Part Nineteen
On the Wednesday morning, they were joined in the gallery by Helen. Karen privately thought that after two days, they needed some new blood, someone new to infiltrate their little gathering. Helen had met Roisin some time ago through the fact that Yvonne and Nikki were friends, and she'd obviously known Barbara also through Nikki, but it was time for Helen to meet George, and Karen found herself wondering what Nikki might have told Helen about the new addition to the Atkins support group. It seemed to matter to Karen what all her friends thought of George, which was stupid. George was perfectly capable of standing up for herself, but it didn't stop Karen feeling slightly protective. "George," Nikki said when they all met in the foyer. "This is Helen, Helen Wade," She added, a smile of pure pride lighting up her face for a moment, showing George that whilst these two women might not be technically married, the fact that Helen had changed her name to Nikki's meant as much to both of them. "Though you might know me better as Helen Stewart," Helen added in her lilting Scottish burgh which appeared gentle though with a hidden strength not far underneath. "Oh, yes," George said, holding out her hand to shake Helen's, and remembering the way Helen had fitted in to the jigsaw of Fenner's crimes. "Nikki tells me you spent a day unofficially at Her Majesty's pleasure some time ago," Helen put in, trying both to make some sort of conversation and to put George, who clearly felt like the new girl of the class, at her ease. "I can see that I'm never going to live that down," George said ruefully. "What the bloody hell's she doing here?" Helen asked catching a sight of Di Barker walking off towards the room reserved for the prosecution's witnesses. "Whether she's doing it because I brought in Gina as principle officer instead of giving Di a promotion, or whether she's doing it to get some sort of twisted revenge on me for being alive instead of where Fenner is now, I couldn't tell you. But she's giving evidence for the prosecution." "Oh, there'll be a reason for it," Said Helen knowingly. They began walking up the wide marble stairs, Nikki, Roisin and Barbara in front, with Helen, George and Karen bringing up the rear. "Dominic nearly put in for an instant transfer when he found out he'd be working with her again." "How's he getting on?" Asked Helen, and George felt comfortable listening to the two women who had once had their profession in common and who could clearly never tire of discussing it. "Oh, he's fine," Said Karen with a smile. "That year or so in Greece really did something to him, took away his shyness. He even threatened the Julies with segregation last week." Helen laughed. "I was going to come yesterday," Helen said, lowering her voice so that only George and Karen could hear her. "But I didn't think I could stand the tension of Nikki and Thomas in the same place." "Well, you'll be pleased to know that she was very civil to him," Karen said equally quietly. "Thank god for that," Said Helen in sheer relief. "How did he get on?" "I shouldn't say it, as he's appearing for the other side," Replied Karen, "But he was pretty good." "His report didn't do him or the prosecution any favours though," Put in George. "Why?" Helen asked, clearly still interested in what he got up to. "He made a couple of very broad statements which Jo managed to pull to pieces and which forced him to get off the fence, fortunately landing on our side not theirs," Explained George. "Who's on this morning?" "The police officer who arrested Lauren," Replied Karen. "You'll remember him, Helen, the bloke who tried to pin Renee Williams' death on Shaz Wiley." "Not that shifty-looking bastard?" Helen asked in disgust. Then turning to George, she explained. "This lovely little representative of the Metropolitan police kept the entire prison on lock down for nearly a fortnight, over nothing more than a bloody nut allergy." "The very same," confirmed Karen. "Sounds as though he hasn't changed," Said George dryly. "Getting an Atkins convicted would no doubt result in his rise to chief." "You're learning," Said Nikki approvingly, having heard the tail end of the conversation as they moved in to the front bench of the gallery, their number now making a total of six for John to keep his beady eye on throughout the proceedings.
"Detective Inspector Sullivan," Neumann Mason-Alan began once he'd got the policeman on the stand. "Please could you tell the court about the day you arrested Lauren Atkins? What you did when you called on her? What she said to you?" Sullivan tried and failed to look professional. "Lauren Atkins wasn't very pleased to see me," He replied, shooting a sneer over at the dock. "She took a while to open the door, possibly taking the time to check me and my colleague, Detective Sergeant Greer, out first." John felt it necessary to intervene. "Inspector, would you not consider this a wise move for a woman on her own, about to open her front door to two strangers?" Sullivan looked scornful. "This is an Atkins we're talking about My Lord. Before allowing me entry in to her house, she told me that she couldn't guarantee my safety with her Alsatian dog." Karen couldn't help emitting a small, quiet giggle, which brought a wide grin from Nikki who had also met Trigger and knew just how soft he was. "Lauren Atkins took my presence as an immediate threat, and used the threat of her dog's teeth to attempt to keep me and my colleague from questioning her." "Oh, honestly," Said Barbara in a stage whisper, which brought a raised eyebrow from George. "The Atkins dog is softer than that whippet of John's," Karen almost silently told her. "How did Lauren Atkins react to your questioning?" Asked Neumann Mason-Alan. "She was rude, belligerent and utterly refused to co-operate." "My Lord," Said Jo, rising to her feet. "This is a prejudicial statement against my client's character which cannot be proved. My client maintains that she did co-operate with the police when they visited her home, and that she made no attempt to resist their arrest." "Be careful to stick to the facts, Inspector," John warned. "My Lord," Sullivan insisted, "Might I remind you who we are talking about here?" "Not if you don't want to end up before me on a charge of contempt of court, no," John replied sternly. "My Lord, if I might be allowed to continue with the witness?" Mason-Alan tried to regain the reins. "By all means," John said blithely. "But you might choose to impress on your witness that he would do well to show some respect for his surroundings." "Detective Inspector Sullivan," Mason-Alan returned to his questioning. "Did Lauren Atkins show any inclination to be co-operative once you returned with her to the police station?" "Not in the least," Sullivan replied, seeing in the prosecuting barrister a man after his own heart. "She refused to tell us anything. Not one, single detail. Even when we offered her the advice of the duty solicitor, she refused to say a word." "What about when you presented her with the evidence of the gun, the spade and the empty cartridge case? Did this not provoke any reaction from her?" "No, not anything. Miss, Lauren, Atkins," Sullivan said, slowly spacing out the words, "Has obviously been well coached in how to deal with a visit from the law. I have had occasion to question her mother, Yvonne Atkins, and neither woman has ever given the police the time of day." "Well, if this is the way you discuss them in court," John intervened, "then I'm hardly surprised." Seeing that this witness would be nothing more to him than a lost cause, Neumann Mason-Alan sat down, leaving the way open for Jo who quickly moved in for the kill.
"Detective Inspector Sullivan," Jo began, not giving him a moment to take a breath. "When you asked Lauren Atkins if she had ever heard of James Fenner, what did she say to you?" "She put on this fake, innocent expression that was supposed to fool me, and said, oh, wasn't he the prison officer who was murdered last October. Then she made the connection that he used to work on the wing where her mother had been incarcerated." "And does that response strike you as unco-operative?" "No, it strikes me as a pathetic attempt to fool me. One I might add that didn't work." "Now, whilst I will not waste the court's time," She quoted John's words of yesterday, "By attempting to prove that my client co-operated with you during her initial interview, she did agree to give you a full, fact-filled statement at a later date, 3L in your bundle, My Lord." "You call that little fabrication a full, fact-filled statement, do you?" Sullivan asked in amusement. "Of course," Said Jo without ranker, "Why, what would you call it?" "What I would call Lauren Atkins' police statement couldn't possibly be repeated in present company," Sullivan drawled with nothing but malice in his tone. "With that in mind," Jo continued, sounding amiable to only those who didn't know her. "Wouldn't it be fair to suggest that your attitude to my client was prejudiced from the start, and that your sole reason for taking on this case was because you had failed to pin another death on Yvonne Atkins? A death that I should point out for the court to be the result of a fatally allergic reaction to nuts?" "Listen dear," Sullivan said, openly snarling at Jo who remained thoroughly unmoved. "Your client," Sullivan almost spat out the word, "Is the last in a long line of criminals. Her father was one, her brother was one, and her mother, who I suspect is paying your fee, is one. To give Lauren Atkins her due, it would have been a miracle if she hadn't ended up becoming involved in violent crime." "Inspector, Yvonne Atkins was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder, not murder itself. Does that not suggest to you that if an Atkins were thinking of committing a murder, they would far rather pay someone else to do it for them? That is, if I am willing to go along with the assumption that my client is guilty, which of course I am not." "Now you're just playing with words, about all you defence barristers are good for." "Right, that will do," John almost roared. "Inspector, if you should ever have occasion to be before me again, I do hope you will conduct yourself with a lot more decorum, now get out." When Sullivan had retreated in high dudgeon, John adjourned the proceedings until after lunch.
When they reached the foyer, George turned to Karen and said, "I'm afraid I can't be here this afternoon. I've got a couple of appointments I can't get out of." "You don't have to be here," Karen said quietly. "Yes, I do," George said decisively. "Quitting this case now would feel like missing the rest of the story. Besides," She said, lowering her voice to a seductive lull that hovered invitingly over Karen's senses. "Spending all my days in your company is allowing me to make up for lost time." Karen smiled that soft, soul-deep smile that a not so subtle piece of flirtation always provoked in her. "Then will you allow me to buy you dinner tonight?" Karen found herself asking without any prior thought. George grinned broadly but still kept her voice fairly quiet. "Do you know," She said with the wickedest little smirk. "That could almost have been said by John." "I was saying things like that long before I met him," Karen said with a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure you were," Drawled George with utter certainty. "And yes, dinner would be lovely." Agreeing to pick her up at seven thirty that evening, Karen watched as George walked confidently off towards her car. "You know, I think Nikki's right about you," An amused Scottish lilt said beside her. "Really," Karen said dryly but with a wide smile. Then, turning serious she said, "But please, I'd rather no one else knew about this for now, especially Yvonne. I have no idea where it's going, or even if it'll go anywhere, and now isn't the time to give Yvonne another piece of news she certainly isn't going to like." "You're secret is safe with me, or should I say us," Said Helen, privately thinking that if the look on George's face was anything to go by, then whatever it was certainly would be going somewhere, and that this might be the best thing for Karen, someone who wasn't even slightly connected to Larkhall or her job. Let's face it, Helen thought to herself, she knew all about the problems of mixing business with pleasure. A bit of pleasure that couldn't be described as even remotely associated with business was definitely what Karen needed.
On the Wednesday morning, they were joined in the gallery by Helen. Karen privately thought that after two days, they needed some new blood, someone new to infiltrate their little gathering. Helen had met Roisin some time ago through the fact that Yvonne and Nikki were friends, and she'd obviously known Barbara also through Nikki, but it was time for Helen to meet George, and Karen found herself wondering what Nikki might have told Helen about the new addition to the Atkins support group. It seemed to matter to Karen what all her friends thought of George, which was stupid. George was perfectly capable of standing up for herself, but it didn't stop Karen feeling slightly protective. "George," Nikki said when they all met in the foyer. "This is Helen, Helen Wade," She added, a smile of pure pride lighting up her face for a moment, showing George that whilst these two women might not be technically married, the fact that Helen had changed her name to Nikki's meant as much to both of them. "Though you might know me better as Helen Stewart," Helen added in her lilting Scottish burgh which appeared gentle though with a hidden strength not far underneath. "Oh, yes," George said, holding out her hand to shake Helen's, and remembering the way Helen had fitted in to the jigsaw of Fenner's crimes. "Nikki tells me you spent a day unofficially at Her Majesty's pleasure some time ago," Helen put in, trying both to make some sort of conversation and to put George, who clearly felt like the new girl of the class, at her ease. "I can see that I'm never going to live that down," George said ruefully. "What the bloody hell's she doing here?" Helen asked catching a sight of Di Barker walking off towards the room reserved for the prosecution's witnesses. "Whether she's doing it because I brought in Gina as principle officer instead of giving Di a promotion, or whether she's doing it to get some sort of twisted revenge on me for being alive instead of where Fenner is now, I couldn't tell you. But she's giving evidence for the prosecution." "Oh, there'll be a reason for it," Said Helen knowingly. They began walking up the wide marble stairs, Nikki, Roisin and Barbara in front, with Helen, George and Karen bringing up the rear. "Dominic nearly put in for an instant transfer when he found out he'd be working with her again." "How's he getting on?" Asked Helen, and George felt comfortable listening to the two women who had once had their profession in common and who could clearly never tire of discussing it. "Oh, he's fine," Said Karen with a smile. "That year or so in Greece really did something to him, took away his shyness. He even threatened the Julies with segregation last week." Helen laughed. "I was going to come yesterday," Helen said, lowering her voice so that only George and Karen could hear her. "But I didn't think I could stand the tension of Nikki and Thomas in the same place." "Well, you'll be pleased to know that she was very civil to him," Karen said equally quietly. "Thank god for that," Said Helen in sheer relief. "How did he get on?" "I shouldn't say it, as he's appearing for the other side," Replied Karen, "But he was pretty good." "His report didn't do him or the prosecution any favours though," Put in George. "Why?" Helen asked, clearly still interested in what he got up to. "He made a couple of very broad statements which Jo managed to pull to pieces and which forced him to get off the fence, fortunately landing on our side not theirs," Explained George. "Who's on this morning?" "The police officer who arrested Lauren," Replied Karen. "You'll remember him, Helen, the bloke who tried to pin Renee Williams' death on Shaz Wiley." "Not that shifty-looking bastard?" Helen asked in disgust. Then turning to George, she explained. "This lovely little representative of the Metropolitan police kept the entire prison on lock down for nearly a fortnight, over nothing more than a bloody nut allergy." "The very same," confirmed Karen. "Sounds as though he hasn't changed," Said George dryly. "Getting an Atkins convicted would no doubt result in his rise to chief." "You're learning," Said Nikki approvingly, having heard the tail end of the conversation as they moved in to the front bench of the gallery, their number now making a total of six for John to keep his beady eye on throughout the proceedings.
"Detective Inspector Sullivan," Neumann Mason-Alan began once he'd got the policeman on the stand. "Please could you tell the court about the day you arrested Lauren Atkins? What you did when you called on her? What she said to you?" Sullivan tried and failed to look professional. "Lauren Atkins wasn't very pleased to see me," He replied, shooting a sneer over at the dock. "She took a while to open the door, possibly taking the time to check me and my colleague, Detective Sergeant Greer, out first." John felt it necessary to intervene. "Inspector, would you not consider this a wise move for a woman on her own, about to open her front door to two strangers?" Sullivan looked scornful. "This is an Atkins we're talking about My Lord. Before allowing me entry in to her house, she told me that she couldn't guarantee my safety with her Alsatian dog." Karen couldn't help emitting a small, quiet giggle, which brought a wide grin from Nikki who had also met Trigger and knew just how soft he was. "Lauren Atkins took my presence as an immediate threat, and used the threat of her dog's teeth to attempt to keep me and my colleague from questioning her." "Oh, honestly," Said Barbara in a stage whisper, which brought a raised eyebrow from George. "The Atkins dog is softer than that whippet of John's," Karen almost silently told her. "How did Lauren Atkins react to your questioning?" Asked Neumann Mason-Alan. "She was rude, belligerent and utterly refused to co-operate." "My Lord," Said Jo, rising to her feet. "This is a prejudicial statement against my client's character which cannot be proved. My client maintains that she did co-operate with the police when they visited her home, and that she made no attempt to resist their arrest." "Be careful to stick to the facts, Inspector," John warned. "My Lord," Sullivan insisted, "Might I remind you who we are talking about here?" "Not if you don't want to end up before me on a charge of contempt of court, no," John replied sternly. "My Lord, if I might be allowed to continue with the witness?" Mason-Alan tried to regain the reins. "By all means," John said blithely. "But you might choose to impress on your witness that he would do well to show some respect for his surroundings." "Detective Inspector Sullivan," Mason-Alan returned to his questioning. "Did Lauren Atkins show any inclination to be co-operative once you returned with her to the police station?" "Not in the least," Sullivan replied, seeing in the prosecuting barrister a man after his own heart. "She refused to tell us anything. Not one, single detail. Even when we offered her the advice of the duty solicitor, she refused to say a word." "What about when you presented her with the evidence of the gun, the spade and the empty cartridge case? Did this not provoke any reaction from her?" "No, not anything. Miss, Lauren, Atkins," Sullivan said, slowly spacing out the words, "Has obviously been well coached in how to deal with a visit from the law. I have had occasion to question her mother, Yvonne Atkins, and neither woman has ever given the police the time of day." "Well, if this is the way you discuss them in court," John intervened, "then I'm hardly surprised." Seeing that this witness would be nothing more to him than a lost cause, Neumann Mason-Alan sat down, leaving the way open for Jo who quickly moved in for the kill.
"Detective Inspector Sullivan," Jo began, not giving him a moment to take a breath. "When you asked Lauren Atkins if she had ever heard of James Fenner, what did she say to you?" "She put on this fake, innocent expression that was supposed to fool me, and said, oh, wasn't he the prison officer who was murdered last October. Then she made the connection that he used to work on the wing where her mother had been incarcerated." "And does that response strike you as unco-operative?" "No, it strikes me as a pathetic attempt to fool me. One I might add that didn't work." "Now, whilst I will not waste the court's time," She quoted John's words of yesterday, "By attempting to prove that my client co-operated with you during her initial interview, she did agree to give you a full, fact-filled statement at a later date, 3L in your bundle, My Lord." "You call that little fabrication a full, fact-filled statement, do you?" Sullivan asked in amusement. "Of course," Said Jo without ranker, "Why, what would you call it?" "What I would call Lauren Atkins' police statement couldn't possibly be repeated in present company," Sullivan drawled with nothing but malice in his tone. "With that in mind," Jo continued, sounding amiable to only those who didn't know her. "Wouldn't it be fair to suggest that your attitude to my client was prejudiced from the start, and that your sole reason for taking on this case was because you had failed to pin another death on Yvonne Atkins? A death that I should point out for the court to be the result of a fatally allergic reaction to nuts?" "Listen dear," Sullivan said, openly snarling at Jo who remained thoroughly unmoved. "Your client," Sullivan almost spat out the word, "Is the last in a long line of criminals. Her father was one, her brother was one, and her mother, who I suspect is paying your fee, is one. To give Lauren Atkins her due, it would have been a miracle if she hadn't ended up becoming involved in violent crime." "Inspector, Yvonne Atkins was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder, not murder itself. Does that not suggest to you that if an Atkins were thinking of committing a murder, they would far rather pay someone else to do it for them? That is, if I am willing to go along with the assumption that my client is guilty, which of course I am not." "Now you're just playing with words, about all you defence barristers are good for." "Right, that will do," John almost roared. "Inspector, if you should ever have occasion to be before me again, I do hope you will conduct yourself with a lot more decorum, now get out." When Sullivan had retreated in high dudgeon, John adjourned the proceedings until after lunch.
When they reached the foyer, George turned to Karen and said, "I'm afraid I can't be here this afternoon. I've got a couple of appointments I can't get out of." "You don't have to be here," Karen said quietly. "Yes, I do," George said decisively. "Quitting this case now would feel like missing the rest of the story. Besides," She said, lowering her voice to a seductive lull that hovered invitingly over Karen's senses. "Spending all my days in your company is allowing me to make up for lost time." Karen smiled that soft, soul-deep smile that a not so subtle piece of flirtation always provoked in her. "Then will you allow me to buy you dinner tonight?" Karen found herself asking without any prior thought. George grinned broadly but still kept her voice fairly quiet. "Do you know," She said with the wickedest little smirk. "That could almost have been said by John." "I was saying things like that long before I met him," Karen said with a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure you were," Drawled George with utter certainty. "And yes, dinner would be lovely." Agreeing to pick her up at seven thirty that evening, Karen watched as George walked confidently off towards her car. "You know, I think Nikki's right about you," An amused Scottish lilt said beside her. "Really," Karen said dryly but with a wide smile. Then, turning serious she said, "But please, I'd rather no one else knew about this for now, especially Yvonne. I have no idea where it's going, or even if it'll go anywhere, and now isn't the time to give Yvonne another piece of news she certainly isn't going to like." "You're secret is safe with me, or should I say us," Said Helen, privately thinking that if the look on George's face was anything to go by, then whatever it was certainly would be going somewhere, and that this might be the best thing for Karen, someone who wasn't even slightly connected to Larkhall or her job. Let's face it, Helen thought to herself, she knew all about the problems of mixing business with pleasure. A bit of pleasure that couldn't be described as even remotely associated with business was definitely what Karen needed.