Page 26 of Dissection of a Murder
“All cases have weak spots,” Davina says, reaching for a croissant. “We’ll just have to find one.”
—
Two hours later my head is banging. Needing fresh air, I nip out to buy lunch. The crushing weight of expectation and stress that comes with this case bears down on me so heavily now I feel suffocated by it. I’m going to humiliate myself publicly and get Jack convicted at the same time.
What I really want to do is ask Julian for help.Am I doing this bitright? How would you approach this?But I can’t do any of that because, right now, he’s my opponent.
Waiting in the never-ending line to get served, I reach for my phone for the first time since I left chambers. I have a new private message on myChats at the BarInstagram account. It was sent seven minutes ago.
@JustAnotherDumbBlonde
Very much enjoyed your talk at Mountcross Academy. Particularly entertaining to hear you talk about your terribly sad childhood *eye roll* You must have forgotten about the top boarding school you attended. Excellent advice about how we shouldn’t encourage sexual inappropriateness with people at work…just a shame you can’t follow it yourself. If this is how you distort your own truth, I worry for Jack Millman.
11
Leila
Friday, February 8, 2019
Durham Crown Court
Five years earlier
There is somethingin legal circles known as a “hospital pass,” which is a case nobody else wants. It’s often a case that’s unwanted because it’s going to be tied up in legal argument all day, or the witnesses are going to be a nightmare (if they turn up at all). Sometimes, it’s because the case is at a court at the other end of the country. They’re usually given to junior barristers because they’re less likely to kick up a fuss.
Jim called me at 8:32this morningwith the immortal and now familiar words.
“Miss Reynolds, I’m aware you’ve booked to be out of court today, but I have a plea and trial preparation hearing I need returning, and you’re the only barrister available.”
I couldn’t say no, even though Julian and I had planned to set off for our trip to the Lake District. He’d booked a cottage for the weekend, and we were meant to be leaving in thirty minutes.
“No problem, Jim,” I said, as Julian violently shook his head in my direction. As a barrister, you become used to this at the junior end.Julian would be allowed to turn it down as he’s more senior, but I’m not yet at a point in my career where I’m able to do so.
“Thank you, Miss Reynolds! I’ll get it on early so you and Mr. Kesler can be off as soon as possible. He’s spoken of nothing else all week.”
Cute. It’s been a hectic twelve months, what with getting married and Julian taking silk. We try and grab these moments away when we can. It’s not easy trying to coordinate diaries, especially when this kind of thing happens.
“I appreciate that. What’s the name of the defendant?”
“Millman. Jack Millman.”
—
I dash into chambers to pick up the brief before heading to court. I need to become acquainted with it quickly so I can advise Mr. Millman as to whether he should plead guilty or not guilty at his hearing today. He’s charged with Section 20 inflicting grievous bodily harm, the less serious of the two GBH offenses. Mr. Millman works the door security at the Temptation Club in Durham (dodgy in itself) and it’s alleged he assaulted the complainant—a man called Tony Flanagan—by delivering a punch to the jaw that forced him to stumble backward and fall into a glass table, which cut his body to bits.
It doesn’t take long to understand why nobody wanted this case. Tony Flanagan is well-known within the criminal network. He’s also the rival of Eddie Sorrington, who owns the Temptation Club.
It’s going to be a knotty case.
I call out for Mr. Millman on the concourse, and a man with short, jet-black hair and striking blue eyes stands and walks toward me. Unlike most of my clients, he’s formally dressed. A navy-blue suit and white shirt rest smartly on his broad frame.
“Are you Miss Reynolds?” he asks, offering his hand for me to shake.
“I am, yes.” I nod, surprised by his politeness. I take his hand and meet his eye. I always think you can tell a lot about a man by his handshake. “I’m your barrister today. Sorry, but your solicitor is tied up with another case at the moment. Let’s have a chat before we go in.”
I take him into a conference room beside court and get straight to it. I’ve seen from his antecedent history he’s familiar with the system but doesn’t have anything for violence since he was fifteen. Now that he’s twenty-seven years old, this allegation seems quite out of character.
“You gave a no-comment interview upon arrest so, as far as the prosecution are concerned, they have no idea what your version of events is. I’ve read the notes from your solicitor, which details what you told them in conference—namely, that your reason for assaulting Mr. Flanagan was because you found him in a room attempting to sexually assault a young woman called Mia Woods, who is twenty-two?”
