Disclaimer: All characters within belong to either Shed Productions or the BBc. I am merely treating them better than they have.
A/N: This story is co-written with Richard. If you want to know who's written what, go to my profile page which will tell you. I am re-uploading the story,
because for some bizarre reason, this site chose to muddle all my chapters out of order.
A Question Of guilt
Part One
On Monday the twelfth of January 2004, exactly three months since the discovery of James Fenner's body in the middle of Epping Forest, Lauren Atkins received two visitors. They wore plain clothes, and announced themselves as Detective Inspector Sullivan and Detective Sergeant Greer. Lauren was alone when they arrived, and but for the presence of a self-important Trigger, they would have bundled her in to their unmarked police car without a moment's notice. But not even DI Sullivan was prepared to sacrifice his shirtsleeve to the jaws of an Alsatian. Before opening the door, Lauren had taken a good look at the two of them, not recognising either individual, but knowing with the sixth sense of an Atkins that they were members of the law. She'd known this day would come, but as the last three months had melted in to one another and Christmas had been and gone, she'd begun to think that she'd just about got away with it. But that had been foolish. Not even Charlie Atkins had managed to wriggle out of his misdemeanours thoroughly unscathed, so why should she. Finally deciding that she couldn't put it off any longer, she opened the door.
"Lauren Atkins?" Said the man, clearly looking down his nose at her. "Who's asking?" Said Lauren, slipping in to Atkins jargon without a thought. "Detective Inspector Sullivan, and this is Detective Sergeant Greer. Can we come in?" "Sure," Lauren said lightly. "But I can't guarantee your safety with my dog. He's been known to have policemen for dinner." "Are you threatening me, Miss?" Sullivan asked quietly. "Of course not, Inspector," Replied Lauren, giving him as much disdain as he was giving her. "I'm just giving you a warning. Try any sudden movements and he'll have no choice but to protect me." Once she'd led them in to the lounge, Trigger lived up to her description of him by sitting resolutely in front of her, not taking his eyes off the two strangers for a moment. "So, Inspector," Lauren began, "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" "Unexpected is it?" Queried Sullivan. "I'd have thought our visit was long overdue." "The law never get anywhere in this house by talking in riddles," Said Lauren mildly, but letting him know she wouldn't be taking any of his crap. "Oh, is that right," Drawled Sullivan, knowing he had the upper hand this time and willing to let her think she had, but only for so long. "You must have had, the law as you put it, through this house on a number of occasions." "You can say that again," Said Lauren, "And they never seem to learn how to tidy up after themselves." "What is it now," Mused Sullivan. "Three out of four of your family have been to prison. Isn't that right?" Lauren glared at him stonily. "And what if it is?" "Well, judging by the evidence I was looking at this morning," Replied Sullivan genially, "You'll soon have to revise that total to all four." Sensing Lauren's combined fear and loathing, Trigger let out a low growl, the hackles standing in a stripe along his back. "Explain," Said Lauren, cutting to the chase and laying a reassuring hand on Trigger's head. "Does the name James Fenner mean anything to you?" "Of course it does," Said Lauren, knowing that she wouldn't be able to keep all recognition of that name out of her face. "Wasn't he the bloke who was found dead last October. He used to work at Larkhall, on the wing where mum was for a time." "That isn't all you know about him, is it." "Why, what else should I know about him?" "Given that you killed him," Put in Greer, "I should say you know an awful lot about him." "She actually speaks," Said Lauren in fake astonishment. "And I thought she was just your spare part," She said, glancing in Greer's direction. "Now you listen dear," Sullivan cut in, all the nicety gone from his tone. "Don't get lippy with me, or I promise it'll only get harder for you. Now, I think it's about time you accompanied us back to the station, don't you?" Thinking that Trigger might just spring on this couple of mouthpieces of the justice system at any minute, Lauren laid a restraining hand on his collar. "Seeing as I don't know what the hell you're talking about, inspector, I see no reason for me to accompany you," Lauren replied, almost spitting out his title. "Oh, I think you know exactly what we're talking about," Said Sullivan silkily. "So, let go of that very well-trained member of the militia and let us drive you in true justice style to the police station." Realising that she had absolutely no choice but to go with them, Lauren said, "Fine, but you'll have to wait while I make a couple of phone calls." "You'll be allowed one call when you get to the station," Put in Greer. "If you want co-operation and to leave this house with all your limbs in tact," Replied Lauren with a little nod in Trigger's direction. "Then you'll kindly wait while I inform my mother as to where you're taking me. Is that too much to ask?" "Where is this famous mother of yours?" Asked Sullivan, remembering the time nearly three years ago when he'd interviewed the legendary Yvonne Atkins about the death of Renee Williams. "She's in Spain," Lauren said curtly, moving towards the phone. "Then you can definitely call her from here," Said Sullivan in disgust. "The commissioner would have my head on a platter if I allowed you to phone Spain from the police station."
When Lauren got through to her mother, Yvonne was lying on a sun lounger and sipping from a glass of chilled white wine. Christmas hadn't been much fun for either her or Lauren, both in their own ways missing Ritchie, and both worrying about what must surely be on the horizon for Lauren. So in early January, Yvonne had said to hell with everything and pushed off to their villa in Spain. They'd all come together over Christmas, Yvonne, Lauren, Cassie, Roisin and the children, and even Karen once she'd finished covering for two officers on G wing who had mysteriously gone off sick at the last moment. But Karen had admitted to liking being part of G wing over Christmas. She'd said that for some of the time it felt like she was the head of an enormous family. Yvonne couldn't fault how Karen had been towards her over the last couple of months. She knew it'd been hard for Karen to get her head round what both Yvonne and Lauren had done on the day of Fenner's death, but then maybe that was because she didn't really know the half of it. But Yvonne wasn't going to be the one to tell her all the details. Hopefully she would never have to know them, but Yvonne knew that this was as false as any of her hopes concerning either of her children. So, when Lauren's call came through on the cordless on the table next to her lounger, Yvonne could only say afterwards that it had been a matter of time, nothing more, nothing less.
"Mum, it's me," Said Lauren, and Yvonne could hear the tension thrumming down the wire. "Lauren, what's happened?" "I just thought you ought to know that the law has arrived, complete with sidekick," She said, with a sneer in Greer's direction. "And they want me to accompany them to the station. They seem to have this ridiculous idea in their heads that I killed Fenner. I can't think where they got that from." "Just get on with it, Atkins," Sullivan cut in with a low rumble. "All right, sweet heart," Said Yvonne, trying to give her daughter a feeling of safety and security, no matter how futile the gesture might be. "I'll get on the next plane and be back there tonight. Whatever you do, don't say a word. The less you say, the less they can hold over you later." "But mum, what about Trigger," Said Lauren, "I can't just leave him." Yvonne knew that this was her daughter's way of asking who she should tell about this who was far closer than she was. "Karen's got a key," Said Yvonne decisively. "Give her a call, ask her to come over and collect Trigger, and tell her I'll be back tonight. If they insist on questioning you, take whatever solicitor they offer you until I get back." Once she'd ended the call, Yvonne ran round the villa, pulling on clothes, putting things away and generally locking up. Then, for the moment saying goodbye to her little haven in the sun, she got in the car she'd hired a week ago, and drove hell for leather to the airport, praying that she could grab a last minute seat on the next flight to London.
A few hours later, Lauren had just about had her fill of bastard police officers and totally incompetent solicitors. She'd taken her mother's advice to the letter and even when she'd been presented with an empty cartridge case, Charlie's gun and the spade, supposedly bearing her fingerprints which Sullivan said had been retrieved in a bin liner from the bottom of the Thames, she said absolutely nothing. Sullivan had become more and more frustrated with her as the time dragged on, but eventually, seeing that he wasn't going to get anything out of her, even with the presence of the duty solicitor, he decided that enough was enough. "You know we've got you over a barrel this time, Atkins," He finally said. "And you're not going to wriggle out of this one in a hurry. We've got your prints on the spade that was used to bury him. Don't you think it's about time you started talking." "It'll never be time for me to start talking to you, Inspector," Was Lauren's emphatic reply. "I've got absolutely nothing to say." "Fine," Said Sullivan decisively. "Lauren Atkins, I am charging you with the murder of Principal Officer James Fenner, on or about the fifth of October 2003. You do have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence. Put her in a cell," He said to Greer, with all the satisfaction of a snake, which has finally cornered the prey it has been seeking for years.
Yvonne made it in to Heathrow airport at around nine that evening. Every time her passport was looked at, she got the stare that always accompanied the suspicious immigration and customs officials on discovering someone had a criminal record. But this didn't bother Yvonne. She'd done the crime, she'd done her time, and if the bastards were curious, that was their problem. They always gave her the once over with the scanner and x-ray machine, looking for any concealable metallic objects, and her suit case never quite looked the same after their hands had been well and truly through her belongings. Having finally battled her way through customs, she dug the mobile out of her handbag and called Karen. "I wondered when I'd be hearing from you," Came Karen's greeting. "Did Lauren call you?" "Yes, she did," Came Karen's calm but slightly sombre reply. "She called me from home about lunchtime, just before they took her to the station, and she called me from there about half an hour ago. They're keeping her there over night. Trigger's here with me. Where are you?" "Walking through terminal one. Could you come and pick me up?" "Of course. Give me half an hour." Not wanting any more of the suffocatingly unnatural conditioned air of terminal one, Yvonne pushed the trolley containing her suit case and a couple of pieces of hand luggage outside to have a cigarette and wait for Karen.
When the green MG sports car drew up not far away from her, Yvonne felt such a wave of relief on seeing Karen. She didn't know why, but she always seemed to feel that everything would be all right if Karen was there. Considering everything that had gone on over the last few months, she knew this was ridiculous, but nothing accounted for human feelings. Karen got out of the car and moved towards her. "How are you?" She said, kissing Yvonne on the cheek. "I spent most of the flight trying to work out how I'm going to get her out of this mess," Said Yvonne, as they put her things in the boot. "It's not going to be quite that simple, Yvonne," Said Karen, remembering for the hundredth time since she'd received Lauren's first phone call, just what she'd done in giving away Lauren's secret in the first place, and more importantly, if Yvonne would ever find out it was her who'd done it. "I know," Said Yvonne, as they got in the car and Karen switched on the engine, "And there was only one sensible conclusion I could come up with." "Which was?" Karen couldn't help asking in slight trepidation at the Atkins methods of solving a problem and just hoping Yvonne wasn't about to try anything stupid. "The only person who's got a cat in hell's chance of getting her off," Said Yvonne matter-of-factly, "Is Jo Mills." Karen allowed a few moments to pass whilst she marshaled her thoughts, using the pulling out of the airport carpark as an excuse to stay quiet. "You could do worse," She said eventually. "More like I couldn't do better," Said Yvonne decisively. "She don't leave any stone unturned, that one." Karen couldn't fault the little touch of irony that rose up in her at Yvonne's affirmation. But would Jo do it, knowing that she had known of Lauren's guilt since mid October. "So, what did Lauren say to you when you last spoke to her?" Yvonne asked, unaware of Karen's inner turmoil. Dragging herself away from her thoughts, Karen said, "They've formally charged her, and she'll be taken to a magistrate's court in the morning, where I'm assuming she'll plead not guilty. As it's murder they've charged her with, there's absolutely no doubt that she'll be remanded in custody until her trial." "That ain't just because it's murder," Said Yvonne with all the experience of such things. "It's mostly because she's an Atkins." "Yeah, well, you might have something there," Replied Karen. "Did Lauren tell you who it was who came to pick her up? The two who investigated Renee Williams' death." "Not that oily little wanker?" Said Yvonne in disgust. "The very same," Said Karen, briefly smiling at Yvonne's description of him. "But he's been itching to find something on me since he couldn't pin Renee Williams' death on me all that time ago. He must have some serious evidence if he's actually charged her." "Reading between the lines, I think he has," Said Karen. "Lauren sounded like all the stuffing had been knocked out of her. Oh, not literally," She said, seeing the look of fury on Yvonne's face. "She just sounded like it was much harder than she'd expected." "Do you think she'll get sent to Larkhall?" "Probably," Said Karen regretfully. "Apart from Holloway, it's the only other women's prison in the area, and Holloway's so overcrowded ever since they built their new drugs treatment and detox unit." "Is there any chance you can get her put on G wing?" Said Yvonne quietly, well aware that she was asking far more than she should of Karen. "I'll see what I can do," Said Karen gently. "But I can't make any promises." "It's just, I know you'll look after her," Yvonne said, sudden tears rising to her eyes. "Hey," Said Karen, taking one hand off the wheel and putting it over one of Yvonne's. "Whatever happens, you'll get through it, both of you." When they drew up in Yvonne's driveway, Karen let Trigger out of the car and watched as he virtually threw himself at Yvonne. "Hey, hey, down boy," Yvonne said with pleasure. "He's been fretting about you all afternoon," Said Karen with a smile. "God, I forgot," Said Yvonne suddenly. "How did you get away with not being at work?" "It's not the first time I've worked from home," Said Karen as she opened the boot to get Yvonne's things out. "Grayling just sees it as one of my eccentricities."
At nine the next morning, Yvonne watched as her daughter was led bleary eyed in to court. "Lauren Atkins," Read the clerk. "You are charged that on or about the fifth of October 2003 you unlawfully killed James Fenner. How do you plead?" "Not guilty," Came Lauren's voice, no longer filled with the strident confidence Yvonne was used to. "I have no choice but to remand you in custody until your trial," Said the magistrate. "You will be transported to Her Majesty's Prison Larkhall. Take her down."
A/N: This story is co-written with Richard. If you want to know who's written what, go to my profile page which will tell you. I am re-uploading the story,
because for some bizarre reason, this site chose to muddle all my chapters out of order.
A Question Of guilt
Part One
On Monday the twelfth of January 2004, exactly three months since the discovery of James Fenner's body in the middle of Epping Forest, Lauren Atkins received two visitors. They wore plain clothes, and announced themselves as Detective Inspector Sullivan and Detective Sergeant Greer. Lauren was alone when they arrived, and but for the presence of a self-important Trigger, they would have bundled her in to their unmarked police car without a moment's notice. But not even DI Sullivan was prepared to sacrifice his shirtsleeve to the jaws of an Alsatian. Before opening the door, Lauren had taken a good look at the two of them, not recognising either individual, but knowing with the sixth sense of an Atkins that they were members of the law. She'd known this day would come, but as the last three months had melted in to one another and Christmas had been and gone, she'd begun to think that she'd just about got away with it. But that had been foolish. Not even Charlie Atkins had managed to wriggle out of his misdemeanours thoroughly unscathed, so why should she. Finally deciding that she couldn't put it off any longer, she opened the door.
"Lauren Atkins?" Said the man, clearly looking down his nose at her. "Who's asking?" Said Lauren, slipping in to Atkins jargon without a thought. "Detective Inspector Sullivan, and this is Detective Sergeant Greer. Can we come in?" "Sure," Lauren said lightly. "But I can't guarantee your safety with my dog. He's been known to have policemen for dinner." "Are you threatening me, Miss?" Sullivan asked quietly. "Of course not, Inspector," Replied Lauren, giving him as much disdain as he was giving her. "I'm just giving you a warning. Try any sudden movements and he'll have no choice but to protect me." Once she'd led them in to the lounge, Trigger lived up to her description of him by sitting resolutely in front of her, not taking his eyes off the two strangers for a moment. "So, Inspector," Lauren began, "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" "Unexpected is it?" Queried Sullivan. "I'd have thought our visit was long overdue." "The law never get anywhere in this house by talking in riddles," Said Lauren mildly, but letting him know she wouldn't be taking any of his crap. "Oh, is that right," Drawled Sullivan, knowing he had the upper hand this time and willing to let her think she had, but only for so long. "You must have had, the law as you put it, through this house on a number of occasions." "You can say that again," Said Lauren, "And they never seem to learn how to tidy up after themselves." "What is it now," Mused Sullivan. "Three out of four of your family have been to prison. Isn't that right?" Lauren glared at him stonily. "And what if it is?" "Well, judging by the evidence I was looking at this morning," Replied Sullivan genially, "You'll soon have to revise that total to all four." Sensing Lauren's combined fear and loathing, Trigger let out a low growl, the hackles standing in a stripe along his back. "Explain," Said Lauren, cutting to the chase and laying a reassuring hand on Trigger's head. "Does the name James Fenner mean anything to you?" "Of course it does," Said Lauren, knowing that she wouldn't be able to keep all recognition of that name out of her face. "Wasn't he the bloke who was found dead last October. He used to work at Larkhall, on the wing where mum was for a time." "That isn't all you know about him, is it." "Why, what else should I know about him?" "Given that you killed him," Put in Greer, "I should say you know an awful lot about him." "She actually speaks," Said Lauren in fake astonishment. "And I thought she was just your spare part," She said, glancing in Greer's direction. "Now you listen dear," Sullivan cut in, all the nicety gone from his tone. "Don't get lippy with me, or I promise it'll only get harder for you. Now, I think it's about time you accompanied us back to the station, don't you?" Thinking that Trigger might just spring on this couple of mouthpieces of the justice system at any minute, Lauren laid a restraining hand on his collar. "Seeing as I don't know what the hell you're talking about, inspector, I see no reason for me to accompany you," Lauren replied, almost spitting out his title. "Oh, I think you know exactly what we're talking about," Said Sullivan silkily. "So, let go of that very well-trained member of the militia and let us drive you in true justice style to the police station." Realising that she had absolutely no choice but to go with them, Lauren said, "Fine, but you'll have to wait while I make a couple of phone calls." "You'll be allowed one call when you get to the station," Put in Greer. "If you want co-operation and to leave this house with all your limbs in tact," Replied Lauren with a little nod in Trigger's direction. "Then you'll kindly wait while I inform my mother as to where you're taking me. Is that too much to ask?" "Where is this famous mother of yours?" Asked Sullivan, remembering the time nearly three years ago when he'd interviewed the legendary Yvonne Atkins about the death of Renee Williams. "She's in Spain," Lauren said curtly, moving towards the phone. "Then you can definitely call her from here," Said Sullivan in disgust. "The commissioner would have my head on a platter if I allowed you to phone Spain from the police station."
When Lauren got through to her mother, Yvonne was lying on a sun lounger and sipping from a glass of chilled white wine. Christmas hadn't been much fun for either her or Lauren, both in their own ways missing Ritchie, and both worrying about what must surely be on the horizon for Lauren. So in early January, Yvonne had said to hell with everything and pushed off to their villa in Spain. They'd all come together over Christmas, Yvonne, Lauren, Cassie, Roisin and the children, and even Karen once she'd finished covering for two officers on G wing who had mysteriously gone off sick at the last moment. But Karen had admitted to liking being part of G wing over Christmas. She'd said that for some of the time it felt like she was the head of an enormous family. Yvonne couldn't fault how Karen had been towards her over the last couple of months. She knew it'd been hard for Karen to get her head round what both Yvonne and Lauren had done on the day of Fenner's death, but then maybe that was because she didn't really know the half of it. But Yvonne wasn't going to be the one to tell her all the details. Hopefully she would never have to know them, but Yvonne knew that this was as false as any of her hopes concerning either of her children. So, when Lauren's call came through on the cordless on the table next to her lounger, Yvonne could only say afterwards that it had been a matter of time, nothing more, nothing less.
"Mum, it's me," Said Lauren, and Yvonne could hear the tension thrumming down the wire. "Lauren, what's happened?" "I just thought you ought to know that the law has arrived, complete with sidekick," She said, with a sneer in Greer's direction. "And they want me to accompany them to the station. They seem to have this ridiculous idea in their heads that I killed Fenner. I can't think where they got that from." "Just get on with it, Atkins," Sullivan cut in with a low rumble. "All right, sweet heart," Said Yvonne, trying to give her daughter a feeling of safety and security, no matter how futile the gesture might be. "I'll get on the next plane and be back there tonight. Whatever you do, don't say a word. The less you say, the less they can hold over you later." "But mum, what about Trigger," Said Lauren, "I can't just leave him." Yvonne knew that this was her daughter's way of asking who she should tell about this who was far closer than she was. "Karen's got a key," Said Yvonne decisively. "Give her a call, ask her to come over and collect Trigger, and tell her I'll be back tonight. If they insist on questioning you, take whatever solicitor they offer you until I get back." Once she'd ended the call, Yvonne ran round the villa, pulling on clothes, putting things away and generally locking up. Then, for the moment saying goodbye to her little haven in the sun, she got in the car she'd hired a week ago, and drove hell for leather to the airport, praying that she could grab a last minute seat on the next flight to London.
A few hours later, Lauren had just about had her fill of bastard police officers and totally incompetent solicitors. She'd taken her mother's advice to the letter and even when she'd been presented with an empty cartridge case, Charlie's gun and the spade, supposedly bearing her fingerprints which Sullivan said had been retrieved in a bin liner from the bottom of the Thames, she said absolutely nothing. Sullivan had become more and more frustrated with her as the time dragged on, but eventually, seeing that he wasn't going to get anything out of her, even with the presence of the duty solicitor, he decided that enough was enough. "You know we've got you over a barrel this time, Atkins," He finally said. "And you're not going to wriggle out of this one in a hurry. We've got your prints on the spade that was used to bury him. Don't you think it's about time you started talking." "It'll never be time for me to start talking to you, Inspector," Was Lauren's emphatic reply. "I've got absolutely nothing to say." "Fine," Said Sullivan decisively. "Lauren Atkins, I am charging you with the murder of Principal Officer James Fenner, on or about the fifth of October 2003. You do have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence. Put her in a cell," He said to Greer, with all the satisfaction of a snake, which has finally cornered the prey it has been seeking for years.
Yvonne made it in to Heathrow airport at around nine that evening. Every time her passport was looked at, she got the stare that always accompanied the suspicious immigration and customs officials on discovering someone had a criminal record. But this didn't bother Yvonne. She'd done the crime, she'd done her time, and if the bastards were curious, that was their problem. They always gave her the once over with the scanner and x-ray machine, looking for any concealable metallic objects, and her suit case never quite looked the same after their hands had been well and truly through her belongings. Having finally battled her way through customs, she dug the mobile out of her handbag and called Karen. "I wondered when I'd be hearing from you," Came Karen's greeting. "Did Lauren call you?" "Yes, she did," Came Karen's calm but slightly sombre reply. "She called me from home about lunchtime, just before they took her to the station, and she called me from there about half an hour ago. They're keeping her there over night. Trigger's here with me. Where are you?" "Walking through terminal one. Could you come and pick me up?" "Of course. Give me half an hour." Not wanting any more of the suffocatingly unnatural conditioned air of terminal one, Yvonne pushed the trolley containing her suit case and a couple of pieces of hand luggage outside to have a cigarette and wait for Karen.
When the green MG sports car drew up not far away from her, Yvonne felt such a wave of relief on seeing Karen. She didn't know why, but she always seemed to feel that everything would be all right if Karen was there. Considering everything that had gone on over the last few months, she knew this was ridiculous, but nothing accounted for human feelings. Karen got out of the car and moved towards her. "How are you?" She said, kissing Yvonne on the cheek. "I spent most of the flight trying to work out how I'm going to get her out of this mess," Said Yvonne, as they put her things in the boot. "It's not going to be quite that simple, Yvonne," Said Karen, remembering for the hundredth time since she'd received Lauren's first phone call, just what she'd done in giving away Lauren's secret in the first place, and more importantly, if Yvonne would ever find out it was her who'd done it. "I know," Said Yvonne, as they got in the car and Karen switched on the engine, "And there was only one sensible conclusion I could come up with." "Which was?" Karen couldn't help asking in slight trepidation at the Atkins methods of solving a problem and just hoping Yvonne wasn't about to try anything stupid. "The only person who's got a cat in hell's chance of getting her off," Said Yvonne matter-of-factly, "Is Jo Mills." Karen allowed a few moments to pass whilst she marshaled her thoughts, using the pulling out of the airport carpark as an excuse to stay quiet. "You could do worse," She said eventually. "More like I couldn't do better," Said Yvonne decisively. "She don't leave any stone unturned, that one." Karen couldn't fault the little touch of irony that rose up in her at Yvonne's affirmation. But would Jo do it, knowing that she had known of Lauren's guilt since mid October. "So, what did Lauren say to you when you last spoke to her?" Yvonne asked, unaware of Karen's inner turmoil. Dragging herself away from her thoughts, Karen said, "They've formally charged her, and she'll be taken to a magistrate's court in the morning, where I'm assuming she'll plead not guilty. As it's murder they've charged her with, there's absolutely no doubt that she'll be remanded in custody until her trial." "That ain't just because it's murder," Said Yvonne with all the experience of such things. "It's mostly because she's an Atkins." "Yeah, well, you might have something there," Replied Karen. "Did Lauren tell you who it was who came to pick her up? The two who investigated Renee Williams' death." "Not that oily little wanker?" Said Yvonne in disgust. "The very same," Said Karen, briefly smiling at Yvonne's description of him. "But he's been itching to find something on me since he couldn't pin Renee Williams' death on me all that time ago. He must have some serious evidence if he's actually charged her." "Reading between the lines, I think he has," Said Karen. "Lauren sounded like all the stuffing had been knocked out of her. Oh, not literally," She said, seeing the look of fury on Yvonne's face. "She just sounded like it was much harder than she'd expected." "Do you think she'll get sent to Larkhall?" "Probably," Said Karen regretfully. "Apart from Holloway, it's the only other women's prison in the area, and Holloway's so overcrowded ever since they built their new drugs treatment and detox unit." "Is there any chance you can get her put on G wing?" Said Yvonne quietly, well aware that she was asking far more than she should of Karen. "I'll see what I can do," Said Karen gently. "But I can't make any promises." "It's just, I know you'll look after her," Yvonne said, sudden tears rising to her eyes. "Hey," Said Karen, taking one hand off the wheel and putting it over one of Yvonne's. "Whatever happens, you'll get through it, both of you." When they drew up in Yvonne's driveway, Karen let Trigger out of the car and watched as he virtually threw himself at Yvonne. "Hey, hey, down boy," Yvonne said with pleasure. "He's been fretting about you all afternoon," Said Karen with a smile. "God, I forgot," Said Yvonne suddenly. "How did you get away with not being at work?" "It's not the first time I've worked from home," Said Karen as she opened the boot to get Yvonne's things out. "Grayling just sees it as one of my eccentricities."
At nine the next morning, Yvonne watched as her daughter was led bleary eyed in to court. "Lauren Atkins," Read the clerk. "You are charged that on or about the fifth of October 2003 you unlawfully killed James Fenner. How do you plead?" "Not guilty," Came Lauren's voice, no longer filled with the strident confidence Yvonne was used to. "I have no choice but to remand you in custody until your trial," Said the magistrate. "You will be transported to Her Majesty's Prison Larkhall. Take her down."