Contents ( 84)
- 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-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
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- Acknowledgements
‘OK. I’ll leave you to it. Have a great day.’
Michael stopped himself. No matter how late he might be, he would not let Sarah leave like that. He turned back, took her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the lips.
‘You too, gorgeous.’ He took a step backwards, one hand still on her cheek. ‘Good luck with the story.’
‘Good luck with the judge.’
‘Trust me, mine’s easier than yours today.’
SIXTY-ONE
Michael gripped the wrought-iron railings that led from his front door to the street, threw his red robe bag over his shoulder and trod carefully onto the first step down.
The snow from the previous night had settled on the paths and roads of Chelsea. It looked magical; as if the residential square on which their townhouse was set had been designed for a picture postcard. But magical was not the same as practical, and so Michael took care as he negotiated the ice-covered steps to the street.
Once on the pathway he turned right and headed towards the King’s Road, checking his watch as he moved.
8.15 a.m.
It’s gonna be tight.
The journey from Chelsea to Woolwich Crown Court was simple enough, but it was not quick. Sloane Square Station to Plumstead via tube and then an overland train. An hour and five minutes, not including waiting, delays, or the time it would take to be searched and then change once he reached the court.
And Michael was expected to be before the judge in an hour and thirty.
It’s gonna be bloody tight.
He walked fast. Left onto the King’s Road and then straight ahead, towards Sloane Square. Unusually he was carrying just one item of luggage, his red robe bag. It contained his wig, his silk robe and a single blue counsel’s notebook. Far less than he would usually need for a day in court, but then this morning’s hearing was going to be unusual. He was travelling all the way to Woolwich Crown Court to explain Nizar Mansour’s medical unavailability. Nothing more.
The fact that the hearing had to go ahead at all was a scandalous waste of time, but it at least allowed him to travel light. And that in turn allowed him to travel quick. A silver lining of sorts.
Nizar Mansour’s medical unavailability.
The thought popped back into Michael’s head as he walked, reminding him that he did not know any of the details behind it. If he was going to explain what had happened, he needed to first find out for himself.
He reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out his iPhone. He’d rushed out of the house too quickly to give it time to charge but Sarah had left her portable power pack for him to use. Michael turned the phone on, hoping it finally had enough juice to come alive. Within seconds he was rewarded with the welcome sight of the start-up logo.
The phone’s alerts started to go off as the message notifications began to roll in. A backlog from the hours the handset had been ignored and then powered off.