by G. Brailey
However, later that afternoon when he shared a wary glance with Geoff in reception it made him face the truth. And the truth was he hadn’t confronted Sam because he was scared. He was scared of Sam saying finally that he wanted nothing more to do with him, and he knew that, to coin Geoff’s expression, he was deluding himself to think otherwise.
When Zack told Veronica about Jason, her view was that he should help him out, not just for Jason’s benefit, but for Zack’s too. “You said how you missed all that, so here’s your chance.”
Zack conceded the point. Defending Jason Heart had to be more rewarding anyway than dealing with the Wahlbergs. Jason had been sending Zack little notes for days, begging him to take his case and apologizing again and again for causing a scene at Nyman’s. A preliminary hearing had been set for the following week and as things stood, Jason was on his own, but there were flies in the ointment – his own court cases that were pending, plus Geoff, who had reminded him that he was but the servant of one master, not two. However, Zack did feel an obligation to explain this to Jason, face to face, so he called him up and suggested he dropped round.
“Not here, it’s not allowed,” said Jason, delighted that Zack had responded at last, but panic stricken at the idea of having to entertain him. So Zack agreed to meet him in his local pub just off the Holloway Road.
When Zack arrived at the appropriately named Dealer’s Arms, he saw that Jason had commandeered a large table in the corner of the saloon bar, presiding over it like a miniature hooded monk.
“So, what do you think?” asked Jason eagerly, almost before Zack had sat down with drinks and Jason’s bundle.
“Okay,” said Zack, “there’s your charge… and there’s the matter of me representing you on this charge, what shall we kick off with first?”
Jason didn’t reply straight away because he was distracted. He’d noticed how heads had turned when Zack had walked in, and how suddenly the snotty bar maid who always managed to make him feel like a pile of shit was gazing over at them, fascinated by the handsome stranger.
“Jason, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with this.”
“What?”
“I don’t do criminal defence any more, I did tell you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, but you will care if you go down for ten years through my incompetence. With criminal law… or any branch of law for that matter… you need to do it every day just to keep up to speed, apart from which it wouldn’t be allowed.”
“By your fucker of a boss?”
“No, not by my fucker of a boss, but by the law society,” said Zack, hoping this would sound official enough to get him off the hook. “But all is not lost, mate, because I know someone who’s really good, Tracy Bright her name is…”
“A woman?” said Jason, appalled, “no way! Women are shit at everything, everyone knows that.”
“Tracy’s not or I wouldn’t have suggested her, and you’d be in very safe hands.”
“Huh,” said Jason, who had never been in safe hands in his life.
“Look, you must have family somewhere… or someone who could support you through all this.”
“Yes,” said Jason, “you.”
“What about your mum?”
“She’s gone.”
“And your dad, where’s he?”
“He got killed in Iraq.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” said Jason, “it saved me the job.”
“Okay,” said Zack, attempting to revert to more neutral territory, “the charge is that you sold rather a large consignment of crack cocaine to undercover police officers… you can say what you like to me as I‘m not representing you, it won’t go any further.”
“So, what if I did?”
“Where did you get it?”
“I know people,” said Jason, “I know lots of people.”
Zack was now genuinely curious about all this because he was finding it increasingly difficult to believe that Jason would have the organizational ability to stick a stamp on a letter and post it in a pillar box, let alone set up a drugs deal single handed.
“Did someone put you up to this?”
“I don’t know anyone,” said Jason, “I just told you. I don’t know anyone at all.”
At this point Zack gave up. He was relieved now he couldn’t take Jason’s case because if this brief, confusing conversation was anything to go by, hitting on any kind of defence for him would prove difficult.
“Shall I get Tracy to give you a call?”
“What are dumping me on her for?”
“I’m not dumping you on anyone, I’m trying to help and I’m sorry if you feel I’ve let you down.”
“You don’t know how much,” said Jason, intently.
Later that night Zack thanked Veronica for encouraging him to meet up with Jason.
“It did the trick did it?”
“Yes, but not in the way we’d hoped.”
What it did do was to remind Zack just what hard work criminal defence could be. It was easy all these years later to think back to his time defending bank robbers, pimps and muggers as his glory days but after an hour with Jason Heart, Zack realised he was certainly guilty of one thing if nothing else, and that was selective memory.
“He’s seriously messed up this kid…”
“So you’re going to defend him are you?”
“I can’t. I’ll find him someone else though, someone good.”
Zack got the distinct impression from Veronica that he had failed in the task she had set him. She didn’t say anything, but then she didn’t need to, Veronica’s silence was eloquent enough.
It had happened gradually, Veronica spending time at Zack’s flat, and although she hadn’t moved in as such, often she would stay over for two consecutive nights. This was something new for Zack. One night maybe, but two together was unheard of.
After work the next day, Zack was in the kitchen contemplating an empty fridge when he heard her key in the lock. He smiled as the door slammed, and ducked out into the hall to greet her.
“Veronica French, if I live and breathe!”
“Hey you’ll never guess,” she said, giving him a brief hug, “we forgot all about the Italian sculptures, they’re in the cellar for goodness sake, still crated up. I don’t remember them arriving, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” said Zack, trying to keep a straight face, “what a shame.”
“He rang up today to ask if we’d sold them.”
“To which you replied?”
“I said that a couple of people were interested but I don’t think he believed me.”
“He’s lucky you agreed to show them at all.”
“Or not to show them at all as is the case… poor thing, he paid a fortune to ship them over as well and he’s such a nice guy.”
“Well, that’s life!” said Zack, cheerfully, delighted that his ruse had paid off.
The following morning, minutes after Zack had left for work the telephone rang and Veronica answered it.
“Hello?” There was an uneasy silence, as though her voice had taken the caller by surprise. “Hello? Are you still there?”
“Is that Tracy?”
“Tracy? No. I think you’ve got the wrong number.”
“Is Zack Fortune there?”
“No, he isn’t,” said Veronica, after a hesitation, “he’s just left for work.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“I can give him a message if you want.”
“McDonalds on the Seven Sisters Road, 6.30 tonight, it’s my birthday tell him, there’s a party.”
“And who shall I say called?”
“Jason, Jason Heart.”
Later, when Veronica told Zack about the phone call he was bemused.
“I wonder who else he’s invited - the milkman?”
“You have to go, Zack,” she said.
“Why do I?”
“You know why.”
“Only if you come with me,” he said, expecting her to refuse, point blank.
“Okay, fine, why not.”
Zack was concerned for Jason, but he was wary of him too. He had come across similar characters from time to time and they could be difficult to shake off. They had a propensity for only hearing what they wanted to hear and for demanding attention at inappropriate times. Zack decided that this would be the last time he would see Jason, he would give him a small present and with it a list of solicitors who could help him, then with a bit of luck he would leave him in peace. At least that was the plan.
At 6.30 that evening, as Zack and Veronica stepped inside McDonalds, Jason, hood up as usual, was sitting at a table facing the door and looked put out.
“Who’s this?” Jason demanded as they walked up.
“Veronica, this is Jason.”
“Hi Jason, happy birthday,” said Veronica.
“This is for you.”
Jason opened up his present, a book on the history of martial arts and looking up at Zack as though he could not have got it more wrong, tossed it aside.
“There’s a list of solicitors in there, look…”
Jason seemed to withdraw, his head shrinking right back into his hood.
“So where is everyone?”
“I thought we could catch a film, just you and me, I know what’s on at the Odeon and I’ve got the times written down on my hand.”
“Sorry, mate… we can’t be too long.”
Jason stared at Zack when he said this as though trying to work out what it meant. “What’s she doing here?”
“This is my girlfriend, Jason, that’s why she’s here.”
“She shouldn’t be here, I didn’t invite her, and I don’t like her either,” he said, which made Veronica smile.
“Well I’m sorry about that,” said Zack, offended on Veronica’s behalf, “listen I think maybe we’d better make tracks, take care of yourself… take it easy, yeah…”
“You can’t leave now, you’ve just got here!” yelled Jason, jumping up.
As Zack was steering Veronica towards the door, Jason lunged at Zack and grabbing his arm pulled him back.
“Are you walking out on me, you shit? On my birthday?”
Heads turned, people were looking over towards them now, curious and a little alarmed.
“Listen, don’t push it, okay?” said Zack, sounding more threatening than he intended. He snatched his arm back and taking Veronica by the hand continued outside, Jason following doggedly behind them to the street.
“You’re walking out on me on my birthday! Fuck no one does that, no one.”
“Okay,” said Zack, turning to confront him, “this has gone far enough, this is where you and I part company.”
“You can’t dump me like this, you shit!”
“I’ve done what I can to help you, now accept it, mate, and move on.”
Zack and Veronica turned away and walking swiftly towards the Holloway Road, Zack hailed a cab and they jumped in. From the rear window, they saw Jason, immobile, standing looking after them, then, as the cab accelerated he disappeared from view.
“Poor Jason,” said Veronica, “he’s so unhappy.”
“I shouldn’t have involved you, I’m sorry, that was a big mistake.”
“For him it was.”
“Not for him, for you, for putting you through all that.”
“I’m tougher than I look, Zack, don’t you worry about me.”
“Okay, you’ve seen the kid - can you imagine him setting up a £50,000 drugs deal?”
“Jason?” said Veronica, “no way.”
“That’s what I think too.”
“Is that what he did?”
“Apparently, but he’s got to be covering for someone…”
Zack hated what had happened with Jason, and had Veronica not been with him he might have humoured him, he might even have agreed to see the film that was suggested. Jason was desperately in need of support from somewhere but he could see why no one was queuing up to take the job. Zack tried to dismiss the whole thing, it had nothing to do with him really but the boy’s neediness and desolation had got to him. His head told him he should reject all subsequent approaches from Jason if there were any, but he knew his heart was saying something else.
“By the way,” said Veronica, “who’s Tracy?”
Zack froze, just for a moment, but sitting so close together Veronica felt the brief shock run through his entire body.
“She’s a solicitor,” said Zack, “why?”
“Jason asked me if I was Tracy when he rang up, that’s all,” interested now in Zack’s reaction.
“I suggested her when me met the other night, but he wasn’t having it… he said all women were hopeless… or words to that effect.”
“Which says it all really, doesn’t it,” said Veronica, gazing out of the window as North London flashed by.
“Was he religious then, your ex?” said Zack, keen to change the subject and thinking back to the very first cab journey they had taken together.
“He trained to be a priest when he was younger, why?”
“He crossed himself when he saw me.”
“Did he?”
“Why do you think he did that?”
“His idea of a joke, I suppose.”
“Meaning?”
“Implying that I’d taken up with a vampire or something… they have a weird sense of humour the French.”
“Why were you there by the way? Outside the club? It was like you were waiting for me.”
“I was.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know, I just knew you’d show up somehow, strange, huh?”
“Very strange,” said Zack.
The following day as Zack was leaving Emerson Buildings for lunch, Betty called him over.
“Oh Mr Fortune” she said, chirpily, “there’s something here for you, a note, it’s just arrived.” Zack took the grubby envelope and pushed it into his pocket as he walked away. “How are we by the way,” said Betty, calling after him, “better now?”
Zack didn’t turn back, nor did he acknowledge the question, he just crossed reception and left the building.
“Well, really,” said Betty to Gloria, her partner in crime, “how rude.”
“He can’t have heard you,” said Gloria, helpfully, “head in the clouds.”
“He heard me all right,” said Betty.
And Zack had heard, but he had no intention of going through pleasantries with someone who had gone behind his back, conspiring to do him down. He might have known Betty would go telling tales to Geoff, desperate for approval, determined to improve her very lowly position in the pecking order of Emerson Buildings.
As soon as he was out on the street, Zack took out Jason’s note and read it.
‘Dear Mr Zack Fortune, Lawyer,’ it started, ‘I do like your girlfriend really I should have not said then last night what I said that I did not like her because she is nice as are you very nice I am sorry for what I said and I am sorry with your girlfriend as well so now you can take my case where shall I meet you? This letter is from Jason Heart near the Holloway road ps thank you for the book that is my present it is very nice.’
Zack put the note back into its envelope, tugged out his mobile and made a call.
“Tracy? It’s Zack, listen, I really need to see you. Can you get back to me, as soon as? Thanks, love.”
As Zack rang off he realised he should not have called her ‘love’, she won’t like that he thought, but so what? Finding Jason help was the priority. Zack wanted to show the note to Veronica and so set off for Puddlewell Lane.
From the gallery, Veronica didn’t see Zack as he dodged a couple of motor bikes and stepped up onto the pavement outside, but through the window, Zack saw her, talking closely to a striking, arty young man, with a shock of straggly dark hair, sporting large silver crosses in either ear and Zack knew immediately who this was. He hesitated, then shot back again ov
er the road to observe them unnoticed.
Their body language told Zack that there was an attraction between them, certainly from him, but from her too and watching this Zack felt as though he had just been kicked in the stomach by a runaway horse. Insecurity and wild jealousy raged through him, then he saw her notice him and move towards the door. Like a thief escaping the scene of the crime, Zack bolted back to Emerson Buildings which took him less than ten minutes, his mobile ringing constantly until he turned it off, the ridiculous Dambusters march now sounding as though it was mocking him.
As he darted from the lift, agitated and desperate for the sanctuary and privacy of his office, he found Sam there of all people, snooping.
“What the hell do you want?” said Zack, slamming the door.
“I want a word,” said Sam.
“Well you surprise me as for weeks words have not passed your lips, so what’s brought this on? And what are you doing in my office, uninvited?” said Zack, realising how childish he sounded.
Zack made his way to his desk and stood behind it, hands in pockets, dominating the room. Sam stood on the other side, like an anxious schoolboy about to be carpeted by the head.
“I know nothing, okay,” said Sam, “if it all comes on top, don’t drop me in it, Zack.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Here, with Geoff, if for whatever reason you get kicked out.”
“Oh I see, suddenly I’m the pariah is that it?”
“I’ll deny everything, so don’t even go there.”
“Deny what?”
“All knowledge of Susan, Russell, all the things you should have owned up to, if you’d had the decency that is, or the courage.”
“So good to have you on my side…”
“Don’t try and turn it round,” said Sam, “with the sympathy trip, playing the victim like you usually do.”
“Well here we are then… this is us, the culmination of twenty years friendship.”
“Stop manipulating me!” Sam screamed, taking Zack completely by surprise. “You use people, then chuck them away when you’ve had enough, and I’ve been complicit in that for years… doing your dirty work… and some of it very dirty work for fear of losing you. Well that fear has gone, mate, I don’t give a toss about you anymore, you’re a parasite… it’s over!”