MURDER BRIEF (11 page)

Patricia nodded casually.
"Hi."

"Hi."

Patricia got into a lift and
disappeared.

Robyn glanced over at the
receptionist, who picked up her phone and told Brian that Robyn was
waiting for him.

The receptionist put down the
phone and looked at Robyn. "He won’t be long."

"OK."

Robyn unleashed her hyper-active
imagination and wondered if Brian and Patricia really had a
conference, or there was some hanky panky? Brian had a reputation
as a mad shagger, but Patricia sported a wedding ring, if that
meant anything these days.

Robyn had to concede the
evidence for a tryst was very slender. And even if they were
bonking, so what? None of her business. Good luck to them. Patricia
was guilty of nothing except bad taste. Robyn gave up speculating
and flicked through a women’s magazine.

Brian strolled out looking a bit
flushed, reactivating her suspicions. Then again, his face usually
had a reddish tinge.

He said: "Sorry. Just tidying
up. Come in."

"Thanks. I see you just had a
conference with Patricia Lenehan."

Brian frowned. "Oh, Patricia.
Yes. You know her?"

"In passing."

"She’s prosecuting one of my
clients. We were discussing a possible plea." He didn’t look her in
the eye.

"Really?"

"Yes. Anyway. Come into my
room."

He led her into his room and
made her sit in a chair facing his desk.

She said: "You look a bit
flushed."

He hesitated and shrugged. "I
do? I went to the gym this morning."

She sensed he was lying, but
reminded herself his love life was none of her business. "That's
good."

He frowned and plopped into his
armchair. "What do you want?"

"To talk about the Markham case.
I’ve been, umm, poking around."

He stared hard. "Poking around?
Into what?"

"Into Alice Markham’s life."

His face clouded. "You shouldn’t
have done that. You‘re supposed to be a barrister, not a cop."

"I know. But it’s too late now.
So, do you want to know what I found out?"

He sighed and shrugged. "OK.
What?"

She explained what she’d done
and learnt during the last few days.

Brian looked reasonably
impressed until she mentioned having lunch with Rex; he grimaced.
"You shouldn’t have done that either."

"Why not?"

"He’s our client. Only talk to
him with a solicitor present. You know the rules."

"I know, I know. But he
insisted."

"So what? You didn’t have to
agree."

"OK, I take you point."

"Good. Anyway, finish your
story."

When she’d finished, he said:
"So Rex was right about Alice having an affair?"

"Yeah. Though, to be more
accurate, she was having
two
affairs."

"And you’ve identified one
lover, Torkhill - who’s got an alibi - but not the other?"

"Correct. So we’d better find
out who he is."

"Yeah. Though, from now on, let
Bernie handle this, OK? He can put the private detective back on
the case."

"That guy’s hopeless. I’ve done
a better job than him."

"Maybe. But rules are
rules."

"You just want to cover your
arse, don’t you?"

"Yes, and yours. I don’t want
our client complaining that an amateur - namely you - handled the
investigation into an important issue."

"Even though the professional’s
a fool?"

"Correct. Nor do I want you
having to give evidence. That would be a disaster for the client
and
you
." He jabbed a finger at her.

"OK, I understand."

He sighed. "Even if we identify
the other lover, we’ll still have to show he had a motive and
opportunity to kill Alice."

"Yeah. But what if we can?"

A grin. "Then I'll make some
very nasty accusations about him."

"OK." She wondered if she should
mention "Richard Olsen". Brian would probably regard her suspicions
about the pseudonymous author as crackpot. Yet, she couldn’t stop
herself. "And there’s another potential suspect?"

"Who?"

As briefly as possible, she
described what she’d learnt about "Richard Olsen" and his missing
manuscript.

Brian looked annoyed. "So what?
Alice handled a novelist too shy to use his own name. What’s that
got to do with her death?"

"Maybe he murdered her?"

Brian’s eyebrows fluttered.
"You’re kidding, right?"

"No, I’m serious. I mean, it’s
rather strange, isn’t it, that this novelist, who hasn’t written
anything for several years, suddenly sends a new manuscript to
Alice, just before she gets killed. Then the manuscript goes
missing."

Brian shook his head. "It
doesn’t sound strange to me. It just sounds like you're
over-interpreting some unrelated events. Co-incidences happen, you
know? That's why we've got a word for them."

"OK. But don’t forget that Alice
told this guy - who was infatuated with her - that his novel needed
a lot of work. That must have really stung. Or maybe he killed her
to protect his identity."

"Both motives sound
ludicrous."

"Murderers often do crazy
things."

A shrug. "True."

She frowned. "You’re not
interested in this angle, are you? You don’t want to unmask Richard
Olsen?"

"No, I don’t."

Another frown. "Well, I’m still
waiting for you to come up with a brilliant strategy - indeed, any
strategy - to win this case. At the moment, all Rex has got is a
piss-weak alibi. Unless we come up with another culprit, damn fast,
he’ll be sniffing other guys' B.O. for the rest of his life."

"Don’t worry. I’ll think of
something. Just don't go off on a wild-goose chase. We’ve got to
focus our energy."

"Energy? You haven’t used any
energy at all."

"Yes I have. But you've
obviously used too much. Like I said, don’t get emotionally
involved."

"What do you mean, ‘emotionally
involved’?"

"I mean, don’t start liking him
too much."

Jesus, he sounded jealous again.
The presumptuous bastard was acting as if he owned a part of her.
She wanted to kick him in the shins, hard.

"Look, I’m just trying to get
him acquitted, OK? That’s all. Nothing more. He’s just a
client."

A frown. "Good. Then there’s no
problem, is there?"

"No."

"Fine, then I’ll see you on
Monday morning to start preparing for the hearing."

He paused and looked like he
wanted to say something important. Instead, she stomped out the
door.

On Monday morning, Robyn headed
for Brian’s room, to start their final preparation for the Markham
trial, now just a week away. Her stomach knotted. She probably
wouldn’t have to say anything during the trial, unless Brian fell
under a bus. But that was a possibility and the stakes were huge.
When the trial was a long way off, she’d fantasized about making a
big impact, maybe even saving their client’s skin. Now she just
wanted to avoid making an idiot of herself. Please God, grant that
wish.

Brian sat behind his desk,
flicking through the brief. He looked up and smiled brightly. "Hi.
Now we earn our money."

His coolness calmed her nerves.
He was right in the firing line; if he could stay composed, so
could she.

They spent the next two days
carefully analyzing the prosecution’s witness statements,
identifying any inadmissible evidence - there wasn’t much - and
discussing possible lines of cross-examination.

Then Brian leaned back in his
chair and outlined his strategy. "You know, I’d love to point the
finger of blame at someone else. But we don’t have a good
candidate. So I’ll just keep hammering the prosecution’s high
burden of proof. Unless the jury
totally
disbelieves the
alibi evidence of Rex and Grimble, they must acquit."

"You think that’ll work?"

He shrugged. "There’s a
chance."

"A
good
chance?"

"Won’t say that."

On Wednesday, with Bernie
Roberts present, they re-interviewed their client, taking him back
and forward over his evidence, making it fresh in his mind and
giving him a chance to explain any inconsistencies.

Rex was understandably nervous.
Yet, Robyn also sensed some relief that he’d soon know his
fate.

The next day they re-interviewed
Hugh Grimble, who stuck firmly to his story. However, he got
annoyed when Brian, after giving him a few tips about how to
conduct himself in the witness box, casually suggested Grimble not
wear his bowtie.

"Why not?"

"I’m afraid most jurors don’t
really understand men who wear bowties."

Grimble frowned. "Well, I’m
wearing it. I feel naked without it."

Brian frowned back, and
shrugged. "Fair enough. Up to you."

Grimble left and Brian muttered,
"Tosser".

On Friday, with Bernie Roberts
again present, the barristers interviewed the four friends of Rex
Markham who were going to give character evidence. They were a
famous historical novelist, the headmaster of a GPS School, a
merchant banker and the sports reporter, Tim Nolan. All spoke
highly of Rex and said they couldn’t believe he’d murder anyone,
let alone his wife.

Robyn found the novelist, Dudley
Kline, the most interesting. Balding and pot-bellied, he’d written
numerous novels about Australia’s colonial past. The latest, about
Ned Kelly, won a swag of literary prizes.

After the barristers satisfied
themselves that Kline would be a good witness for the defence, they
chatted for a while about Ned Kelly, whom Kline had portrayed as a
psychopathic killer with no redeeming qualities - a controversial
depiction that many regarded as treason.

When Brian slipped out of the
room to answer an urgent telephone call, Robyn seized the chance to
ask Kline if he’d read Richard Olsen’s novel,
Waiting for
Rain
.

Kline smiled. "Of course.
Brilliant novel. Absolutely brilliant."

"Richard Olsen’s a pseudonym -
did you know that?"

"Of course. I think that’s even
mentioned on the back cover."

"But Alice Markham knew his real
identity."

"I know. In fact, I once chatted
with her about Olsen."

"Really? Did she tell you his
real name?"

Kline laughed. "Afraid not."

"Damn. So who do you think he
is?"

"If I had to guess, I’d pick
Rex."

"Why?"

"There aren’t many novelists
around with the talent to write
Waiting for Rain
. I think
Rex is one of the few."

"But why write under a
pseudonym?"

"Isn’t it obvious?

"Not to me."

"Because, like most novelists,
Rex writes in a genre ghetto. In his case, it’s political
thrillers. Nobody expects him to write a profound work about the
human condition. So if
Waiting for Rain
appeared under his
own name, nobody would take it seriously. That’s why he used a
pseudonym."

"I asked Rex if he’s Richard
Olsen and he denied it."

Kline giggled. "Did he? Well, he
would, wouldn’t he? I mean, why use a pseudonym if you’re just
going to roll over and confess? Anyone who uses a pseudonym is
entitled to lie about it." Kline put his hands on his belly and
smiled. "And don’t forget, novelists are good at lying: we do it
for a living."

The last character witness they
interviewed was Rex Markham’s close friend, Tim Nolan. The three
lawyers had met him before, when he accompanied Rex to the
inspection of the murder scene.

Robyn had also met his wife,
Beverley. So, when they shook hands, she said: "You know, I’ve met
your wife."

"Bev? Really?"

"Yes, at Grimble & Co."

"That so? She didn’t mention
that."

It soon became obvious that Tim
Nolan would be a good character witness because, though he liked
Alice, he was happy to claim Rex would not have murdered her.

Brian then chatted with Nolan
about the Australian cricket team’s chances on the forthcoming
Ashes tour of England. Robyn was mildly interested in cricket, but
Brian, who attended an expensive private school which he never
really left, was a tragic case. She let the boys connect.

After Nolan left, Robyn suddenly
recalled her last conversation with Beverley. Something that
puzzled Robyn about it now made sense.

She turned to Brian and Bernie.
"You know, I haven’t mentioned it before, but Beverley Nolan is the
person who told me that Alice had an affair with Terry
Torkhill."

Brian shrugged. "Really?"

"Yes. Beverley knew about it
because
Alice
told her."

Brian frowned. "Yeah. So
what?"

"Well, Alice
only
told
Beverley about her affair with Terry Torkhill. She didn’t mentioned
her
second
affair."

"And, your point is?"

"Why did Alice tell Beverley
about her first lover, but not her second?"

Brian's frown deepened. "I’m
sure you’re going to tell us."

"I am. Alice didn’t tell
Beverley about her second lover, because Beverley would have got
very, very upset if she knew his identity."

"Why?"

"Isn’t it obvious? Alice's
second lover was Tim Nolan,
Beverley’s husband
."

Brian frowned. "I think you’re
jumping to conclusions."

"No, I’m not. It makes perfect
sense."

"OK. Let’s assume you’re right
and Alice was bonking Tim. Where does that get us? We can’t prove
he had either a motive or opportunity to kill her. In fact, we’ve
got absolutely no idea where he was on the night of the
murder."

"I know. That’s why I should
have another chat with Beverley."

Brian frowned. "No, don’t do
that."

"Why not?"

"Because it’s not your job. I
want you to focus on the trial. Leave the poking around to Bernie
and his private detective."