Murmuring the Judges

53

Having found a parking space in Market Street, Andy Martin walked up the Mound, and round the great statue of David Hume. . the Jolly Green Giant, as it had become known as soon as it had been erected. . before crossing Parliament Square.

Aware that he was running late, he stopped outside the entrance to the Supreme Courts, on the spot where he had arranged to meet Alex, and checked his watch. It showed 12:40 p.m., ten minutes after their date. Kwame Ankrah was with him. On a whim, he had invited the African to join them, to give him a taste of the Supreme Court atmosphere.

Curious, Andy entered the building with his companion and made his way along to the courtroom where his fiancée’s case was being heard. There was no one in the corridor outside. He peered through the glass panel in the door and saw that the Court was still sitting, with the grim-faced Lord Coalville on the Bench. Out of curiosity he slipped inside and into the public gallery.

Alex was seated in the front row, next to Adrian Jones and his wife. From her body language the detective could tell at once that things had gone to very much worse. He glanced along the row and, even from behind, recognised the man who had appeared in the doorway of Gordon’s Trattoria. Bernard Grimley was grinning at Jones, triumph etched on his face.

Lord Coalville paused in his address, gathering his papers together. Martin focused his attention on him.

‘To sum up,’ said the red-robed judge, with a baleful glance at Jim McAlpine, ‘I find the counter-arguments of the defenders entirely unconvincing and find for the pursuer in the full amount of his claim.’ He nodded to his left, towards McAlpine, Elizabeth Day and Mitch Laidlaw. ‘Costs are awarded against your clients.’

He stood, and the Court rose with him, some more slowly than others. As the door behind the Bench closed on Lord Coalville, the policeman glanced at the senior counsel for the defence and saw a glare of pure hatred.

The silence held for a second or two, then a babble of conversation broke out in the courtroom. Advocates, solicitors and clients stood and mingled, the triumphant hugs and handshakes on the right contrasting with the gloom on the left.

As Andy stepped out of the public benches and moved towards her, Alex turned. Before she noticed him, he saw the anger and frustration written on her face, and realised, to his surprise, that she was not far from tears. ‘I know the feeling, love,’ he whispered as he took her hand.

‘Yes,’ said McAlpine, overhearing. ‘Don’t take it to heart, Alex.Your preparation work was immaculate. What you have to keep in mind is that when a case like this gets this far, someone is going to be disappointed.’ His face hardened again. ‘Mind you, I could still choke the life out of that bastard Coalville.’

‘Will you appeal it?’ Andy asked.

‘I’ll have to consult our clients on that,’ said Mitch Laidlaw, from behind him, ‘but I very much doubt it. The Appeal Court might reduce the amount of the award, but that would probably be offset by the extra costs. My firm has a pretty strong credit balance with the insurers in this type of action. I’m pretty sure they’ll write this one off.’

Martin turned. Adrian Jones was standing beside Laidlaw, grim-faced, his eyes as hard as steel. ‘That’s all very well, Mitchell,’ he hissed, ‘but what about me? What about my career? Are you all simply going to walk away from me?’ The policeman could almost feel the strength of his anger.

‘Look, Adrian,’ Alex’s boss retorted, quietly but firmly. ‘I am very sorry about the personal implications for you and your firm, but I must remind you that you are not my client. Nor has your liability been an issue. That was admitted almost two years ago. What we’ve been quantifying here has been the cost of a cock-up.

‘If you’re worried about your career, maybe you should get out of commercial law. You never know, your old employers might take you back. The same risks don’t apply in that field.’

Jones glared at him. ‘No thank you very much. I think I’ll follow another course of action. Maybe I’ll sue you for negligence.’

For a second, Martin thought that he was going to have to step between the two solicitors, but the intervention, when it came, was from another quarter.

‘I’ve been waiting for a couple of years to say this, Mr Jones,’ boomed Bernard Grimley, in rough Glaswegian tones. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’ve transformed my life.

‘I want you to know that when I’m sitting on the Costa del Sol, there won’t be a day goes by when I don’t raise a sundowner and say out loud, “Thank you, Adrian, for being such a fucking awful lawyer.” I’ll send you my address, when I get set up. Drop in any time you like.’

‘I’d be a little careful, Mr Grimley,’ said Laidlaw. ‘The question of an appeal isn’t quite decided yet.’

‘That doesn’t worry me, pal. This place is a fucking club, and you know it.’ Grimley ran his fingers through his thick dark hair. ‘I’ll see you down the road if I have to.’ He turned on his heel and walked away.

Jim McAlpine, QC, looked at his instructing solicitor. ‘Unpleasant man, Mitch, wouldn’t you say? Unfortunately, he’s right. I can’t see Coalville’s finding being overturned at appeal. These things hinge very much on the judge’s view of the witnesses. That old bastard decided at an early stage that he wasn’t going to like ours.

‘I do wish you’d let me withdraw. Elizabeth, here, could have led perfectly well.’ His junior looked up at him with a smile, but, as usual, said nothing.

‘To hell with it all,’ Laidlaw burst out. ‘Let’s get on with our lives.’ He nodded curtly at Adrian Jones. ‘Goodbye, and good luck. I’m sorry it didn’t work out better. For what it’s worth, if I’d been the judge, I’d only have given him one and a half million.’

He turned his back on Jones and looked at Martin. ‘Andy, when it became clear this was going to wind up, I called my office and told them to lay on a buffet lunch for the team. Would you and your colleague care to join us?’

The detective glanced at his watch once again. ‘Thanks, but I’m afraid I’m stuck for time now,’ he said. ‘Kwame might like it though.’ He introduced the African. ‘This is Mr Ankrah, a senior policeman from Ghana. He’s with us on a fact-finding visit.’

‘Delighted to meet you,’ boomed Laidlaw, sincerely, offering a handshake. ‘Yes, please do come with us. I’d be very interested to learn about your country. My firm has expansion plans, you know.’ He glanced back at Martin. ‘What’s your problem, Andy?’

‘I’m meeting Alex’s dad at the Crown Office at two o’clock.’

‘Serious business, eh?’

‘Isn’t it always?’ Martin replied. He squeezed Alex’s hand. ‘You take Kwame off to your wake, love. I’ll grab a sandwich in the café under St Giles.’

‘Okay,’ she nodded. ‘When will you be in this evening?’

‘I have no idea. This could turn out to be a very long day.’