Cut-Throat Defence: The dramatic, twist-filled legal thriller

by Olly Jarvis

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘Do you think it’s the NCA?’

  ‘As opposed to the unknown – I hope so,’ replied Jack. ‘Whoever it is, they want to know what we’ve discovered, which means they know there is something to be discovered.’

  ‘I’m scared, Jack.’

  He wanted to reassure her. Squeeze her hand. Hold her. But couldn’t, not after the rebuff earlier. ‘Don’t worry. They wouldn’t dare do anything to us,’ he offered, not believing it for a moment.

  They pulled up outside Jack’s apartment block. Lara was still preoccupied, not just about being followed, something deeper.

  ‘Are you all right, Lara?’

  She ignored the question, posing one of her own. ‘Can we go and see your father again? I’m sure he had more to tell me.’

  ‘Sure, I’d say you’d be welcome any time, he seemed to take quite a shine to you.’

  ‘No, I mean now?’

  ‘OK. Let’s go.’ It meant more time with her.

  Lara smiled at him and started the engine again. ‘I’m sorry about before, Jack.’

  ‘It’s OK, forget it. You’re right. It is none of my business,’ he replied, embarrassed the subject had come up again.

  ‘It’s not that. It’s just, I find it hard to talk about – feelings.’

  ‘I totally understand,’ he said. He didn’t. Did she mean feelings for Jack?

  ‘His name’s Matthew.’

  No, she didn’t.

  ‘Right. OK,’ said Jack, resigned to the new information.

  She was out of his league, anyway.

  Chapter 48

  Jack had done the courtesy of ringing his dad to say they were coming. Although Mariusz denied it, Jack was convinced he had woken him up. He answered the door in his dressing gown, but with the usual hearty welcome.

  They went upstairs to the living room, where Mariusz had laid out a pot of tea, some cups and a plate of pączki, the Polish version of doughnuts.

  ‘Siadaj, prosze. Sit, please.’ He gestured to Lara.

  As they sat together, drinking tea and enjoying the pączki, Mariusz was smiling at both Lara and Jack, looking from one to the other.

  Jack could not ignore him any longer. ‘Go on then, Tata, spit it out. What’s so funny?’

  ‘It just you work so much together, very late. You make good team, yes?’

  They both blushed.

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Lara. He thinks he’s hilarious. Now stop teasing, Tata. Lara has something important to ask you.’

  Mariusz’s expression changed in an instant. ‘Of course. What is it, Lara?’

  ‘I don’t know, I’m sorry. I feel silly now. I felt last time that there might be more about my parents’ deaths that you knew. I’ve never really talked about it with anyone, not as an adult anyway.’

  Mariusz sighed, then held her gaze. ‘You clever lawyer, just like father. I know there were lot of question at time, with no answer. That all.’

  Jack could see his dad was reluctant to talk about it. He decided to push him, knowing Lara wouldn’t. ‘Come on, Tata, what do you mean? Did you have any questions?’

  ‘No, I not clever man, but one thing I not understand.’ He smiled at Lara nervously, as if waiting for permission to continue.

  She gave it. ‘Go on.’

  ‘For pay respect, coffin was open casket. It more normal in those day. I see Michael in coffin. He wearing dinner suit – black tie. I ask funeral man why he wear these clothes. Man say this what he wearing when he crash. This is suit hospital give him. He been to big party, ball I think, before crash.’

  Jack interrupted. ‘What are you saying? What’s wrong with that? That makes sense to me.’

  Mariusz waved at his son to be quiet. ‘The jacket he wear in coffin. It not his jacket.’

  Lara was transfixed. ‘What do you mean it wasn’t his jacket?’

  Mariusz became more animated. ‘I tell you, I know all his clothes. That jacket was not his!’

  Neither Jack nor Lara knew what to make of it, or whether it had any significance at all. As a tailor, Mariusz had to add, almost apologetically, ‘It not fit him.’

  Jack could see how this was unsettling Lara.

  ‘Look, Tata, it might seem strange to a tailor but not to anyone else. There must have been a mix-up somewhere. These things happen.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he agreed.

  ‘Did you mention it to anyone at the time?’

  Mariusz hung his head in shame. ‘No, I say nothing.’

  Jack hadn’t meant it as a criticism. Lara took Mariusz’s hand and asked, rhetorically, ‘What were you supposed to do? Start complaining, as his tailor, that he was not correctly dressed?’ She forced a laugh. ‘But what did you mean, there were a lot of questions? Were the police asking questions?’

  ‘Not really. Police no, but newspaper, yes. There was journalist at funeral, but he thrown out.’

  ‘Why? Was he asking questions?’

  ‘No, but he say he come as friend to pay respect, not for question.’ Mariusz paused. ‘I think I say too much. I upset you.’

  ‘Please, Mariusz. I need to know everything.’

  ‘Well – you know Michael drunk drive. All his friend say that man never drink driver. Never. And his wife, your mum, she in car. She would no let him drive like that.’

  A tear rolled down Lara’s cheek.

  Mariusz wiped it away. ‘But everyone, even good man, make mistake.’

  Her tears began to flow more freely until she was almost sobbing. Jack leant across and held her tightly. Her whole body seemed to be weeping.

  Mariusz put his arms round them both.

  Jack rocked her gently. The sobs became a whimper.

  Mariusz left them.

  Eventually, Lara sat up.

  Jack swept her hair back behind her ear. She apologized. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never cried like that before.’

  ‘No need,’ said Jack.

  Mariusz came back into the lounge with a glass of brandy and handed it to Lara, with the order, ‘Drink,’ which she did. ‘Lara, you must live life. You have good job, you beautiful. Be happy. Don’t let past pull you back. What done is done.’

  Lara reflected on this advice. ‘You’re right, Mariusz,’ she said. ‘I will, but I need to know exactly what happened before I can move on. It seems crazy, but I’ve only just started to ask questions about it all.’

  ‘It not crazy,’ Mariusz replied.

  Father and son watched Lara take another sip and relax into the easy silence.

  * * *

  Smashing glass, downstairs. An explosion.

  They jumped up.

  Screeching tyres.

  Jack ran down into the workroom, followed by the others. A brick had been thrown through the front window, and a petrol bomb. Some suits on a rail had ignited.

  Jack pulled them off and stamped out the flames.

  In disbelief, they stood surveying the damage.

  Jack spoke first. ‘Right, I’m calling the police.’

  ‘No, Janusz. I don’t want. I live here fifty years. Never need police. Then problem insurance. No.’

  ‘Tata, these are very dangerous people. The police can fit a panic alarm, linked to the station, just in case.’

  ‘No, it just kids.’

  ‘Tata, are you mad? Kids don’t come by car. This was planned. If I can’t be sure you’re safe, then I’m withdrawing from this case. Tell him, Lara.’

  ‘He’s right Mariusz. It would only be for a few days. If you’d been asleep upstairs when this happened…’

  Jack cut in, ‘You could’ve died.’

  ‘Good, then I see your mother.’

  Jack tried a different approach. ‘Tata, your son is a lawyer. You’re supposed to support the system. Believe in it.’

  Mariusz still wouldn’t budge. ‘I believe in my son. That all. I phone Radek, get wood for window.’

  Jack was infuriated but knew h
is father would not change his mind.

  Mariusz busied himself by sweeping up the glass. ‘Janusz, you fight case. Nobody tell a Kowalski what to do.’

  Jack forced a smile. ‘OK, Tata. Anything else happens, call me, day or night.’

  This incident had been a wake-up call, if one were needed. Jack was beginning to realise just how far out of his depth he had strayed. If only he could sleep, think clearly.

  On the drive back to the city centre neither of them spoke. The silences were somehow more comfortable now. Despite everything, Jack felt closer to Lara. His head had been in a whirl ever since holding her in his arms. He wondered if he would ever be able to hold her like that again.

  His thoughts inevitably drifted back to his father. ‘Whoever did that wants me to back off Finch in cross tomorrow. It was a warning.’

  ‘Who from? The District?’

  ‘Maybe. It certainly wasn’t any government agency.’

  ‘I don’t get it ‒ you haven’t got anything of substance to put to Finch.’

  ‘Yeah. Why do they think I have?’

  Lara shrugged.

  Jack got out of the car and walked towards his apartment.

  ‘Jack! Wait.’

  Lara had run after him.

  ‘Is everything OK?’

  She threw her arms round his neck. First a hug, and then she kissed his cheek. Tears in her eyes. ‘Thank you, Jack. Thank you.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ he asked as she ran back to her car. ‘You’ve got nothing to apologize for.’

  She was gone.

  He missed her already.

  Chapter 49

  Officer Finch was brought back into the witness box. Everyone was in court, apart from the judge. Finch scanned the courtroom nervously. The jury were excited, having waited since lunchtime the previous day to find out if Jack’s cross-examination had uncovered a golden nugget.

  Otterwood began to address Mr Justice Skart, repeating that he had made some further disclosure – this time for the benefit of the jury, so as not to appear underhanded. He started to put a question. ‘Can you confirm, officer…’

  Jack jumped to his feet. ‘Excuse me! I was in the middle of a cross-examination, My Lord.’

  The judge smiled at Otterwood. ‘He has a point, Mr Otterwood, has he not?’ His Lordship seemed amused at how quickly this young barrister was finding his feet.

  Otterwood sat down.

  Jack took control. ‘Officer Finch, let’s start by updating the jury, as I was updated yesterday. Mr Otterwood was given special permission to speak to you, even though you were in the middle of your evidence – which he did?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Although I wasn’t there, I suspect he asked you why you hadn’t told him that Melanie Marpit worked at the same place as your CHIS?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘Why hadn’t you told him before?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was important or relevant. There was no connection with the CHIS other than working at the same place. She’d already left by the time my CHIS started providing information. It was only after this prosecution had begun that I found out she worked there, and about the link.’

  ‘But they knew each other?’

  ‘Presumably, if they worked together for a time.’

  ‘Do you accept that you should have told Mr Otterwood?’

  ‘With hindsight I do, if you say so, but I still say it’s not relevant.’ The officer had clearly thought long and hard about how best to deal with these questions.

  ‘Let’s just fill in the gaps for the jury. We know now, don’t we, that your CHIS worked as a bouncer at a lap-dancing bar in Salford called Milo’s – the prosecution disclosed that to the defence yesterday, didn’t they?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Melanie Marpit, the defendant’s daughter, worked there as a dancer, didn’t she?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘What was the name of your CHIS?’

  Everyone in the court, other than counsel and the judge, was on the edge of their seat.

  ‘Acer Spears.’

  An audible hum from the press box. They had heard that name recently.

  ‘And for those who have not read it in the newspapers, he was murdered last Friday night, while working at Milo’s.’

  ‘It’s a police investigation, but yes, we believe he was.’

  ‘Has anyone been charged with his murder?’

  ‘I don’t believe so. Not as yet.’

  ‘Officer, just to complete the picture of what the defence have now been told, Spears was a registered informant receiving authorized payments, and you were his handler?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He was providing you with extremely valuable information about this organized crime group and their distribution of drugs?’

  Before Finch could answer, the quick-witted old judge intervened. ‘This is all very interesting, but I have not actually seen anything that resembles a defence, to date. On the other hand, to allow the officer to report a conversation with Mr Spears may be highly prejudicial to the cases of other defendants and, because it is hearsay, the evidence cannot be challenged. I will not allow you to cross-examine in that way.’

  The old Jack Kowalski would have been crestfallen by this ruling. Not any more. He was just going to have to find another way around it. ‘Officer Finch, I must make it quite clear that I don’t want you to tell the court what Mr Spears said to you, that would be hearsay. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Did you know where Mr Spears was getting his information from?’

  ‘No, I did not.’

  ‘Because he never told you?’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  Jack was leading the witness right into a sucker punch. ‘So how did you know what he told you was true?’

  The officer was stunned; he hadn’t thought it through. He tried to buy more time by appearing not to understand the question.

  Jack pressed on. ‘If a man registers as an informant and gets paid, don’t you need to know where he is getting his information from? What his connection is to the criminality? You wouldn’t be able to get authorization to register him without it, would you?’

  The officer fought back. ‘All I can tell you is that he gave us some information. We acted on it and it turned out to be true. He was a proven source, so we registered him and he continued to provide accurate information.’

  ‘Spears was a local man, wasn’t he?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘He supported Manchester City, didn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’s on his antecedent history, officer. He has a football-related violence conviction. Didn’t you ever log on to your computer to see, at the very least, what previous convictions he had?’

  ‘No, I don’t recall doing that.’

  ‘But, officer, this whole undercover operation was based on the information he was providing, was it not?’

  ‘A substantial part was, yes.’

  ‘The Crown’s case is that this whole conspiracy involved an organized crime group from London, who were working with a drugs cartel in Venezuela, is it not?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Did you ever ask yourself how a doorman from Salford was able to get you information about this organization?’ Jack was wondering just how stupid Finch was prepared to pretend to be.

  ‘Yes, of course I did.’

  ‘Did you ask him?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘He just didn’t tell you?’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’

  ‘Do you know who owns Milo’s?’

  ‘No, I can’t say I do.’ Finch was becoming more irritated by the questioning.

  ‘Didn’t you enquire?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, do you know who Mr Spears’ employer was?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re not serious, officer, surely?’

 
; ‘I don’t know who his employer was.’

  ‘You know that a major consideration in CHIS authorization is the welfare of the source?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How were you able to make any assessment of the best way to protect his welfare? You knew nothing about him, did you?’

  ‘We felt we knew enough.’

  ‘I see. Are you aware of a major northwest criminal called Elvis Boyle, more commonly known by the name the press use – I think in fact given to him by our very own Jim Smith of the Manchester Evening News – “the Sauvignon Don”?’

  The name sent a spark around the courtroom.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Do you have any intelligence that leads you to believe he is connected in some way to Milo’s?’

  ‘No.’

  The judge interjected with some displeasure. ‘I hope you have an evidential foundation for that assertion, Mr Kowalski?’

  ‘No, My Lord, which is why I enquired rather than asserted.’

  ‘Don’t split hairs with me, Mr Kowalski. You know very well that speculative expeditions are not permitted in this court.’

  ‘I’ll move on, My Lord.’ Jack refocused on his prey. ‘So, would I be right in saying that there is one big mystery in this case, and that is where the information that led to this prosecution originated?’

  The judge intervened again. ‘That is comment, Mr Kowalski. You don’t have to answer that, officer. Mr Kowalski, is this cross-examination going anywhere?’

  ‘No further questions.’ Jack sat down.

  Finch had out-foxed him.

  Otterwood re-examined. ‘Officer Finch, can I just clarify please? Do you have any reason to suspect the information from Mr Spears had its origins in Carl Marpit, or indeed Melanie Marpit, for that matter?’

  Finch looked across at the judge for effect. ‘None whatsoever, My Lord.’

  ‘Did you ever have any reason to doubt the information you were being given by Mr Spears?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Thank you very much, officer. Does Your Lordship have any questions?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘My Lord, that is the case for the prosecution.’

  Jack caught Katterman’s eye. He gave Jack a condescending wink.

  Chapter 50