Neil Haughton prided himself on his tenaciousness. After all, he duly modelled himself on The Leader. He, in turn had taken a few lessons from a female predecessor, whose iron resolution had mesmerized one part of a generation even as much as the other part had hated her. He also adhered to the party principle of greasing the palms of those to whom he is indebted. That meant Michael Beauchamp. Self-evidently, it did not include the trade union barons. He deplored their connections to his party as an outmoded convention, much though he grudgingly accepted their funding as a tiresome necessity.
On this trial, he was given a fairly free hand on how to manage the forthcoming trial, which was rather unsettling. He had been accustomed to receiving the party line, making it his own and lecturing and hectoring his underlings to spread the word. In this case, the guilt or innocence of just another operative in the NHS was only important in terms of the political fall out. The case didn't have any ramifications except as far as it reflected on the Health Minister's reputation. He was asked to ensure that the prosecution barrister didn't get his bit between his teeth and get too gung ho on the case. A discreet few words with the man might help. He had heard that the man was amenable so he picked up the phone to wheel him in.
Brian Cantwell was just readying himself to sink into an armchair on a Saturday morning with his favourite book when the phone rang. It had that insistent quality and didn't go away so, sighing with exasperation, he picked it up. He hoped that it wasn't his mother in law, wanting him to manfully change a fuse in her electric kettle.
"Good morning, Brian. I would very much appreciate it if you could pop over to my office next to the Houses of Parliament. I have some most important business I want to discuss with you"
"It is a Saturday, you know Neil," Brian Cantwell urged with commendable restraint. The subtleties of that tone of voice went clean past the other man, who was clearly on a mission.
"To a cabinet minister, the job never ends. Service to the country, you know. It is to your advantage as well. You let the security man know who you are and he'll show you right up to me"
Brian Cantwell was on the point of telling the man to get lost, when caution persuaded him otherwise. True, he had no direct connection with the case in hand but he had better hear him out. In his younger days, he had had to shoot over to whatever Godforsaken remote court hearing for the sake of the fee at the end of it. Instinct made him wearily agree.
"Be with you in an hour, Neil"
After fighting his way through the traffic to the destination, he sourly surveyed the airy glass and brick building. It must have spent a pretty penny out of taxpayer's money, he fumed, as he was duly frisked by security and went up the lift to Neil Houghton's airy new office. No more poky cubbyhole in the Houses of Parliament for a rising star.
"Good morning, Neil," Brian Cantwell greeted him with a wan smile, while his sharp eyes were trained on him watchfully. He knew full well that George's relationship with the man was chilly to say the best. He couldn't help wondering what she had ever seen in him. Surely someone as attractive as George would have better taste, he considered tetchily. Then he remembered. The man was a cabinet minister. He had read somewhere that power was an aphrodisiac though for the life of him, he couldn't work out how that could work in practice.
The other man extended his hand in apparent friendliness to him, and Brian Cantwell cynically noted that the man must have had a lot of practice in shaking hands to get to his present position. Returning the compliment, Brian Cantwell went along with the charade. It better be important, he fumed, for his sacred privacy of the weekend to be interrupted. However important the business the matter might be, it could have waited till the Monday.
"It's good of you to come at short notice. The matter is important," the smooth tones rolled out like treacle.
Brian Cantwell looked at the other man with a frozen expression, ignoring the sales talk.
"When Friday night comes, my humble job ends and I revert to being the private citizen. For instance, if I were to walk down the street, what paparazzi would bother to sneak a photograph of me? In your case, the situation is different"
From the expression of incomprehension on Neil Haughton's face, Brian Cantwell decided to cut his losses and get straight to the point.
"So what's the problem, Neil"
"You know why I've asked to see you, Brian. You're the prosecution barrister in the Connie Beauchamp case. You know, the consultant who's supposed to have murdered her patient," Neil Houghton retorted, irritated at being pinned down so early.
"Word travels fast, Neil."
"We keep our ears close to the ground, Brian." Neil Haughton said with a confiding smile. "Between you and me, the word is out that you shouldn't be too hard on her, Brian, that's a good chap. There is some doubt that it is in the public interest to have a relatively senior member of the medical profession be exposed to the tender mercies of the press. It would cause the public to question the worth of the good old NHS which the people know and love"
By the patronizing tone of voice in Neil Haughton's voice, Brian Cantwell judged correctly that this man went strictly private for his healthcare and wasn't greatly concerned personally if the NHS sank or swam.
"The Home Offices has absolutely nothing to do with the bar or the judiciary or so I have always been led to believe. You'll probably know that us barristers are freelancers. We sell our services on the open market. We have to ensure that there's something worth selling. We stand or fall by our professional reputations. If I make a habit of rolling over and dying, who will hire me in future"
"I'm sure that your reputation is rock solid. You are no newcomer after all. We'll see that you're all right"
The man's confiding smile made Brian Cantwell feel uneasy. He didn't like being tied in to a particular position but wanted freedom of manoeuvre. He liked the generally cosy relationship with his fellow barristers outside court, while his combative instincts were let loose within it. While he had an aversion to black people, it didn't stand in the way of taking them on as clients. He was a natural conservative yet he didn't really like to be told what to do by anyone. Life felt comfortable for him and he was bored by John Deed chasing after all sort of trendy causes. At that second, he sensed a trap right in front of him. In a split second, he knew what it was. It was the prospect of ending up being the government's tame barrister and look what happened to George. Besides, the thought of him being a tame anything ran totally contrary to his nature.
"It all depends on the case, Neil. There are no certainties as to the progress of trials. I have taken on some cases and won them when on first impression, the case looked shaky. On the other hand, some of the most cast iron cases have fallen apart for the most unlikely reasons"
Neil Houghton's eyes started to glare at Brian Cantwell who looked perfectly unmoved. He had appeared before judges whose theatrical power was greater than this politician and had survived their fury, even John Deed's. He had crossed swords with opposing counsel whose verbal fluency and suppleness of mind had to be respected. By contrast, this man was easy meat. He didn't pay his fees so why should he worry?
"So how do you intend to pursue the case, Brian if that's not too much to ask"
"The way I normally approach a case, providing there's a nice fat fee at the end of it"
"So you will bear in mind what I've just said"
Brian Cantwell paused for a moment as if to consider making up his mind. In reality, the presence of this very pushy politician had only reinforced his own ideas on how to conduct his case.
"It depends on a number of factors and what you call hard, Neil. I'm up against George Channing. Surely you know how hard she can get."
The other man's eyes glittered with anger at Brian Cantwell's adroit non-answer. He wasn't sure whether this impudent fellow was also rubbing his past relationship with George in his face.
"I can't see what the problem is. You want the case to be thrown out. There are very few barristers that I can think of who might beat me in a fair fight. She has carved out a tidy reputation for being a tough fighter, especially over the last few years when she has had a run of victories. She is very well thought of."
"So long as you play your part, that is all that I'm asking of you," hissed Neil Haughton." I don't care how you do it. I just want results"
He was burning up inside. It crossed his mind that the man was playing with him and taunting him with titbits of gossip of his past relationship with George. He was never sure just how much of his private life leaked out to those who had no business in knowing his business. In turn, Brian Cantwell looked back at him with amused contempt to see how twitchy the man was.
"Of course, it also depends on which judge gets his, or her, hands on the case, Neil. It ought not to matter but I have found that in practice, it does. Judges are after all, human just like the rest of us. Still, I dare say that you will know before I do. You're the Home Secretary after all."
Brian Cantwell strolled away with a thoughtful expression on his face. He had no time with neurotics who spilled over into print with their conspiracy theories. It seemed that they were forever trying to get you to worry what lay the other side of his garden hedge. It seemed too much like hard work for him. After this conversation, snatches of conversations came back to his mind and he resolved to treat such theories more seriously in future. There was one thing for sure and that he was damned if he was going to let some politician push him around. Besides, the prospect of crossing swords with George promised to be a good scrap. At least it wouldn't be dull.