Contents ( 83)
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- Acknowledgements
- OUT NOW IN PAPERBACK
‘Only what Joanne overheard.’ The CNN reporter. A tall, pretty American. Maybe twenty-two years old. Everything Sarah had been back when she was a CNN cub, only this one must have started even younger. ‘Is that why they sent you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean if Joanne was right and the victim really is a judge. Your husband’s some big-shot trial lawyer, right?’
‘My fiancé’s a barrister, yeah. Not sure I’d call him a big shot,’ Sarah answered. ‘And that wouldn’t give me any angle I can see. There are a lot of judges and a lot of lawyers. They don’t all know each other. Besides, we’re not sure if what Joanne overheard was right.’
Sarah was being disingenuous; the cub had called it. Michael’s profession was the reason she had been sent. And far from being unsure about the victim, Sarah had known since just after 10 a.m. that the murder scene was the address of former Lord Chief Justice Phillip Longman. There were few upsides to the marathon legal dinners she had to endure for Michael. Having contacts at the Ministry of Justice was one of them.
‘Joanne heard what she heard,’ the man insisted. ‘She doesn’t miss much. Then she reports back to ITV and suddenly she’s gone. Replaced by the big guns. That seems fairly cut and dried to me.’
‘You may be right.’ Sarah relented, still with no intention of sharing her information. ‘But if they do know something back at the network, they haven’t shared it with me. I wish they would. At least I’d know I’m not melting out here for offending someone.’
The murmur that passed between the three was hard for Sarah to read. It could be agreement. It could be disbelief. Frankly, it didn’t matter. And before anyone could speak again, the automated iron gates began to open.
‘Nathan.’ Sarah was ready. Her cameraman was not. ‘Nathan!’ The second call was louder than the first, her exasperation clear. It worked. Benson’s lens was quickly up and pointing in the right direction.
The gates had been closed since at least 9 a.m., when the press had started to arrive. Since then a mix of uniformed and white-suited police officers had been moving in and out of the house. Now they walked out en masse, twelve in all.
‘Her,’ Sarah whispered, gesturing towards the only person on the driveway who wore neither a police uniform nor a forensics suit. ‘That’s who we need to speak to.’
Benson adjusted his lens with the press of a button, zooming in on the woman Sarah had pointed out. A glance at his camera’s screen confirmed Sarah’s deduction: the woman in plain clothes was in charge.
NINE
Detective Chief Inspector Joelle Levy had no issue with the press. They were necessary. They could even be helpful. There were any number of murder investigations that would have failed without them, she knew. Despite this, some of her colleagues were far from media-friendly. Some actually saw reporters as the enemy.