Part 22 (1/2)

”Go away.” Andy started to shut the door, but Shaun put a hand on it.

”Hey, man, come on. We're sorry about what happened in town. We've come to make amends. Let us in.”

”Besides,” put in Joe, ”we know you don't have anything better to do.”

No, thought Andy. He didn't.

The steps next door were empty. Nothing was what he'd thought. No one was what they seemed. And he didn't have anything to do at all.

He opened the door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

What really struck me as I was looking for accounts and images of the fire is the extent to which it was and continues to be seen as a spectacle, comparable with all the palace's previous performances.

- Shaun Francis's chambers was a venerable establishment in the Middle Temple-meaning the offices were old, cramped, and filled to the gills with too much stuff and a very harried staff.

The head clerk answered Melody's questions politely, as did the barristers to whom he introduced her, but the first thing they all wanted to know after expressing polite dismay over Shaun Francis's death was when Amanda was coming back.

Her impression was that Amanda Francis was the glue that held the chambers together, and that her brother had been at best an afterthought, at worst a nuisance.

When she was shown into the office of the head of chambers, he was quick enough to confirm her suspicions.

”It's Spencer, Edmund, like the poet,” he said, rising to shake her hand. ”Except with an undistinguished c.”

He was past middle age, bald, short, with a stomach that strained the b.u.t.tons of his chalk-striped waistcoat, and he had a voice that Melody thought would either sear righteous fire into jurors' souls or reduce them to puddles of treacly sentiment, depending on his intent. She hoped that if she ever met him in court, he would be representing the prosecution.

”We are most shocked at this news about Shaun,” he went on as he gestured her into a chair. ”A tragic loss. So young, such promise.” When Melody merely raised a quizzical brow, he sighed. ”Well, perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration. You'll find out, I think, that Shaun Francis was not particularly well liked in the chambers. But we are certainly distressed and saddened by his death.”

”Had Shaun been with you long?” Melody asked, feeling that they'd got on a more useful footing.

”Less than a year. To be honest, we took him on at Amanda's request. She began here as a trainee legal secretary ten years ago, and we are all utterly dependent on her.”

”And Shaun? Were you satisfied with his performance?”

Spencer tapped a silver fountain pen on his cluttered desk for a moment before he answered. ”His record in trials had not been stellar, I admit. We were, in fact, in a bit of a pickle.” He looked up at her with very sharp blue eyes that crinkled at the corners. ”But not one that anyone here would have b.u.mped him off to resolve.”

”Did he make things difficult for Amanda in chambers?”

”It was hard for her, yes, when he didn't prepare properly for a case. I think she felt it reflected on her.”

”And if it had come to the point where you had to tell Shaun that other accommodations might better suit him, would Amanda have gone, too?”

”That I can't say.”

”But you're very relieved not to have to find out.”

”That, Detective Sergeant,” said Spencer, ”is not against the law.” Although delivered with a smile, it was a dismissal, but one Melody was not quite ready to accept.

”Mr. Spencer, do you know if Shaun knew a barrister called Vincent Arnott?” She mentioned Arnott's chambers, which were in the nearby Inner Temple.

”He might have done. It's a fairly small world, you know.” His gesture seemed to encompa.s.s the Inns of Court. ”Vincent and I had been opposing counsels a number of times over the years, and of course you see one another in the pubs and wine bars.”

”So you knew Arnott was dead?”

”One could hardly have missed the speculation in the newspapers. And no, I'm not going to ask you if it's true,” he added, obviously having seen Melody begin to form a denial. ”I know you're not at liberty to say, and I'm not at all sure I want to know.”

”Did you consider Arnott a friend?”

Spencer deliberated, and Melody doubted he ever answered anything of importance without first weighing the pros and cons. ”I wouldn't say that Vincent had friends,” he answered after a moment. ”He could be a tough adversary in court-admirable, of course-but he was inclined to take things beyond the courtroom.”

”How do you mean?” asked Melody.

”Oh, surely you see that in your work as well, Sergeant. He carried his cases with him on a personal level, whether he was defending or prosecuting. And more than that, if he was bested in the courtroom, he didn't forgive it.”

From what Melody had learned about Vincent Arnott's private life, she didn't find this surprising. ”But you don't know that he had any direct connection with Shaun Francis?”

”No. You can, of course, ask the clerk to look through our files, but if Shaun had opposed Arnott in court, I'm sure Amanda would have known it.” Spencer's sharp blue eyes appraised her. ”But you can't be thinking that Arnott had anything to do with Shaun's death, as Arnott was already dead. And if Shaun had something to do with Arnott's, then who would have killed him?”

If it had been the other way round, thought Melody as she left the chambers and wound her way through the narrow alleys leading into Fleet Street, they could have made a tidy case of it. If Shaun had been killed first, Amanda Francis could have picked up Arnott in the White Stag and killed him as revenge for her brother's murder. But then why would Arnott have killed Shaun, in this hypothetical scenario? So far, they'd found no connection between Vincent Arnott and Shaun Francis. And Melody knew she was just confusing herself with idle speculation, trying to distract herself from the constant nagging worry about Andy.

She'd spent the past twenty-four hours wondering if she had done the best or the worst thing in her life. And last night, alone in her flat, she'd sat huddled on the sofa with her finger hovering over the keypad on her phone, debating whether to call or text Andy or Doug.

In the end she had done neither. She didn't know what she could say to Andy that would make things any better between them, and contacting him would have meant disobeying a direct order from Gemma.

As for Doug, she didn't think that either Gemma or Duncan (she had no doubt that Gemma would tell Duncan) would say anything to Doug about her spending the night with Andy, but she also had no doubt that sooner or later Doug would find out. She needed to talk to him before that happened, but not over the phone.

She had, however, finally managed to contact Nick, the ba.s.s player in Andy's band, and he'd agreed to meet her at lunchtime at a pub near the Royal Courts of Justice.

The Seven Stars in Carey Street was tiny and eccentric, and Melody had suggested it as neutral ground when Nick told her he'd be studying that morning at King's College Library. It had rained while she was in Shaun's chambers, and as she walked, the pavement glistened under a still-threatening sky.

The pub was jammed when she reached it, but shoving her way inside, she saw Nick, thin and dark, at a corner table. He'd put a stack of books on the chair beside him and was looking round worriedly. She recognized him from the CCTV footage of the band loading up outside the White Stag in Crystal Palace, but realized he had no idea what she looked like.

When she'd elbowed her way through the crush, he looked up and, putting a defensive hand on the books, said, ”This one's taken.”

”Nick? I'm Melody Talbot.”

She'd dressed for the interview at the Inns of Court, in a suit and her best red wool coat, and from Nick's surprised expression she thought he'd expected a trench coat and a badge. Maybe she should take a page from Maura Bell's book.

”Oh, sorry.” Hastily, he moved the books and squeezed them precariously onto the tiny table beside an almost empty half-pint of lager. ”You're not-I didn't-”

”Can I get you another?” she asked.

”Oh-” He glanced at his watch. ”No, I'd better not. I've got a cla.s.s. Accounting's dull enough as it is. I'd never stay awake.”