by Abi Silver
‘Hi Hani,’ he said lightly, the older man returning the greeting by increasing his speed one notch. David chastised himself for his own reserve; he had known Hani for ten years, worked with him closely for almost as long, but he still felt a distance between them. Perhaps it was a cultural thing, Hani not trusting people who were not of his faith. But Jane had always disagreed. She claimed she found Hani ‘warm and supportive’ and argued that his distant manner was misunderstood.
‘Do you have a moment? There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
‘I can’t stop, David. My ward round overran; nurse got something wrong and it needed sorting. Really behind schedule now, sadly.’ He headed towards the lift. ‘We can talk on my way to my next appointment if you like.’
David gave a cursory glance over his shoulder before continuing.
‘It’s about tomorrow’s mortality review meeting and Mrs Hennessy’s death.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is there anything in particular you wanted to focus on? I thought it might be useful to know in advance.’
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, I’m worried about Jane to tell the truth.’
‘Really?’
‘And I talked to the police, like you suggested, reassured them about the operation. But they want to see a copy of the report, so we want to make sure it’s…well…accurate.’
‘Are you meaning to imply that my reports are inaccurate?’
‘No. Of course not. But we usually prepare them for an internal audience. We should probably be more careful if the police are going to be reading it.’
‘Your comments are noted, David. I’m not an imbecile. Is that all?’
‘I would really appreciate it if nothing bad is said about Jane because of this. It’s a critical time for her career. There’s the head of department post coming up, you know.’
Hani entered the lift and stuck out his arm to bar David’s way.
‘We’ll have the review tomorrow. If Jane has something she’s worried about she knows my door is always open.’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ David called out, as the lift doors closed and Hani disappeared from view.
24
Kyla Roberts had sold a 4 series coupé that morning and had two customers booked in for test drives in the afternoon. Simon was busy clambering in and out of a Touring 5 Series with a family of four. The phone was ringing every ten minutes or so, just as Joe liked it, busy but not hectic, demanding but manageable. Having said that, he thrived on the crazy days too. It gave him a buzz to pick up call after call, show two or sometimes three customers around simultaneously, flitting seamlessly from one to the other, ensuring that he kept his voice low enough that the selling points he emphasised to one customer were not overheard by another.
There was only one stage in the day when he had to take Kyla to one side. He waited till her customer had left and Simon was deep in conversation with the family, having just prevented their toddler from crawling underneath an X5. He had thought about intervening but decided Simon could handle it. His sister was heavily pregnant so he needed the practice.
Kyla was filling her water bottle from the cooler and he marched over to join her.
‘Having fun today?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘The guy this morning was such a gentleman. I think we could have got another two grand from him if we’d really wanted.’
‘Well, I’m not sure. Sometimes these older guys are cleverer than we think and they’ve done their homework before they come in. Anyway, better he’s satisfied and recommends us to someone else.’
‘Well that’s what he did. His son is coming in tomorrow. I’ve arranged to show him the 7 series.’
‘Which one?’
‘He says he’ll like the blue one, the 2014.’
‘Ah.’ Joe had to think quickly. There were reasons why he should not sell the blue 2014 model to the son of the man who had just bought the coupé. ‘That might be sold already,’ he said.
‘Oh?’ Kyla strode back to her laptop. ‘It didn’t say on the computer.’
Joe took a deep breath. Of course it didn’t because he was making things up. There was a – how could he put it? – ‘issue’ with the mileage on the car Kyla had just sold. He couldn’t risk selling a similarly ‘issue-concerned’ beamer to his son. That might be pushing their luck too far.
‘My mistake,’ he said. ‘I’ve been so busy I haven’t completed the paperwork. But I can get a couple of other similar cars over. What time will he be in?’
‘Eleven.’
‘No problem then. Listen, Kyla. If you have someone come in again in the future, who’s a friend or a family member of another customer, let me know.’
‘Sure. Why?’
‘Well. I want to make sure we charge them consistently or I make a note on the computer so that, maybe we offer the first customer money off next time; that kind of thing. Sort of thank you for recommending us.’
Kyla had never seen any of these ‘friends and family benefits’ noted on the computer. And she knew the blue BMW was not sold because it had only come in that morning and Joe had only just entered the registration number on the system. But she returned to her desk without further argument. He was the boss.
When Joe headed out for a smoke she sought out the paperwork for the coupé. The previous owner’s contact details were all intact. She might just give him a call, later on when Joe went for lunch, just to satisfy her own interest, that was all.
25
Judith and Constance were sitting next to each other at a table in one of the meeting rooms at Constance’s office. Judith had given up a room at any barrister’s chambers when she retired some years earlier.
‘So, Connie. You have my undivided attention. What’s the latest?’
Constance poured Judith a cup of black coffee.
‘We don’t have decaf. Gives you an excuse to have the real thing, just this once.’
Judith grinned and took a large gulp.
‘Not bad at all,’ she mumbled before sitting back in her chair and taking out her notebook and pen.
‘We’re still waiting for the CPS decision but I’m fairly sure they’ll prosecute Ahmad,’ Constance said.
‘What evidence do they think they have?’
‘The DNA.’
‘What DNA?’
‘His hair on her clothing.’
‘But we know he was in her room.’
‘Yes. But it’s unlikely it happened just from cleaning her room and he hasn’t offered any other explanation. And the fingerprints.’
‘Remind me?’
‘All around Mrs Hennessy’s room. Yes, I know he cleans in there. And all around the staff room, including on the door leading out onto the balcony.’
‘And the jewellery you mentioned?’
‘Yes, two very distinctive rings. But he could have taken them any time she was asleep or in the bathroom. He didn’t have to kill her for them. Dawson is working on the theory that Ahmad stole the rings on the Wednesday, after Tracy, the daughter, visited, or when she was having her operation on the Thursday. She noticed and confronted him. That’s why he killed her.’
‘Did anyone see or hear this apparent “confrontation”?’
‘No, but some of the patients have been discharged. They’re trying to track them down to speak to them.’
‘What about the time he left?’
‘His security card shows him swiping out downstairs at 8:12.’
‘It’s such a weak case, Connie. Will they really pursue it?’
‘It could go either way. But there’s public interest in this one – the “brother” article in the Standard. We’ll need to ask him about that.’
‘Yes. Let’s do that together, watch his reaction, but not leave it too long. Either it’
s false, in which case we give them merry hell and force an apology on the front page, or it’s true and we have a monumental PR problem. And before you say it, I completely get the “I am not my brother’s keeper” phenomenon. Thank God, I’m not, in my case.’
Constance sat quietly bemused.
‘What? What’s silenced you this time?’
‘You have a brother?’ Constance asked tentatively.
‘I was speaking metaphorically. Well, a sister actually. Clare. A globetrotter. A nightmare, more like. Always jolly. Ghastly. Don’t ask. You?’
‘A brother, Jermain. But we’ll need a lot of alcohol before I talk about him.’
‘So there you are then; my point exactly.’
Constance remained silent, her fingers resting on her keyboard.
‘I can see I haven’t quite satisfied you. Come on, spit it out,’ Judith said.
‘Let’s say it isn’t his brother. Let’s say that Ahmad himself has some, well, connections with terrorism. Would you still defend him?’
‘I don’t like to deal in hypotheticals. It gets you all tied up in knots. Do you know something you haven’t told me?’
‘No. It’s just, what if we find it’s worse than the article, and he was involved. How can we defend him?’
‘Like I said, we should check our facts first. But it’s not up to us to make moral decisions about how deserving or otherwise our clients may be. This isn’t like you. You’re not giving up already are you? Over one article?’
‘I was just asking what you thought,’ Constance replied. ‘No. I’m not giving up at all.’
‘Good. Tell me about his family.’
‘I haven’t found any parents or evidence of any siblings whatsoever, including the “brother”, or any previous employment record. But I can’t be certain that the office I’m emailing in Syria even exists any more.’
‘When Ahmad came here and sought sanctuary he must have submitted documents to the authorities?’
‘He did but they can’t find them. There was a fire at the records office and they were destroyed. And I’ve asked him and he won’t speak about it. Says “that life is over” and stares out into the distance. But he is educated. I mean, his English is very good.’
‘And his family over here? You said his wife is a recluse.’
‘Thin, pale, very sad. She doesn’t speak and she doesn’t leave the house, and he obviously worries, as he hardly ever leaves the little girl, their daughter, alone with her.’
‘Hmm. I wonder what happened to them in Syria? So many people carrying so much trauma around with them these days.’
‘You would think the press would give them a break.’
‘It’s such a fine line. An old lady is dead, too, remember that. A frail old bird who has suddenly become Primrose Hill’s most famous artist, posthumously of course. Anyone who’s anyone will be turning up some scribble done on a napkin and claiming it as a “Hennessy original”. And he’s a big strapping man, isn’t he?’
‘He is physically big, yes. But not rough. You need to meet him. He is very…poised, I suppose.’
‘Like you.’
‘Maybe.’ Constance laughed. Judith was the only one who complimented her so directly, but she didn’t find it embarrassing.
‘And there’s always a tendency to believe the accused is guilty, otherwise what are the police up to? What about the post-mortem?’
‘The Home Office pathologist says there was unlikely to have been any trauma before the fall. He is fairly certain now that she fell from the balcony. Apart from anything else, her fingerprints were out there on the rail. Cause of death is the blow to the head, which caused massive brain injuries, but her neck also broke on impact.’
‘The operation had been a success?’
‘Apparently.’
‘Other suspects?’
‘Mrs Hennessy’s son, Joseph, “Joe”, aged forty-one, lives with a woman, Janice Cooper, no children. He claims in his statement given shortly after her death that he hadn’t seen his mother in six months. Works at BMW in Mill Hill as a salesman, recently promoted to head up a team. Was arrested for theft when he was a teenager. Stole some TVs from his employer but got off with a warning as he was young and he had letters of support from important people. Got an apprenticeship with BMW, worked his way up. Fifteen years on, things are looking up.’
‘If it was so long ago, why is his conviction still on file?’
‘I asked that too. It’s not. There’s still some police around from that time and they are keeping an eye on him. They think he’s dodgy so they made sure Dawson knew about it too.’
‘OK. Her other child?’
‘Tracy Jones, a primary school teacher, aged forty-five. Her husband, Peter, is unemployed. Had his own business. They used to have a big house in Ealing. Fallen on harder times now. He had an accident and injured his back. Couldn’t work, so the business went under. Moved to Brentford. Two sons, Luke and Taylor. They started at the local school in September.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Both have alibis from partners. Both were at home that evening.’
‘Dawson shared all that with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Gosh. He must be very taken with you. And more willing to share glory than his father ever was.’
‘I’m not sure of his motives. He sent me round to Ahmad’s when he knew he had the warrant to search for the rings. He didn’t do that for Ahmad’s good or to enhance my career. Far more likely he wanted to make sure we couldn’t challenge the warrant afterwards, argue Ahmad didn’t understand, or something like that.’
‘No. You’re right. Dawson tells us what he wants us to know. So, clearly, he wants us to dig around Mr Hennessy and Mrs Jones more, and he doesn’t have the time, the manpower or the energy. That’s my takeaway from all that. OK. Anyone else?’
‘The ex-husband. Miles Hennessy. The police have only just got hold of him in LA, apparently. He is wealthy and hadn’t seen Barbara for some years. Seems unlikely.’
‘Other men in her life? A best friend hoping for a windfall? Illegitimate children?’
‘I haven’t had time to investigate any of those yet.’
‘You could try talking to the children, well, the daughter, to start with. If Dawson is not trying too hard, he may not have asked her all the right questions. I’m a bit more wary of the son, given his history.’
‘All right. I understand.’
‘Then closer to home, did she leave a will, and if so, who is in and who is out? And find out more about our client, if you can. Did he tell his story to anyone when he applied for asylum here? And the other patients. I don’t care if they’re all paraplegics. Do any of them have criminal records?’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes. Do we know when the funeral is?’
‘They released the body today.’
‘So it could be any day? Good. I love a good funeral. We must go along. You never know who will come out of the woodwork. God, this one is difficult as we’ve got so little to go on. We’re defending air. Those cases are the worst for juries; they’ve got nothing to get their teeth into. They tend to convict just to be shot of it all.’
‘Are you ever optimistic?’ Constance asked, as she saved her ever-lengthening ‘to do’ list.
‘Oh, you know I only like to make it sound bad so that I can crow when we win.’
‘That’s good. For a minute there, you had me a bit worried.’
26
Joe arrived bright and early at Brian’s office the next morning with Janice. She was wearing a low-cut flowery blouse with ruffles, and her hair was still wet from the shower. This time, Joe was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans.
Brian ushered them into his office and sat down behind his desk with a brief greeting. He had not forgotten how his last meeting with
Joe had ended.
‘And you are?’ he forced his face into a neutral expression as he addressed Janice.
‘Janice Cooper.’ Joe answered for her as Brian took her hand nervously.
‘So nice to meet you, Janice, nice to see you again, Joseph. Let’s get down to business, shall we?’ He used that line a lot on new clients. He had heard it in a James Bond film and he thought it imparted the correct measure of professionalism, tempered with edginess.
‘Joseph, thank you, your message said that Janice is prepared to corroborate the details of the last time you saw your late mother.’
‘Yeah. It was the 8th of March.’
Brian turned to his computer, moved across a few screens and waited for a document to load.
‘It’ll just take a second,’ he explained.
Janice sat with her hands on her lap, her cheeks pink, one ear red where she had inserted her earring with difficulty that morning. Joe stood behind her, his fingers kneading the back of her chair.
‘I have prepared a document which I will show you in a moment. Your full name is Janice Cooper?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you are Mr Hennessy’s partner?’
‘Yes.’
‘For how long have you been together?’
‘Almost eight years.’
‘And your address is the same as that of Mr Hennessy.’
‘Yes. 41, Grant Lane.’
‘Thank you. And the date on which Mr Hennessy visited his mother was what?’
‘The 8th of March.’
‘Did you go too?’
‘No. He went on his own.’
‘And how do you know what the date was?’
‘It was a Wednesday night. He called me to say he would be home late as he was going to see his mum.’
‘And how do you know it was that particular Wednesday?’
‘I watch Silent Witness and it was the last episode of the series. I double-checked. I had to record it so Joe could watch it later.’
‘Mr Hennessy. I have to ask you as a formality. You did go to visit your mother that night?’