Jia hadn’t been able to argue with that: she was representing one of Nowak’s henchmen. She had thought something was off about the case and seeing Jimmy had confirmed it. She’d been a barrister for almost two decades. Some people were obviously guilty, some obviously innocent, and then there were those who fell into the grey, people like her own family. She had initially read law to arm herself, to be better equipped than those who tried to use it against her and those she loved. But once she’d turned her back on her father, she came to believe in the justice system. She’d liked that the lines were clean and clear. If you stepped over them you deserved punishment, but only if it could be proved you’d done so. The law, unlike men, was dependable. It was easy to navigate; you always knew where you stood with it.

Jimmy had begged her to do something. He knew her client was a pawn and that the actual man responsible for what happened to his daughter was paying for his defence. When he’d heard that Akbar Khan’s daughter was representing the guy, he had come to her in the hope of a better, cleaner kind of justice.

But Jia Khan was not ready to deliver.

***

Andrzej Nowak sat in the gallery, watching as the barrister looked through her notes, placing them face down after finishing each argument. He noted her every movement, every flicker of emotion. She was striking, not as tall as they’d said, but steeled, like the exterior of an armoured vehicle. He watched her hands, her lips, her long, olive-skinned neck, and wondered what it would take to break it. He parked the thought. It interested him. Very little did nowadays. Boredom had set in. He leaned forward to listen as she questioned the officer responsible for the operation that had brought in his man.

‘Just a few questions, Officer Swan,’ said Jia.

This was the first time the officer had given evidence since returning from maternity leave. Her baby was teething, and she hadn’t had much sleep. Adjusting to work again was proving harder than she had anticipated. The laddish culture of the drugs division was well known across the force. She didn’t want to give them any excuse to judge her.

Jia smiled gently at the woman. ‘Can I get you some water?’ she asked. The police officer nodded. The sign of solidarity from the only other woman on this side of the court allowed her to exhale.

Jia looked up from her place at the defence desk and ran through some general questions about the investigation, putting the officer at ease. Then she seemed a little straighter, her eyes clearer: ‘Were you sleeping with the defendant’s wife, Officer Swan?’ she said.