One Law For the Rest of Us

by Peter Murphy

  ‘Thank you, Mary. I really appreciate it.’

  ‘How many other witnesses you still have is another question.’

  ‘Yes,’ Julia agreed quietly.

  ‘Well, chin up, Julia. Don’t let the bastards get you down. Warm up your telecopier. It’s on its way.’

  Julia stood, seething, her hand gripping the receiver she had replaced in its hook, for several minutes. Eventually, she picked it up again and dialled a number.

  ‘Mr Singer, please,’ she said, when a woman’s voice answered.

  ‘Just a minute, please. May I tell him who’s calling?’

  ‘Julia Cathermole.’

  After some moments, a male voice came on the line.

  ‘Julia, to what do I owe the pleasure?’

  ‘It’s Miss Cathermole to you, Mr Singer, and I’m calling to ask how much it costs to buy off a witness in a child sexual assault case? Is it still the value of their school fees, or does it take more than that these days?’

  At first there was a silence. Then she heard him splutter on the other end of the line.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. The letter we sent out is a good faith attempt to settle current or anticipated proceedings.’

  ‘My clients Audrey and Emily Marshall are the only people suing Lancelot Andrewes School, as far as I’m aware.’

  ‘There may be other cases in the pipeline.’

  ‘According to you, they’re all time-barred.’

  ‘So we’ve argued to the judge, but we have no means of knowing how he will rule. If we have to go to trial with numerous plaintiffs, it could turn into a very expensive exercise. Naturally, I advised my clients, the trustees, that it might be prudent to consider an overall settlement before it gets out of hand. They agreed with me.’

  ‘Some of the women you’ve approached have been listed as witnesses for the plaintiffs.’

  ‘They’re also potential plaintiffs themselves. As far as I know, Miss Cathermole, there’s no property in a witness. I don’t know of any reason why I shouldn’t contact them.’

  ‘Have you contacted my clients? You see, I only found out about this a few minutes ago, from a witness abroad who received your letter yesterday. I practice in London, and I haven’t received it. I do hope you haven’t sent it directly to my clients, Mr Singer. As they are legally represented in the proceedings, that would be a grave breach of professional conduct, and I give you my assurance that, if you’ve done that, I will haul you in front of the Law Society and do my damnedest to have you struck off.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Cathermole,’ Singer replied, insincerely. ‘Haven’t you got it yet? I assumed we’d sent it to you, of course. I’ll speak to my secretary and make sure you have it.’

  ‘That’s not the point. In case you didn’t know, it’s a criminal offence to bribe a witness not to give evidence.’

  ‘I would advise you to moderate your language, Miss Cathermole,’ Singer replied. ‘It’s not against the law to offer a settlement to a potential plaintiff. That’s all I’ve done.’ He paused. ‘What would your clients say about it, do you think? I assume you will advise them that an offer of settlement has been made?’

  ‘If I receive such an offer,’ Julia replied, ‘I have a duty to advise them of it, and I will. I anticipate that they will tell you exactly what you can do with your offer. But I will advise them of it.’

  ‘Well, that’s their prerogative, of course,’ Singer said. ‘But I’m bound to say, it might be in their best interests to at least consider the offer: it has all sorts of advantages. They can put this whole thing behind them, have some closure, move on with their lives, you know. The little girl won’t have to face the ordeal of giving evidence again. You really should think about taking the offer while it’s still on the table.’

  ‘It’s funny you should say that, Mr Singer,’ Julia said. ‘You’re the second person to give me that advice in the last twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Then, perhaps you ought to give it some consideration, don’t you think, rather than just turning it down out of hand?’

  ‘I’ll be taking counsel’s opinion,’ Julia replied, ‘and you will hear from me when I’ve received her advice.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  ‘Oh, and while I’ve got you on the phone, Mr Singer – just as a matter of interest – is the offer limited to pupils of Lancelot Andrewes, or does it apply to pupils of the other five schools?’

  Julia sensed shock in the silence that followed.

  ‘What? What five schools? What are you talking about?’

  ‘We’ll speak again soon, Mr Singer,’ Julia replied, hanging up.

  54

  The files had filled four large brown cardboard boxes. Ted Phillips and Steffie Walsh had carried them from the car they had parked nearby into Andrew’s office at the Old Bailey, and, with the help of the staff, deposited them on his table. Both officers looked tired, and Andrew made sure they had an ample supply of strong coffee in front of them before asking them any questions. Julia had arrived at the same time, also looking tired and tense.

  ‘I contacted Ben and Ginny yesterday,’ she said quietly to Andrew. ‘They couldn’t be here this afternoon, but they said to call them later if we needed to talk.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘And… can I whisper in your ear for a moment?’

  She ushered him into a corner of the room, away from where Ted and Steffie were helping themselves to more coffee.

  ‘I may have been a bit indiscreet this afternoon with John Singer,’ she confessed.

  ‘What do you mean, indiscreet?’

  ‘He’s sent out a letter to the victims, offering a financial settlement, on condition that it all remains confidential. As a result, I probably don’t have any witnesses left, except for Mary Forbes, God bless her. I only found about it when she called me from Canada, just after lunch.’

  Andrew thought for some moments. ‘Did he approach Audrey?’

  ‘No. He would have to approach her through me; and now that he has, I will have to tell her about it. But I called Singer just before I came over here, to let him know what I thought, and I’m afraid I lost my temper.’

  ‘I can’t say I blame you. Is he allowed to do that?’

  ‘I have a call in to Ginny for an urgent opinion. But I think I know what she’s going to say. Once I cooled down, and my instinct kicked back in, it occurred to me that he’s probably all right as long as he doesn’t make it a condition that they not give evidence against the school. I haven’t read the letter yet – Mary’s sending it to me – but I doubt he was stupid enough to do that.’

  Andrew shook his head. ‘Don’t be too concerned about it for now. Let’s see what happens. I’m not sure he’s done any real harm. You can still subpoena the witnesses if you have to. Frankly, I’m not sure the judge would hold it against them if they settled for some money, in the circumstances. I think the school would look pretty silly if they tried to criticise them for it.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘While I was losing my temper, I asked Singer whether the offer was limited to Lancelot Andrewes or whether it extended to the other five schools.’

  ‘Ah,’ Andrew said. ‘I see. So, he knows that we know.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Andrew.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Don’t worry. I’m sure it would have occurred to him sooner or later that the police were bound to tell me, and it would be very surprising if I didn’t tell you.’

  ‘All the same…’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  They walked back to Andrew’s desk, and took their seats. Andrew turned to Ted and Steffie, who were still gratefully imbibing the coffee.

  ‘Is this everything?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Ted replied.

  ‘Any further word on Father Gerrard?’

  The two office
rs looked at each other.

  ‘The pathologist now believes that the cause of death was a lethal dose of potassium cyanide,’ Steffie said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We have officers going through his rooms again,’ Ted added. ‘They haven’t come up with anything yet. It could have been delivered through the pills he swallowed, or in the whisky, I suppose. They will have to test everything.’

  ‘So, this could well be a murder case?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘Could be,’ Steffie replied.

  ‘Cyanide does show up sometimes as a method of suicide,’ Julia said.

  ‘It’s going to be a long inquiry,’ Steffie replied.

  Andrew nodded. ‘All right. Tell us what’s in the files.’

  Steffie placed a hand on top of one of the boxes, and selected a file folder.

  ‘This is a good example. It’s for St Edgar’s School in Yorkshire, near Boroughbridge. It’s a Church of England girls’ boarding school, not unlike Lancelot Andrewes in some ways.’ She handed the folder to Andrew, who placed it between Julia and himself. ‘You will see about twenty pages from records for pupils during the 1960s, noting that they have been excused payment of fees. There are also – believe it or not – some notes of calls from parents making complaints, and some notes made by Father Gerrard as a record of a conversation he had with the headmaster, a Father Wilkinson. It’s hard to believe that they would keep stuff like this, but they did. Then you have several pages of different notes, again in Father Gerrard’s handwriting –’

  ‘Can we verify that?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. We have numerous samples of his handwriting. We’ll run them by our questioned documents expert, but there’s no doubt about it. As you can see, there’s a list of names, all first names, with initials in place of surnames. But there are phone numbers, too. We have reverse directories – that’s how we’re able to get to them. There are instances where phone numbers have changed, and some of the numbers are quite old, so we’ve had to work with old directories, and there are a few we haven’t tracked down yet. But we’ll get there.’

  ‘And these names are all men?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘So far, yes.’

  ‘What kind of breakdown?’

  ‘I’m talking about all the files together, now. The men are overwhelmingly from the professional classes: doctors, lawyers, engineers…’

  ‘Police officers,’ Ted added quietly.

  ‘Seriously?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘Including one or two who outrank us,’ Steffie added. ‘Then we come to the really interesting ones: two current and three former government ministers, seven Members of Parliament, two judges – one High Court, one Crown Court – eighteen ministers of various denominations, including Church of England, Roman Catholic, and Methodist: and assorted mayors, local councillors, business leaders, and other men who should know better.’

  Andrew bit his lip and turned to Julia.

  ‘Welcome to the rest of the iceberg,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  The phone rang. He answered. ‘Andrew Pilkington… yes… what? Yes, he’s here.’ He offered the phone to Ted. ‘It’s for you, Superintendent Walker.’

  Surprised, Ted stood and took the phone. ‘This is DI Phillips… oh, yes, sir… yes, we’re with Mr Pilkington now… what? You’re joking, sir… no, sir, you’re not joking, obviously… I understand, sir… No, that must have been after we left to come down here… Sir, did they say why?… All right, sir, I understand… Will do, sir.’

  He was looking pale as he handed the receiver back to Andrew.

  ‘Are you all right, Ted?’ Steffie asked. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘They’re going to cover it all up,’ Ted replied.

  55

  ‘Tell me exactly what Superintendent Walker said,’ Julia said quietly.

  Ted looked shaken. With a huge effort, he recovered his composure. ‘He said that about an hour after we left to come down here, four officers came to Parkside nick. They identified themselves as a detective inspector, a detective sergeant, and two detective constables attached to Special Branch.’

  ‘The security service’s police enforcers,’ Steffie added.

  Ted nodded. ‘They demanded that the Super hand over the documents we’d taken from Father Gerrard’s rooms, and in addition, all copies of Bishop EF’s interview.’

  Julia looked at Andrew. ‘What did the Superintendent do?’

  ‘He handed them over,’ Ted replied. ‘You don’t argue with Special Branch.’

  They were silent for some time.

  Andrew reached out his hand towards his phone. ‘I’ll find out what’s going on,’ he offered.

  Julia put a hand over his. ‘No. Andrew, there isn’t time,’ she said decisively.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘My guess is, we have thirty minutes or less before they come through that door. They know you two are down here to see Andrew, and they’ll want to know why.’ She leaned forward and looked Ted directly in the eye. ‘I’m going to ask you a very important question, Ted. Think very carefully before you answer. Did you tell Superintendent Walker that you were bringing a copy of the documents to Mr Pilkington?’

  Ted closed his eyes and tried to focus. ‘I can’t…’

  ‘I don’t think we did, in so many words,’ Steffie said. ‘But he knew where we were going, and he probably assumed that’s what we were doing.’

  ‘All right. Did he say anything on the phone just now, anything at all, about the fact that you’d made a copy?’

  ‘No,’ Ted replied. ‘He just told me we should get ourselves back to Parkside as soon as we can.’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘So, I can be confident that Special Branch doesn’t know about it?’

  Ted looked at Steffie and shook his head. ‘They may or may not know, but they’re bound to guess. Special Branch aren’t fools, Miss Cathermole. It won’t take them long to put two and two together. Why else would we be here this afternoon?’

  Julia shook her head. ‘I don’t care about what they guess, only about what they know. Andrew, am I correct in thinking that when Special Branch get here, you will have to hand these papers over to them?’

  Andrew thought for some time. ‘If they demand them, yes. I would have no choice. But I could hold them off for a while. I could insist on consulting the Director first.’

  ‘How long would that buy us?’

  ‘Not long. The Director is at the bottom of a direct chain of command which leads up to the Home Secretary. In the end, I’d have to give them up.’

  Julia held her head in her hands for a few moments. ‘If you needed to make copies of these papers, how would you do it? Would you copy them in-house, or would you send them out?’

  ‘With this many? We’d send them out,’ Andrew replied immediately. ‘There’s a firm on Fleet Street we use for all our heavy-document cases.’

  ‘So, I’m guessing they’re discreet, reliable?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure they are.’

  Julia stood. ‘Good. You’re sending them out now. I’m going to need a trolley, and some help getting them to my car.’

  ‘I can get you a trolley,’ Andrew said, ‘but –’

  ‘Ted, Steffie, I’m going to need your help with these.’

  ‘Our pleasure,’ Steffie said, with a grin.

  ‘Julia,’ Andrew said, ‘what are you doing?’

  ‘When Special Branch get here, tell them you need to consult the Director. Buy us as much time as you can.’

  ‘And when the time runs out…?’

  ‘Tell them the truth – you’ve sent them out for copying and you’ll hand them over as soon as Ted and Steffie bring them back.’

  Andrew stood and shook his head. ‘But that
doesn’t make sense. Why did I have them copied?’

  Steffie was smiling broadly. ‘Because Miss Cathermole asked you to, sir.’

  Julia returned the smile. ‘Exactly. I have clients suing Lancelot Andrewes School and the Three Musketeers. These files are like gold dust. We were working together on the criminal prosecution until recently. Why shouldn’t you copy them for me if I ask?’

  ‘But then, they’re going to ask what happened to your copy,’ Andrew insisted.

  ‘Yes, of course they will. Again, tell them the truth. Ted and Steffie helped me load my copy into my car before bringing the papers back to you.’

  ‘But then they’ll come after you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Julia said, smiling towards Steffie again. ‘And when they do, I’ll hand over my copy like a good girl.’ Steffie returned the smile, nodding.

  ‘But –’

  She touched his arm. ‘Better you not know any more, Andrew. I’m going to have to ask you to trust me. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve played this game before.’

  Andrew raised his eyebrows quizzically.

  ‘If you must know, the first time was for my father, in Vienna, when I was twelve,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you more some day when we have time.’ She turned to the two DIs. ‘But I do need to know that you’re both on board with me. They’re not going to harass Andrew, but they might give the two of you a hard time. I won’t do this if it puts you at any risk, so if you have any doubts, or concerns, or moral objections at all, tell me and we’ll drop the idea now.’

  ‘None from me,’ Steffie replied at once.

  ‘Let’s get moving,’ Ted said. ‘Where’s the trolley?’

  56

  Thursday 6 March 1975

  ‘It was nothing to do with us, Julia. I keep telling you.’