Post Mortem, Gary Bell [best fiction novels .txt] 📗

proceed with decorum, shall we? Mr Rook, I’ll allow you to continue, but do so with caution and keep the questions relevant.’

‘Caution and relevant are my twin watchwords, My Lady. Now, DI Linford, did Pickett give you information regarding the so-called E10 Cutthroats?’

‘He did,’ Linford relented with a soft nod.

‘Were these alleged gang members arrested and subsequently remanded in custody at HMP Wormwood Scrubs?’

‘Six of them were.’

‘Were they arrested for dealing drugs?’

‘Yes.’

‘And was that only days before thirteen inmates at that very same prison were killed with poisoned Spice?’

‘Yes, I believe it was.’

‘Thank you, DI Linford. How many times have you been inside the defendant’s home?’

He thought about it for a moment. ‘Twice. The first was back in January, when her property was searched after the discovery of the drugs in her car.’

‘Did you find any more drugs or drug paraphernalia on the property?’

‘We did not.’

‘And was there a dog on the premises at that time?’

‘No. I know she claimed to have one in her supplementary defence statement, but it wasn’t there in January and it wasn’t there the second time I visited on Wednesday of last week.’

‘So, if she did have one, it must have lived there for a short period between those two pivotal dates. Do you know where she might have acquired such a dog?’

‘She very recently claimed to have received it as a gift from Deacon Walker, a convicted drug dealer who had served time at Wormwood Scrubs while she was working there. Of course, it’s difficult to ask Mr Walker for his side of the story, as he was found murdered beneath her allotment last Wednesday evening.’

Mutters around the room. ‘True,’ I said, ‘but there’s always a chance of speaking to the man he bought it from, isn’t there?’

Linford frowned. ‘I don’t follow.’

‘Are you familiar with a man named Jacob Werner?’

‘Yes …’ His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Jacob Werner bred fighting dogs at a disused launderette in Croydon. But we only discovered that this weekend, when his body was found on the premises.’

I leaned forward, hands on our row, startled. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The results of his post-mortem haven’t been released yet, but it appears that Jacob Werner was beaten to death at a launderette owned by his cousin, the man who discovered his body.’

‘And the dogs?’

‘Dead. All of them.’

I must’ve fallen quiet, because the next thing I knew Lady Allen was staring down at me and saying my name. ‘Mr Rook? Do you have any more questions?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Thank you, DI Linford.’

That was the end of the prosecution’s case, and though Garrick closed with a flourish that took us into the afternoon, I was too distracted to pay much attention.

‘Mr Rook,’ Lady Allen said, ‘do you want to begin the defence’s case today, or would you prefer to wait until first thing in the morning?’

‘The morning. I would prefer to have a clean start in the morning, My Lady.’

‘Very well. We will adjourn until ten thirty tomorrow.’



I left court to find a message from Percy instructing me to come into chambers to collect a new set of keys, as the locks had been changed this morning. I left Zara on the Tube home, and alighted at Chancery, intending to slip in and out of chambers as quickly and quietly as possible. Any sort of fanfare was the last thing I needed.

When I turned up to the clerks’ room at the back of reception, however, I found Rupert Stubbs waiting for me there. Worse still, upon my arrival, every clerk except for Percy stood up and walked out in silence, closing the door behind them.

Rupert turned an empty chair towards me. ‘Have a seat, Elliot, and lose the hat.’

His tone wasn’t quite as grave as I’d been expecting, but it still caused me to swallow loudly as I accepted his invitation. He began to pace the room then, while Percy watched with his loafers raised on a neighbouring chair and a tight, unimpressed expression on his face.

‘I see that it has been another fascinating twenty-four hours in the life of our newest QC,’ Rupert said.

‘I have to admit,’ I replied, ‘it’s been a bit much, even for me.’

‘A bit much,’ he said, flashing a raised eyebrow in my direction as he floated past. ‘Let’s discuss your most recent accomplishments, shall we? You took it upon yourself to place a witness into hiding, and then secreted the address away in chambers. A witness, it should be added, who is not even involved in one of your own cases, but in that of another barrister’s pupil. This move incited a vicious attack on our caretaker to make way for an impostor who broke into your room, stole said address, and then shot the witness outside the supposedly safe house in which you’d hidden him. Not only that, but you have now been given an Osman warning of your own.’

I sighed. ‘Look, I know that these things always seem to happen to me, but I’m only trying to do my job.’

‘Your job,’ Rupert said. ‘Tell me, Elliot, do you remember the barrister’s code of conduct?’

I glanced to Percy for support, but all he did was shrug.

‘I’m a little rusty …’ I said.

‘A barrister must promote and protect fearlessly and by all proper and lawful means the lay client’s best interests, and do so without regard to his own interests or to any consequences to himself or to any other person. In short –’ Rupert came to a stop and surveyed me from across the room. ‘Well done, pupil. I’m proud of you.’

‘That may be so,’ Percy added irritably, swinging his shoes down to the carpet, ‘but I don’t think the same can be said for DI Linford’s opinion of you. He says that you should concentrate on your own job and leave him to do his.’

‘When did you speak to Linford?’

‘He called earlier to discuss the circus you left behind last night. It seems our temporary cleaner’s application, mere hours before the incident, was more than just a