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1.92% A Legal Affair / Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The new kid on the block

Capítulo 2: Chapter 2: The new kid on the block

On their way to Elisabeth's office the principal solicitor in charge of criminal law, Colin Petrie, diverted them to his own, pointing to chairs and taking one for himself. 'How'd it go?'

Elisabeth said, 'He's okay with me taking over.'

'Have you two talked yet?'

'As much as we've had time for. What I want to do now is read everything, then go over it with Robert. Then talk to any of the witnesses I'm able to before getting back to Russell.'

'What did you think of him?'

Russell's last look was sealed in her memory. 'A nice kid.'

'Don't be deceived.'

'Why? Is there something I should know?'

'No. I'm just saying don't be fooled by appearances.'

She was the unknown, so she made the concession. 'I'm not. But there's something genuine about him. A jury might be sympathetic.'

He snapped. 'That's not something you should take for granted.'

Again, placatory. 'I know.'

'Well,' he said, dismissively, 'You've got two weeks. Keep Lister informed. It's the kind of case he likes to be involved in. You'd better see him now and let him know where you are with it.'

'Is he always like that? Or is it just me?' In her new office Elisabeth dropped her briefcase and hung her jacket over the back of a chair. A coat stand would be handy but there was barely room for what was already there: desk, bookcase, filing cabinet, her own chair and two for visitors. What there was no room for was lounging; visitors would be knocking their knees on her desk. She had spoken quietly, her office barely half a dozen steps from Petrie's.

Robert followed and took a spare chair. 'He wanted the case but he's snowed under so Lister gave it to you. I'm surprised Lister didn't take it himself. Like Colin said, this is the sort of case he likes and it's not often he gets the chance. You must have made an impression.'

She had been interviewed for the job by both. And both had been enthusiastic. The one thing she hadn't counted on when assigned this case was any type of supervision. At interview she had been given to understand they operated much as a private firm did, that she would run her own cases. The only form of accounting she had envisaged would be at the wrap-up and to the team - and that as little or as much as she preferred. In this case the team was Robert Murphy and Judy Bowman, one of the office's two para-legals. Robert was already giving her qualms. She had never thought she would be less than happy that any offsider would be shrewd and intelligent. She was just going to have to be shrewder.

'Tough,' she said, then put it aside. 'About Russell, a few things are niggling me. It's all so straightforward, so neat. Everyone's so sincere. We have an accused who can't remember, a wife who says he killed her husband in front of her, and a friend and his girlfriend saying he must have done it - with a knife that everyone who knows him says he never let out of his possession.' She shivered and rubbed her arms. 'Is there a problem with the air conditioning?'

'Feels fine to me.'

Elisabeth reclaimed her jacket and dropped her elbows onto the desk to rub her face. 'Let me read everything and tomorrow we'll get cracking.' As Robert left she asked, 'What's Niemen like?'

He took the two paces necessary to bring him back. 'Fair enough. We'd have preferred Wilson, but he's taken three months' leave. We couldn't stall that long.' He waited. Was that all she wanted?

'Who's for the Crown?'

'QC from Sydney. Thierry Richards. Know him?'

She stared.

'You do?'

'Who doesn't,' she said, remembering she had to see Lister. As she followed Robert out Colin Petrie called, 'Have you been upstairs yet?'

'Going now,' she said without breaking step and giving him the chance for additions, heading off down the corridor and up the internal steps to the first floor warren where it was a memory test in negotiating skills. A couple of directions were necessary. Liz Fraser, Lister's secretary, waved her through although he was on the phone. An agreed arrangement because he motioned her to a seat forming part of a subdued four petal arrangement fanning out from a teak veneered coffee table without taking breath. Elisabeth edged her way around to have her back to the window.

The decor followed the dove grey and plum diluted by cream colour scheme of the overall office floor plan. Details overlooked at interview she now took stock of. The wood-veneered executive furniture failed to draw attention away from the urbane, well-spoken man of middling years occupying it. Well groomed, handsomely large and impeccably tailored he lounged at ease behind his free-from-litter desk and carried on the one-sided conversation as though she was not there.

She didn't listen. She was preparing what she was going to say. Ten minutes later, when she left, she was obligated to twice weekly briefings and had been extended an open invitation, which she felt he would chase, for discussions on any point at any time.

She took everything home that night. An airy one-bedroom apartment in a recently built inner city block. More than she wanted to pay in rent but only five minutes walk from the office while she looked for something permanent. With the balcony door open wide for any breeze Elisabeth sat and pored through witness statements, investigation notes, committal transcripts and Warren Beaumont's notes, all the time making her own.

By three thirty the next morning she had been through it all.

***

'We're going to try tracing the family.'

Robert looked like he had misheard. 'You saw the report?'

'Yes, and I can't believe you couldn't find them.'

He was speechless. That was all right, she was in no mood to keep the peace. He found some words. 'We went through everything: police, local council, electoral roll, clubs, and came up with nothing.'

Elisabeth changed her mind and decided to settle his feathers. 'The school had his details. Two neighbours remembered the family.'

'Who moved away God knows when or where to.'

'After Russell went jackarooing presumably, because the Redland Downs' records note that address as his home address. And they said he received mail.'

'But didn't keep any.'

'Maybe he doesn't hoard.' She was short of patience. 'Let's be charitable. Maybe no-one had contacted him for a while. Maybe things went astray. It's only when something like this happens that people start putting all sorts of connotations on the most innocent of things. You know that. What did they find when they picked him up? Were there photos or anything in his wallet? Did he have a laptop or tablet? How about a mobile?'

'He didn't have them. No point, reception's iffy out there I imagine. And nineteen year olds don't carry address books and family photos around.'

'My point exactly.'


next chapter

Capítulo 3: Chapter 3: A heated exchange

Judy Bowman, Elisabeth's third in the team, put in her young bobbed head, hair and eyes an exact match in light brown. 'Coffee?'

Robert smiled his thanks. His smile was one of his good features. Genuine and often used, Elisabeth had already noticed its effect - others broke into returning smiles and unconsciously wore them for long minutes after. It was their second day and already he was smiling less with her.

'Thank you,' she said. 'Milk, no sugar.'

'So,' he persisted, 'How are you going to find them?'

'I'll talk to your investigator. Someone has to know where they are.'

'Who's he going to question that he hasn't already?'

'He's going to have to talk to everyone again. And let's not fight over this, it's going to be tough enough.' It wasn't a plea or a request. His body expanded with the breath he drew. Judy received brief thanks from both for the coffee. When she left she did so closing the door carefully. Even so their muted voices came through the walls.

'I have no intention of fighting with you, but you've been here less than two days and already you're saying I haven't done my job properly.'

'You've seen him,' Elisabeth said. 'You've seen that scar. That friend of his nearly killed him. He opened up the whole side of Russell's face with that rifle butt. Beat him senseless and continued to beat and kick until stopped by the police. Jesus, Robert.'

'I'm sorry - have I missed something?'

'Missed something? Isn't that what this is all about; someone capable of violence.'

'They'd just found out he'd knifed a man to death. If Waite hadn't hit him he'd probably've ended up the same way.'

Elisabeth sat down and put finger pads to lips. She spoke between them. 'Is that what you think?'

Now she had both angered and embarrassed him. 'Does it matter what I think.'

'You're instructing. And if you can say it to me who else have you said it to? It won't help me and it certainly won't help Russell - talking of not doing your job properly.'

He blinked and went rigid. She watched him clamp his lips with his teeth to prevent words that shouldn't be said. He at least would stay the right side of the line. She realised just how far over it she had been. 'I apologise. Obviously that won't affect how you do your job.' She glanced at her watch. 'Do you do anything for lunch? Can I buy you a sandwich?'

'Thanks,' he said, 'but I'm going to the gym. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me sane.'

She watched his departing back, stiff with unforgiveness. Sanity was also high on her list.

After lunch they got back into it.

'The thing,' Robert said, 'about these automaton cases is that if they thought about it for a bit they'd realise just how much harder it makes their defence. They seem to think they can't be found guilty if they say they don't remember.'

'You enlightened him though.'

'He's adamant he can't remember. I explained the rules for introducing evidence and how much more difficult it will be if we can't proceed that way. I also tried drawing him out by telling him he'd probably have a better chance with the jury if his memory returned and he could show some remorse.'

'The problem with that, of course,' Elisabeth said, 'is that if he really can't remember anything, saying that he can now would leave him without a motive. If he really can't remember, what reason can he give for doing it?' He didn't answer. 'Can you see that?'

'Yes. And either way he's stuffed.' He waited, curious as to what she would say.

She sipped water from her coffee mug and sat holding it between both hands. 'Let's assume - and we are going to assume - that he's telling the truth. The medical evidence, Dr Westmore's, bears out that his injuries could well have induced that state. But he makes a point of saying that it's impossible to tell whether it's genuine or feigned. So neither side wins a point, except,' she lifted a finger from the mug 'except in as much as Russell did sustain injuries to the head, among others, that almost killed him. A jury might give him the benefit of the doubt with the amnesia.'

'But the crunch line is they have a witness, the wife. She saw Russell stab her husband. Believing or disbelieving the amnesia is irrelevant.'

Elisabeth persisted. 'If the jury is inclined to believe the amnesia they're halfway to being on Russell's side, halfway to wanting to believe him incapable of murdering someone.' She saw his doubt. 'They'll be feeling sorry for him. They'll be looking to us for help. People don't want to send someone to gaol, especially for a long time, unless they're very sure they're guilty.'

Robert leaned back, the morning forgotten, catching his hair in his fingers and running them over his scalp. Momentarily it stood in damp brown channels then flopped under its own weight to the right. 'Remember this was no accidental stabbing.' His hands fell to his thighs. 'The supposition is that Russell decided to rob the store, whether it was planned or spontaneous we don't know. According to the wife, when her husband refused to hand over the money he walked calmly around the counter, raised the knife and deliberately stabbed the man. She assumed he was just going to take the money and was totally unprepared for what happened.'

'And if Russell was so cool about it why did he leave his knife in the victim? Why didn't he take the money? Why didn't Stavros evade the knife? Surely he saw it coming.'

Robert snorted. 'Are you always so vigilant that you couldn't be taken by surprise? It's all there,' his arm swept the documents on her desk. 'He was slicing open a packet of chips at the counter before demanding the cash.'

'He walked around the counter with the knife in his hand and they weren't even a little apprehensive?'

'Things are rarely that neat.'

'Maybe.' She was thinking. 'And the wife is the only witness. No-one else was in the shop.'

'Except for Russell. And Greg Waite and Lisa Moody outside in the car.'

'And they didn't know what he was going to do?'

'So they say.'

She rubbed her fingertips back and forth across her mouth, then suddenly dropped her forehead to the heel of her palm. 'Maybe what we should be doing - instead of trying to prove Russell innocent - is trying to show that someone else could be guilty.' She grinned, more a grimace than anything reminiscent of humour. 'Just thinking aloud. But you have to admit the possibilities.'

'Yeah,' he said. 'The wife's a definite.'

'And then there's the mate who almost killed him.'

The thought sparked Robert, but only momentarily. 'Why would the wife say it was Russell if it wasn't?'

She sighed. 'Difficult, I agree.'

He stood to flex his shoulders. He wasn't going to hide how he felt. 'I think you're wrong.'


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