Due Process

by Jane Finch

  She thought of him again, now. The hundredth time that day because he was constantly in her mind, tapping at her brain and trying to tell her something. What was going on? Where was he and what had happened? So many questions but nowhere to find answers. All his personal things, his briefcase, the files he kept at home, everything that might have explained his disappearance were now ashes.

  Living on the boat was temporary, she hoped. But things were getting more complicated. Investigations were going on regarding the house fire, so any insurance claim was on hold. And with Tony still missing she could not have access to his bank account. Thank goodness she still had her credit cards. Finally the police were starting to investigate, but precious time had been lost.

  The niggling doubts had started, but Amanda kept pushing them away. This was nothing to do with what had happened in the past. The police seemed to think it was related to Tony’s work in some way. Maybe a client with a grudge. Or perhaps Tony unwittingly knew something he shouldn’t. After all, he didn’t have the best crop of society for his clients.

  But one thing at a time. She took a deep breath and dialled the number of Morgan and Pacey.

  “This is Amanda Purcell. Could I speak to my husband’s secretary please? Sarah Greenwood.”

  There was a pause and a few clicks, and Isaac Morgan was on the line.

  “Amanda? This must be a dreadful time for you. Any news?” his voice sounded full of concern.

  “Hello Isaac. I was hoping to speak to Sarah. And no, there is no news.”

  “A terrible business. At least the police are investigating now. They should put something in the papers. After all, the park must have been crowded. Surely someone saw something?”

  Amanda found herself gripping the phone so hard that the corner dug into her palm. She tried to relax.

  “I think they are looking into all angles. Isaac, I thought Sarah might have some ideas. Was there anything going on at work – you know, with one of his clients? Perhaps if I could talk to her...”

  “I’m so sorry, Amanda, I thought you knew. Sarah left a few days ago. About the same time as Tony disappeared, now I think about it.”

  Amanda felt her breathing increase, could hear the blood racing round her body as it hammered in her ears, her temperature rising.

  “No, I didn’t know. That was rather sudden. Did the police talk to her?”

  “Well, not while she was here I don’t think. As I understand it she has gone away. Left us in a pickle, I have to say, and it’s a real bind trying to find a replacement.”

  Amanda put down the phone and another little niggling doubt entered her mind.

  * * *

  Tony was laughing, his dark hair swept back from his face as the sea wind grazed his skin. The boat was racing across the water and the sail filled with the breath of the ocean. Beads of salt water clung to his forehead and ran down into his eyes. Eyes which were deep blue and dancing with joy. Eyes that said ‘I love you’.

  Jenny was laughing too, her little body engulfed with the bright yellow lifejacket, a rope holding her firmly to the mast. It must be a Sunday, because Tony was not at work. He was here with them and they were being a family and doing things that a family do together.

  Suddenly the waves were crashing over the side of the boat. Tony tried to haul in the sail, and Amanda stumbled over to untie the rope that held Jenny safe. The rope was wet and tight. Her fingers were cold and numb and she couldn’t loosen the rope. Jenny began to cry.

  “It’ll be alright,” whispered Amanda. “The sail is down, we’ll soon be ashore.”

  Then Jenny screamed. When Amanda turned, Tony was gone.

  Amanda awoke in tears, her body covered in perspiration. She whispered his name. Tony. Tony. She sat up in bed and reached out to the cold pillow beside her. Where are you? Every night when she went to bed, and every morning when she woke, her mind went over the weeks and days before that fateful day at the park. There was nothing that gave her a reason to think all was not well. He had said nothing, had slept well, had been loving and considerate to her and to Jenny. He had worked late, sometimes at the office and sometimes at home, but that was not unusual. His clients demanded his attention 24/7 and he was there for them. That was what made him a good lawyer.

  But things did not add up. There was no reason for Tony to disappear; who were the mysterious men that had taken him and tried to take Jenny; why had the house burned to the ground; and why had Tony’s secretary left work with no warning?

  The police had no answers. Amanda decided she had to find out for herself, and a plan began to form in her mind. She dialed.

  Isaac was positively purring on the line.

  “Amanda. What can I do for you?”

  “Isaac, I think we can help each other. I need a job for a few days, and you are in a muddle because Sarah has left.”

  “And…?” began Isaac.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Well, I know how Tony works. Can I come and help out, just until you get someone more permanent? As you know, with the fire and everything…”

  “Of course, Amanda, what an excellent idea. And as you say, it will help us, too. I’ll speak to human resources and get it arranged. How soon can you start?”

  * * *

  As Amanda climbed the stairs to the offices of Morgan and Pacey she wondered what on earth she was doing. Tony had been missing for five days and the police were no nearer to finding out what had happened or more importantly, where he might be. She walked unsteadily towards the reception.

  “Amanda Purcell. I‘m here for the temporary secretary’s job.”

  Amanda tried not to shudder as the fingers of fear crept up her spine. She could do this. The office was buzzing. Phones were ringing constantly and people were hurrying from room to room carrying bundles of files and papers. The fax machine churned out page after page of documents, the motor gurgling. Someone specializing in interior design definitely had a thing for green. The walls were a mellow lime with soft green carpet on the floors and green pines in painted pottery adorning the corners. Clients sat in the waiting area or paced the corridors, and two receptionists fielded calls from a flashing switchboard.

  After ten minutes with Helen from human resources, she was given the rundown on the criminal and litigation team. Helen made a phone call, and soon a young girl arrived and introduced herself as Megan. Together they walked down the lush corridor, with doors leading off in all directions like capillaries from an artery. A door to their right was closed, the name plate missing. Megan opened the door and hurried inside.

  Amanda was dumbstruck. She was standing inside Tony’s office. She knew because she could sense him there. She recalled she had visited on one occasion. The leather-clad desk still stood by the window, with the matching leather swing chair between the desk and the window. Tony had often remarked how he preferred to work with his back to the outside world. So he wasn’t tempted to get out there and join it.

  The desk was piled high with files.

  “Right, this is the plan,” said Megan, sweeping her hand across the desk, “you need to go through all these files and make a note of everything that is pending, like court dates, appointments, briefings that need doing, that sort of thing. Then prioritise them, and we’ll find some articled clerks to fill in as best we can.”

  “I’m on it,” said Amanda.

  She sat slowly in Tony’s chair, her hands feeling the soft leather of his desk, her eyes scanning the covers of the files of his clients. Somewhere in the pile of papers she might just find an answer. But she didn’t hold out much hope.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Detective Constable Blake had prepared carefully. Inspector Finley could be pedantic. He took a deep breath and entered the Inspector’s office. It was fairly bare, considering it belonged to the Big Man himself. Just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. No other chairs for visitors or detective constables to sit. D.C.Blake stood awkwardly. Waiting for his cue.

  Inspector F
inley was engrossed in something he was typing onto the screen of his computer. After a few moments he looked up, sat back in his chair, and folded his arms.

  “So,” he said briskly, “what have we got?”

  D.C.Blake cleared his throat and gave his report on the incident.

  “So an attempted child abduction and a missing husband. That it?”

  “No sir, there’s more. Wife came to report Mr. Purcell missing and whilst she was with us we got a report of a house fire. Turns out it was the family home.”

  “Cause of fire?”

  “Still being investigated, sir.”

  “Coincidence?”

  “I’m not sure, sir.”

  “What are you sure of?”

  “If he left of his own accord we don’t know what he took with him because of the fire. Wife insists there were no problems at home.”

  “Yes, well they often are the last to know if the husband’s having an affair. The attempted abduction of the child is not so easily explained, though. Any witness statements yet?” D.C. Blake drew a deep breath.

  “We have six statements, but there is not much to go on. A brief description, that’s all. People only started to take notice after Mrs. Purcell started running, and everyone was watching her and no-one saw the husband leave. We don’t know about life insurance yet because everything was destroyed in the fire.”

  “Ah! The John Darwin scenario.”

  D.C.Blake nodded. Forces across the country had been on alert since John Darwin had faked his own death in 2007 and his wife had tried to claim on the life insurance. Now every missing person case was checked. Was there life insurance and could there be a conspiracy between the husband and wife.

  “We’re checking with Morgan and Pacey to see what benefits they arranged.”

  Inspector Finley turned back to his computer screen.

  “Fine. Keep me informed.”

  D.C. Blake turned to leave, but paused, flicking through his notebook.

  “There is one other thing, sir.”

  “Hmm? And what is that?”

  “The secretary is missing.”

  The Inspector laughed.

  “Well, there you are then. Cut and dried. The husband went off with the secretary and they’re probably sunning themselves on some Caribbean beach by now.”

  “There’s just one thing, sir. Tony Purcell was thirty-two years old.”

  “So?”

  D.C. Blake coughed.

  “The secretary – Sarah Greenwood. She was fifty-seven.”

  * * *

  Amanda knew her way around a criminal file. Tony would often bring work home when there were deadlines to meet. She had lost count of the amount of counsel briefs, statements and instructions she had typed out. She could pick up a file and know exactly where to look to find court dates and appointments, witness statements, and client statements. Plus, her experience in the past gave her the right mind-set to evaluate a case, although she pushed those thoughts away. She quickly worked through the files, writing timelines, witness lists, pending hearings, and noting the types of offence. What she didn’t know was what additional work needed to be done, or whether the files were ready for trial, so she made an appropriate note on each file ready for the articled clerks.

  It was not an easy task. Not because she didn’t know the work, but because with each file she opened a new wound appeared. She would see Tony’s handwriting, see the remarks he had made about each case or each client, and there would be a little cluster of stars in each corner of the file. She knew about Tony’s star system because he had explained it to her once at home. One star meant awful client and awful crime, two stars meant awful client but small crime, and three stars meant innocent. They had laughed at his system at first, rating everything by the star system, dinner, television, films, even sex. The latter was always three stars though.

  Just as her eyes were starting to smart and her fingers ache, Megan appeared with a cup of coffee.

  “Here you are, Amanda. Bet you need this.”

  Amanda sipped the coffee and looked at the pile of cases on the desk. She wasn’t getting anywhere and had found nothing of interest.

  Walking out of the office she saw Sarah’s work station and on an impulse sat down to go through the papers on her desk. Other than a few notes, though, there was nothing that caught her attention. The only clue that anyone worked at the desk was the picture stuck to the bottom of the computer screen, a sunset on a remote beach with palm tree fronds framing the whole thing. It looked vaguely familiar. Glancing around quickly, she turned on the computer. She knew that Sarah probably had some weird and wonderful password that she would never find. But she decided to try anyway.

  When the password box popped up she tried as many as she could think of; SGreenwood; Sarah; Greenwood. She thought for a moment. What would a fifty something secretary use as a password? Probably the name of a family member or a cat. Then the picture caught her eye. Looking closer she saw the caption ‘Sunset in Cayman Islands’. A shiver ran down her spine and her mouth went dry, but she pushed any thoughts to the back of her mind. Coincidences happen all the time, she told herself.

  She needed to think. As a last attempt she typed Cayman. Nothing. She sighed and slammed her hand down hard on the keyboard. She must have pressed the Return key, because suddenly the screen went blue and began to load. Fancy that, no password protection.

  She clicked on email and scanned the inbox. It was empty. She sighed and bit her lip, thinking. Then she scrolled down to the sent items and opened the folder. There she found an email sent to Tony on 23rd August.

  Tony. We need to talk.

  What was that all about? She quickly looked through the other sent emails, but could see nothing that seemed to be of any interest. She opened a drawer and saw a flash drive and glancing around quickly, inserted it into the machine and copied all the emails. She would look later. Of course, her laptop had gone up in smoke with Tony’s when the house burned down, but she could probably find an internet cafe somewhere.

  Closing down the computer she hurried over to the photocopier, took a copy of the client list and dates, and rushed back to Tony’s office.

  Tony. We need to talk.

  She sat back in his chair and thought about Tony sitting in exactly the same place, looking at the work to be done, and wondered for the first time if he had truly been happy.

  + + +

  Amanda was exhausted, both mentally and physically. It had been a few years since she had worked in an office all day, and her brain felt numb. Not only was her mind full of court dates and assorted criminal activities, but she had spent the last few days in her husband’s office where she could feel his presence.

  The worst thing was, she didn’t know if there was any point to what she was doing. There had been no clues to Tony’s disappearance, no threats from clients that she could see, no mysterious messages or meetings. Nothing to give her a hint what was going on.

  Maybe she was wasting precious time. Sighing heavily, she took a large gulp of the wine she had just poured, and walked to Jenny’s bed. She had thirty minutes before she needed to collect her from the After School Club. Just enough time to make the bed and tidy the cabin. Then she would have to make tea, shower Jenny, and get her to bed.

  She began to wonder if she might not go back to Morgan and Pacey in the morning. The files were a dead end, the desk drawers had been cleared, there was nothing left of Tony except that faint odour of him that she imagined still lingered in the air.

  She went to grab her handbag and saw the book inside. The one Tony had dropped at the park. The police had given it to her and she had forgotten all about it. Profiling the Criminal Mind. She frowned. She began to flick through the pages. She saw nothing. Her hands began to shake. She closed the book, took a deep breath, and opened it to the first page. Tony’s handwriting was scrawled on the page.

  Amanda – Just in case! *

  Just in case of what? And why one star? That meant aw
ful crime, awful client. She continued to scan through the book but there was nothing else that caught her attention. No notes, no words underlined.

  Amanda glanced at her watch and realised she needed to collect Jenny. The conundrum would have to wait until the evening when she had some time to herself. She grabbed the car keys and stepped off the boat and onto the dock.

  Just in case. In case you disappeared? In case I found myself alone and living on the boat? At that moment she wanted to shake Tony for being so obtuse.

  It was as she was driving along the quiet road leading to the river that she suddenly realised what she was missing.

  Just in case. Just in case. She jammed her foot on the brake and skidded to a halt. Rummaging in her handbag she found the client list from the office. She scanned it quickly, couldn’t see anything, and then forced herself to take a deep breath and look more closely and slowly. And there it was.

  Paul Justin. Possession with intent to supply. Crown Court. 4th October.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  The Justin case.

  * * *

  Amanda was back in Tony’s office.. Today was definitely going to be the last day she spent sitting in his chair. She was tired. The emotion of the last few weeks was catching up with her and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep going fuelled by adrenaline alone.

  The fact that Tony was gone and maybe gone forever was slowly catching up with her, like a virus determined to bring its victim down. If she didn’t have Jenny, she didn’t know whether she could carry on. What she wanted to do was run to Tony as he walked in the door, and hurry home to their little cottage. But of course none of that was going to happen.

  She looked at the stack of files and started to sift through them. She knew she had seen the Justin file, it was on her list, and she remembered the one star in the corner. The hearing was 4th October so it ought to be near the top of the pile. She had sorted them in hearing date order.