Tug Of Law (Bernadette Mackenna Cases Book 4)

by D. R. Bailey

  “God yes, I’m so happy to have it taken out of my control. I was procrastinating like anything.”

  “I didn’t like to say anything, but…” Imogen laughed.

  “I’ve no idea what she’s doing but I expect she’ll be contacting you, and D’Arcy too.”

  “My lips will be sealed, so don’t go trying to find out.”

  “I won’t, don’t worry. I’m happy for it to be a big surprise, and one I’m really looking forward to. Eve is right, it will help with my insecurities for us to get married. I try not to have them, but I do.”

  “I know, darling.” Imogen put her hand out and took Bernadette’s hand in. “This is the best thing ever for both of you.”

  “I know.”

  They smiled at each other.

  Bernadette continued, “We really enjoyed the hotel, we are very grateful to D’Arcy and you, for the private jet, and the suite, all of it, it was amazing. I’ve never stayed in such luxurious surroundings and I’m sure Eve hasn’t.”

  “Do you think I have? Well, apart from at D’Arcy’s. I enjoyed it too, both of us did.”

  “Get used to it then, this is your life from now on.”

  “I know, I am starting to feel it’s a bit more normal.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “So back to the case, shall we try to see Callum today?” Imogen suggested.

  “Yes, why not, let’s see what else we can get out of him.”

  “OK, I will set it up.”

  “We should speak to Olivia too.”

  “I’ll set it up. What about the prehearing conference?”

  “Have we got a date?”

  “I will chase the court up about it.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “Right, now I’ve given myself all this work to do, I’d better get on with it,” said Imogen draining her cup.

  “OK, darling, let me know when we need to go.”

  Imogen smiled at her and blew her a kiss as she left the room.

  ✽✽✽

  Olivia sat at her usual seat on the sofa with a cup of tea. They were seeing Callum in the afternoon, and Imogen had called up Olivia to come over for a chat. Olivia stirred her tea with her customary deliberation. Bernadette and Imogen sipped their coffee and waited. Olivia took a sip and then another with evident satisfaction.

  “Is there something in the water here?” she wondered out loud, “Or is it just the way you make it. I mean, even my tea at home isn’t this good. What is it you are doing, some kind of magic tea ritual?”

  “Her fiancée is a witch, so maybe that’s it,” said Imogen.

  “Whatever it is you’ve got me hooked.”

  “Maybe it’s the tea plus the good company,” Bernadette suggested with a smile.

  “Now, I can’t argue with that.” Olivia took another sip and set the cup down. “So, apparently you had some interesting news?”

  “Yes, one of the refugees is willing to testify at the hearing and we have an affidavit from her.”

  “Really? That is interesting. And what has she said?”

  “She said they were boarded on the truck Callum drove in Ireland and put into flour barrels. They didn’t recognise the name Callum, nor did they see him, but she did hear the name Omer, she thinks,” Imogen told her.

  “Is that a fact? Impressive work.”

  “All the more so since they refused to talk to the Metropolitan detectives. But our witness has a conscience at least in terms of not letting an innocent man go to prison,” Imogen pressed on encouraged by the positive response from Olivia so far.

  Olivia took a few more sips of her tea. “It’s certainly noteworthy and I assume you are aiming to preserve anonymity. But I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.”

  Imogen and Bernadette exchanged disappointed glances. They had hoped Olivia would bite.

  “Well,” Imogen said tentatively, “We thought maybe it was something you might think was useful, I mean, a witness who can confirm they were put on board over here. They might recognise the place. They said they were in a big shed sort of place which is consistent with the yard of Balik Transport.”

  “True, there is that. But it’s not very substantial in terms of evidence. If she had eyeballed any of the people, it might be more helpful. Also, she’s in the UK so I can’t see how it can assist our case.” Olivia shrugged.

  A frown appeared briefly on Imogen’s face at this, she felt Olivia was being obtuse and almost deliberately so. Bernadette noticed and decided to try a different tack.

  “What if she wasn’t in the UK?” she said.

  “Oh well, of course, we might find it easier to interview her.”

  “What if you pulled some strings. If she was a material witness and was able to fast-track refugee status or more, then she might be persuaded to come here.”

  Olivia seemed amused as opposed to taken with this suggestion. “OK, I’m not sure what you think my superpowers are, but pulling those sorts of stunts are potentially way above my pay grade.”

  “Oh,” said Bernadette unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

  “I’m a Detective Sergeant, not Superwoman,” Olivia laughed.

  “But you could try?” Imogen suggested unwilling to give it up so easily.

  “I will have a chat with my super, it so happens I’m in good odour with him at the moment. He might have some ideas. Bear in mind if she was to become part of our investigation it makes her a target and then we are probably into protective custody or putting her in a safe house, it all costs money. I have to be able to show a return in our investment.”

  “Her life isn’t what I’d call an investment,” said Bernadette with some acidity, peeved at this negative response, “She’s a human being.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” Olivia was instantly contrite. “I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. The powers that be are unfortunately not always as humanity oriented as you or I.”

  “Yes, well,” Bernadette said a little more mollified.

  “Let me think on it, that’s all I can do.”

  “OK.”

  “In the meantime, we’ve had Balik Transport under surveillance,” Olivia continued, “Some of the employees have certainly got form, and have previous connections to criminal gangs.”

  “Have you found out anything useful?” Imogen ventured although she was still annoyed Olivia her scheme had not found favour.

  “Nothing we can move on as yet. You’ll appreciate if we are going to raid the place then we can only do it once and when we think we can catch them in the act. Our other option is to put someone in undercover but it’s dangerous, certainly for them and us. If they are found out it will blow our investigation wide open.”

  “So, in a nutshell, you haven’t got much further,” said Bernadette with something of an air of finality.

  “It’s early days,” Olivia laughed, “I know you’re hoping for something to help your case, but we may not get that far, I just don’t know.”

  “Right.”

  “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but if I find anything you can use, I’ll tell you right away, I promise,” said Olivia evidently trying to be conciliatory.

  “OK.”

  “I want to help you,” said Olivia earnestly, “I really do, but you have to give it some time.”

  “You just want our tea,” Imogen shot back.

  “Ouch, now that is a low blow.”

  “She doesn’t mean it, she’s just passionate about things,” Bernadette put in smoothly, “You are welcome here anytime.”

  “Passion, now that’s something I can get behind.” Olivia laughed seemingly unfazed by Imogen’s attack.

  “How’s Carole?” asked Bernadette feeling a change of subject was in order and noting the mulish expression on Imogen’s face.

  “Ah Carole, the delectable darling Carole, now she’s passionate, oh yes.”

  “It�
��s nice to hear.”

  “Things are in a good place with Carole after, shall we say, a bit of a rocky start. In fact, it’s possible there might be love on the horizon if we can stick the course.” Olivia smiled.

  “So, it’s getting serious then?”

  “It might be, I’m certainly getting feelings and I think she is too. We are spending more time together, so fingers crossed.”

  “I’m happy for you both,” Bernadette said conscious of Imogen’s withdrawal from the proceedings.

  “Anyway.” Olivia drained her cup. “Much as I love your delicious tea, and that really is a love match for me, I’ve got to go. As I said, I will keep you in the loop I promise.”

  “OK, thanks.”

  “Don’t get up, I’ll see myself out.” Olivia smiled faintly. She sauntered out the door closing it quietly behind.

  “God, I’d like to give her a sound spanking!” said Imogen as soon as she had gone.

  “This seems to have become your ‘go to’ remedy for everything lately,” Bernadette observed wryly.

  “Well, cheeky cow, poo pooing my idea like that!”

  “She didn’t exactly poo-poo it, she just didn’t feel she could act on it, it’s not the same.”

  “Well, even so, she makes me cross.”

  “Now who is being the brat?” Bernadette laughed.

  “Oh stop! I know I need to curb my temper, I really do,” Imogen sighed.

  “She’s actually been very helpful to us on more than one occasion and it behoves us to keep on her good side.”

  “You’re right, I know you are. I probably need taking in hand like Eve.”

  “You do not!” said Bernadette emphatically, “And certainly not in the way I know you are about to suggest.”

  “You’re no fun as a boss, do you know that?”

  “You could have had that sort of fun with Shane, it was on offer, but you didn’t want it,” Bernadette pointed out.

  “Don’t remind me. Oh God forbid, it would have been a nightmare.”

  “There you are then.”

  “But it would be different with you,” said Imogen pouting.

  “Imogen! I know you are joking but…” Bernadette said, suddenly wondering if there was more to it and hoping there wasn’t.

  “Of course, I am silly. Well… half joking. I mean, imagine if you and me had been an item… wouldn’t it have been explosive?”

  “God, you’re incorrigible. You know you’ve crossed so many professional lines lately I do not even know where to begin!” Bernadette said laughing with exasperation.

  “But you love me just the same.” Imogen fluttered her eyelashes.

  Bernadette sighed. “Yes, yes I do. I could hardly have expected this kind of relationship with any junior counsel let alone a partner. You’re more than just a friend to me now, you’re like my family. I would be lost without you.”

  “And you let me get away with so much banter, it’s great.”

  “I do and I will, and you know I will.”

  “Yes, and I adore you, darling. I practically worship the ground you walk on,” said Imogen sincerely.

  “Shouldn’t you save that for D’Arcy?”

  “Oh, now I’d let her walk on me in stilettoes.” Imogen laughed. “Coming to think of it…”

  “Tonight’s game is it?”

  “It might well be, though she’ll have to be careful.”

  Bernadette laid back her head and laughed at this. “What are you like?”

  “I’m the best junior partner you’ll ever have.”

  “True and on that note, I’ll treat you to lunch at Mamma Mia’s.”

  “Sold!”

  ✽✽✽

  After an amiable lunch at Mamma Mia’s, one of their favourite haunts, they headed for Jenkins Transport. It was situated west of Dublin near a place called Dunboyne. Rhys had bought a large sprawling estate with a manor house and then created a transport yard in the grounds, having secured a change of use. They drove into the estate via some large wrought iron gates and down a long sweeping drive with trees on either side. Apparently, there was a separate entrance to the transport yard, but they were going to see Callum who was staying at home as his bail conditions required.

  They pulled up in front of a large redbrick two-story building which looked far bigger than was needed for one man and his son. Perhaps, mused Bernadette, he’d had plans for a large family. Bernadette parked her car, she and Imogen walked across the loose shingle to a set of steps leading up to the old house. The front door was opened by a man in a black suit, white shirt and tie. It was instantly recognisable as standard security garb.

  “Bernadette Mackenna,” she began, but was cut short.

  “Yes, Mr Jenkins is expecting you, if you would just go through to that door on your right,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  She and Imogen followed the direction in which his hand had been pointing and their heels click clacked on the highly polished wooden floor. There was a majestic staircase leading to the first floor and a landing which appeared to go all the way around on both sides. They entered a large living room which was nicely appointed with a large open fireplace at one end, sofas and chairs. Rhys and Callum, who had been sitting down by the fireplace, immediately rose to greet them. Even though it was early summer there was a fire burning in the grate which gave the place a cosy atmosphere.

  “Hello, hello,” said Rhys shaking their hands, “Please come in and take a seat, I’ll order up some coffee.”

  “That would be nice, thank you,” said Bernadette.

  Rhys pressed a button which evidently summoned a maid in short order who was asked to provide refreshments.

  “Hello, Callum, how are you doing?” Imogen asked as they sat down on one of the sofas.

  “Oh, fine, I suppose, all things considered,” Callum replied, “Obviously I can’t go anywhere so I’ve been amusing myself at home best I can.”

  “It’s good to have him home for a while,” said Rhys grinning at him affectionately.

  “Well, at least he’s happy,” Callum quipped.

  “It’s better than being in prison though,” said Bernadette mildly.

  “Yes, yes,” Callum said suddenly becoming more serious, “Of course that’s hanging over me no matter what I do.”

  “I know and I’m sorry, but we’ve come to update you on things, and also to ask you a few more questions, if that’s OK.”

  “By all means.”

  “Is it alright if I stay?” Rhys asked tentatively.

  “If it’s OK with your son,” Bernadette responded at once, and wondered if his father was now aware of his son’s sexual orientation.

  “Yes, I won’t keep secrets from my Da, not anymore,” said Callum.

  “I know about him being gay, if that’s what you are worried about,” Rhys put in, “He told me the other day, but I had already guessed it to be fair.”

  “That is often the case,” Bernadette said with a smile.

  “So, there’s not much you can say which I probably don’t know.”

  “Good, good, which makes it easier, well, I’ll start with where we are up to.” Bernadette explained they now had a witness. She decided not to mention Balik Transport was under scrutiny but did say they had visited it and met with little success. The less people were aware of the investigation, the better.

  “Do you have a strategy, for the hearing?” Rhys asked her.

  “We do. We now have a witness from the women who were trafficked. They were put on, it turns out, in Ireland. She will testify to that. She also didn’t recognise the photograph of Callum we showed her nor heard his name. Not that this really proves anything that can’t be argued with by the prosecution.”

  “Then why put her on?” Rhys said at once.

  “Because it adds weight to our assertion and it brings in a stronger possibility of doubt for the judge, every doubt we can put into the judge’s min
d is another step to dismissing the extradition request,” Imogen told him.

  “Oh, right, I see. Sorry, I… err… you’re the professionals.”

  “Yes, yes we are,” said Imogen assertively.

  “Sorry.”

  “Right, well, we are planning to go on the attack with Kevin, who is their main witness. Who I am sure you know by now was Callum’s lover,” Bernadette continued.

  “Yes, he told me.”

  Rhys and Callum exchanged looks. Rhys’ was reassuring and Callum’s seeking understanding from his father.

  “We’ve every reason to believe he’s implicating Callum because he’s been offered a deal by the Crown prosecution and it’s easy for him to name Callum.”

  “What! Fucking little toe rag!” Rhys expostulated jumping up and then taking a turnabout the room in agitation.

  “Sit down, Da, come on,” Callum said.

  “It just pisses me off that my son has to take the rap for something he didn’t do just because… because…”

  “Yes, and it does us too, that’s why we intend to try and shred him on the stand,” said Bernadette.

  “I’d like to fucking well shred him!” Rhys muttered very darkly.

  “Dad!” said Cameron looking a little embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, I just get worked up.” Rhys came back and resumed his seat.

  “It’s quite alright, we understand. We get worked up too, but we save it for court,” Bernadette said in soothing tones.

  Just then the maid arrived. She was pretty, Bernadette reflected watching her lay out the tea and coffee things on the coffee table. She was probably around thirty five with short blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bow mouth. The maid was dressed in a black skirt with a white top and apron, and what seemed to be excessively high heels. She recognised them as Louboutin and the outfit also looked expensive. It also looked rather anachronistic.

  “Thanks, Pet,” said Rhys.

  She shot curtsied and left the room.

  “Petra’s Polish,” said Rhys, “You’re probably wondering why she’s dressed like that. Call me old fashioned I suppose. I’m a bit of a traditionalist.”

  “Come on, Da, she’s your Polish girlfriend for fuck’s sake, she’s not the fucking maid. She just dresses like that because you asked her to,” said Callum bluntly.