A Mind to Kill

Chapter Eleven

‘She can’t be taken away! She’s all I have now.’ There was no sensation of Jane and Jennifer forced herself to remain icily calm after the initial outburst. Panic or hysteria wouldn’t save Emily. And saving Emily – keeping Emily – was abruptly the most important consideration. The only consideration. It was still difficult to sit on the side of the bed and not do more, speak louder, to make them understand. Dr Lloyd was beside her, still holding the wrist he’d snatched up to check her pulse rate at the screamed protest.

‘Is she all right?’ demanded Hall, worriedly.

‘Pulse is OK,’ nodded Lloyd.

‘Don’t talk across me!’ demanded Jennifer. ‘I’m perfectly under control: Jane isn’t here. I said Emily isn’t being taken away from me. You’ve got to stop it. Stop it now.’

‘Is there no family, on either side, who could become legal guardians in your…’ Perry hesitated. ‘… in your absence?’

The question unnecessarily reminded Jennifer once more of how totally alone she was and momentarily she couldn’t reply. Swallowing she said, ‘No. No-one.’

‘What about Gerald’s family?’

‘There isn’t one. He was an only child, no uncles and no aunts. And his parents are dead.’

‘The local authorities do have a legal responsibility, although I am surprised they’re exercising it so quickly,’ warned the solicitor, cautiously. He ignored the now vacant chairs. So did Hall. The doctor remained where he was, beside Jennifer on the bed, although he released her wrist.

‘Emily hasn’t been abandoned. Left.’ Jennifer became aware of the two policewomen staring through the window. ‘Must they look in like that? I’m like a bloody freak show.’

‘They’re not being allowed in here any more, so I’m afraid you’ve got to put up with it,’ said the barrister. He should have anticipated the effect upon her of the official approach about the child but hadn’t. But then neither had Perry. At least there’d been the forethought to get Geoffrey Johnson the woman’s power of attorney.

Jennifer made an impatient dismissive gesture. ‘Emily can’t be taken away from me! I won’t let that happen.’

Hall breathed in, heavily. ‘I won’t hold out any false hope. Legally she can be, if you’re convicted.’

‘I’ve not been convicted, not yet,’ seized Jennifer. ‘I’m still innocent, aren’t I?’

‘Yes,’ conceded Perry and Hall regretted the doubt in the man’s voice.

‘Then they can’t do anything. Emily is being cared for by a certificated nanny, in a mansion for Christ’s sake. She’s the best looked after child in England.’

‘That’s probably right, at the moment,’ agreed Hall. ‘You want us legally to oppose any move by the authorities?’

‘Of course I do!’ said Jennifer, with fresh impatience. ‘I want you to do every conceivable thing to block whatever they try to do. I don’t care what it is or how much it costs. Just do it.’ There was a sudden empty feeling of helplessness. ‘Please…’ She half reached out, towards the barrister, before stopping, embarrassed at the unthinking movement. She was glad the man hadn’t instinctively responded.

‘We could prove adequate care provision with an onsite visit: attend ourselves,’ Perry suggested. Halfway through he remembered Jennifer’s dislike of being ignored and turned away from Hall to include her as he spoke.

‘Arrange it,’ said Jennifer, eagerly.

‘This nanny…?’ Hall let the question trail.

‘… Annabelle,’ prompted Jennifer.

‘… Annabelle is definitely certificated?’

‘Norland trained,’ assured Jennifer. ‘She’s been with us since Emily was born… Emily adores her…’

‘There’s no question of her not continuing in the job?’ pressed Perry, careless of the grammar.

‘Of course not! Why should there be!’

‘We’d better establish that positively, before any meeting with the authorities,’ said Hall. He didn’t have any real doubt from the woman’s behaviour with the psychiatrist and the neurologist that she was suffering some mental abnormality. How much worse might it get if the child was officially put into care? He probably could, technically, prevent the child being taken until after a court verdict but it didn’t amount to anything more than postponing the inevitable. He really didn’t intend offering false hope but there was nothing to be achieved, apart perhaps from a worse collapse, from being too honest with her. A doubt began to flicker. It was curious that all talk of voices in her head ended at the threat of losing her daughter. Hall stopped the reflection, positively: wrong to risk preconceived impressions before hearing the professional opinion of the two specialists. Worth mentioning to them, though.

‘You’ll do it all today: stop the process before it begins?’ demanded Jennifer, urgently.

‘Before doing that I think it’s important to get things clear between us,’ said Perry. ‘During the interview with the police I got the feeling you were dissatisfied with your legal representation…’

Hall frowned. It was something that had to be clarified and Perry was the person who had to do it but he wished the timing could have been different. His look towards the bed was for a reaction but for the first time he properly focused on the woman herself. Almost unconsciously his initial impression had been that Jennifer Lomax really had looked like a mad woman, lank-haired, bedraggled and distraught. But today the eyes weren’t black ringed any more, the blond hair had a semblance of a style and what little make-up she’d bothered with wasn’t smudged: the swelling had gone down and the cut lip was scarcely noticeable. She was, in fact, looking more like the woman whose photograph was yet again blazoned over that day’s newspapers, although the head-tilted, almost arrogant confidence of the pictures wasn’t evident in the woman at whom he was looking. But then it would have been impossible to appear elegant in the hospital smock and towelling robe.

Jennifer returned Jeremy Hall’s attention, although not appraisingly but honestly. He was a very broad-shouldered man and she liked the way he looked directly at her, not avoiding her eyes as if he was embarrassed or afraid of her. The blue striped suit was beginning to shine at the elbows and she guessed the shirt was on its second wearing. It looked like a family crest on the signet ring. She really didn’t want to do what she had to: she simply didn’t have a choice. Maintaining the calm – enjoying being able to feel it without the Southern drawl voice echoing in her head – she said, ‘I am not mad but I could easily be made so by the nightmare I’m living in, right now…’ A smile came, briefly. ‘Except that I am not going to let it happen. But for me to survive, in any court, I need the very best criminal lawyer it is possible to get. Which means someone with murder trial experience. Someone, in fact, whose very reputation is going to make a court listen: to believe him because he believes me. I’m not trying to be offensive or doubt you. But I’m fighting, literally, for my sanity and my freedom and now I’m fighting for my child. I can’t concern myself with hurt feelings…’ Jennifer straggled to a stop, not sure how further to explain herself.

‘I can assure you, Mrs Lomax…’ began Perry but Hall broke across the solicitor’s stood-to-attention formality.

‘No, let me. I am not offended by anything you’ve said, today or prior to today. We are still very much in the preliminary stages of your case. We’ve talked about that. Like we’ve talked about my being a junior counsel. Which is the capacity in which I will act, to the best of my ability. No leader – that’s what we call a QC, heading a case – becomes involved now. Don’t be offended for your part, but what we are doing now is the nuts and bolts of a defence preparation. Which is the function of a junior counsel.’ He found it virtually impossible to believe a woman who had just expressed herself so logically and reasonably was the same person who a few hours earlier had been ranting and raving obscenities.

‘So there will be a QC with previous experience of murder trials?’ insisted Jennifer.

Just as pedantically Hall said, ‘There are eight QCs in my chambers. I will ask the most experienced, in murder, to represent you.’

Jennifer did not speak for several moments. ‘Thank you. I trust you.’

For even longer Humphrey Perry remained staring at the barrister before turning to Jennifer. Still stiffly formal he said, ‘So you wish to retain our services?’

‘Yes,’ said Jennifer, although speaking to Hall. Then, briskly, she went on, ‘You will personally go down, for the onsite visit with the authorities?’

‘Yes.’

‘When I am taken from here, to the hospital wing of a prison, will I be allowed to wear my own clothes?’

‘Yes,’ guaranteed Hall.

‘The Hampshire visit will have to be arranged, beforehand. I want Anna belle to sort out some clothes for me. Tell her to use her own judgement. I want suits… nightwear and a dressing gown, obviously. Underwear. And toiletries and make-up.’

‘I’ll see it’s arranged,’ promised the barrister.

There was a silence but it was obvious there was something more Jennifer wanted to say.

‘What?’ prompted Hall.

Turning to the doctor, Jennifer said, ‘When will you give medical permission for me to be transferred to a prison hospital?’

Lloyd hesitated. ‘Two or three days. You’re very much better, medically.’

Jennifer ignored the qualification, although it registered. To Hall she said, ‘I’m not convicted. I can have visitors. I want Emily brought here, to this proper hospital to see me. I don’t want her brought into a prison.’

‘I will try to arrange it,’ promised Hall.

Perry strode intentionally fast to their assessment from the psychiatrist and neurologist, to distance them from the doctor who lingered to speak to a nurse. Perry said, ‘That was totally outrageous! No senior in your chambers will take over this and you know it!’

‘They will, if my uncle decides they should.’

‘And why should he do that?’

‘To keep his part of whatever deal you arranged with Bert Feltham for us to act in the first place. I need your help, Humphrey, not your condescension. And I need you to understand that I’m not stupid.’ Hall stopped at the elevator, turning to face the man. ‘We’ll get on much better if we have that understanding, OK?’

‘It’s an indefensible case,’ protested Perry, unthinkingly.

‘Then whatever you promised Sir Richard must be mega,’ said Hall.