He was paying the cabbie when he spotted Virginia. He froze on the spot. Even with her back to him, it couldn’t have been anyone else. That confident air of generations past, the style, the class, would have made her stand out in any crowd. But what was she doing hiding away in a back alley talking to Desmond Mellor of all people? Seb didn’t even realize they knew each other, but why wasn’t he surprised? He would immediately tell Uncle Giles and leave it for him to decide if they should let Emma know. Perhaps not until after the trial was over.

He slipstreamed in among a tide of pedestrians to make sure neither of them spotted him. As he entered the Royal Courts of Justice, he ran up the wide staircase, dodging in and out of bewigged barristers as well as witnesses and defendants who wished they weren’t there, until at last he reached the lobby outside court fourteen.

“Over here, Seb,” called a voice.

Seb looked around to see Giles and his mother sitting in the corner of the lobby, chatting to Mr. Trelford, killing time.

He strode across to join them. Giles told him there was no sign of the jury returning. He waited for his mother to resume her conversation with Mr. Trelford before he took Giles aside and told him what he’d just witnessed. “Cedric Hardcastle taught me not to believe in coincidences,” he concluded.

“Particularly when Virginia is involved. With her, everything is planned to the finest detail. However, I don’t think this is the time to tell your mother.”

“But how could those two possibly know each other?”

“Alex Fisher has to be the common factor,” said Giles. “But what worries me is that Desmond Mellor is a far more dangerous and clever man than Fisher ever was. I’ve never understood why he resigned from Barrington’s so soon after he became deputy chairman.”

“I’m responsible for that,” said Seb, and explained the deal he’d made with Hakim Bishara.

“Clever, but be warned, Mellor isn’t the type to forgive or forget.”

“Would all those involved in the case of Fenwick versus Clifton please go to court number fourteen, as the jury is expected to return in the next few minutes.”

The four of them rose as one and made their way quickly back into the courtroom, where they found the judge already seated in her place. Everyone was looking toward the door through which the jury would make their entrance, like theatre-goers waiting for the curtain to rise.

When the door finally opened, the chattering ceased, as the jury bailiff led his twelve charges back into court, then stood aside to allow them to return to their places in the jury box. Once they were settled, he asked the foreman to rise.