But now there was an issue looming. On his next birthday, in just four months’ time, he would be seventy, which was the compulsory retirement age for a judge, although it was possible to get a one- or two-year extension. He was fit, as alert as ever and had no desire at all to retire. He loved his job. Human nature fascinated him. He was endlessly intrigued by, above all, two things. The first was the legal question of whether the person in the dock had actually done the crime they were being accused of. Followed by the much bigger social, anthropological question after a guilty verdict: why had they done it?

Love. Jealousy. Greed. They were the front-runners.

Behind them came pure, irrational hatred.

During his career, the prison population in the UK had risen by 70 per cent and was still rising, thanks to deeply flawed social welfare and justice systems. But every now and then, along came a total scumbag, to whom none of the mitigating factors could apply. Someone who had decided to take the wrong path to instant riches by whatever means required – even torture and murder.

One such name was today’s headliner. The case had been listed to start two days earlier but, much to his annoyance, as sometimes happened, had to be delayed as the previous case in Court 3 had overrun. The trial was set down to last for two weeks. It might even be his own swansong, Jupp thought, ruefully. His last really big case.

What a swansong. Regina v Terence Arthur Gready. By all accounts, from what he had read so far, Gready appeared to be a bent solicitor. Very seriously bent.

After the previous court hearing several weeks ago, Jupp was still curious as to why Gready wanted to be tried at one of his home Crown Courts – Lewes. Normally his barrister would have applied for the case to be heard elsewhere in order to ensure impartiality. Jupp knew from previous dealings with this sharp solicitor never to underestimate him, but he couldn’t see what advantages for Gready there might be. Regardless, he was confident that he would ensure the whole judicial process would remain scrupulously fair.

But if there was one thing he loathed even more than a bent copper – of which he’d encountered a few in his time – it was a member of his own profession gone rogue.

26

Thursday 9 May

It was the first week of her new life having left Kempsons for the last time the previous Friday. Meg was free! No longer a slave to her alarm clock and the big corporate world – for a while at least. And although it was only 8.25 a.m., the day was already feeling warm beneath a cloudless sky – and full of promise.

And she was boosted even more by a sweet WhatsApp message from Laura that had come in yesterday afternoon.