Death By Dangerous

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by Death By Dangerous (epub)


  The part she couldn’t fathom was ‘05man’. It had to mean 5am, Manchester. But the deceased was in the car at around 5pm. One thing was for sure, she had planned to meet Anderson. Had he been aware of that meeting? Adey cursed. Rather than finding the evidence that proved Anderson’s guilt, the mystery had only deepened.

  Once she’d finished, Adey handed Taylor a wad for copying. The thought of taking the piece of paper without revealing its existence to Taylor had occurred to her, but that would forgo the ability to prove where it was recovered. ‘You missed this; I’ll take a copy,’ she said, thrusting the note under Taylor’s nose.

  He scrutinized the contents, then Adey’s face.

  ‘You’re not going to suggest I put it there?’ she asked, reading his mind.

  Taylor took the bundle of documents for copying. ‘Of course not.’ He’d dismissed the possibility of a plant, only because he couldn’t see how it could help Anderson’s case, and he wasn’t in the least bit surprised that traffic had missed it.

  Once he came back Adey pressed Taylor for more information: ‘Have you tried to cell-site the numbers in the deceased’s phone?’

  ‘You are joking?’ scoffed Taylor. ‘Do you know how much an expert charges for that?’ But it was a reasonable request. He’d already asked Armstrong to authorise it. He’d refused on the basis that it couldn’t assist the prosecution and the cost couldn’t be justified. Taylor was more interested in doing right by the deceased. After all, she was someone’s daughter, or even mother. Her family could be wondering where she was. It wasn’t in his nature to just leave things hanging like this.

  Adey persisted: ‘We need to know who she was. It’s a proper line of enquiry.’ ‘Tell it to the CPS,’ Taylor replied, seemingly unmoved.

  Adey made to leave.

  ‘Just a minute.’ Taylor had a thought. ‘Look, why don’t you try and get the judge to order us to do it. Or make a third party application. We both want to know who she was.’

  Adey hadn’t expected that. This copper seemed all right.

  ‘Don’t go telling anyone I suggested that,’ he said.

  Chapter 43

  The car park was deserted, other than Ahmed sitting in his Bentley. He flashed his headlights.

  Hussain weaved his way around the potholes full of rainwater towards the vehicle. He opened the passenger door and climbed in. He could smell the leather seats. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Just an update on the case, my friend.’

  Hussain studied Ahmed’s face. ‘Why do you care so much?’

  ‘I don’t like prosecutors. Especially good ones.’

  ‘Or you had something to do with the crash? People died.’

  ‘Be careful what you say to me, Tahir.’

  Hussain stared out through the windscreen, unable to bear the sight of the man next to him.

  ‘A little bird tells me you’ve listed the case for a mention hearing tomorrow. Trying to get disclosure?’

  Hussain wasn’t surprised that Ahmed knew. He had informants everywhere, even in the police. ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘Make sure you don’t try too hard. You will remember to lose?’

  Hussain cringed on hearing his part of the bargain repeated. ‘I’ve got to make it convincing.’

  ‘Look at me,’ Ahmed demanded.

  Hussain turned his head and held Ahmed’s gaze. He could see the evil in his eyes.

  ‘Just remember how unlucky you are with children, Tahir.’ He grinned. ‘I’m not sure your wife could cope with losing another.’

  Hussain made to grab Ahmed’s collar, then stopped, only just managing to control himself. He thrust the door open and got out. Before Hussain was able to slam the door shut, Ahmed said, ‘I’ll be watching you.’

  Chapter 44

  ‘Third party application by the defence in the case of Anderson, Your Honour.’ The court clerk handed the file up to the judge.

  His Honour Judge Cranston looked at Hussain, who was already on his feet. ‘Yes, I’ve read the application, Mr Khan.’

  ‘It’s Hussain, Your Honour.’

  The judge ignored the correction.

  ‘Your Honour will have seen from the defence statement that our case focuses on the mystery surrounding Heena Butt, one of the deceased, and the issue of why she was in the vehicle at the time of the crash. By investigating the provenance of the telephone numbers in the deceased’s contacts, and cell-siting the phones at least on the day of the crash, we may be able to ascertain not only who she was, but also her movements on that fateful day.’

  ‘Miss Stapleton, what do you say?’

  Hannah Stapleton rose to her feet with all the gravitas of a successful silk. ‘Well, it’s very vague, Your Honour. Firstly, how does any of this deal with the real issue in the case, whether or not the defendant fell asleep whilst driving? We haven’t been served with any defence expert report dealing with that. Secondly, as I am sure Your Honour knows, we are a week from trial and it could take months for the network providers to find and disclose the information. It would inevitably mean vacating the trial date.’

  ‘Yes, I agree, this is a hopeless application, nothing more than a fishing expedition.’

  Hussain was back on his feet. ‘But, Your Honour—’

  ‘Mr Hussain! I’ve made my ruling. Call on the next case.’

  Hussain called Adey from the robing room with the bad news. She was now on the case full-time, which was killing the practice. ‘Another brick wall. You got anything?’ he asked, in hope rather than expectation.

  ‘’Fraid not. Been following Connor’s pupil all morning. Total waste of time.’

  ‘Tilly?’

  ‘Yeah. Back where it all began, believe it or not – Starbucks. She’s just bought a coffee.’

  ‘Leave it now, Adey. We can’t afford to waste any more time on her. Let’s take stock at my house this evening.’

  Adey was disappointed. Her instincts told her there was something here to know. ‘All right,’ she said, giving up her place in the queue. ‘Oh, hang on!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘She’s got her laptop out.’

  ‘All right, ten minutes.’

  Adey had already hung up. She sat down and got her own laptop out and waited. Bingo. Tilly had logged into the coffee shop Wi-Fi – an insecure network. It took Adey all of ten seconds to hack in and see what Tilly was doing. Writing emails in her personal account. Perfect. Adey was soon reading emails, sent and received. A few sickly exchanges with a boyfriend – Josh. She got the impression he was working abroad, possibly in the armed forces. Also a few emails from Connor. Strange they weren’t on the chambers email address. ‘Oh my!’ Adey said out loud as she read the contents. The exchanges started as a bit of flirty fun, but became increasingly explicit. No doubt about it, Connor was sleeping with Tilly, and had been at the time of the crash. Why the hell had she been sidling up to Anderson in Starbucks?

  Perhaps the day hadn’t been completely wasted.

  Chapter 45

  Despite his leg, Anderson’s step quickened down Water Lane.

  The walk from the station to what had been the marital home was only fifteen minutes, but his desperation for answers made it seem like an eternity.

  Hussain’s revelation about Mia’s infidelity was eating him up. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t even know if he still loved her – ever really loved her. Perhaps it was the humiliation – the rejection – the not knowing that he couldn’t stand. He was going to get the truth. It had to be face-to-face, while the kids were at school.

  He hurried up the garden path, despite his injury. The place seemed different, alien almost. Anderson knocked and waited, fidgeting nervously.

  The door was flung open, then a flicker of disappointment crept across Mia’s face. ‘Oh, it’s you. What do you want?’

  ‘Were you expecting someone else?’ His jealousy had revealed his hand in the first question.

  Mia held the door firmly, preparing for battle. ‘I think
you’d better go. You know the children aren’t here.’

  Such coldness. He’d looked after her all these years and this was his reward. Tossed out like an old pair of shoes. ‘Can I come in?’

  Mia remained resolute.

  ‘Please? Just for a few minutes? I don’t want to do this on the doorstep.’

  Sighing, she relented. She led him into the kitchen. ‘Make it quick.’

  This time he disguised his emotions. ‘I was worried about you, Mia. Whether you had enough money?’

  ‘You know, I get by. I have some savings, but there was no point asking you. You haven’t got any.’

  A bleep from a mobile on the worktop – a text − pulling Mia’s eyes. Anderson’s followed. They both froze for a moment, then Anderson moved towards the handset. Mia lunged, clumsily grabbing hold of it. Anderson gripped her arm. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘None of your business.’ Mia jutted out her chin, her eyes wide with mockery, enjoying her husband’s pain and her power over him.

  Anderson tried to wrestle the phone from her grasp.

  ‘What are you going to do, hit me?’

  Anderson stopped, surprised by the question. ‘Hit you? I’ve never hit you.’

  Mia pulled away victorious. ‘I think you’d better leave. Go on, get out.’

  Anderson could see her contempt for him. ‘I know you’re seeing someone. I have a right to be told who. Is it someone I know?’

  ‘My personal life is none of your concern, now piss off, John.’

  He opened his mouth to protest but there was no point. And he didn’t have the strength. Silently he turned and shambled out into the garden. The slam of the front door made him flinch. His legs buckled. Something from deep within stopped him falling. He straightened up, and limping slightly, headed back towards the station.

  His phone rang. His first thought was Mia. Maybe she wanted to apologise? He checked the screen: ‘unknown’.

  ‘Hello?’ All he could hear was laughter. Male.

  ‘Hello? Who is this?’

  ‘You’re a—’

  The obscenity took his breath away.

  ‘You’re going down.’ More laughter.

  ‘Who is this?’

  The call ended.

  Anderson was stunned. He didn’t recognise the voice. It could’ve been Tredwell’s. He seemed to have so many enemies. So few friends.

  *

  The platform at Wilmslow station was empty. Anderson stood, contemplating his life. Why couldn’t he just give up, throw himself under a train? They’d all be better off without him. Even the boys.

  The crackle from the tracks signalled an approaching train. He took a step forward to the platform’s edge. Then…

  The train arrived. Anderson had missed his opportunity. What was that blasted thing inside that made him carry on?

  Hope.

  Anderson alighted at Piccadilly, still shaken by his earlier thoughts. He trudged back to the flat.

  On entering he heard a voice call out a greeting. It startled him.

  Orlando West appeared in the hallway, still wearing his coat. ‘Hello, old chap. Didn’t want to scare you. Wanted a chat.’ West went on nervously: ‘Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in?’

  After an uncomfortable silence, Anderson replied, ‘No, of course not, it’s your flat after all. What’s up?’ Anderson had never seen West so unsure of himself.

  ‘It’s the apartment. You know, with the trial on Monday.’ West held out his hands, palms up in a gesture of resignation.

  Anderson was slow to catch on. ‘I don’t get what you mean, Orlando?’

  ‘Chambers had a vote. They think it’s inappropriate for you to stay here during the trial. We must be seen to take a neutral stance.’

  ‘But… it’s your flat.’

  ‘I know, but I can’t run roughshod over the will of chambers. I am the head, after all. You understand, old chap. But I’ll still be giving character evidence.’

  Anderson watched West reach for the front door, desperate to avoid any further discussion. Anderson could only mutter, ‘Right, OK.’ Then: ‘And thanks for the use of it. I’m really grateful.’

  ‘Not a word of it,’ replied Anderson’s old pupil-master as he disappeared out of the door. Then, over his shoulder: ‘Need you out by Sunday. There’s a good fellow.’

  Anderson closed the door.

  He prayed for the end.

  Chapter 46

  ‘Can you stand still for five minutes, Tahir?’

  Safa’s husband didn’t hear her, but kept striding up and down the kitchen. The smell of saffron filled the air. Anderson and Adey were coming to the house for a final con before the trial on Monday.

  Hussain felt he’d achieved nothing since getting involved. But that wasn’t why he was pacing like a caged animal.

  ‘I knew you shouldn’t have got involved. You couldn’t walk away, could you?’ chided Safa. ‘What’s Anderson ever done for you anyway?’

  ‘Hush woman. Stop your nagging.’

  ‘You stopped him. He was going to plead guilty. What if Ahmed finds out?’

  ‘He won’t.’

  ‘Tell me exactly what he said?’

  ‘I’ve already told you a hundred times.’

  A knock at the door stopped the argument from escalating. ‘You’d better not let Anderson know anything about this,’ Hussain warned his wife.

  It was Adey who had arrived first. She took one look at Hussain’s face and knew something was up.

  ‘Don’t ask!’ he snapped, leading Adey into the kitchen.

  She exchanged concerned glances with Safa.

  Anderson’s arrival seconds later prevented any discussion between the two most important women in Hussain’s life, much to his relief.

  Adey noticed Anderson’s appearance had deteriorated further in the short time that she’d not seen him. He’d lost more weight and looked exhausted. An unexpected rush of affection overcame her.

  ‘Are you OK, John?’ asked Hussain, having made the same observations as Adey.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he replied wearily. ‘I’ve just seen Orlando West. He’s told me I’ve got to leave the flat.’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘No. He doesn’t want me staying there during the trial.’ Anderson slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. The abandonment of his only real friend had taken its toll. ‘Says it’s unfair on chambers to be associated with me when we don’t know which way it will go. He was very apologetic.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Adey replied. ‘He’s punishing you for not pleading guilty.’

  ‘And for instructing me,’ added Hussain, shooting his wife a look that only a spouse could read. She imperceptibly shook her head. Anderson would have to find somewhere else to stay.

  Anderson shrugged. ‘Oh, and someone rung me up to tell me I’m a – well – the “c” word − that I’m going to prison. Excuse my French.’

  ‘Give me your phone,’ demanded Adey. ‘Have you got a number?’

  ‘Unknown caller,’ replied Anderson, handing it over.

  Adey pressed a few buttons and started making notes.

  ‘Do you think it was Tredwell? Should I report it to Taylor?’

  ‘What’s the point?’ replied Adey. ‘Half of Manchester thinks you’re a—’

  ‘Thank you, Adey,’ interjected Hussain in a tone of mild rebuke. He could see Anderson wasn’t in any state to receive more knocks right now. ‘Of course it could be Tredwell. But it could also be a random nutcase. That line is going nowhere for us, John.’

  ‘So what line of enquiry is going somewhere?’ Anderson asked. ‘It’s Friday night, the trial is on Monday. From where I’m sitting, we’ve got absolutely nothing – no defence.’

  Nobody spoke.

  Eventually, Adey offered all she had: ‘Connor and Tilly are an item and were at the time of the crash.’

  ‘And?’ replied Anderson, only mildly interested.

  ‘And nothing,’ said Adey. She wasn’
t going to dress it up.

  ‘More importantly, have you found out who’s sleeping with my wife yet?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  Anderson sighed and let his head fall into his hands.

  ‘You can stay with me if you want?’

  Anderson looked up. Had Adey said that?

  ‘It’s a shithole in Hulme, but I’ve got a spare room.’ She winked. ‘As long as you don’t try anything.’

  Everyone laughed apart from Anderson, who turned crimson. Once he’d composed himself he said: ‘I don’t know what to say. Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t say anything, just focus, because we do have a lead that we need to discuss.’

  Anderson perked up and paid full attention whilst Adey explained in detail the contents of Heena Butt’s handbag, including her phone and the handwritten note concealed inside.

  Anderson kept repeating ‘05 man’.

  ‘What does it mean?’

  Adey shrugged.

  Hussain took a seat at the table in front of Anderson. ‘We can’t work it out.’

  ‘Maybe it’s a flight number?’ Safa suggested.

  ‘Possibly, I’ll check it out,’ Adey replied.

  Anderson acknowledged the contribution with a grateful nod. ‘Do you still think she’s a prostitute?’ he asked outright.

  Adey thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know. It all seemed so—’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Clinical. No clutter. Who would have a bag like that?’

  ‘Not a hooker,’ replied Anderson. ‘What about condoms?’

  Such an obvious point. Why hadn’t it occurred to her? ‘None.’ She’d been blinkered by the assumption of Anderson’s guilt − a dangerous state of mind for a criminal defence lawyer. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  ‘I did a case once,’ said Hussain. ‘The deceased was a man, but he too had almost nothing to identify him.’

  ‘And did you find out who he was?’ asked Anderson.

  ‘Yes.’ Then tentatively: ‘He was an assassin.’

  Nobody offered a reply.

  Anderson broke the silence. ‘So who employed Heena Butt? Waqar Ahmed?’

 

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