Craven Conflict

by David Cooper

  “What’s up?” Karen asked, finally putting the phone down.

  “I think I’ve found out who the flowers man is. His name’s Paul Craven. And he’s right here.” Dawn tapped her finger on the page in front of her.

  “Right where?”

  “In this feature. He’s joined BLH Solicitors. And they’re making out that Wayne introduced him.”

  “What?” Karen was dumbfounded. “You mean he came here first – and Wayne stole him?”

  Dawn nodded. “That’s what it looks like.”

  Just as Karen was about to reach for the paper, her phone rang. Recognising the number on the display, Karen made an apologetic gesture and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello, Michael…fine thanks, you too…you’re making him an offer? That’s great news…would you mind if I called you back? Bit of a crisis…thanks, bye.”

  Noticing that Karen was torn between looking at the article and dealing with whatever her caller had wanted, Dawn took the initiative and read it out.

  “Here goes. ‘Recently merged city centre firm BLH Solicitors have wasted no time in building up their strength, making a high profile move for commercial property specialist Harry Prentice and welcoming Paul Craven to their litigation team. This bold step is a sign of their clear intention to be recognised as a major player in the city.’”

  “But how do you know it was him?” Karen was only half concentrating on what Dawn was telling her, searching for a nearby client file at the same time.

  “There’s a photo. Four of them lined up on the steps. I’m as sure as I can be that it’s him. Thin and young looking. A bit lost.”

  “Let me see.” Karen had finally laid her hands on the client file. Putting it to one side, she leant over the desk to see where Dawn’s finger was pointing, before recoiling in horror.

  My God…

  “Are you all right?” Dawn could see that Karen had suddenly turned pale, but had no idea of what could have shocked her so deeply.

  “Yes…no, I mean…”

  “I’d better fetch you some water. Look, the article goes on a bit further. It’s all there.”

  Dawn passed the newspaper over and left Karen’s office. Still reeling from the sight of the photo, Karen read on, skimming over the next paragraph about the new property law recruit before reaching what she was looking for.

  ‘As he welcomed Paul Craven to the firm, litigation head Rufus Squire said “This is a really important move for BLH. Our team has never been stronger. We look forward to the challenges ahead.”’

  ‘With Mr Craven coming on board at BLH, this also provided a flying start for newly formed local staffing agency Wave Professional Recruitment, who introduced the two of them. “I am delighted to have worked with Wayne Avery and given him a leg up so soon in his new venture,” said Squire. “I look forward to a long and successful relationship between BLH and Wave.”’

  Karen could hardly bear to look again at the photo illustrating the article, but forced herself to do so. There was no mistaking the individual who had left such a lasting scar on her self esteem, all those months ago, ruthlessly dashing her renewed hopes as quickly as they had been raised.

  Dawn returned with a glass of water. Karen put the newspaper down, making sure that the text of the article was still visible, but not the photo. She paused for breath, and decided that the moment was not right to share her disturbed thoughts.

  “Sorry, Dawn, that’s really knocked me for six.”

  “I’m not surprised. Him and his brass neck. Anyway, I’m pretty sure that the one in the photo is the bloke who came in soaked to the skin. Let me just go and find that card…”

  Lost in thought, Karen finally managed to put her private turmoil aside and carefully went over what she knew and how it was affected by what she had just read.

  Those flowers came in on the Tuesday morning, the day after Wayne quit.

  Karen was in no doubt on that particular issue. She had set eyes on the flowers when she had stormed up to Dawn’s desk with the copy of the first defecting paralegal’s message, minutes after it had come in.

  Dawn thought it was Wayne playing silly buggers. But then she changed her mind and said it might have been the visitor whose jacket she had dried.

  She was convinced that the visitor must have been a candidate. It would be rare indeed for any law firm recruitment partners who were looking to take on a new member of staff, however desperate the need, to put themselves out and visit a headhunter’s office.

  So if that was the man who was in the office seeing Wayne during that week, when Wayne was still on Ripple’s payroll, he would have been a Ripple candidate. In that case, was he spirited away along with those three paralegals when Wayne cleared off…

  A dreadful thought crossed Karen’s mind. The card that accompanied the flowers had said something about thanking Dawn for her help, and how everything had gone so well.

  …or did Wayne place him at BLH before he left Ripple, and then somehow manage to take all the credit for himself?

  It suddenly occurred to Karen that one of Gemma Gabriel’s throwaway comments from the early morning interview might have been more enlightening than she could ever have realised. She quickly hunted for the photocopies of Avery’s desk diary pages that Dawn had unexpectedly produced out of thin air on the previous day, and flicked through to the curious entry from 14th March.

  ‘2.00 P.C.BASTARDS’

  It was undoubtedly an entry from the week before Avery had left Ripple.

  OK, if Bastards was a reference to Bastables, might PC have been Paul Craven?

  “Jesus Christ…” At that very moment, Dawn returned with the card that had accompanied the flowers.

  “Sorry, Karen, there’s no date on it, and the message was typed. And I’ve just looked on the system. There’s no sign of any recent file in the name of Craven.”

  “That might make it worse. There could have been a file and Wayne might have destroyed it.” Karen took the card and read it once more. “Whoever the mystery man is, he said ‘thanks for all your help – everything worked out really well’. So let’s assume for a moment that it’s Craven.” She could not bring herself to turn the newspaper over and confront herself with the photo again, and chose to point at the story. “And let’s suppose he’s thanking you with the flowers because he’s been offered the job. If the interview was in that previous week, Wayne must have introduced him at a time when he was working for me. Not for himself. In which case, Craven was one hundred per cent my asset.”

  “I see what you mean.” Dawn picked the paper up and read the last section of the article again. “I wonder if it’s all a mistake? Why don’t I give this Mr Squire a call and…”

  “No, you mustn’t. This is all getting complicated.” Dawn was puzzled at how quick Karen had been to disagree with her suggestion, but realised she was turning pale again and gave her the benefit of the doubt. “I’d better see what Lennie thinks of this. Can you just check once more whether Wayne left any paper files behind in this Craven bloke’s name, even if he never created them properly on the system? Once you’ve done that, can you write me a summary of everything you can remember about this – the wet jacket, how long he was here, anything he said, what made you think of him when the flowers arrived.”

  “No problem.” As Dawn hurried off, Karen’s relief at being left alone with her thoughts quickly gave way to a round of torment from inner demons she had tried her hardest to banish from her mind. It took all of her determination to shake them off and send an email to Lennie, asking to see him as urgently as possible.

  Wednesday 17 April

  Curious as he was to find out why Karen had insisted on discussing a ‘sensitive new issue’ face to face, rather than via email or phone, Lennie decided to let her do so at her own pace and in her own time. He welcomed her into the meeting room and poured her a coffee. The newspaper article that she had forwarded on the previous afternoon was alongside the rest of his papers on the table. It was a
few minutes after eight o’clock in the morning, but the early hour suited them both.

  “OK, Karen, let me tell you what I think first. Three possibilities. The first is that Craven followed Avery of his own accord. It’s pretty clear from the article in the Post that he only joined BLH after the two firms merged at the beginning of April, so it might have all fallen into place after you and Avery had split up.”

  The disappointment on Karen’s face was plain to see.

  “What about…”

  “Can I just put all three scenarios to you, then we’ll have a look at what we know.” Karen nodded. “The second is that Avery enticed Craven away from you after he’d resigned from Ripple, just as we say he enticed the three paralegals. The difficulty there is proving Craven was one of your candidates in the first place, when you don’t have any candidate file for him or any trace of him on your internal admin system. Then we come to the third, which would be fantastic for you in a legal sense.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Avery enticed Craven away from Ripple before he resigned. From what Dawn’s now told you, we shouldn’t rule this out. What that would mean, putting it plainly, is that Avery diverted a Ripple business opportunity for his personal benefit while he was still your employee. And while he was still a director of Ripple. That’s completely beyond the pale. If we can nail him with that, we can ask the court to award you whatever he was paid by BLH, or whatever fee you’d have made if you’d placed Craven. And it would increase your chances of getting the full injunction.”

  Lennie kept a completely straight face, not wanting to raise Karen’s hopes too highly. He pointed to the copies on the table in front of him.

  “Here’s the problem. This is only your side of the story, your best case on Craven. We don’t know theirs. All we have so far to back you up is the newspaper article, the card that was with the bunch of flowers, and everything that Dawn says she remembers. Not forgetting the ambiguous diary inscription either, the PC Bastards entry.”

  “That would be a nice one to twist back on him. If only we could read his mind.” Karen replied.

  “I agree. So overall, it’s a nice chain of coincidences, but here and now that’s as far as it goes. You’ve been completely honest with me that you can’t find any official file for Craven on Ripple’s systems. We don’t know when he was interviewed by Bastables, nor do we know when Avery arranged the interview.” Karen nodded again. “But we can make this a specific allegation in our Particulars of Claim. If we do that, Avery will have to tell us exactly what his side of the story is. And we can force him to disclose whatever papers he has, on how he got hold of Craven and how he introduced him to Bastables. That’s as far as it goes, though. Only as far as Avery.”

  “How come?”

  “You’re not suing Bastables or Craven. As a general rule, you can’t force either of them to disclose documents. There are exceptions, but they’re complicated, and we don’t have a great deal of time before the trial. So we might not be able to get hold of anything else about Craven. And Bastables are going to be no help, for two pretty clear reasons.”

  “That’s probably going to be three. That’s why I wanted to see you and tell you face to face.” Karen’s look of distaste was not lost on Lennie. “But can I have your reasons first? Let me just say that it’s not unknown in my line of business for law firms to be hoodwinked into paying the wrong agency.”

  “I thought not. OK, first up, there’s the fact that this firm BLH, as Bastables now call themselves, are acting for Avery in this litigation. I know it’s only the old Lewis Hackett division. But Avery surely wouldn’t have asked BLH to act for him if he knew deep down he’d not been straight with them about Craven. I’d have to say, there’s an outside chance they might have to think twice about carrying on acting for him. It’s all about conflict of interest, but I’ll spare you the technical detail.”

  “I can understand all of that. What’s your second reason?”

  “It’s right here.” Lennie picked up the newspaper report. “If you look at this puff piece here, all this talk about looking forward to a long and successful relationship between BLH and Wave Recruitment, it’s a pretty fair bet that they’re in each other’s pockets. As far as this Rufus Squire bloke is concerned, I’ve never had any professional dealings with him before, and he’s on the Bastables side of the practice…”

  Lennie paused for a moment. A sour episode from the distant past flickered across his mind. Many years ago, when he had despaired of ever making it to partner status at Thornbury & Summerson, he had tested the waters on the outside by securing himself an interview at the then much smaller practice of Bastable & Co. He had been left reeling at how much his interviewer had talked down to him when Lennie had questioned the emphasis he was placing on networking ahead of top quality client service. Once he had overcome the ordeal of the interview and the inevitable rejection, Lennie had soon decided after all that the grass was not greener elsewhere and that he ought to stay exactly where he was. He felt almost certain that the interviewer had been Squire. Karen’s interruption spared him the need to rake over long forgotten memories.

  “That brings me to the third reason. You’d better brace yourself.”

  “What for?” Lennie picked up his pen, putting it down straight away as he saw Karen bite her lip and look away. When Karen turned back to face him, it was plain that her expression was one of blazing anger.

  “Last summer, I had a fling with Rufus Squire. And he dumped me after three weeks, the very day after he’d promised me he’d leave his wife and make it permanent.”

  It was Lennie’s turn to look away, in sheer disbelief. After twenty years’ worth of litigation experience, he was no stranger to unexpected twists. But in the setting of a recruitment industry dispute that had so far only involved heated allegations of commercial wrongdoing, Karen’s news was a complete bombshell. When he caught her eye once more, her gaze of steel was undiminished.

  “Jesus Christ, Karen. I never expected that. I’m so sorry.”

  “No need for you to be sorry. That’s down to me. I just wish I’d never got involved with a complete and utter reptile like that in the first place. But if you’ll bear with me, I’d better tell you the whole story. You need to tell me if this will ruin my chances of winning this case. And I need to decide if I want my reputation shredded across the whole of Birmingham, if any of this comes out in public.”

  Lennie nodded.

  “Ready when you are.”

  “Well, it all goes back to the West Midlands Professionals’ Ball, last May or June…”

  * * * * *

  Ten months earlier

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “No, not at all. Take a seat.”

  “I’m Rufus Squire. Just doing my rounds, acting the dutiful committee member and all that. Damned parties. Bane of our lives!”

  Karen was startled by the braying laugh that followed her new companion’s contrived witticism. But in a curious way she found it endearing. At that time of the evening, it was never going to cross her mind that the copious quantity of wine she had already drunk might have clouded her judgment.

  “My name’s Karen. Karen Rutherford, from Ripple Birmingham. I’m a headhunter.”

  Squire made a show of picking up Karen’s place card and studying it, before doing the same with the card immediately in front of him. It was evident that the place setting where he had just sat down had not been disturbed throughout the meal.

  “So you were Dan Shields’ guest tonight? Well, I’m guessing he never turned up. Where was he?”

  “I’ve absolutely no idea.” Twenty four hours earlier, Karen had gratefully accepted a last minute invitation to the West Midlands Professionals’ Ball from an unattached solicitor friend who had found himself with a spare place on his firm’s table. But to her dismay, after she had made her own way to the Botanical Gardens venue, her host was nowhere to be found, and had failed to appear at all throughout the meal. “I’ve
rung him three times and there’s no answer.”

  “So you’ve been stood up. What rotten luck. This is the Hunter and Co party, isn’t it? Have they looked after you properly?”

  Karen was grateful for a sympathetic ear. She drained her wine glass, and Squire casually reached for a nearby bottle and refilled it, keeping the gesture as unobtrusive as he could.

  “Up to a point. Fiona Bingham’s been good company, but she’s disappeared.” Karen gestured to the empty chair on her right. “Probably on the dance floor. Last place I want to be right now. Wonder if I ought to call it a day.”

  Karen drank more wine. She was oblivious to the fact that Squire’s eyes had drifted from her face to her pendant and had not then ceased their downward path.

  “How are you getting home? I take it you’re not driving.”

  “Got it in one. Should have had a lift from Dan. I suppose I’ll have to brace myself for the taxi queue.”

  “Won’t be easy at this time of night, not when most of them are booked. Far to go?”

  “Not really, only Moseley.”

  “You could be in luck. I’m driving back to Barnt Green. It wouldn’t be that far out of my way to drop you off…”

  * * * * *

  “I think you can guess the rest.” Lennie nodded. “You can imagine that the quick one for the road I offered him when we were back at my place wasn’t going to be tea or coffee. And it didn’t stop there. Three weeks on, and we’d had two matinees and two early evenings. He’d covered himself perfectly, of course. Late finishes, hush hush meetings outside the office, all that. No one would suspect a thing. All this time, he’s telling me how his wife doesn’t understand him, giving me all this false charm, the full works. But I just lapped it up. Not remotely surprising, really, knowing how little success I’d had in that area over the last few years. Then we get to this Friday night…”

  The façade finally cracked and Karen paused to wipe away a tear.

  “Can I get you anything?” Lennie’s concern was genuine. He knew how much he needed to listen and to weigh up how far Karen’s unfolding story might affect her chances of winning. But he realised how painful it must be for her to recall an episode of this kind.