Tug Of Law (Bernadette Mackenna Cases Book 4)

by D. R. Bailey

  “I don’t know, not to me at least. They were being trafficked, it’s what they said isn’t it? I was arrested for that.”

  “Yes, they were, but how did you feel about it when you found out?”

  Bernadette and Imogen watched him narrowly, to gauge his reaction.

  “I felt sorry for them, of course. I mean, I don’t know how they managed to survive all that time. I’m against any kind of human trafficking, I find it abhorrent. I would never be involved in anything like that,” was all he said.

  “How do you think they survived, or could they have been put into the truck at the depot here?”

  “I don’t know because I have no details. I don’t know how you could manage to live in a barrel for several days and would probably be hot. But they probably had been through much worse for all I know. I just know what I’m accused of, I told you, not any details. I don’t think they could have been put in the barrels here, because of the seal, I mean, you would have to break it and only customs can provide a new one. This one was from the Spanish authorities.”

  “Interesting,” mused Bernadette, “We’ll leave it for now.”

  “OK.”

  Callum shifted in his seat. Bernadette could sense somehow there was something he wasn’t saying or was not willing to say. It was a feeling as much as anything else. How to find out what it was, would be a different matter.

  “Before we go any further, there is something I need to ask you,” she said without warning.

  “OK.”

  “Are you telling the truth? Is it really true you know nothing about those poor women who were smuggled in? I need you to be honest with me now.” She fixed him with a penetrating stare, and he looked a little uneasy.

  “Yes, it’s true. I didn’t know, I had no idea. I will swear on whatever you like, bible, my mother’s grave, anything. I had no clue about it until I was hit with this warrant.”

  His denial was emphatic, forthright. There was no prevarication or caveat. So, whatever he wasn’t telling them, it wasn’t that.

  “There’s a witness,” she said trying again.

  “Yes.” His eyes shifted away at the mention of this. He would no doubt have known about this part.

  “A witness who says you were involved, and you knew all about it.”

  “Yes, I know, the detectives told me.” His eyes slid from her gaze once more.

  Bernadette glanced at Imogen and she had noticed it too. They were on the right track here, for certain.

  “His name is Kevin Clinton,” put in Imogen, “Do you know Kevin Clinton?”

  “Yes.” Callum seemed to become even more agitated at the mention of his name.

  “So, how do you come to know Mr Clinton?”

  “I worked with him, I mean, he was a driver too, he…” he trailed off. They were both looking sceptical at his answer.

  “No, Callum, no, you didn’t just work with him, did you?” Bernadette said perceiving this was possibly pay dirt as regards the secret.

  “What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” he shot back, but his expression was so guilty, Bernadette wondered what on earth they had stumbled into.

  “No, it’s not but we told you at the outset we wanted total honesty. Callum, we are trying to keep you out of jail and it’s only going to happen if you tell us the absolute unvarnished truth,” said Imogen severely.

  “I… I can’t…” he said suddenly emotional.

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Because you won’t want to represent me, you’ll be disgusted in me and…” He wasn’t looking at her now, he was looking down at the floor very unhappily.

  “Of course, we won’t be,” Imogen insisted, “But you have to tell us.”

  Something occurred to Bernadette and it came to her in a flash. There was something blindingly obvious which she should not have missed.

  “Are you gay?” she asked without warning.

  “Fuck!” said Callum, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  He looked dismayed, as if the worst secret in the world had just been revealed.

  “You are gay, aren’t you.” It was a statement and his reaction had confirmed it. It also settled the issue as to whether Bernadette’s gaydar was working or not.

  “Yes, yes I am,” Callum sniffed, and tears welled up into his eyes. He put his head into his hands.

  “Your Dad doesn’t know about it, does he?” Imogen added. She could also see which way things were going and why Callum had been so reluctant to speak.

  “No.” Callum let out a big sob and his shoulders heaved in a sigh. He had evidently not come out.

  “Well, for the record, I’m gay, and so is Imogen here or, at least, she is bisexual,” Bernadette told him in matter of fact tones.

  “I’m most probably gay to be fair,” said Imogen agreeing.

  For a few moments, Callum said nothing, and then as if what they said had only just penetrated his consciousness, he said, “Pardon?”

  “I said I’m gay and so is she,” Bernadette repeated.

  He looked at her as if she was speaking Greek.

  “Oh? What? You’re gay? Both of you?” He seemed unable to credit this.

  “Yes, is it so strange?” Bernadette smiled disarmingly.

  “But you’re… lawyers,” he protested, as if this noble profession would, perforce, preclude anyone who was not strictly heterosexual.

  A crack of surprised laughter came from Bernadette. “You think lawyers can’t be gay?”

  “I… no… of course… that’s silly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean. I’m just not used to talking about it and… it’s just I can’t be… and the problem is, I am.” He looked crestfallen.

  “Why can’t you? And why is it a problem?” Imogen wanted to know. She asked it a little more gently, as it was obviously a very difficult issue for him.

  He hesitated, thinking about it, before speaking.

  “My Dad, I mean, he would hate it… he… I mean, he just doesn’t like gays, he—”

  “Employed us, and it’s well known I’m gay,” said Bernadette cutting in. Since her father had consulted several other lawyers there is no way it would not have come up.

  “What makes you think he doesn’t like gays?” Imogen asked him.

  “Things, he said, when I was young, and well… he’s always wanted grandkids, and looked to me to provide them…”

  “Being gay doesn’t mean you can’t do that.”

  “Yes, I know but…”

  “Has he ever said anything homophobic? Ever been anti-gay?” Imogen continued.

  “No… he hasn’t but…”

  “Callum, your father loves you, obviously. He was distressed when he came to ask for our help,” Bernadette told him.

  “He cried,” said Imogen.

  “He did?” Callum looked surprised.

  “Yes, so let’s not worry about it now, anyway, you will have to tell him though. Trust me when I say it is the least of his problems right now. His bigger issue is keeping you out of a British jail.”

  “I guess.” Callum didn’t look convinced. Bernadette was sure Rhys would not be unhappy to find out his son was gay. In the end, he obviously cared for his son beyond anything.

  “So, let’s go back to Kevin Clinton,” said Bernadette a little remorselessly, “Was he your lover?”

  There was silence for a moment and then Callum nodded. “Yes.”

  It was clear from his demeanour he didn’t really want to discuss it, however not discussing it wasn’t an option.

  “OK, so how long have you two been seeing each other?”

  “I don’t know, about six months, more, it was just a casual thing. When I went to London or he came over here, we’d meet up, you know, and…” He left the rest of it unsaid.

  “Right, and did you have any idea he was involved with a criminal smuggling gang?”

  “I didn’t know anything about that, no.”

  He seem
ed to be telling the truth and had relaxed a lot since his secret was out in the open. They needed to understand the real extent of their relationship, however.

  “What did you two talk about?” Imogen enquired.

  Callum sniggered. “Not so much talking, not really that much.”

  “So basically, you were fucking,” she said bluntly.

  “If you want to put it that way, then, yes.”

  “Where did you do it?”

  He shrugged. “In a hotel sometimes, or the cab of the truck, you know there’s a bed in there behind the driving seat.”

  “So, it was a very physical relationship?”

  “Yes, yes it was, essentially.”

  In a way, this was good. The less they had talked the better. The less he knew about the other party the better.

  “Were there feelings involved from either of you?” This was important and could potentially be used on the witness stand.

  “I wasn’t in love with him, or he with me, not really.”

  “OK, so he wouldn’t feel any loyalty towards you?”

  “Obviously not if he’s written a statement against me.”

  “You’d be surprised what criminals will stoop to once they are under pressure,” Imogen said wryly.

  “Why would he implicate me though?” He sounded annoyed suddenly, even affronted by this.

  “He might be offered a deal, if he dobs someone else in. He might get a lighter sentence by pleading guilty and giving up some other members of the gang to take the rap.”

  “Yes, but why me? For fuck’s sake, I never did anything to him. Surely there are others in the gang he could implicate?”

  “I have no idea, and we won’t know until we get him on the witness stand,” said Bernadette, “It could be too dangerous for him to betray the real criminals, you are an easy target.”

  “But they can’t prove I did anything!”

  “They don’t care about that. They just need to get you into the UK where you can be charged and prosecuted. In the process, the British Police will work you over to try and extract a confession, and then you are stuck in their justice system.”

  “Fuck! Fucking bastards!” said Callum upset now he saw what he was facing.

  “Fuck indeed, that’s what we are here for, to stop it.” Bernadette smiled at him sweetly.

  “What else do you need from me?”

  “We need some assurances, if we get bail then you’ll stay put where you’re meant to be, surrender your passport, and not try to do a runner,” said Imogen.

  “You’ve got it, I’ll stay with my Dad, he’ll see me right.”

  “OK, that’s good to know. You may be asked by the judge to give those same assurances to the court.”

  “I will agree to whatever they want.”

  “Good,” said Bernadette, “That’s what we want to hear.”

  “Can you? Get them to stop it?”

  “We’ll give it our best shot.”

  “And her best shot, is better than anyone else’s best shot, believe me,” Imogen added.

  Bernadette shrugged and smiled, modestly. She found it hard to take praise, even when it was merited.

  “She is the absolute best,” Imogen continued, noting Bernadette had slightly coloured up, “If anyone can get you off it’s Bernadette.”

  “Now, you’ve bigged me up, it’s probably time to go,” said Bernadette laughing.

  “Will I see you again?” Callum asked.

  “We will see you at the bail hearing, brief you beforehand, and once that’s over we can get down to business.”

  “Can you get me out of here, really?” he said with a worried expression.

  “We’ve got a good chance of it, yes.”

  “Relax,” said Imogen, “We’ve got this.”

  “OK.”

  They said goodbye, then called the guard to take Callum back to his wing.

  “We’ve got this?” said Bernadette chuckling as they walked back to the car.

  “Of course, we have, I’m running it, so yes,” Imogen said with a mock pout.

  “I admire your confidence, a lot different to last time.” Bernadette was still chuckling.

  “I learned from the best, I keep telling you, and plus I’m a Domme now, well, partly, so I’m feeling much more assertive these days,” Imogen laughed.

  “Ha! So! You finally admit your inner dominatrix, I knew it!” said Bernadette triumphantly, pressing the key to open the car doors.

  “Yes.” Imogen sighed sitting in the passenger seat and doing up her seatbelt. “I’ve struggled with this for a while, but really I’m going to have to admit that I’m the Domme and D’Arcy is the sub, in our relationship.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been doing some reading.” Bernadette raised an eyebrow, backed the car up and pulled out into the main road.

  “Yes, I have, so I’ve got all the terminology now, and some more techniques.”

  “So, I gather, and how does D’Arcy feel about this?”

  “Oh well, I’ve still got to broach it with her,” Imogen admitted her confidence deflating.

  “What are you like?”

  “I know, I’m all talk, no walk, except when it comes to the paddle,” said Imogen sadly.

  “Get the ring, ask her to marry you, worry about the other stuff later.”

  “Yes, you’re right, but…”

  “What?”

  “Are you going to tell Eve?”

  “Yes, but neither of us is going to tell D’Arcy if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  “Oh, phew, that’s OK then.”

  “As if.”

  The two of them went off into peals of laughter.

  ✽✽✽

  During the drive back, they stopped off to buy a sandwich to take back to the office for lunch.

  “We could go to Mamma Mia’s,” Imogen had suggested, but Bernadette said they should probably not go every day on expenses, particularly if they wanted to tackle Andrew about another PA.

  “Shall we talk to Andrew this afternoon?” Imogen asked her.

  “We could, I mean it wouldn’t hurt to broach it.”

  “Hopefully we’ll get those papers…” Imogen tailed off. Bernadette had been looking in the mirror rather more than usual as they were driving. “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know. It just feels like we are being followed,” said Bernadette.

  “What?”

  “Look around carefully, a black Merc, it’s been on our tail for a while. I tried a few turns which were not heading for the office and it was still there.”

  “Maybe they are just going the same way we are,” said Imogen subtly trying to crane her head around. She spent some time looking surreptitiously out of the back window. “Maybe you are right.”

  “You think?” Bernadette asked her anxiously.

  “I get a feeling about it, is all.”

  “I do too.”

  “OK.” Imogen began to sound worried. “What should we do?”

  “I don’t know, we could just act as if we don’t know and go back to the office.”

  “We could but I’m not totally down with that as a plan.”

  They both remembered how D’Arcy had been followed by her ex-lover who had turned out to be a psychopath plotting to kill her.

  “Get their number,” said Bernadette.

  Imogen looked again and wrote it down.

  “Got it.”

  “Great.” Bernadette reached for the button which activated her phone which was connected to the car controls. “Dial Olivia Thompson,” she said out loud.

  Imogen gave her a strange look but said nothing. DS Olivia Thompson was a detective who had been unwittingly involved in a couple of their court cases. Olivia was also sweet on Imogen which made Imogen feel awkward. However, Olivia was well aware of Imogen’s attachment to D’Arcy and in addition, Bernadette had set Olivia up with Carole Cooperson, a prosecution j
unior counsel. Hopefully, that was still going well.

  After two or three rings, Olivia answered, “If it isn’t Ms Mackenna.”

  “Hi,” said Bernadette.

  “Hello, and to what do I owe the pleasure?” came what sounded like a smiling response.

  “I need your help,” Bernadette said not in the frame of mind to engage in banter.

  “Oh?”

  “I’m driving back to the office from seeing my new client in Mountjoy and I think I’m being followed by a black Mercedes. We’ve got the registration.”

  “We?”

  “Imogen has it.”

  There was an audible chuckle. “Oh, Imogen too, well, a full house.”

  “Yes, but I don’t mind telling you, Olivia, I’m a bit scared, and so is Imogen,” said Bernadette who had started to feel quite anxious.

  “OK, well, tell me where you are and also the number of the Merc,” came the calm response.

  Imogen told Olivia, who said, “Just a moment.”

  The line went quiet and then it came on again.

  “Just keep driving, I’ve sent someone out to perform a routine traffic stop, you’ll see the car being pulled over, once it has been stopped, then go back to the office and meet me there. I’ll see what I can discover, OK?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Bernadette relieved.

  “That’s OK, I’ll make sure you are safe.”

  The line disconnected. Bernadette kept driving, and Imogen looked round to check on the car which was still there. Suddenly on a wide stretch of road, a Garda vehicle pulled out past the Merc with lights flashing and siren going. It slowed to a stop in front of the car and as soon as this happened Bernadette picked up speed and left it behind. In the rear-view mirror, she could see the Gardai getting out with a view to talking to the occupants of the car.

  “Phew,” said Imogen as they finally crossed the river and headed for the office.

  “See, Olivia does have her uses,” said Bernadette.

  “I know.” Imogen smiled. “I don’t mind so much now she’s stopped trying to hit on me.”

  Bernadette laughed. “She never really hit on you, darling, but I know she was sweet on you.”

  “You weren’t the one being hit on!”

  “Let’s hope she and Carole are all good then.”

  “Yes, I bloody well hope so, indeed.”