MURDER BRIEF (23 page)

Brian Davis woke the next
morning in the grip of two novel emotions: guilt and remorse. He
hadn’t cried since he was a kid, but almost did now.

God. What had happened to him?
He usually didn’t care about losing a woman. He’d dumped and been
dumped many times without giving a shit. But Robyn was the most
exciting woman he’d dated and, having passed forty, he finally
wanted to settle down and have kids.

He felt a huge tug of self-pity.
Jesus. He’d cheated on plenty of women and got away with it. So why
now, when he really cared about one, did he get caught? So unfair.
In a way, he was a victim of his attractiveness. Women like
Patricia kept throwing themselves at him. So what was he supposed
to do? Say no? What sane man would do that?

He spent his days representing
murderers, rapists and drug dealers. Compared with their crimes,
cheating on Robyn was a tiny moral lapse. Yet she’d treated it like
a major criminal offence.

However, there was no point
bemoaning his bad luck. He had to decide his next move.

A loud inner voice told him to
forget about Robyn and move on. She’d never take him back. Why
subject himself to more pain and embarrassment?

But a shrill heckler in the back
of his head yelled that he should, at least, try to win her back.
He wouldn’t offer any excuses: just accept his guilt, apologise and
ask for clemency.

Brian’s natural optimism
reasserted itself. Robyn was angry right now. That was
understandable. But she was too smart to dump him permanently. He
had too much to offer. She’d eventually forgive him.

Even so, maybe he should back
off for a while and let her cool down. No. The sooner he put his
charm to work - showed her what she was losing - the better. So
when he got to work, he dropped his briefcase on his desk and
caught a lift up to Fisher Chambers. If he announced his presence,
she might refuse to see him. So he ignored the receptionist and
headed for her room, nerves jangling worse than before his first
murder trial.

Her door was open. His doubts
returned. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to talk to her. After a
long hesitation, he stepped through the doorway, half hoping she
wouldn’t be there. But she was, at her desk, reading a law report.
Shit. His throat went dry.

He coughed and shuffled towards
her desk. "Umm, hi."

She looked up and scowled. "You!
What the hell do you want?"

He expected a frosty reception,
but not her gorgon expression; he talked quickly, like a salesman
through a screen door. "Umm, I want to chat? I think we need to
sort some things out."

She glowered and spat out her
words. "There’s nothing to sort out. Just leave me alone, OK. Get
out, you cheating bastard."

"Can’t we talk like adults?"

"No, because you’re just a
pathetic child."

He spread his arms imploringly.
"Look, I’m sorry about what happened. I really am. What I did was,
well, wrong." Boy, that sounded weak. Maybe he should have thought
more about what he was going to say. "No, no, unforgivable. But,
believe me, I’ve learnt my lesson. I really have."

She leaned forward, still
scowling. "Really? And so have I. I’ve learnt you’re a lousy
cheating piece of shit. I’ll despise you until my dying day. Got
that? Or do you want it in writing?"

Hell. She definitely hadn’t
calmed down since last night. Shit. Maybe she really wouldn’t take
him back; maybe this approach was a huge mistake.

"But Robyn …"

She leaned forward. "In fact, if
you don’t leave me alone, I’ll report you to the Bar
Association."

That shocked him. "Report me?
For what?"

"Sexual harassment."

A shiver ran through his body.
These days that was like being accused of murder or paedophilia. A
definite career-wrecker. "You’re kidding?"

"No. And believe me, if I do,
you’ll be stuffed. The Ethics Committee will hang you out to dry.
They’d love to nail a top silk for sexual harassment and look
noble."

Shit. Surely she was joking.
"You’d do that to me?"

"You bet. So leave me
alone."

He’d vowed not to get angry, no
matter what. But he hadn’t expected such rudeness. Despite the
offence he had caused, she should remember he was a silk and show
him some respect. He considered telling her that, but sensed she
would not understand. "You’re not being fair, you know. You should
be grateful I got you the brief in the Markham matter."

Her forehead buckled. "Listen,
you miserable bastard. The only reason you got me that brief was
because you wanted to sleep with me. And now you’re pissed off
because your shabby little plan has backfired. You’re pathetic -
truly pathetic."

Brian realized he’d charged
headlong into a
cul de sac
. He tried to back out. "I think
we’re getting off track. Please just forgive me for what I did. I
beg you. I mean, I made a mistake."

She rose to her feet and
screamed. "It was more than just a mistake, you fucking egomaniac.
You cheated on me.
Comprendre?
So get out and leave me
alone."

If she owned a gun he’d
obviously be dead right now. His natural optimism dried up. She
wouldn’t take him back - not in this life anyway. The damage was
irreparable. He showed his palms. "OK. OK. I’ll leave you
alone."

"Great."

He wanted to say something
dramatic and noble before leaving, but nothing suitable crossed his
mind. "Well, ah, goodbye."

He strode out the door,
shoulders square to prove he was bloodied but unbowed. Yet his guts
were churning. He’d never received such a savage emotional kicking.
Finding love and losing it was fucking hard on the nerves. He vowed
to never fall in love again.

But what if he couldn’t honour
that vow? What if, having sampled love, he was now addicted and
would keep searching for another fix? A voice deep inside him said
he wasn’t an addict. But it didn't sound very confident.

As Brian departed, Robyn was
incandescent with rage. The sleazy bastard had demanded that
she
be grateful to
him
. Jesus.

She never wanted to see him
again. Never. Nobody cheated on her and got away with it,
particularly a repeat offender like him. He wasn’t the right man
for her and never would be. Lucky she found out now.

That night she slept
surprisingly well and, the next morning, riding a train to work,
felt strong enough to convene a Royal Commission into her love
life. What lessons had she learnt from this latest debacle?

The most obvious was that she
kept going out with the wrong sort of guy. She seemed attracted to
brash, ambitious types incapable of real commitment. Maybe she
should stop dating good-looking bastards and find someone less
exciting, but solid and dependable. Seemed worth a try.

However, unfortunately,
dependable types usually got snapped up fast and stayed off the
market. The only man who sprung to mind was Gary Monaghan who,
Silvia claimed, was keen on her. He was smart, polite, good-natured
and very dull. But right now his dullness was a plus. And maybe
there was more to him than met the eye. Surely there had to be.

However, assessing Gary was
pointless, because it was much too early to dive back into a
relationship. She needed to lick her wounds for a while.

When she reached Fisher
Chambers, she saw that Silvia’s door was open. She stepped through
it and found Silvia on the phone, talking in a low growl. "Listen
Ted, I sent you my bill almost six months ago and I still haven’t
been paid …Yeah? Well, we’ve all got financial problems and, quite
frankly, I rank mine a lot higher than yours … Yeah, well, if I
don’t get paid in the next few weeks I’ll sue you … Oh, yes, I
will."

Silvia slammed down the phone
and saw Robyn. "Oh, hi."

"Cripes. That sounded pretty
heavy."

Silvia waved dismissively. "Oh,
that? Just doing some debt-collecting. Sometimes you’ve got to yell
at solicitors or you never get paid."

"Aren’t you worried he won’t
brief you again?"

"If he won’t pay me, I don’t
want his briefs." Silvia leaned back. "What’s happening?"

"I’ve got some bad news."

"What?"

Robyn dropped onto the chair
facing Silvia. "I’ve broken up with Brian."

Silvia’s eyes widened and she
leaned forward. "Hell. That was quick. What happened?"

Robyn desperately wanted to
unburden herself to her good buddy, Silvia. "I found him in a
compromising position with another woman." Why the
circumlocutions?

Silvia frowned. "Really?"

"Yeah. They were both in his
room, almost naked."

"Shit," Silvia snickered.

Robyn glared at her. "It’s not
funny."

"True. But what did you expect?
That’s who he is, I’m afraid."

"I thought he’d change; he said
he'd change."

"Ha. After he dies, he'll rise
from the grave to chase women."

"You did try to warn me."

"Yep." Silvia’s tough features
softened. "But we live and learn. How’re you coping?"

"Still a bit shell-shocked. But
I’ll be alright. In fact, I can see a silver lining to all this. He
obviously wasn’t right for me, so it’s good we broke up before I
got in too deep."

"Yeah. Lucky you saw his black
heart before marriage and kids." Silvia reached into her bottom
drawer. "Anyway, let’s have a drink to drown your sorrows."

Christ, it was still breakfast
time. Silvia really had a problem.

"Oh, no, not right now. Too
early. I’ve got work to do."

Silvia straightened up, without
a bottle. "Fair enough. Drop back in after work. We’ll get
plastered and bitch about men."

"OK. You know, next time, I
think I’ll go out with someone plain and boring."

"Sounds like a good idea."

For some reason, Gary popped
into her head again. "Maybe someone like Gary Monaghan."

A rueful smile. "Oh, so you’re
interested in him now, are you?"

"No, definitely not. I don’t
want to rush back into a relationship. But he seems rather
nice."

Silvia frowned. "He is, and he
was
keen on you. But I think he’s found someone else."

Robyn’s stomach lurched with
surprising force. "Oh?"

"Yes. He mentioned that he’s
been dating someone from the Crown Solicitor’s office."

A shrug. "Oh, well."

Silvia’s smile broadened. "But
at least you’re starting to think straight about men."

"Thanks." Robyn edged towards
the door.

"And don’t forget to come around
after work and we’ll get shit-faced."

"I will."

Robyn left the room feeling
depressed. Since her triumph in the Markham case, Brian had cheated
on her and Gary Monaghan had disappeared from her list of potential
partners, leaving it empty. She still wasn't sure Gary was
suitable. But it would have been nice to have the option of finding
out. Indeed, his sudden unavailability was particularly annoying
because he probably had few women chasing after him.

However, maybe she was lucky to
miss out on him. True, he seemed rather decent. But he was also a
barrister. So under his mild-mannered exterior there probably
lurked an Olympic-standard egomaniac. She would take a breather
from men for a while. And when she returned to the fray, no
barristers need apply.

To boost her spirits, back in
her room, she went on-line and booked two tickets to the Shy Boys’
first concert in Sydney. She’d find someone to go with, even if it
was Veronica.

Despite working phenomenally
long hours at a legal fee factory, Veronica often went out on
week-nights. But for the next fortnight the frequency climbed.
Several times, Robyn casually asked where she was going. The first
time, Veronica said she was meeting some friends at a pub. The next
two times she said she was meeting a new boyfriend called "Alex"
for dinner.

Finally, Robyn said: "What does
he do?"

"Oh, he’s in advertising - a
creative director."

"So you really like him?"

"Oh, yes. He’s very nice."

"Then when will I get to meet
him?"

"Soon, soon. Don’t worry."
Veronica glanced at her watch, said she was late and bolted out the
door.

Robyn sensed Veronica wasn’t
being candid, but didn’t know why. She found out the following
Saturday morning, while pushing a shopping trolley through the
Coles Supermarket in Broadway. She turned a corner and almost
collided with Steve, the partner at Veronica’s law firm with whom
Veronica had been having an affair. He wore jeans and a white
T-shirt. No sign of his wife and kids.

Swerving to avoid him, she said:
"Oops. Sorry Steve."

"No problems."

They both stopped. Robyn felt
uncomfortable: it was hard to know how to deal with someone having
an affair with a friend. Was he also a friend? She hoped not.

Robyn said: "You haven’t dropped
in to see Veronica for a while?"

"No. We’ve both been busy. She’s
also seeing some guy - but I suppose you know that."

"You mean Alex?"

"Alex? I thought his name was
Brian - Brian, the barrister. She’s very excited about him." He
shrugged. "Maybe she’s seeing two guys. I wouldn’t be
surprised."

Robyn’s heart lurched. The
little cow. Veronica had always liked Brian, who was just the sort
of wealthy and successful guy she was always hunting. Robyn had
even caught her flirting with him a few times. So it was easy to
believe that, with him back in play, Veronica went in hot
pursuit.

Should Robyn be offended? Was
Veronica entitled to chase after her ex-boyfriend? Or was she
treacherously profiting from Robyn’s misery and comforting the
enemy? Surely, the latter was true.

Robyn composed herself.
"Actually, she hasn’t told me about Brian yet. How long’s she been
seeing him?"