“Chris is innocent, and I’ll prove it.” I stand firm, I will not let her intimidate me.

“Spill it then,” she says.

This is a breach of convention. She cannot ask me to reveal my hand at this stage in the proceedings.

“I can see you are dying to tell me.”

She’s not wrong, to be fair. “So, just tell me what you’re going to use as a defense.” She shrugs. It’s not a big deal, her eyes say. “A professional courtesy,” she adds. “Just please, for the love of all that is holy, do not tell me that you are going to claim diminished responsibility, or temporary loss of control, or any one of the other bullshit things lawyers like you come up with to excuse the behavior of the men you represent.”

“You underestimate me, your honor,” I reply. “He’s not innocent because the charge should be downgraded to manslaughter. He’s innocent because there is no murder to try. Megan isn’t dead.”

She laughs as she stands and takes a few strides toward the window, where a tall thin bottle of mezcal and four crystal glasses sit on a silver tray. I note that it is the brand “Ilegal”—having it on display has become something of a running joke around chambers, where the offer of a drink is normally prefaced with a comment about “having a spot of the illegal stuff.”

“Well, now I really have heard it all.” She motions toward the mezcal and I nod. “So, if Megan isn’t dead, why is there a body in my morgue?”

“The body is Leah Patterson.”

“The sister your client kidnapped?”

“The identical twin sister that you allege my client kidnapped, yes.”

She pours us both a large measure of the clear liquor and passes me one. “Here’s to a fun trial,” she says, clinking her glass against mine.

“May the best man win,” I reply, hitting my glass against hers with more force than is strictly necessary.

Chapter Twenty-Five

TEN MONTHS LATER…

There is one thing that has been bugging me since the start. Leah’s bank account was underpinned with a state-of-the-art system that used biometric scans via webcam to confirm identity. Normally it would use facial recognition, but Leah’s used retinal scan data. An identical twin can, obviously, fool facial recognition, but retinal scans are unique. Leah’s account had a mechanism by which you could put in a flag word and then the system would “lock you out” when you did the scan. It was used to create a flag for hostage victims, a way of raising a silent alarm that something was wrong.

But here’s the kicker. It only sends a message if the retinal scan is successful. If just anyone activates the system, it won’t work. Which means that it was Leah sitting in front of the retinal scan.

It took my intern Jemima almost a week to find the footage. The only image was one captured by a small camera above the posh cafe three doors down. A woman going into the Knightsbridge branch of Pullman Bank. Jemima found an employee of the bank who was willing to offer some advice on opening similar accounts and the kind of security measures put in place. Jemima used her trust fund to deposit over a million in cash into an account to prove the system. I went with her, posing as her bodyguard. I like a bit of role play and I’m not afraid to take a more subservient position if the situation calls for it.