A Perfect Obsession (32 page)

Camilla carried on reading. ‘
“Gideon Smallwood, Principal Private Secretary to Tony Gear, the Minister
for
Artistic and Cultural Development, was a flamboyant figure in Whitehall circles—”
’

‘Let me see that!’ Leo grabbed the paper from her as the lift doors opened. He stood outside the courtroom, scanning the page for the story. Dear God … Gideon. He read it through quickly. Found in a flat in Ealing … What a squalid way to go, thought Leo. His emotions at the news of Gideon’s death were mixed. On the one hand he was deeply sorry that a man of such charm, with a mind more brilliant than most, and an infinite capacity to amuse, had become so devious, so ruthlessly and criminally exploitative, and had died such a foolish death. He felt a touch of sadness as he remembered Gideon, the gilded youth of twenty, sitting for endless hours at the bridge table. Yet, Leo was also conscious of immense relief at the knowledge that he had nothing more to fear from him. He glanced at the small photograph of Gideon. It didn’t show him at his best. Gideon wouldn’t have liked it.

He handed the paper back to Camilla. ‘Come on. We’re going to be late.’

Camilla glanced at him curiously. ‘Did you know him?’

‘Yes. Slightly.’

Camilla looked away, said nothing, and just as Leo was trying to read her thoughts, an awful realisation came to him, like a cold blow to the solar plexus. The cheque he had sent to the flat where Gideon had died. Oh, Christ … What would anyone make of that when it was found? He could not in that instant formulate the nature of the scandal that might ensue, but a hundred thousand pounds paid by a prominent QC to a homosexual blackmailer …

He and Camilla went into their respective robing rooms adjacent to the court. Leo took off his tie and slipped on his gown, thinking feverishly. He had put the envelope into the post tray yesterday evening, he recalled. It would go this morning. He must ring chambers. Never had his hands fumbled over his wretched bands as they did now. He pulled his mobile phone from the pocket of his jacket and rang the number of the clerks’ room. Robert answered.

‘Robert, listen, has the post tray been emptied this morning?’

‘Hold on a minute, sir, let me have a look …’ The longest six seconds in the world elapsed, and then, before Robert could come back on the line, Leo’s phone gave a little beep and went dead. The battery had gone. Leo had failed to recharge it the night before. He swore and thrust it back into his pocket. There was no time now to borrow anyone else’s phone. He would have to go into court. Olby would be arriving any minute.

Leo slid into his seat next to Camilla just as the usher declared ‘Court rise!’ Mr Justice Olby trotted in, as he had done every day for the last sixty-four days, and the final couple of hours of the Lloyd’s litigation got underway. As he glanced at the clock, Leo remembered the book which Fred Fenton had opened among all the lawyers on when the case would end, to the exact hour and minute. There had been some argument as to whether they would time it by their watches, or by the court clock, which was fast. Eventually they had agreed to go by the time which appeared on the court stenographer’s transcript. Leo, when he had made his guess of twelve-twenty and put in his money, had had
no idea he would find himself earnestly praying that Fred Fenton, who had made the earliest estimate at eleven-thirty, might win.

As the clock ticked towards twelve-fifteen, Conor Grimley was still wringing the final drops from some drearily confused issue concerning the relationship of various litigants-in-person. ‘My Lord, the point I make, and obviously my learned friend has not taken it, is that unless and until there is evidence saying that Mrs Aldous is Mr Denman’s sister, which I know not one way or the other, there is no evidence before your Lordship giving your Lordship that information …’

Come on, please, thought Leo. While Conor bumbled on, Robert could be emptying the post tray, consigning that letter to its fatal destination. Perhaps it had already gone …

Mr Justice Olby, however, was as anxious to conclude the proceedings as anyone else, as he had already arranged to be at Ascot that afternoon. He looked up wearily as Conor drifted to a halt.

‘Mr Grimley, is that all you have to say on that matter?’

‘My Lord, yes …’

‘Right. Anybody want to say anything else?’ No one stirred. Mr Justice Olby dived briskly into his closing address. ‘This has been a long and difficult case. I express my gratitude to the teams who have worked tirelessly on the case for their support and assistance, to leading and junior counsel on both sides for their comprehensive presentations and submissions, to the stenographers for the efficient production of the transcript, and to the court staff and my clerk, who have had to put up with long hours. I
direct that further communication with the Court must be through solicitors. No letter should be sent to me direct by a litigating or non-litigating Name. I will aim to deliver judgment by about the last week of October or the first week of November.’ As the transcript time of twelve twenty-one showed on every laptop throughout the courtroom, Mr Justice Olby rose.

Camilla, putting her papers together for the last time, was about to say something to Leo when he asked, ‘Have you got your mobile?’ Aware from the tone of his voice that it was urgent, she took her phone from her bag and switched it on, and handed it to Leo without a word. Leo went quickly out to the robing room and rang chambers again.

‘Robert? My battery went dead earlier. Has the post gone?’

‘No, sir,’ replied Robert. ‘Well, it would have gone half an hour ago, but from the way you sounded earlier I guessed there was something you wanted held back.’

God bless that boy, thought Leo, for his perspicacity and intelligence. ‘Well done, absolutely right,’ said Leo. ‘There’s a letter in there, my handwriting, with an Ealing address on it.’

After a couple of seconds, Robert said, ‘Yeah, got it, Mr Davies. A Mr Smallwood, Dresden Road?’

Leo closed his eyes in relief. ‘That’s the one. Hold on to it for me till I get back. The rest can go.’

‘Right you are, sir.’

Leo switched off the phone. He sat there in the robing room, feeling drained. Paul Rollason came in, tugging off
his bands. Well done,’ he said. ‘The transcript time came in at twelve twenty-one.’

‘Did it?’ said Leo. ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’

As they waited to cross at the traffic lights, Leo noticed that Camilla looked preoccupied. ‘What’s up with you?’ he asked.

‘How well did you know that man, the one who was found dead yesterday?’

‘I told you. Hardly at all. He was one of the Names. He and his mother.’ Poor Lady Henrietta; Gideon had been the light of her life. ‘He never came to court, though, so you wouldn’t have met him.’

‘Good. He sounded a pretty dreadful person.’ They turned through the gate into Middle Temple Lane. ‘I didn’t like to think there were more awful things you hadn’t told me.’

Leo felt suddenly weary. He shrugged. ‘Maybe there’s no end to them.’ He stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to chambers. ‘If you feel it’s all too much, that you really can’t live with someone like me, I will understand.’

Camilla said nothing. At that moment Robert came out, on his way to lunch.

‘Oh, Mr Davies, that letter you wanted kept back – it’s on my desk in the clerks’ room.’

‘Thanks.’ Leo turned to Camilla. ‘Don’t wait for me – I want to talk to Robert about a couple of things.’

Camilla went into chambers, thinking about what Leo had just said. She picked up her post from her pigeonhole in the clerks’ room and, passing Robert’s desk on the way
out, she glanced down and saw the letter which Robert had mentioned to Leo a moment earlier. There on the envelope, in Leo’s distinctive handwriting, was Gideon Smallwood’s name, and his Ealing address. The address of the flat in which he had been found dead. She stared at it, realising in those seconds how easily Leo had lied to her.

For five minutes, Leo and Robert stood outside chambers discussing bookshelf sizes. When they had finished, and Leo was about to go, Robert added, ‘By the way, that’s a shame about Mr Cross.’

Leo looked back at him quickly. ‘What about him?’

‘Apparently, he’s leaving.’ Seeing Leo’s expression, he added hastily. ‘Sorry – I thought you knew.’

‘No. No, I didn’t.’

Leo went slowly up the steps and stood on the threshold. He could hardly imagine life in chambers without Anthony, without the daily sight of the boy, his smile, the sound of his voice. This was the damage he had done. By trying to play down Anthony’s significance in his life, abusing and betraying his trust and affection, he had driven him to the point where he wanted to get away, never to have to see Leo again. Anthony’s love, which he had taken for granted and squandered, was his no longer. What, wondered Leo, was the point of trying to give new direction to his life, in the face of that simple truth?

For several moments Leo stood motionless in the sunlight, working through his thoughts and emotions. He could not, would not let the worst crisis in their relationship pass without trying to undo the damage. He
knew in his heart that the last thing Anthony wanted was to leave 5 Caper Court, to take his practice to another set of chambers. Whatever it took, he must try to dissuade him, to heal the injuries he had inflicted – if such a thing was possible. He simply knew that he could not bear the idea of Anthony leaving.

He turned and went into chambers. Camilla was coming out of the clerks’ room, but Leo scarcely gave her a glance as he headed upstairs to Anthony’s room.

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C
ARO
F
RASER
is the daughter of George MacDonald Fraser, author of the Flashman novels. She attended art school and worked as an advertising copywriter before deciding to pursue a career in law. Fraser began to write full-time while bringing up the third of her four children, and published her first novel,
The Pupil,
in 1993. Since then she has written several novels, including the critically acclaimed Caper Court series. She is currently a full-time shipping lawyer and lives in London.

T
HE
C
APER
C
OURT SERIES

LOOK OUT FOR THE NEXT BOOK IN THE CAPER COURT SERIES …

Having escaped from yet another scandal, libidinous lawyer Leo Davies has at last decided to settle down. He’s going to sell his Belgravia pad and buy a family home for his son, Oliver, and he’s set on marrying the lovely Camilla.

But when Camilla gets stuck working on a case halfway across the world and the gorgeous Adriana - sexy, wealthy owner of a multi-million pound Greek shipping line - hires Leo as QC on her case, Leo finds that he’s tempted to stray. Worse still, Adriana is as insatiable as Leo - and she always gets what she wants. has Leo finally met his match? And can a heart ever be calculating without being cruel?