The Scribe

by A A Chaudhuri

  ‘How so?’

  ‘She’d look down on them. Make it clear she considered them inferior to her.’

  Carver found himself liking the victim less and less. Quite frankly, she sounded like a nasty piece of work. But it wasn’t his job to like or dislike his murder victims. Feelings didn’t come into it. It was his job to find their killer. Plain and simple. ‘And did your relationship remain frosty when she came to work here at Channing & Barton?’

  Frosty. That was a harsh word. It set Maddy on edge. She wriggled awkwardly in her seat, wanting the interrogation to be over.

  ‘I think frosty is a little extreme. It’s a large building and we were in different departments most of the time. Even when she did her six months in litigation, she sat with a partner and I had very little contact with her. He used her almost exclusively.’

  ‘Is that normal?’

  ‘It happens a lot, but largely depends on the partner and their workload.’

  ‘And was she good at her job? Well thought of, respected?’

  ‘Sarah was a good lawyer. And from what I understand, the partners thought a lot of her. I’d have been very surprised if she hadn’t been kept on.’ Maddy took a breather, working up the courage to continue.

  ‘But?’ Carver urged, his eyes narrowing. ‘There is a “but” coming, isn’t there?’

  ‘But, from what I heard, she didn’t make a lot of friends here. She alienated her fellow trainees, just like she did at law school. She didn’t socialise much, except when it was a client event.’

  ‘That’s not a crime, is it?’

  ‘No, of course not. It’s her, I mean, it was her life. But Channings is a very sociable firm, and the trainees and assistants go out a lot. For drinks after work, and such like.’

  ‘I’m surprised there’s time for socialising considering the hours you put in. That’s why you all get paid so much, right? Burning the midnight oil day after day.’

  Sarcasm underscored Carver’s question, and Maddy saw the resentment in his eyes. It irritated her, because who was he to judge? But she told herself to let it go. She didn’t know his background, plus he probably thought himself seriously underpaid considering the sick, twisted crap he had to deal with day in, day out.

  ‘Yes, we do put in very long hours, and that’s precisely why, when we do have the chance to let off some steam, it’s usually with our colleagues. Friends outside law get fed up of being let down time after time. They don’t understand that we have no choice.’

  ‘When was the last time you spoke to Sarah?’

  In a split second, Maddy’s mouth went dry. The room suddenly wasn’t cool enough.

  ‘Can I have a glass of water, please?’ she asked, her mind frantically trying to prepare a response. It was the wrong time to ask for water, a sure sign of her nerves; as if she had something to hide. But she needed a bit of breathing space and had acted on impulse. It was too late to backtrack.

  ‘Of course. Drake, please pour Ms Kramer some water.’

  Drake did as he was told and offered the glass to Maddy.

  She took it with thanks, managed a small sip, her hand not quite as steady as she’d have liked it to be. ‘Sorry, that’s better.’

  ‘When was the last time you spoke to Sarah?’ Carver repeated.

  ‘Last Friday.’

  ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘A fraud case I’m working on. Last week, I asked Mark Warren to get one of his trainees to prepare a research memo on insider trading. He asked Sarah. The memo she produced was good but needed a bit more detail. So, on Friday afternoon, I asked her to pop round to my office, so I could explain exactly what I wanted her to do.’ Maddy paused, then said, ‘Let’s just say she made it obvious that she resented me being her superior. I think it was too much for her ego.’

  ‘Did you argue?’

  Maddy filled her lungs, and despite being a committed atheist, found herself saying a silent prayer that she wasn’t about to land herself in even deeper shit.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘She accused me of deliberately making more work for her, just so I could play the I-am-your-boss card. I said she was being ridiculous, that ever since I’ve known her, she’s always had a chip on her shoulder, that she needed to stop acting like a diva and grow up.’

  Carver raised his eyebrows and suppressed a smile. This girl was no pushover. He found himself liking her, and not because of her beauty. Although that certainly hadn’t escaped him. She had personality, guts. Intuition bred from a blend of talent and experience told him she wasn’t a suspect, but he needed to hear her out all the same. ‘And how did she respond?’

  ‘She said I only got the job because the partners took pity on me, because I’m an orphan and because I fit the ethnic criteria, being half Asian.’

  Drake and Carver exchanged a brief look. ‘Harsh words,’ Carver said. His eyes drilled through her once more. ‘That must have been hard to hear.’ A pause. ‘Hard to digest.’ Another pause. ‘Hard to forget.’

  ‘It didn’t make me want to murder her, though,’ Maddy blurted out without thinking. Realising what she’d said, she felt herself redden. Stupid idiot way to go, Mads.

  ‘I never said it did,’ Carver replied. ‘But tell me, how did you respond?’

  ‘Rather childishly, I’m afraid. I told her she was blinded by ambition and had used her looks to get where she was.’

  Carver leaned forward slightly. ‘Her looks? Are you saying she slept around?’

  The conversation had steered into dangerous territory. She couldn’t back-pedal from what she’d started, but she feared she’d be making life very difficult for others.

  Maddy swallowed hard. ‘Yes. Sarah was a stunning girl and she attracted a lot of male attention.’

  ‘At law school?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘From other students her age, or did she aim a little higher?’

  Fuck. Now she was wading in mud. If she revealed his name, who knew what the implications might be for his reputation, his career, his marriage? But this was a police investigation, and there was no room for holding anything back. Besides, she was a terrible liar.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Can you give me some names?’

  Maddy squirmed in her seat, hating herself for exposing him, but again realising she had no choice. Reluctantly, she said, ‘It was pretty much common knowledge amongst our year that Sarah had a relationship with one of the professors.’

  ‘A sexual relationship?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘With who?’

  She hesitated. ‘Professor James Stirling. He taught Contract. Still does as far as I know.’

  A look of recognition passed between Carver and Drake. Clearly this last piece of information had struck a chord. Once more, Carver shifted his body weight forward, like a tiger smelling its kill. ‘Contract, you say?’

  ‘Yes. Is that relevant?’

  ‘Ms Kramer, I’d like to show you some photographs now. But I want you to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. They are extremely unpleasant.’

  She didn’t need him to spell it out. She knew what was coming. From nowhere, it felt like a lump the size of an orange had lodged itself in her throat. She tried to swallow it away, at the same time drawing in oxygen as if it was in short supply, preparing herself for the worst.

  ‘Okay,’ she nodded.

  Until now, she hadn’t really noticed the large brown envelope lying to one side of the desk. Carver picked it up, pulled out several photographs, then slid them across to her. Her hands shook as she scooped them up. For a second, she didn’t dare look down. But then she told herself to be strong and went for it. As she looked through them, one by one, nausea surged through her. It was the most harrowing sight she’d ever seen, made worse by the fact that she’d known the victim. She inhaled deeply to stop herself from gagging.

  ‘Take your time,’ Carver said gently. ‘I know it’s upsetting. But I need y
ou to think carefully and see if what’s written across Ms Morrell’s chest makes any sense to you.’

  Maddy knew the circumstances of Sarah’s death from news reports, but only now, by seeing the ghastly images with her own eyes, was she able to grasp what had stoked the fire in Carver and Drake.

  She looked at both men in turn. ‘Just because the killer inscribed “Contract” doesn’t mean it’s Professor Stirling.’

  ‘No, you’re right, it doesn’t, but it’s interesting, don’t you think?’

  Maddy shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess you could call it that. But I can’t believe it of Professor Stirling. I just can’t.’

  ‘Was he your lover too?’

  ‘No, certainly not! I’m not like that.’

  ‘Not cheap, you mean? Like Sarah?’

  The room was suddenly a pressure cooker. Has the air con stopped working? She felt like a witness under cross-examination, hit with quick-fire questions designed to catch her off guard, expose holes in her story.

  ‘Like I said, she took her ambition to unhealthy extremes. And there were rumours that—’

  ‘Rumours that what?’

  ‘Rumours that she used Stirling to get a training contract. He’s got a lot of clout in the City, including with this firm.’

  ‘Coleridge?’

  ‘I really don’t know,’ Maddy shook her head truthfully.

  ‘Do you know how long their relationship lasted?’

  ‘Maybe around six, seven months, I’m not sure, that’s my guess. I know she saw this other guy for a while. He was in the second year when we started.’

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Connor something or other. I genuinely can’t remember his surname.’

  It dawned on Maddy that she’d probably gone and incriminated another perfectly innocent guy. But a brief glance down at the photos told her it was the right thing to do. As much as she’d disliked Sarah, she hadn’t deserved this.

  ‘Okay, that’s fine. We’ll look into it. Do you know if Sarah and Stirling’s relationship ended mutually?’

  ‘Again, I don’t. We weren’t exactly in the habit of having heart-to-hearts.’

  ‘Do you know if Stirling had relationships with other female students? Whether he made a habit out of it?’

  ‘I don’t know if he made a habit out of it as such. But I am pretty sure he slept with another student in my year.’

  She’d fudged the truth there. She was almost certain Paige had slept with Stirling too, but she wasn’t about to land one of her best friends in it. If Carver was as good as he appeared to be, he’d find out soon enough.

  ‘What was her name?’

  ‘Lisa Ryland.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘A firm called Blackfields Symes, near Tower Bridge. She’s a property lawyer.’

  ‘Is Professor Stirling married?’

  ‘He was when I was at the academy. Still is as far as I know.’

  ‘Have you ever met his wife?’

  ‘No, I know very little about her, except that she used to be a concert cellist.’

  ‘Is he musical too?’

  What the hell does that have to do with anything? What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? Has he gone on this long with my colleagues?

  ‘I believe he plays the piano. I remember him being very keen on classical music. He’d urge us to listen to Beethoven as we revised. Said it would calm us down, focus our minds. How is that relevant?’

  ‘And what was your impression of Professor Stirling?’ Carver asked, ignoring her question. ‘You said you never slept with him, but did he ever proposition you?’

  Again, she had no choice but to be truthful.

  ‘Once, at the Christmas party, during my second year. He was pretty drunk, asked if I fancied going on somewhere after for a drink. I declined, and he backed off.’

  ‘Did he seem angry?’

  ‘No, not angry. His pride may have been a little wounded, but he certainly didn’t become aggressive, or treat me any differently going forward because I said no.’

  ‘Why did you reject him?’

  ‘He’s married, he was my tutor, he wasn’t my type. Is that enough for you?’

  She hadn’t meant to get aggressive, but the question had really pissed her off. It was insulting, and seemed pointless.

  Carver looked taken aback. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Let me put it another way. If he hadn’t been your tutor, or married, would you maybe have found him attractive?’

  ‘He’s a handsome man, and very intelligent. I can see why women find him attractive.’

  ‘But not you?’

  ‘No. As I said, he wasn’t my type.’ Maddy paused, debating in her mind whether to continue. Carver sensed her hesitation.

  ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’

  ‘Okay, so maybe I found him a little smarmy.’

  There was a brief lull as Carver weighed this up. To Maddy, it felt like hours.

  ‘Can I just ask something?’ She eventually broke the excruciating hush.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Have you been this thorough with everyone else you’ve interviewed so far? I mean, you’ve gone into a lot of detail with me, asked me a lot of personal questions.’

  Her determined gaze demanded an honest response.

  ‘Look, Ms Kramer, the last thing I want to do is upset or offend you. But the fact is, you’re the only one at the firm I’ve interviewed so far who attended law school with Ms Morrell. And as is often the way with police investigations, your answers to some of my questions have posed new questions which demand answers.’

  He was right, she saw that. It wasn’t his fault. He was doing his job and had asked all the right questions. Questions raised by her responses, like he said.

  ‘Just a few more questions, Ms Kramer, if you don’t mind, and then we’re done.’

  ‘Okay.’ She took another sip of water, suddenly feeling wilted. It had been a long, arduous week. She couldn’t wait to escape the firm and find sanctuary with her friends.

  ‘Was Sarah seeing anyone at Channings to your knowledge?’

  ‘No, not to my knowledge. As I said, I had far less to do with her here than when we were at the academy together.’

  ‘Okay, I understand.’ A pause, then, ‘I know it’s difficult, but I want you to take another look at this photo.’

  Maddy’s heart sank. She’d been hoping that was a one-time thing. But apparently not. Reluctantly, she glanced down at the photo Carver slid once more in front of her.

  ‘What comes to mind when you look at this? Aside from the obvious, I mean. Tell me what you see.’

  ‘I see the word “Contract” engraved across her chest.’

  ‘And what does the word “Contract” mean to you?’

  What kind of a question is that? She gave him a puzzled look, as if to emphasise its ridiculous nature.

  ‘I know it might seem like a stupid question, Ms Kramer, but sometimes, to solve an investigation, we need to break things down. Make things as simple as possible to find the answer.’

  Put that way, Maddy sort of understood. ‘It means an agreement made between two or more parties where there is offer, acceptance and consideration. Something that crops up in all areas of life, something which would have formed the basis of the matter Sarah had been working on the night she was murdered. Something core to Banking Law, a fundamental area of law we study at law school, and which all aspiring lawyers must master.’

  Carver appeared bowled over by the breadth of Maddy’s response. ‘Okay, that’s really helpful, Ms Kramer. I have one last question.’

  ‘Yes?’ She could almost taste the red wine she planned on glugging in a few hours’ time.

  It was the obvious question. One that everybody on Channing & Barton’s payroll would be asked.

  ‘Where were you the night Ms Morrell was murdered?’

  She didn’t hesitate. ‘I was at home.’

  ‘Can anyone vouch for you?’ />
  ‘No, I was alone,’ she replied boldly. ‘You’ll just have to take my word for it.’

  ‘You live alone?’

  ‘No, I live with my flatmate, Paul. He’s a writer, but works nights in a bar. I was in bed by the time he got home.’

  ‘Okay, Ms Kramer, thank you. You’ve been most cooperative. We’re done for now.’

  ‘For now?’ she repeated.

  ‘Because of what you’ve told us this afternoon, particularly your history with Ms Morrell at law school, we may need your help with our investigation going forward. That’s all.’

  What could she say to that? She knew what he meant. He was referring to Professor Stirling and that Connor guy, poor sod. And goodness knows who else Sarah had got her claws into at the academy.

  At least she’d been level with him about her row with Sarah. It felt good to get that off her chest. He didn’t give much away, but she didn’t think Carver considered her a suspect.

  For now, she could go back to her office and try her best to ignore the fear and suspicion blackening her firm.

  ***

  ‘What do you think, sir?’ Drake asked after Maddy had left.

  ‘She’s not a suspect,’ Carver said with conviction. ‘As far as I could tell, she wasn’t holding anything back. And she’s given us some very useful leads.’

  Carver had so far found himself riddled with frustration. He liked to move quickly, make progress. But not one of the ninety members of staff he’d interviewed so far had given him much to chew on. Like Kramer had confirmed, Sarah hadn’t socialised much with her peers, seemingly wedded to her work, to impressing the partners. And because no one at the firm, aside from Kramer, appeared to have known Sarah before she came to Channing & Barton, extracting any useful information about her life before Channings had been a dead end.