Her reaction was not what Everdene had expected. Indeed, her response to her acquittal was not what he had anticipated at all.
‘Yes,’ he continued. ‘The Home Secretary has ordered that he be released early - on parole. He should be freed very shortly.’
Julia could not believe what she was hearing.
‘But why? He was sentenced to fifteen years only a few months ago.’
‘I am not privy to the full reasons, you understand. But I believe he has been seriously assaulted more than once while in custody. He is owed a duty of care. The Home Secretary must have concluded he cannot be safely managed in prison. The only option in such circumstances is to release him. He must then look to his own safety.’
‘But why would Michael be in danger?’
‘Reading between the lines, I suspect he must have provided some very helpful information to the authorities. If he has, it must have got out.’
‘You mean Michael’s an informer? I can’t believe that. What would he know? Duffy’s the informer. We heard that in the trial.’
She looked concerned. The only thing she could think of that Michael could have revealed was that she had participated in the Charnwood robbery.
‘Well, there it is. He must have known something. You now know as much as I do. I suspect he’ll be on his way up here as soon as he’s released. He’ll be very pleased to see you I would have thought?’
‘Yes, I suppose he will.’
Julia did not sound very enthusiastic at the prospect.
‘What about you?’ asked Felicity Garrard. ‘The Press will be keen to interview you. It might be best for Mr Pepper to arrange something to get it all over with. They can be very persistent. And this will be a big story. Giles is on his way here as we speak.’
‘I don’t want to talk to anyone,’ insisted Julia. ‘Least of all a bunch of journalists. This whole thing has been a nightmare. I just want to see my child. Where is little Michael?’
‘But your mother’s taken him to Portugal with her, remember?’
‘Then that’s where I want to go.’
‘And Doyle?’ asked Everdene.
She looked at her counsel blankly.
‘Well, of course I want to see him.’
She paused, realising that her apparent lack of interest had been noted.
‘Perhaps he’ll take me there, assuming he’s allowed to leave the country?’
‘I believe he is – the sooner the better. If he is at risk, he’ll be safer abroad.’
Julia became pensive again. She appreciated she had not expressed any thanks for the efforts of her lawyers.
‘I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me,’ she said shaking Everdene by the hand. ‘And you too, Miss Garrard. I cannot thank you enough. I really don’t know what I’d have done had I been convicted. Please convey my gratitude to Mr Pepper and Mr Digby too.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
Dudley Manning was sitting in his dingy bedsit just off Gregory Boulevard in the centre of Nottingham watching the news on an old television when Julia’s acquittal was announced. He was surprised it was not the top story on the six o’clock news. Then again, an acquittal is never treated by the media in quite the same way as a conviction. The news reporter spent more time analysing Joseph Hanlon’s escape, which was given as the most likely explanation for the Crown’s failure to secure a guilty verdict. You could almost sense the disappointment in the reporter’s voice. The shadow Home Secretary was given a brief cameo appearance and was quick to call for the resignation of her opposite number, but there was little prospect of that. The blame for Hanlon’s disappearance had already been firmly placed within the Prison Service.
Dudley was, of course, delighted. He had not risked attending the court himself. He knew that the police would be looking for him. He only left his bedsit now during the hours of darkness.
Half an hour later, his mobile rang. It was Maxine. She instructed him to meet her just after midnight on Victoria Embankment by the River Trent. She told him she’d be on her motorcycle and would come on to the embankment through the Wilford Grove entrance. There would be nobody about apart from a few inebriates at that time of night.
‘Why there?’ moaned Dudley. ‘Can’t you come here? How am I supposed to find you on the embankment? And why so late?’
Maxine replied, sharply. ‘Do you want your money or not?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Well, be there at midnight. And I shan’t wait for long so make sure you’re not late. I have other business to attend to.’
Dudley sighed, but the thought of a hundred thousand pounds in cash was incentive enough. He was already counting it in his imagination.
‘Alright, I’ll be there. But it’s bloody inconvenient!’
He switched off his phone and looked at his watch. It was not yet six thirty. He lit a cigarette and poured himself a Scotch and then slumped down on the sofa. He was quite unable to settle. He considered visiting Lizzie Duston but thought better of it. He felt it sensible to keep his distance at least for a few days. His phone rang again. It was Michael Doyle, recently released from custody in Colchester.
‘Michael,’ he said, with some enthusiasm. He listened for a minute or two then laughed. ‘So, we did it. They fell for it? Hook, line and sinker.’
‘We certainly did,’ replied Doyle. ‘But there’s just one little problem.’
Manning hesitated. ‘What’s that?’
‘The last time. The drug overdose. That wasn’t me.’
Manning was immediately concerned. ‘What do you mean? It wasn’t you?’
‘Those tablets you arranged for me, I never took them. Someone else must have drugged me. I was told by the medics it was bloody serious. I was taken to hospital. I was very nearly a goner.’
‘What was it? Did they say?’
‘Morphine, they reckon. And I definitely didn’t take it, not knowingly anyway.’
‘But who could have given it you?’
‘That’s what worrying me. I have no idea how it got into my system. But someone managed it.’ He paused. ‘It looks like somebody out there wants me dead. Ironic isn’t it?’
He laughed, but nervously. Manning did not reply for a few moments. He was thinking of his own position. Was he going to be at risk too? Doyle interrupted his thoughts.
‘Anyway, I’ll be on my way up to the Midlands shortly. I need to see Jules urgently. We have a lot to discuss. I can meet with you sometime afterwards. I have to see my probation officer first thing tomorrow. I hope to get to Leicester late tonight. I assume you have nothing you need to deal with?’
Manning paused. He wasn’t going to disclose his meeting with Maxine to Doyle. That arrangement was nothing to do with anyone else. And he had no intention of telling Doyle about the money he was about to receive or reveal the other activities that he had engaged in for financial reward. That was a little earner he had worked out for himself. No need for Doyle to know anything about it. In fact, there were some things he simply couldn’t mention to him.
‘No, nothing of consequence. Just a little private business I need to sort out. I can see you anytime. Will Sunday night be alright? I have to be careful moving about during the day.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’m in breach of my parole licence. I can’t risk being picked up. I really need to make myself scarce for a while.’
‘Well, don’t you vanish before we meet up. I may require your assistance again. Sunday night it is. Where are you now?’
‘I’m in a bedsit just off Gregory Boulevard, Mansfield Road end. I’m giving it up on Monday. How’s about meeting up outside the Gladstone pub in Luscoe Road. It’s not far from here and it’ll be very quiet on a Sunday night.’
‘I’m not that familiar with Nottingham.’
‘Get a cab. Will you be on the train?’
&nbs
p; ‘Depends on the reception I get from Jules. I haven’t spoken to her yet. She’s staying in a hotel on Maid Marion Way. I’ll be seeing her sometime over the week-end – I hope.’
‘You’ll be fine. She’s mad about you. It was in the papers. She’s more worried about seeing you than you seeing her, according to what she said in court. And she was on oath.’
Doyle was not so sure.
‘We’ll see. I’ll get to the Gladstone for eight o’clock Sunday. Make sure you’re there. Hopefully, I will have sorted things out with Jules by then.’
‘Okay.’
‘And Dudley, be careful! There’s something going on. I don’t know who’s behind it, but it’s something to do with Jules, I’m sure of it. So watch your back!’
Chapter Forty-Eight
‘How did she take it?’ asked Cronshaw, as he and Everdene left court together and headed for the railway station. The Press hordes had departed. Canal Street was almost deserted.
‘Not at all as I anticipated. Do you know, I really think she expected to be convicted.’
‘Probably because she knows she’s guilty,’ grumbled prosecution counsel. But he was smiling as he said it.
Everdene paused as they turned into Trent Street. He shook his head and rested his heavy bag on the pavement.
‘Whatever the truth may be, we have the jury’s verdict – and that’s what counts. Mind you, it must have been by a majority, given their note. So at least one of them agreed with you.’
‘And Doyle? I take it you told her the good news?’
Everdene sighed.
‘That’s the other thing that surprised me. She didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about seeing him. Oh, she’s agreed to meet with him in the next couple of days. She received a message via probation, but she sounded none too keen.’
‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall when that conversation takes place.’
Everdene shook his head.
‘I don’t think I want to know what might pass between them. She may have been acquitted, but I suspect she’s going to find herself in all sorts of trouble with Doyle. Happily, that will be none of my concern.’
‘Not only Doyle. There’s someone else in her life apart from him. I’m convinced of it. You mark my words. We haven’t heard the last of Julia Hamilton.’
* * * *
Julia had booked into the Albany Hotel on Maid Marion Way under the assumed name of Julia Blackstone, a subterfuge suggested by Felicity Garrard in an attempt to avoid Press intrusion. She had been successfully smuggled out of a side door while the reporters waited outside the main court entrance and listened to Giles Pepper’s somewhat contrived explanation for the jury’s verdict. It was all guesswork, of course, but the reporters lapped it up.
After registration, she relaxed in her suite on the fourth floor, checking her mobile phone which had been restored to her following her acquittal. She was anxious to speak to her mother about little Michael but had difficulty contacting her. The battery was fading. She threw it down in frustration.
She was not looking forward to seeing Doyle. He would be telephoning her soon. That was the message she had received from the court probation officer which was why she had no intention of charging her phone, not before the morning. She was not going to make it easy for him to locate her. But she knew she’d have to meet him eventually, unless her new lover intervened. She really couldn’t avoid it. He must know about the child, she thought to herself. There’s no way I can continue pretending he’s Michael’s father. I shall have to have it out with him.
She flung herself down on the large double bed, buried her head in the soft pillows and contemplated her situation. She had known for a long time, ever since she stopped using the contraceptive pill way back in the spring of 1998, that Doyle was probably infertile. Not that she had alerted him to her suspicions. She comforted herself in the knowledge that she had genuinely tried to get pregnant by him, such was the unspoken urge she felt to have a child. She had, when she found herself pregnant, really wanted the child to be his but she had realised that was most unlikely. There was a much more obvious candidate.
It was when she was trying to resolve Doyle’s indebtedness to Grayling – behind his back - that she had met and fallen for little Michael’s father. She had not anticipated anything when she met him. It had just happened. She’d read about such moments but never expected to experience one herself. She had enjoyed a very brief sexual liaison with him which had taken her into hitherto undiscovered realms of pleasure and sensuality. Then he suddenly cut off contact. No reason was given. Her telephone calls went unanswered. She was bereft and angry, but she had not really expected or intended the affair to last, so she had concentrated her affections once again on Doyle. She never expected to see her paramour again, although she knew she would never forget him. She pulled herself together and worked towards Doyle’s release from custody. When her pregnancy was confirmed, Doyle, of course, assumed the child was his and she had initially led him to believe as much. She hoped in her heart of hearts that it was. She had read in a magazine somewhere that a man with a low sperm count could sometimes father a child when the woman was particularly receptive. So she convinced herself that Doyle might well be the father. But then he contacted her out of the blue. He had somehow discovered her condition and insisted on checking out the prospective child’s paternity. His father was terminally ill and family suddenly mattered to him. If the child were his he wanted to know. Julia was both flattered and afraid. Flattered that she had seemingly made such an impression but panicky about throwing her lot in with him. Although she found him physically irresistible, there was something about him that alarmed her. She had learnt how to handle Doyle. She could control him almost without thinking about it, but he was something else. He had a ruthless, callous streak that put her own to shame and she knew if she saw him again she would not be able to resist him. He only had to look at her and she would yield, which in itself quite terrified her. And with Doyle in custody there was no impediment to their meeting again. Their affair resurrected, she had seen him several times before her trip to Brussels. He knew about Doyle, of course, but regarded him as an inconvenient irritation of little consequence
Then everything changed. Julia’s plan to secure Doyle’s release by blackmailing Judge Campion was transformed into an elaborate arrangement to ensure he spent the rest of his life in custody. Her lover had appreciated the irony. That the plan to free him should be switched into a scheme to remove him from Julia’s life – permanently – appealed to him and he took all the arrangements out of her hands. All she was required to do was make the phone call to Gus Grayling on 12 March. Why, she wasn’t told. She was even given a script to read. It would all become clear in due course, she was assured. She initially felt very guilty about Doyle, but was quickly persuaded to go along with the new arrangements. The other option was for Doyle to meet with a fatal accident while he was in prison. ‘It can easily be arranged,’ she was told. Julia would not agree to that, not that she had any real say in the matter. But she also knew what she really wanted and it wasn’t Doyle. Not any longer. She was always one for the main chance and Doyle no longer qualified.
Little Michael’s paternity was established shortly after he was born. The DNA analysis carried out without Doyle’s knowledge or consent, could not be disputed. Even the sample from Doyle, necessary to eliminate him from consideration, was obtained covertly while he was in prison. The process may not have been legal but the result was scientifically sound.
It was only Julia’s arrest and prosecution that had forced a re-think. Her appearing in court for trial had not been anticipated, certainly not by her. She never believed she would actually be charged. But when Duffy implicated her, matters had to be reconsidered.
‘Can’t you simply remove Duffy?’ she had asked blandly. ‘He won’t be able to give evidence against me then?’
It
was explained that such an obvious remedy could not be attempted – not yet. Duffy had placed some damaging evidence about her lover and his organisation with his solicitor to be disclosed in the event of his death. That material would have to be recovered before such a step could be taken.
Her lover also appreciated Julia would risk losing sympathy if the truth as to her child’s paternity were to emerge at her trial. In fact, if little Michael’s real father were revealed, conviction would be a certainty, so Doyle was re-instated, temporarily, as Michael’s father. The jury would be more understanding of a pregnancy arising from a seemingly committed and long-term relationship. Such at least was the calculation. Once she was acquitted – and steps would be taken to ensure she was - Doyle would become history. After all, he would be spending many years in prison. By the time he was released, they would be on the other side of the world – far out of his reach or influence.
And now, Doyle’s unexpected discharge from custody had sent shock waves through their carefully worked-out strategy. Julia had, ironically, been telling the truth when she had informed Chief Inspector Hood that her relationship with Doyle was over. There could be no question, however, of revealing the identity of her lover. Even now, he insisted on remaining very much in the shadows. It was essential that the authorities did not discover who he was or that he was even in the country. That’s why her apparent involvement with Bill Savage had proved such a convenient if unlooked for distraction, just as Chief Inspector Hood had always suspected. Neither had Hood fallen for the attempt to pin responsibility for the kidnap and blackmail on Doyle. That had disappointed them, but his fifteen-year sentence for the Charnwood robbery had proved sufficient recompense, removing him as it did from immediate contact with Julia. But one matter of concern remained. Doyle knew that Julia had participated in the Charnwood robbery. He was also aware she had transported half a million pounds into Europe which was initially supposed to discharge Doyle’s indebtedness to Grayling. If he revealed any of this to the police, Julia might well face trial again. And that could not be tolerated. It could not be allowed to happen. Her lover had promised her that much when she phoned him with the news of Doyle’s release. They had spoken only once since her remand in custody - he’d insisted on that - but she tingled with excitement when she heard his voice. He assured her all would be well. Doyle would not be allowed to interfere with their lives again. He was on his way. He would protect her. She had nothing to fear.
A Private and Convenient Place Page 39