Michael spotted Derek Reid in an instant. He was impossible to miss. At six foot three, Reid stood two inches taller than Michael, but it was not just his height that made him distinctive. When the two had met seventeen years before, when Michael had began his practical training as Reid’s pupil, Reid had been much heavier than was healthy. Now aged fifty-seven, he had become almost spherical.

‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ Michael noticed an empty used plate on the long oak table in front of Reid. The time had not been wasted. ‘Wandsworth dragged.’

‘Doesn’t it always?’ Reid pushed his first plate away as he slowly rose to his feet. ‘I’m still bloody starving. Let’s get some food in and then you can moan about prisons and trains.’

The two men made quick work of filling their plates. Regular lunch companions, they had the hot roast carvery down to a fine art. Within minutes they were back at the space Reid had secured, their plates piled high with roasted meat, potatoes and vegetables.

What Reid had already eaten did not seem to have dented his appetite. His plate was five potatoes and an extra portion of beef lighter before he spoke again.

‘So how was he?’ Reid asked between mouthfuls.

‘Just like you said he would be. He’s scared.’

Reid nodded thoughtfully before tackling another potato.

‘Do you think you’ll manage to break through?’ he finally asked, sending two flecks of potato to the corner of his mouth. ‘Enough that he’ll help himself at least a little bit, anyway?’

‘I doubt it,’ Michael replied. ‘Not on today’s showing. That kid doesn’t have what it takes to name names.’

‘Yeah.’ Reid wiped his mouth as he spoke. ‘Yeah. That’s what I thought.’

Reid pushed his now-empty plate away. As he always seemed to do, Michael found himself marvelling at his friend’s ability to put food away; his own plate was still three-quarters full.

‘If Simon could find the courage to stand up for himself,’ Reid continued, ‘you could nail O’Driscoll and show up Colliver for the lying – and probably murdering – little bastard that he is. All Simon has to do is untie your hands and let you do it. Twenty minutes with those shits in the witness box and you’d have them coughing to the lot, if you were allowed to. I know you will.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

Michael realised that his response sounded flippant the moment he said it, and he regretted it just as quickly. Whether Reid knew it or not, his trust in Michael’s ability to pick apart a witness meant everything to the younger man. The fact that Michael, as a QC, was now the senior of the two was nothing but a twist of fate. Michael regarded it as a scandal that Reid had not attained the rank himself – and years ago at that – but to him it did not change a thing. With or without those letters, Derek Reid was the most talented barrister he had ever known.