The Genesis Inquiry

by Olly Jarvis

  Chapter Eighteen

  The midday sun shone through the glass atrium at the end of the landing, lighting up the mezzanine outside the courtrooms.

  ‘So, what happens now?’ asked Lizzie as soon as Ella came in.

  ‘We wait,’ Ella replied, sitting down and rereading the file.

  Jay put his weight on one foot then the other. ‘Would you mind explaining the strategy?’

  Ella didn’t look up.

  Nervously interrupting the silence again, Jay asked: ‘Asking all these disclosure questions, isn’t there a risk of them just getting more evidence together to convict me?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a gamble,’ she replied, turning over a page.

  ‘Explain,’ ordered Lizzie.

  Ella stopped reading and looked at her client. ‘The Criminal Justice System is on its knees. There’s no funding for the police or the CPS. They’re all doing the job of ten people. The officer in charge is snowed under and the prosecutor works in-house at the CPS, he’s not from the independent Bar, so he’s got people to answer to back at the office if this goes pear-shaped.’

  ‘I don’t get it?’ said Jay.

  Irritated by the question, Ella replied, ‘I’m guessing they thought you would plead guilty or defend yourself and so did nothing on the case. They didn’t investigate your defence and didn’t even put together a schedule of unused evidence – listing all the pieces of evidence that they’ve obtained but aren’t relying on.’ She gave him a lawyer’s look. ‘If I’m right they might think twice about exposing their failures in a public courtroom, in front of the press, during a five-day trial.’

  Jay sat down across from her. ‘You mean they might choose…’

  She nodded. ‘To drop the case, yes.’

  Lizzie sat down next to him. ‘But what’s any of that got to do with Jay?’

  ‘Arguably, not much,’ Ella replied. ‘But who cares?’ She turned her attention back to the papers.

  ‘Yeah, who cares,’ echoed Jay.

  ‘Obviously,’ agreed Lizzie after some hesitation. ‘It just all seems so cold and calculating.’

  ‘Miss Blake?’ Jay’s hands started fidgeting again. ‘You do believe I’m innocent, though?’

  Of course,’ she replied, without even looking up.

  ‘Why do you believe me?’ he asked

  Realising her previous answer hadn’t been enough, she gave him her attention now. She pointed to his MacBook on the table. ‘You’ve got stickers on your laptop, you’re a kid.’

  Jay looked even more disconcerted.

  Stubbs knocked on the door. ‘Can I have a word?’

  Ella got up and went out onto the landing where Stubbs was waiting with an agitated McDonald just behind him.

  Stubbs was breathing hard. ‘We’re dropping it.’

  McDonald’s expression made clear his resentment at what was unfolding.

  ‘How come?’ Ella asked, trying to sound surprised.

  Stubbs took off his wig and rubbed his head. ‘We’ve carefully reviewed the papers, and—’

  ‘Actually,’ she said, losing interest, ‘save it for the judge.’

  ‘Is this how you win cases?’ asked McDonald, jutting out his chin. ‘Trying to call out the prosecution, blame everyone else?’

  Ella stared him down. ‘If it’s legal. I do what it takes, it’s nothing personal.’

  ‘It is to me.’ McDonald moved a little further into her space.

  Ella was no stranger to this kind of intimidation, especially from men. She continued to hold his gaze. ‘Then try and be a bit more professional.’

  ‘You cheeky cow,’ stammered McDonald, raising a finger to her face. ‘You know how overworked we are.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Stubbs, pulling the officer away. ‘A total pleasure, Miss Blake.’ This time there was no awe in his voice, only contempt.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The remnants of the case played out in court in a matter of seconds.

  Even though the judge told Jay that he was not guilty and free to go, it seemed to take a while to sink in. He remained in the dock for a few seconds, unsure of what to do until the Dock Officer gave him a gentle push. When Ella had got changed out of her robes, she found him still waiting on the landing with Lizzie.

  ‘So that’s really it?’ he asked Ella. ‘Completely finished?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, relieved as much for herself as for him. ‘You can go to uni and have a great life.’

  He ran his fingers through his thick, black, hair. ‘It’s all a bit of a shock. Just wasn’t expecting it to end like this, and so quickly.’

  ‘Don’t knock it,’ Ella replied.

  ‘No, of course not, it’s…’ His voice cracked. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘Thank Lizzie,’ she replied, unmoved. ‘I’ve really got to be somewhere.’

  ‘Miss Blake, Ella, err…’ he said, struggling to open up. ‘If there’s anything I could ever do in return? Anything, to say thank you?’

  She managed to raise a smile. ‘If I ever need a gardener who is great with computers, I know where to come.’

  A grin gave his uptight face a break. ‘Deal.’

  They shook hands.

  ‘See you tonight Lizzie,’ Ella shouted back as she headed for the stairs. ‘Really looking forward to it.’

  Jay and Lizzie followed her then hovered outside the entrance. ‘She’s one hell of a barrister,’ said Jay. ‘She… you both have saved my life.’

  Lizzie patted his arm. ‘What will you do now?’

  He was still choked. ‘Get a job until September.’

  ‘Can’t you go back to the gardening?’

  ‘Handed my notice in, they’ve already filled it.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I was so sure I was going down. I’ll find something, it’s only for a few months.’

  She gave him an encouraging smile. ‘I’m sure you will.’

  ‘Do you want to get a coffee or something?’ he blurted. ‘Some lunch?’

  She half grimaced. ‘I can’t.’

  His head dropped. ‘No problem.’

  ‘I’ve got lectures,’ she said, touching his arm again.

  Still looking down, he replied, ‘Of course.’

  She needed to explain. ‘Jay, I’ve just started seeing someone.’

  He looked at her intensely – but said nothing. It made her feel she had to say more. ‘It just wouldn’t feel right.’

  He glanced off. ‘You don’t have to explain.’

  She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Bye Jay.’

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘Thanks for seeing me at such short notice,’ said Ella.

  ‘No problem,’ Master Desmond replied, walking back to his desk. ‘I want to hear how it’s all going?’

  ‘For a start,’ she said, sitting down in her usual seat. ‘Cameron Shepherd is dead.’

  ‘What?’ Desmond’s mouth fell open as he flopped onto his chair.

  ‘Car accident, apparently.’

  Shaking his head, he said, ‘Where did you learn this?’

  ‘Phoenix Police. He was supposed to meet me in Cambridge but didn’t show.’ Ella gave Desmond time to process the information.

  He leaned forward on his elbows and clasped his hands together. ‘You don’t think…?’

  She let him be the one to say it.

  ‘It was an accident? Nothing linked to this inquiry?’

  She shrugged. ‘That’s all I know. The timing is very worrying.’

  She could feel Desmond studying her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, feeling self-conscious. ‘It’s unsettling, obviously.’

  ‘Of course. Have you told Officer McDonald?’ he asked, giving her face even more scrutiny.

  ‘No,’ she replied, trying to sound as if the thought had never occurred to her. ‘Why?’

  ‘So he’s got the full picture, if nothing else. I don’t know… he could liaise with Arizona?’
r />   ‘McDonald’s not interested,’ she said, then pretended to think it through. ‘But you’re right, he should know.’

  ‘Surprised you didn’t tell him this morning?’ Desmond raised his eyebrows.

  Ella dropped her shoulders. ‘I see. He’s been in touch?’

  ‘Yes,’ Desmond replied, his irritation obvious. ‘He says he tried to be helpful at your first meeting and that you were critical of his investigation.’

  Ella moved her head back. ‘That’s not quite right.’

  Desmond leaned forward. ‘And that you were defending one of the university gardeners at court today and, to use McDonalds’s words, stitched up the prosecution?’

  ‘No,’ she protested. ‘I was just doing my job and—’

  ‘Miss Blake,’ he cut in. ‘With respect, I think you’re missing the point. I hired you for this inquiry, then I hear you are taking cases, on our time, banging heads with the very people whose cooperation you should be gaining.’

  Ella sat up straight. ‘Master Desmond, I was asked this morning to do the case, it was a friend of my daughter, he didn’t have a lawyer.’

  Desmond scoffed. ‘I heard it was a trial that could’ve gone on for days.’

  ‘I didn’t know that when—’ She stopped, took a breath and slumped back in her chair. ‘You’re right.’ She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds. ‘I’m sorry, it was unprofessional.’

  Desmond’s tone softened: ‘Do you want this job? Are you up to it?’

  She sat up again. ‘Of course.’

  Desmond put a hand on the desk. ‘No, I mean do you really want it? Not just as a cover for seeing your daughter?’

  She winced. ‘Who told you that?’

  He held her gaze. ‘I’m a father.’

  She felt embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, this is isn’t who I am normally.’

  ‘I know from Simon you’ve had a lot to deal with in recent times,’ he said with a sideways tilt of the head. ‘But—’

  Ella interrupted, ‘You need one hundred percent focus, discretion, and someone who is totally committed to this very difficult assignment?’

  He slammed his hand down on the mahogany. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I am that person and I will make things right with McDonald.’

  Desmond sighed, eventually replying, ‘Thank you.’

  Ella got up to leave. She decided it was not a good time to share how little progress she’d actually made. ‘I’ve read a lot about Aristotle, an extraordinary man.’

  ‘A true genius,’ Desmond replied, blowing a speck of dust off the mantelpiece.

  ‘Who would you say was the greatest English polymath?’

  His face lit up. ‘Sir Isaac Newton. He was a fellow here at Cambridge, at Trinity. So much of his greatest work wasn’t published until after his death, you know.’ Then he added, ‘I do hope Matthew doesn’t suffer the same fate.’

  ‘We have to find his work first,’ Ella responded gloomily.

  Desmond gave a solemn nod.

  ‘I’ll have to do some homework on Newton, I don’t know much more about him other than the law of gravity – the apple hitting him on the head.’

  ‘Ah, yes, and he was sitting under a tree on this very street.’ Desmond laughed, then his expression turned serious. ‘The breadth of his work was extraordinary, a true cosmic polymath.’

  ‘Cosmic?’

  ‘Yes,’ Desmond replied, racing on. ‘He drew everything together, from the planets to the natural world below. He saw the links – tides, orbits, and yes, why an apple falls.’

  ‘He saw the bigger picture?’

  ‘Exactly!’

  Ella warmed to Desmond, seeing him begin to enjoy the conversation.

  ‘It’s all about joining the dots, Miss Blake.’

  ‘Of course,’ she muttered, distracted about how she was going to handle McDonald.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ella decided to stop off at the Gonville to psych herself up before giving McDonald the grovelling apology. She walked through the lobby, debating whether to have a glass of wine in the bar before going up. She felt so wired.

  ‘Miss Blake?’

  ‘Yes?’

  The receptionist was holding up a parcel. ‘This came for you, special delivery.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Something made her scan the area for prying eyes before taking the package. She could see it was from the States. She went straight to her room and locked the door before ripping it open. Inside was a CD in a case, nothing else.

  Ella tossed the remains of the padded envelope on the bed and stuck the disc into her laptop. She waited. Eventually it sprang to life – footage from a home video, some kids messing about in a paddling pool. She identified Matthew immediately. He was involved in the fun, but also, somehow removed. Not quite connected. It was how she remembered her own childhood. She often wondered if her brilliance at tearing witnesses to pieces in the box was some sort of revenge for the bullying she’d suffered at school.

  The clip finished playing, over in seconds. She picked up the envelope again and scrutinised it more carefully. No note. She looked at the CD case again and saw a piece of paper sticking out from behind the cardboard cover. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

  Bro, if anything happens, trust your instincts – you’ll know when and who to give this to. “He and I are the inverse of here and there.

  Underneath, in a different hand, it read:

  Just in case,

  Cam

  Just in case? In case he didn’t make it? It sent a shiver down Ella’s spine. She remembered how Cameron had ended the call – be careful – how she hadn’t given it a second thought. And what did the words mean? She read them again.

  He and I are the inverse of here and there.

  Was it a quote from something? Were they Matthew’s own words? What was he trying to say?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lizzie and Greg ambled down King’s Parade holding hands. She’d thought she loved Cambridge, but now, the buzz, the excitement, everything seemed more intense.

  Greg gave her shoulder a playful nudge as they weaved their way along the street, dodging walkers coming their way.

  Lizzie noticed a stream of young people funnelling from both directions into an alley. Keeping a firm grip, she steered Greg across the street for a better look.

  ‘David Kline!’ she said, reading the poster. ‘I’ve heard he’s amazing,’ she added, pouring enthusiasm onto her new boyfriend. ‘It’s free.’ She pointed towards some assembly rooms further up. ‘Come on.’

  Greg gently pulled away. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer a nice cold pint?’

  She threw her head back and laughed. ‘Where’s your social conscience?’

  She cajoled him towards the entrance. A group of students in the foyer were holding buckets, each with a letter in large print written on the side. ‘Phones in here please,’ said one marshal wearing a back to front baseball cap. A couple of others shouted the same mantra, followed by, ‘Remember the letter and you can collect them when you leave.’

  ‘This is all a bit new age, isn’t it?’ said Greg as they put their mobiles into the nearest container.

  Lizzie wasn’t listening, fascinated by the different faces, students from all corners of the world, filing into the auditorium. She had an immediate sense of belonging, of being part of some higher purpose. This was why she’d come to Cambridge.

  The place was full, rows of chairs on either side of a central aisle, every seat taken. The hall was Victorian with a high ceiling. At the front was a make-shift stage with an unattended oak lectern in the centre.

  Greg had spotted a couple of chairs at the side near the back and led Lizzie along a line of people already in situ, accidentally bumping into knees as they scrambled their way past.

  ‘Sorry!’ Lizzie said, falling into a pretty young blonde woman deep in conversation with a grim-faced, burly man who reached out in a flash to block the contact and push Lizzie back to her feet. She noticed a scar on his
neck, just above the collar. The woman gave her a lost smile. Lizzie reciprocated, noticing her lonely eyes. Lizzie felt an instant connection, maybe they were both shy, she thought, both searching for something, for some kind of meaning to their lives. She seemed familiar, and it niggled her but she couldn’t think where she’d seen her before. Maybe a lecture? As Lizzie moved along, she could see the man giving her the once-over, then shifting his attention elsewhere. They seemed such an unlikely pair.

  ‘Are you ready everybody?’ boomed a voice from the wings.

  ‘Yes,’ the audience replied. It reminded Lizzie of the pantomimes her mother would take her to at Christmas, but more exciting, almost like the born-again religious stuff she sometimes saw on TV.

  ‘Then put your hands together for the great academic and thinker, Dr… David Kline.’

  The audience broke into rapturous applause, some even getting to their feet.

  Lizzie and Greg exchanged amused glances.

  A man of undeniable beauty bounded up the steps from the side of the stage and skipped over to the podium. His brown shoulder-length hair and beard made him resemble movie depictions of Jesus Christ. Everything about him exuded youth and energy. He had a mic at the side of his mouth on a static wire. His aura was palpable, reaching out across the sea of people.

  Lizzie’s supercilious expression was completely wiped off her face, replaced by one of unreserved fascination.

  Kline patted the air to stop the clapping which eventually petered out. ‘Can we lose the stand?’ he shouted over to the wings in a seemingly unrehearsed intro. His accent was unmistakably English, but with no edge that could place his upbringing. It had a cool kind of bounce to it. ‘We’ve got enough barriers already.’