"What the devil do we do about the Mills trial?" Sir Ian testily demanded of his subordinate Lawrence James in one of their regular conferences in his private office.
A profusely worded memo had appeared on his desk listing various options but in all its wordiness, had frustratingly failed to come off the fence and left it to him to finally decide on how to prosecute the trial. For once, he was given an open field on a matter to decide when he felt utterly unable to come to a decision.
"This could be embarrassing for the Department," Lawrence James observed pronouncing that curious abbreviation for the LCD with an audible capital letter.
"The woman must be dealt with in the same way as any other person who is facing trial," Came his curt reply.
"We must not be seen to be taking sides"
"Correction, Lawrence. We must not be taking sides. It is incumbent on the brethren to distance themselves as far as possible from the accused in the prosecution of the trial"
"That is all very well, Sir Ian, but you are forgetting that she once played in the orchestra where virtually all the brethren were present"
Sir Ian promptly broke the pencil that he had been fiddling with.
"There is one person above all else to whom the trial should never be entrusted and that is Deed. He cannot be considered a 'safe pair of hands"
If Lawrence James's dark complexion could have paled, it would have done at the nightmare vision that came to his mind of the damage that man could do.
"Where is the prisoner held right now"
"Larkhall. Where else? That can of worms," Sir Ian spat back in exasperation.
"Could she not be moved to a prison remote from Deed's area of work? If we cannot separate Deed from the opportunity of trying the Mills case, the Home Office could separate her from the chances of the case falling into his hands"
"An excellent suggestion," Sir Ian beamed. "Can you follow up the matter as a matter of extreme urgency"
The two men sipped tea out of expensive bone china crockery as they casually decided on the fate of a single individual with that confidence of those who felt that they were born to rule. The accused was a woman who had only briefly entered their circle of acquaintance but was not really a full time member of their croneys. It had escaped their minds that James Brooklands, a wealth creator, had been afforded protection by the establishment whereas Mrs Mills was a mere vicar's wife and was therefore expendable.
"Oh no, they can't do this," Grayling swore to himself with suppressed outrage as a memo appeared on his desk from Alison Warner suggesting that 'to secure transparency in justice and avoid public embarrassment, Mrs. Mills should be transferred to a rural prison away from the rough and tumble of the London prisons in keeping with her age. I would suggest that Style prison in Cheshire would be admirably suited to her needs'
At one time he had behaved in a devious and unprincipled fashion and this experience enabled him to see into their minds and be especially acute to the machinations of his political opponents.
Grayling smiled as these last two words popped into his mind. The Home Office was part of the civil service and, as such, should act as the impartial administration of the government's affairs. In reality, he knew that such a viewpoint was hopelessly naïve. He sensed a pervading authoritarian, intolerant spirit which saw prisoners rights and civil liberties groups as an infection in society to be extirpated by all means, fair or foul. There was certainly good mileage to be had out of being hard on 'law and order' in terms of newspaper headlines. He smiled to himself that the establishment had made a major mistake in admitting him to their ranks and probably viewed him as a Trojan horse, engineered by the forces of subversion. That thought cheered him considerably.
He would not think of informing Karen of this proposal. This was something, which he felt instinctively, he should shield her from. His salary from the Home Office enabled him to live a luxurious lifestyle with his partner, Marcus, and it was this sort of situation that prompted him to feel that he should earn every penny of it by taking the knocks. The trouble was, when his anger had cooled down, that there was a lot of merit in what was suggested. Objectively speaking, a trial conducted by complete strangers would ensure proper justice. He was accustomed to producing policy recommendations setting out the pros and cons of a case and if he considered the matter of Barbara's transfer to another prison, he would find himself hard put to it to find arguments to outweigh the move. His incisive mind and wealth of experience in the prison system made him useful to his masters, too useful to be dispensed with. That was the sole reason, he reflected ruefully, why he had maintained his position, apart from his natural cunning obstinacy in clinging to it like a limpet to a rock.
He moved away from his computer and paced round his office in thought and sipped from a tumbler of ice cold mineral water before time for reflection crystallized the ideas more sharply. The problem was what he didn't know. The whole matter spanned the entire arch in justice between the home office and the court of law, he finally concluded. He simply did not know anywhere near enough about the legal side of the matter. The idea both sprang into existence and hardened into a decision. He had to discreetly consult John, the one man with the combined knowledge and integrity in whom he could trust.
"Take a seat, Neil," John courteously offered Neil, as he looked inquisitively round John's chamber, at its impressive library and tasteful pictures. "To what do I owe your time and trouble"
"It's a discreet matter I wanted to take your advice on, John. I trust that this conversation stays between these four walls"
John viewed Grayling's suggestion rather dubiously. This was the way that at one time Sir Ian prefaced his suggestions to be dragged into some squalid establishment deal before constant rebuffs made him give up in despair.
"I'm only talking this way as a matter has come into my hands which no one outside the Home Office knows about. If this got out, my head will roll. I've been asked to arrange the transfer of Barbara out from Larkhall where she is held on remand to Style Prison in Cheshire, all for the most plausible of reasons"
"And what might they be"
"That the entire London based judiciary have a conflict of interest in their acquaintance with Barbara and that she would be better suited to being housed in a more rural, remote prison away, as they put it, 'from the rough and tumble of the London prisons in keeping with her age' and that 'Style prison in Cheshire would be admirably suited to her needs'
"This smacks of a put up job," John winced, an expression of distaste on his mouth. "The more purple prose the establishment go in for, the likelier is it to be a camouflage for some very shady and morally squalid scheme"
"The whole difficulty is that the recommendation makes a very good case because a very wide section of the legal profession are at the very least slightly acquainted with Barbara. If I remember it correctly, your Bar Council suggested the performance of 'the Creation' as a 'team building exercise' and it succeeded very well, certainly where Barbara is concerned. In her unobtrusive way, she made her presence felt in the most friendly and kind hearted fashion imaginable, as did her late husband"
"So where is the hidden agenda"
"Certain individuals in the Home Office," began Grayling in his stilted fashion, "Sorry, I mean my boss for a start, view Barbara as simply a potential embarrassment to be quietly disposed of as quickly as possible"
John sat up straight in his chair. He was favourably impressed by the bluntness with which Grayling described the situation. It chimed in with his own viewpoint.
"…….which is the main reason I came to you. I needed some input on the legal front and also your advice in coming up with an alternative proposal"
John paused awhile in thought. Grayling had certainly set out a very tricky conundrum. However, it ought not be beyond the wit of both of them to come up with a solution.
"From my direct knowledge, Barbara could not be better served than Larkhall prison where she is assured of sympathetic care by those who know her personally, both inmates and prison officers alike," Spoke up John, a slight edge of emotion in his tones. That image of Karen recklessly risking her life to save a very out of control Denny on a high up rooftop still struck him with admiration and haunted his memories.
"True, but this cuts both ways, especially in relation to Nikki. I just have the gut feeling that my political enemies would love to embroil her in particular in public controversy. I must explain," as John opened his mouth to protest, "that Nikki's record since she became Wing Governor has been exemplary ……like Karen's has"
"You are very fond of them"
Grayling's smile spread over his face, openly showing his intense disinterested pride in them and not as an advertisement for his judgment.
"It is not very often for a gay man to be bound by ties to a growing band of attractive, very determined and resourceful and above all, very loyal women. It wasn't the situation I expected to find myself in as I was growing up."
John smiled at the irony of Grayling's words and its resonance for himself.
"There's another matter. If they are ever attacked, it leaves me vulnerable as well and the finish of my career"
"Meaning?" John bristled.
"I used to want to get to the top of the ladder out of sheer ego, to feel good about myself and there wasn't anything I wouldn't do or say to debase myself to achieve that goal. Now I see it as a chance to do some good in this world and for those who I feel loyalties towards, wherever they are. My position in the Home Office is as far as I will get and I am content. It is a means, not an end."
"So why would you be threatened?" John's silence on the last matter signified assent as he pursued this matter of abstract philosophy and also to further get the measure of this inscrutable man.
"Guilt by association," Grayling said shortly.
"That's contrary to every tenet of English justice." Ancient teachings in John's memory banks talked replied automatically with his voice.
"That's what happens these days. You should know better, John."
The words visibly shook John. He had never heard the increasing power of patronage, of the gradual encroachment of tyranny expressed so cynically or so succinctly before. He had fumed impotently at the gradually emerging pattern of trials where, on the face of it, the accused man was found guilty against all the odds and, on the contrary, where creatures of the establishment wriggled free from their just deserts. The words went against his deepest beliefs but his desire for the truth could not fudge the issue.
Grayling studied John closely and allowed a decent pause to elapse. He sensed that john was a troubled man and half way regretted his presence. He had come here to seek help and not to disturb him.
"I feel that we ought to attack this problem from the other end. Supposing that Barbara were to remain at Larkhall, what are the prospects of you becoming the trial judge and how would you feel about it"
John looked visibly more uncomfortable than ever. He was unusually sensitive to questions about his feelings as opposed to niceties of legal judgment. He felt highly uncomfortable at the prospect of looking down from his throne at Barbara standing before him in the dock and questioned his ability to be as dispassionate as long training dictated to him that he must be.
"The first question is easily answered. The Lord Chancellor's Department would fight, tooth and nail, to ensure that the trial ended up out of my hands. They would prefer that some spineless creature would be there to do their bidding…..As for your second question, I admit to feeling an element of discomfort in trying someone who I am on friendly terms with. It would be a real test of justice"
"If we try some 'blue sky thinking' and imagine what the ideal outcome should be," Grayling's soft voice urged persuasively with a touch of that 'management speak' that was his inevitable trademark. "Can you possibly think of an alternative judge who could treat her in an absolutely non discriminatory fashion." Grayling posed the question.
"True." Reflected John." If I had the choice, I would not care to entrust the responsibility to anyone but myself. I am not speaking out of vanity"
John felt really conflicted by the desire not to let such a case slip out of his hands and scared by the possibility if it were given to him. He had tried former inmates of Larkhall before, Miss Pilkinton, Yvonne's son and daughter but he had become gradually closer to that indomitable female support group that was Larkhall both sides of the prison bars. As he got emotionally closer, he got scared, the perpetual problem of his life.
Grayling meant very well, John noted, he really believed in what he was doing and the man was so infernally persuasive.
"So can you think what the answer might be? We really need as much lateral thinking as wide as possible."
"I am not sure that I could shoulder the responsibility, that's the rub"
"Is there any way that you could share the responsibility?"
To Grayling's intense relief, the light was turned on inside John's mind, smoothing out the lines of distress on his face. He had gradually become aware that that he was putting a lot of emotional pressure on John and he felt guilty. His strength of feeling on the matter had uncharacteristically obscured this from him.
"I hadn't thought of that. That might work"
"I don't quite understand, John"
"A winger……In certain trials, it is possible for a second judge to sit on the trial. You might have noticed from sitting in on previous trials that there is space for as many as three judges in court. It is a system that the Court of Appeal employ for the very reason that three heads are better than one in highly sensitive cases that cases going to the court of appeal invariably are. In this case, it would be perfectly possible for me to conduct the trial and a second judge to be there to assist in the conduct of a trial, to advise and, most important, to be something of an equal partner in deliberations out of court and the structure of the conduct of the trial….yes, this opens up possibilities."
John's mind was racing at top speed as he rapidly explained matters to Grayling's very attentive ear.
"What you need is political insurance, someone who even your opponents couldn't object to but who you would be able to work with. It would have the advantage over any single judge wherever they presided and would show that you are treating the matter with the utmost seriousness"
Grayling's smooth words rolled off his tongue like honey and John could not but admire his astuteness.
"Monty. Monty Everard. He's the man we want. He has that unmistakeable air of the typical God fearing fox hunting man whose reputation is totally impeccable in the eyes of the establishment"
"And yours isn't?" questioned Grayling with a smirk.
"If you have a reputation as a maverick, you have a positive duty to live up to it," John answered in his best insouciant fashion which made Grayling grin in appreciation.
"Do you think that he would agree to the idea if you put all the arguments to him that we've discussed and would you be able to get on with him. It is something of a real commitment for two people in a stressful situation to hold the ring"
John looked thoughtful.
There would be no natural majority / minority option that a three person bench enabled in the last resort. This trial, if it could get off the ground this way, would be like a coach and two coachmen who might pull in opposite directions in a critical moment. He would have to surrender part of his unquestionable authority and would have to rely more on persuasion and reason. This trial would place demands on him that would be new to him but, then again, this was starting to creep into his life in general.
"It's worth trying. He can be crusty and irascible though that might be the pretence of sustaining a fiction of a marriage with that utter ogre of her wife, Vera. You will recall her from her lamentable attempts at singing at the rehearsals"
Grayling winced. He remembered. Then he said in a meditative tone of voice.
"How do you feel the Lord Chancellor's Department will view the proposal"
John grinned for the first time since the meeting started.
"I feel it may be checkmate. They cannot believe that 'their man' won't be able to prevail in what they fondly imagine will be their point of view. It is too much of a temptation to resist as it is both easy and expedient"
"They are politicians. They will go for it," Came Grayling's cynical rejoinder.
John sat back comfortably in his chair. How on earth did he have such an unreasoning aversion to this man, he wondered?
"How much time can you buy in procrastinating in this move to transfer Barbara to another prison before the necessity for it can be scotched"
"I am a master at procrastination when it suits my purpose. The first thing Alison Warner learnt to her cost is not to push me about. I have a whole arsenal of techniques in buying time. You leave that to me, John"
"I'll phone you as soon as I can convince Monty of the wisdom of this idea"
The two men exchanged knowing looks. It looked like a devious conspiracy but in a society increasingly dominated by political fixers, the conspiracy by the 'nod and the wink' the fight for survival to pursue justice meant building up a counter network across institutions. The theory of the separation of powers, between the judiciary, executive and the legislature was all very fine in the ideal democratic society but old formulas didn't work. He had to work out new ones from instincts but at least, he wasn't on his own. Jo and George were telling him this in their different ways as well. It should be a comfort he could cling to.