Post Mortem, Gary Bell [best fiction novels .txt] 📗
- Author: Gary Bell
Book online «Post Mortem, Gary Bell [best fiction novels .txt] 📗». Author Gary Bell
The judge nodded, hands working at her chin, apparently oblivious to the excitable whispers now rising across the room. ‘Officer Linford,’ she said clearly, ‘before the van leaves, it might be a good idea for you to recover those papers from Ms Roth’s client. I’ll issue a warrant for their retrieval. In the circumstances, I don’t think we need to worry about legal professional privilege, do you?’
Jack Linford was already on his feet. ‘I was thinking the same thing, My Lady,’ he said, and he rushed from the room.
‘Members of the jury,’ Allen continued, ‘I think we’d better adjourn until two o’clock to take stock. Please go with the usher.’ She turned to me. ‘Mr Rook, I won’t address you until we return, at which point I hope to God that I have a clearer idea of what on earth is going on here.’
‘Very good, My Lady,’ I replied, already moving for the doors while Garrick sat staring into nothingness.
I expected to see Lydia beyond those doors. I braced myself, still not entirely sure whether I was merely horrified or genuinely hurt, but the first person I saw on the other side was Zara. My head, already whirling, took a moment to process what was happening.
Zara, dressed in her hoody and jeans, was struggling against the grasp of two security personnel.
‘Get off me, you idiots!’
‘What the hell is going on?’ I asked, storming towards the men.
At my approach, they loosened their grips slightly, but each held on to one of her arms.
‘She just came running out of the public gallery and tried to rob a solicitor heading for the exit,’ one of them answered. ‘Don’t worry, she’s going nowhere.’
‘It’s Roth!’ Zara cried, tugging against their grips. ‘She’s doing a runner!’
‘You morons!’ I roared. ‘This woman is a barrister, and that solicitor is disobeying a court order not to leave the building!’
The men shared a glance – at first doubtful, and then extremely worried – and released Zara, who didn’t hang around for any sort of I told you so. She went sprinting for the exit, boots sliding through the corridors, and I followed.
Lydia was already out there, standing some way off across the grounds. With the security guards close behind us, I leapt the steps and ran for the lawn. Then I heard the engine. I heard it before I ever saw it coming.
Through the gates, screaming into the grounds, was that familiar white Audi. It cut directly across the turning circle, gold alloys spitting turf behind them, and halted beside Lydia. Without a backward glance, she threw herself into the passenger seat and slammed the door.
‘She’s going to get away!’ Zara panted, powering ahead of me.
The car was moving, but it wasn’t aiming for the exit. It was speeding directly towards us.
I caught Zara by the hood with both hands and prepared to throw her aside, ready to take the fatal impact in her stead. Fortunately, I never had to. Moments before the car reached us, something came tearing around the courthouse from the left. I flinched, closing my eyes, and the next thing I heard was an almighty crash.
I opened my eyes.
The Audi was stationary, askew across the lawn, with a vaguely familiar black Volvo estate embedded into the side of it. A crowd was already streaming out of the courthouse behind us, every man and woman filming the scene on his or her phone, as Zara and I were still frozen in stunned silence.
From the Volvo, two heavyset plain-clothes officers emerged. They tore open the Audi’s doors and dragged the shell-shocked twins out onto the ground. Daniel Macey appeared to be roaring with anger as the handcuffs went on, though his vocal cords never uttered a sound.
Lydia made up for that, yelling what must’ve been every obscenity known to both the English and Spanish languages. I couldn’t help but feel a secret sorrow; seeing her like this, I felt like such a fool for having ever enjoyed her company. Zara must’ve suspected as much, because she gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder as we watched the scene unfold.
Then another arm landed on my shoulder, and I was surprised to see that this one belonged to DI Linford, who was beaming as if we’d just won a match in his Sunday-morning league. A third officer had appeared from the Volvo, and he was striding towards us as his colleagues held the twins flat on the ground. ‘What shall we nick them for, guv?’
‘Take your pick,’ Linford said. ‘Let’s start with drugs and murder and work our way up from there, shall we?’
At this, a marked police van rolled in through the gates. I could just about hear the twins being cautioned as they were loaded into the back of it, though Lydia was still swearing furiously as blood trickled from her nose. An officer was signing the rights to her brother.
‘How?’ Zara asked. ‘All of this! How the hell did you know?’
‘Contrary to what you both think,’ Linford said, ‘we don’t just issue an Osman warning and then leave you to fend for yourself. You’ve been under our protection for the past twenty-four hours.’
‘Twenty-four hours?’ I replied, eyeing the Volvo with dawning understanding.
‘Of course, we didn’t know exactly who we were protecting you from,’ Linford went on.
‘Well, there’s nothing like leaving it until the last second, is there, Detective Inspector?’
Linford laughed. I couldn’t quite bring myself to laugh with him.
PART FOUR
OLD BOYS
31
‘Have your cases always been like this?’ Zara asked. We were circling Eagle Pond, the massive expanse of water covering the northern quarter of Snaresbrook’s grounds. It was almost two o’clock, and I was nearly out of cigarettes. I’d arrived with a full pack.
‘They didn’t used to be,’ I told her. ‘Not until you came along.’
‘Maybe we’re bad influences on each other.’
‘Almost certainly,’ I said.
She smiled. ‘Well, you’re not in an ambulance this time, which is good.’
‘Yes. Every cloud, I suppose.’
‘At
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