‘Will you promise me that?’ The emotion that had disappeared from Longman’s voice had returned. Tears began to fall. ‘Will you promise you’ll catch whoever did this to my dad?’

‘I promise, Russell.’ Levy’s hand began to run back and forth across Longman’s shoulder’s once again. ‘We’ll catch him. I promise.’

Longman did not respond. He could not, not through the tears that were now flowing. Instead he placed his head in his hands, obscuring his face.

Levy stood up and stepped away, back towards the door, where she waited in silence until Longman rose to his feet and wiped the tears from his face.

‘I’m ready,’ he said. His breaking voice was no indicator of his new determination.

‘Are you sure, Russell?’ Levy asked again. ‘We can wait for someone else to be here to support you? Your wife? Brothers?’

‘No one else is coming,’ Longman replied. His voice sounded stronger. ‘Matthew and Peter still don’t know; it’s not something I want to break to them over the phone. And Alice? Well, she doesn’t think of herself as my wife any more so she won’t be coming any time soon.’

‘What about a friend? Anyone?’

‘I don’t want to put anyone else through this, Inspector Levy.’ Longman’s resolve was increasing the longer he spoke. ‘Someone has to do it, and the way it’s worked out that’s me. Like you said, it’s the least my dad deserves.’

TWELVE

Derek Reid reached out for the large packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the small pile near the far corner of his desk. He opened it and devoured the contents absentmindedly, in just a few handfuls. All the while his attention stayed focused on the case papers upon which he had been working, and so it took him a few moments to realise that the bag had been emptied. Once noticed it was quickly remedied. A second pack was open within moments.

The case Reid was preparing was unusual. There had already been a trial and it had not gone Reid’s way. His client had found himself convicted by a jury of a complicated banking fraud. It had been a majority verdict, which usually means that no more than two jurors disagreed with no less than ten others. This case was different. A single juror had been ‘lost’ in the course of the trial; ill-health had forced her discharge. Down to a jury of just eleven, the only majority could be ten against one. Anything less was unacceptable.

This had been explained to the jury. In careful detail and in the simplest of language. There could be no mistake, Reid had thought. Only it now seemed that there could. Following the conviction two jurors had written to the judge, reporting that the jury had been split eight to three. A majority, yes, but insufficient for a lawful majority verdict.

It was an extremely unusual situation. Not to mention a difficult one. There are very strict rules governing the absolute secrecy of a jury’s deliberations. Their workings are regarded as sacrosanct. That cannot be broken. And yet it now seemed that those very workings had failed. If the verdict was unlawful then Reid’s client’s conviction could not stand. This made an appeal necessary. But how to prepare that appeal without breaching the sanctity of the jury room? The problems it posed were exceptional and Reid was finding it difficult to see the way through.