck off.
Perhaps he owed it to the firm to finish the case off. Whatever the partners motives, they had given him a job. A cynical view would be that they only did so because they knew that he would be so desperate for work that he would ignore the web of connections. But now that Morrison had gone, then they would need to keep their litigation department going, until a permanent successor had been found. Him?
He liked Worcester, but he was far from settled here. He just existed during the week. He didn’t feel able to join in any clubs or societies, because he didn’t know how long he would be here. He needed to see the children at weekends in Milton Keynes; that was where home was, although the goodbyes at the end of the contact periods made him feel empty and sad.
He didn’t have Mel any more. Her physical comforts always helped him forget his worries. Perhaps he should have treated more as a human and less as a sex object. But then did he want a permanent relationship with her? He didn’t really know Mel. She was bright in the streetwise sense, and no f
ool, but outside the bedcovers he did not know what interests they would share. Could they be soul mates? He doubted it.
Where or where was he going? To a funeral. God that was going to be fun. Did he really have to go. Lisa was going to be as welcomed by the family as much as a gastric virus on a holiday. He wouldn’t know anybody. Oh, and that arsehole Breezie would be there – and Newberry. Wonderful.
Was that the only reason they had invited him there, to occupy Lisa? Was he being used again? The funeral of a total stranger. He wouldn’t be going in any other circumstances. Or would he. The respect thing. It was only right that sitting as he was in the man’s chair, behind the man’s desk, and dealing with the man’s clients, that he paid his respects. Yes, but that would be at the funeral. What about the shaking of hands afterwards with the widow, Annette, with Lisa on his elbow. Should they excuse themselves and avoid the wake? That would make things pretty obvious. Could they slip in and out at the back of the Church. Would that be enough for Lisa?
He suddenly remembered that she might not have been told. Better go and find her.
He passed Margaret again as he went to Lisa’s room. She smiled him a knowing smile.
Dick Ridley stuck his head out of his office door.
“Oh, I was just coming to see you”, and stepped back to invite Brakespeare in.
“Pretty bad situation.” He commented.
“Well, I assume that Gordon’s death was anticipated. Lisa said that he wouldn’t be coming back to the Office”
Ridley’s face clouded.
“Not that, I mean her going to the funeral.”
This was a situation in which Brakespeare thought it better to remain silent.
“My wife, Mary, doesn’t approve.”
“No?”
“No, she doesn’t approve of Lisa.”
Brakespeare couldn’t help but be flippant.
“Afraid she might steal you away?” he grinned.
Ridley went scarlet.
“I say, that’s a bit steep.”
“Only joking.”
“Well it’s all going to be rather embarrassing.”
“Why?”
“Well the Church people will be there.”
“Gordon was a churchgoer?”
“No, but Annette is. My wife goes to the same Church. They’ll be there to support Annette.”
“Ah. I see. So who decided she should go?”
“I think that David insisted”.
“Well I suppose in his circumstances, he would.”
“Pardon”
“You know that he has or had – I’m not sure which, a mistress in London?”
Ridley looked alarmed.
“I didn’t know that, well, there were rumours about his relationship with his wife..”
“Does she go to the Church too?”
“Oh no. Well she wouldn’t. She’s Roman Catholic”
“I see”. Brakespeare had to try not to smile at the vision of the unhappy wives of Worcestershire forming a vigilante group within the Church. “Well, David has or had a mistress, and so he would see nothing wrong in insisting that Lisa should be invited. In fact,” Brakespeare paused. “It would be typical of his slightly out of the ordinary thinking.”
“Perhaps.”
Brakespeare had a thought. “Has anyone actually asked Lisa if she wants to go to the funeral?”
Ridley looked startled. “Do you know, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well, as I’m the one who has been deputed to escort her, I’m on my way to find out. I’ll let you know.”
Brakespeare made his way to Lisa’s room on the second floor of the building. He could hear her humming as he reached the top of the stairs. He could also hear the whirr and click of a printer, and found her collecting letters as they were ejected.
“Is this your new executive roel?” he asked.
“Sure is. I’m in charge of client relations.”
“With you new friend Margaret.”
“With my close friend Margaret.” She nodded her head affirmatively.
“There really have been some big changes overnight. Seriously though, there’s this thing called a funeral sometime.”
Lisa physically crumpled; her chin dropped. “I hoped no-one was going to mention that.”
“Do you want to go.”
“Of course I want to go” she snapped.
“Well it shall be as you wish.”
“What.”
“It seems that our unloved client David Newberry who is not only an Executor of Gordon’s will, but is organising the funeral, has invited you.”
Lisa simply stared at him.
“It seems that Annette Morrison is a very forgiving woman.”
Again there was no visible reaction from Lisa
“I’ve been asked to go.”
She raised her eyebrows slightly.
“Perhaps we could go together?”
Lisa leaped to her feet and hugged him. He returned the hug.
“Thanks Jonny. I know that it won’t be easy, but I need to say goodbye to Gordon. Goodbye to what might have been.”
She hesitated, and pulled back to look him in they eye.
“Perhaps hello, to what might be.”
Brakespeare felt his pulse quicken. She was a bit quick this one. Her lover only just dead.
He didn’t want to reply to Lisa. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and yet this sudden – liberation, seemed the right word, within hours of Morrison’s death did not feel right.
“Que sera, sera” he said simply.
“Que sera” she repeated, “whatever will be, will be.”
“Now about Newberry.” said Brakespeare, and immediately Lisa was all attention. “When you’ve finished this – and anything else that is needed in connection with Gordon’s, er demise, can you make up a complete bundle of Black’s firm’s correspondence with Jonathan Skinner out of the Redshaw files. See if you can see any more patterns.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the relationships of the reports to the National with the offers to Skinners..”
“Gotcha”. Said Lisa with enthusiasm.
“Then we’d better have this conference with Queen’s Counsel.”
“- and Mr Breezie.”
“ and Mr Breezie, yes.”
“O.K.” said Lisa with a smile which said that she would not be looking forward to it.
“See ya.”
“Sure will.”
chapter twenty five
“Sure, there is something going on, or rather there was. I’ve analysed the correspondence now.”
Lisa did not even knock at the door as she entered Brakespeare’s office.
“Criminal?” asked Brakespeare hopefully.
“Well, remember how after the first request to Black from the National, he seeks an offer from Skinners. Remember also that he is asked to do a valuation under the ‘Statement of Asset Valuation Practice
There then follows a letter to him asking if he has inspected the leases. I presume that they want him to see if there is anything odd about them. He says that he hasn’t inspected them.”
“So how can he have made a proper valuation?”
“It gets better. There is then a series of letters in which the National ask Black to advise on various offers they have received on the properties. Each time he charges for his advice. In fact, it’s quite funny, on the first occasion he charged £1,000.00 for advising on an offer. The National objected, and so he reduced it to £250.00, and this is what he charged for each of the later advices.”
“Where does that get us.?”
“Of itself, nowhere, but every time that someone puts in an offer, then Skinners make a slightly higher offer, such as for one property, the flats at Disraeli Crescent, where the National has received an offer of £1.75 million”
“One point seven five million pounds”
“Exactly, well within what they were valued at by National Surveyors, and this is o
ne of David’s own valuations. Anyway within 48 hours Skinners come along with £1.85 million for one of their clients.
“Look”, she came round the desk and without hesitation pressed against Brakespeare. She pointed to a letter.
“Here is a letter from Walters at the National, writing to say that they have received the offer of £1.75 million via Suttons, their own selling agents.”
“Because the Bank has to be able to show that it took all steps possible to sell the property at the best possible price, once it had taken repossessed it.” Queried Brakespeare.
Lisa nodded. “Finally he asks Black to confirm that it is a realistic offer. Look, here’s Black writing a 2 page letter back to them on the 6th April and says that he recommends “that an offer of £1.75 million, subject to contract, is acceptable and should be seriously considered in the light of the prevailing market conditions and on the basis that the current recession is unlikely to show signs of any recovery for at least another 12 months.”
“Fair enough.”
“He charges his £250.00 for that but.” Lisa turned a page, a triumphant note entering her voice. “He then writes to Skinner with a letter beginning ‘Dear Jonathan’ and saying “I confirm that my clients have received a substantial offer for number 46c Disraeli Crescent, which is currently receiving attention. although my clients have not formally instructed me to sell these properties I am endeavouring to secure a formal instruction on the basis that a purchaser can be secured, It is for this reason that I am writing to you to establish whether your clients would be prepared to make a separate bid for the 5 flats at 46c Disraeli Crescent.
“Then Skinner comes in with the £1.85 million - £100,000.00 pounds more?” asked Brakespeare.
“Sure. Look.” She bent over him again, and Brakespeare found himself totally distracted by her. “The National has obviously had to tell Suttons. All hell breaks loose then because the National have instructed Suttons to sell the properties, and Suttons get fed up with Black or rather Redshaws, interference. They send a fax to Black complaining that he should not send offers directly to the National. I like this but “It is not only discourteous but in our view, unprofessional.”
“What does Black say?” asked Brakespeare, laughing. “Talk about Honour Among Thieves”
