‘High profile as well as a good earner?’
‘Guaranteed.’
Feltham sighed. ‘So we’ve got a problem.’
‘One that can surely be resolved.’
‘My seniors trust me,’ repeated Feltham. ‘It’s a matter of integrity.’
‘I understand,’ said Perry, who did and saw nothing hypocritical or even odd in Feltham’s remark. ‘What about Jeremy Hall?’
Feltham smiled. ‘You stay on top of things.’
‘We both do,’ said Perry, smiling back. Jeremy Hall was the newest arrival at Sir Richard Proudfoot’s chambers, the first barrister in ten years whose acceptance hadn’t been subject to Feltham’s veto. Hall was Proudfoot’s nephew.
‘He’s under my care.’
‘Aren’t all your people?’
‘Special care.’ Feltham gestured for a second port.
‘At its worst, she’s mad,’ said Perry. ‘She herself is demanding a psychiatric examination so we’ll know soon enough. At its best, it’s a cleverly planned murder. All right, so it’s guilty, whichever. But the money’s guaranteed and if there is another woman he’ll be able to push the spurned wife defence. And she is beautiful, so the publicity to the chambers is as assured as the fee. It wouldn’t hurt just occasionally to be on the side of the underdog, would it?’
‘She cut him to pieces, according to this morning’s papers!’
‘Temporary insanity. All part of the same mitigation.’
‘I’m still not totally happy.’
‘I’m not saying it’s perfect.’
‘How much prelim work would be involved in the copper case?’
‘Two months, minimum.’
‘And the case would run for four?’
‘At least. It’ll be very worthwhile.’
‘I’d have to explain the Lomax brief to Sir Richard.’
‘Of course.’
‘He was very pleased at the way the Hallett thing turned out.’
‘I’ve heard the Lord Chancellor was impressed.’
‘Sir Richard would make a good judge,’ agreed Feltham, smiling in acknowledgement of Perry’s preparation. ‘I’d be sorry to lose him, of course.’
‘Of course,’ agreed Perry. ‘The chamber accepting an obvious guilty plea wouldn’t go against the consideration, would it? The contrary, in fact.’
Feltham smiled again. ‘Good point, well made.’
‘Are we agreed then?’
‘I think so. I’m sorry if I was brusque at the beginning.’
Perry shook his head in dismissal. ‘What’s Hall like?’
‘Young. A little brash. Good pass marks. Not a bad court presence. It’ll improve when I’ve trained him up. Special case, as I said. Father was a Name at Lloyds: family was wiped out by the insurance crash. The old man killed himself. Sir Richard let Hall into the chambers literally as an act of charity: he didn’t have any money to go anywhere else.’
‘Riches to rags?’ smiled the bald-headed man.
‘Something like that,’ said Feltham, unimpressed by the attempted joke. ‘When’s the remand hearing?’
‘This afternoon, at the hospital.’
‘You want him to be there?’
Perry gave another dismissive gesture. ‘It’ll only be a formality.’
‘Properly handled, there will be some mileage in it for the chambers, won’t there?’
‘I’ll look after him,’ promised Perry.
‘It’s been a good lunch. Thank you.’
‘Best of luck with the diet.’
‘Thanks.’ Feltham rose but remained standing at the table. ‘Unwinnable cases are a bastard, aren’t they?’
‘An absolute bastard,’ agreed Perry.
‘All sixteen?’ queried Rodgers.
‘Until I get the name,’ insisted Bentley. ‘The place is a fucking goldfish bowl. Someone will know who he was screwing, like they knew he was popping Jennifer while his first wife was alive.’
‘When do you want to start?’
‘Directly after the magistrate’s hearing. It’ll be up and down, five minutes at the most.’
‘You want me to warn Lomax’s office?’
‘No,’ said Bentley. ‘Let’s surprise them.’
Chapter Six
Jennifer was totally exhausted, eyes sunk into black-ringed hollows, skin so numb it tingled and was sensitive to touch, as if it had been burned. It was a constant effort in the daylight to retain the consciousness she’d wanted so desperately to lose during the night but hadn’t been able to. Because of the drip it hurt to reach up with her right hand and the bandages on her left made it difficult to knuckle the drooping tiredness away even to see around her. The hospital doctor, Peter Lloyd, had refused to give her the stimulant she’d asked for, saying it would counteract the painkillers she was having. He’d done so standing well back from the bed when Jane had made her call the man an awkward bastard. It had been Lloyd, whom she thought looked too young to be a doctor, who’d given her the time of the magistrate’s arrival and she’d tried, before Humphrey Perry came, to tidy herself with a brush and make-up but she couldn’t control the shake any more. Her lipstick had smudged, unevenly, and she’d had to stop where her lip was swollen and split and the liner was a mistake on eyes already too dark. The tears, when she’d cried from frustration as well as grief, had made the mascara run and she hadn’t been able to clean properly the marks from her face and knew she looked dirty and unwashed.
‘She wouldn’t let me sleep. Not at all. She kept on at me all night,’ Jennifer announced, as the solicitor came into her room. She saw one of the two departing policewomen shaking her head.
‘ Do what I like, do what I like! ’
‘It’s all right.’ Perry didn’t think he’d shown any reaction but supposed there must have been something. He felt a twitch of pity, despite what she’d done: mentally sick people weren’t responsible for their actions, however horrifying.
‘It’s not! I look like a mad woman.’
‘ You sure do, honey. ’
Perry didn’t think he would have recognized the gaunt, cadaverous-faced woman lying on the bed in front of him as the svelte, sophisticated person photographed and named as Jennifer Lomax in that morning’s newspapers. If she continued to look like this it would contribute to the only plea it was possible to enter. ‘It’ll only last a few minutes today.’
‘I’ve got to stop her! You’ve got to help me stop her.’
‘ You can’t! Neither can he! ’
‘I will,’ promised Perry, emptily. He’d probably be back in the office in time to call the psychiatrists he’d employed in the past. Mason was good. So was Denning. He’d use both. And anyone else they suggested. Get it over as quickly as possible. Bert Feltham was right: unwinnable cases were a bastard.
‘What have you done already?’ demanded Jennifer. She gripped the edge of the sheet and then covered one hand with the other to stop the trembling. It didn’t.
‘We’re going to use Sir Richard Proudfoot’s chambers. They’re the best.’
‘Is he a QC?’
Perry hesitated, with a choice of reply to a question he hadn’t wanted. ‘Proudfoot is, yes.’
Jennifer caught the qualification. ‘He is going to represent me, isn’t he? Proudfoot himself?’ She felt her eyes closing, despite herself, and stretched her face to keep them open, distorting her features and making her broken lip hurt.
‘His junior, at first. Jeremy Hall,’ avoided the solicitor. Was she consciously pulling faces at him? Fleetingly he wondered if it was safe to have the policewomen out of the ward. There didn’t seem to be anything in the room she could use as a weapon.
‘But it will be Proudfoot, at the trial?’
‘There’s some way to go before we get that far.’
‘ Can’t you see he’s lying, you stupid bitch! ’
Jennifer moved to speak but stopped, trying to assemble the words first, straightening against the pillows. ‘I am not pleading guilty. I am not guilty. And I am not mad. And I want the best, not a junior.’
‘You’ve got the best, believe me.’ It was going to become very tiresome before it was all over. Hall was going to earn the chambers’ copper brief.
‘How old is Jeremy Hall?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How long has be belonged to the chambers?’