Not too badly, was the honest answer, considering that the future of their magazine depends on winning this case. The Real Byte was a small outfit which had stumbled on a big exclusive and were paying the price. The magazine’s executive editor, Tomas Jansen, was born and graduated in Denmark and had started The Real Byte five years previously when the demand for quick, accessible online news was starting to increase exponentially. He had written the Elias article, with some input from his managing editor, Gail Woodbead. Their small team was completed by Karl Jones, the magazine’s technical director. Those three – and a handful of external contributors – comprised the entirety of the magazine’s human element.

Elinor Fox was apparently still speaking. ‘Miss Someday?’

‘No comment,’ Georgie said.

‘Not even one little quote?’

‘Not one. Thank you.’

Fox pinched her face together in what appeared to be a sympathetic gesture but which was obviously a manifestation of huge disappointment and utter contempt.

Then Georgie saw something flit past her vision. She scanned the air around her, then saw a bee land behind Fox. She stiffened and moved around the reporter, who looked puzzled.

‘Sorry,’ said Georgie, motioning to the insect. ‘I’m allergic to bee stings. It’s called anaphylaxis.’

A voice crackled over the PA system – ‘All parties in Elias v. The Real Byte Limited to court thirteen. That’s all parties in Elias v. The Real Byte Limited to court thirteen, please’ – and Georgie took the opportunity to go back inside, giving the bee and the reporter a wide berth.

Once inside, she looked around, realising that she would have to explain to both Okoro and the clients that they would have to proceed without Charlie and Simeon for now. Just don’t shoot the messenger. Wait! Is that . . . ?

A figure bounded up the court steps and threw his keys and a phone into the security box. He looked up and waved at her. She pointed to her watch and Charlie Priest waved her away, as if they had all the time in the world.

He collected his things from the box once it had passed through the scanner then started to usher her across the lobby to court thirteen. ‘Did you miss me?’

‘Vincent will be very angry,’ Georgie advised.

‘No doubt. How’s Dickie looking?’

‘Richard Hagworth QC?’

‘Yes. Dickie.’

‘He looks OK, I guess.’

‘Oh, come on, Georgie. I’ve seen Ikea tables with more movement in their joints. Now, where’s Simeon?’

Georgie stopped.

‘I thought he was with you?’

Chapter 6

Chapter 6