Endgame, page 12
‘The pain has reduced from a roar to a dull growl,’ I replied.
‘Let me see it,’ she said.
‘Later. Can you carry on?’ I asked, retrieving my makeshift spade.
Pause. At first I thought Libby was going to argue, but with a sigh she picked up her slat of wood.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Let’s keep digging.’
It was slow going. Somehow I’d got it into my head that, after an hour, the hole would be deep enough to stand in. I shook my head at our pitiful excavations so far.
I glanced at Libby. She was still digging, but the expression on her face spoke volumes.
‘Let’s play Truth or Dare,’ I suggested. ‘It’ll help pass the time, unless you’d rather we sing?’
Libby sighed. ‘Truth or Dare it is then.’
‘I’ll start,’ I said quickly. ‘Which one d’you choose?’
Libby considered. ‘Truth.’
‘What’s the one thing you fear the most?’ I asked.
‘Wow! Start with an easy one.’ Libby raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean apart from being kidnapped and locked in a basement with a smelly bucket, no food and very little water?’
‘Yeah, apart from that,’ I agreed with a flash of a smile.
Pause. ‘Dying alone.’
Long moments passed as Libby and I looked at each other.
‘That’s not gonna happen,’ I told her.
‘Why not?’
‘Because.’
Libby was unimpressed. ‘Is that all you’ve got?’
She still didn’t get it, did she? We were in this together. ‘Dying is bad enough, but dying alone … That’s too lonely. No one should have to go like that.’
‘Sometimes you don’t get to choose,’ said Libby. ‘Sometimes you just— Oh God, I’m sorry, Troy. You’re thinking about your dad, aren’t you? What’s wrong with me? I never get it right.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up.’ I shrugged. ‘And you and me and this situation we’re in – we sink or swim, fly or fall together. That’s just the way it is.’
Libby nodded. ‘Thanks. So go on then. What d’you fear the most?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to ask me – truth or dare?’
‘Truth or dare?’ Libby said, exasperated.
‘Truth.’
‘For Shaka’s sake, Troy! Why didn’t you just answer my question the first time? What d’you fear the most?’
I thought about not telling the exact truth, but what was the point? ‘Losing my Nana Meggie,’ I said. ‘She’s … she’s not doing too well at the moment. She doesn’t drive any more and she sometimes walks with a stick. It’s like I blinked and she was suddenly old. My other nana, Nana Jasmine, died before I was born.’
‘You and Nana Meggie are very close?’
‘Yeah. The two of us definitely have the most in common in my family,’ I admitted.
‘You’ll just have to cherish every moment you have with her. Make new, happy memories every day you’re with her that’ll last a lifetime,’ said Libby.
Silence.
‘The truth kinda sucks,’ I decided.
‘Welcome to my world,’ Libby agreed.
We carried on digging.
twenty-six. Callie
* * *
A sepia-grey sky threatened rain, and a great deal of it. How I would welcome that. Oh, to sit on this park bench and let the rain caress my face, flowing over me like a waterfall down a cliff. Enough rain to carry me away, along with all my fears and regrets. Whichever way I turned, I was being manipulated. Too many people were trying to label me helpless and treat me like a puppet, and it didn’t sit well. At all.
These were the labels I owned:
Callie Rose Hadley.
Woman.
Dual heritage.
Barrister.
Loyal friend.
Passionate lover.
Gullible fool.
Why didn’t I hate Tobey for what he’d done to me? His first instinct had been to blackmail me into continuing as his defence counsel. That right there told me so much about the man. I should’ve despised the tainted air around him. But I didn’t.
I’d tried. I couldn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. How pathetic was that?
But one thing was certain – when all this was done, I never wanted to see him again. He and I were well and truly over. It had taken me all these years to finally accept what everyone else but me could see. He was rotten. Yeah, that was the word for it – rotten. And when I thought of how he’d used me to ensure my continued support as his lawyer … God, but I was stupid. Tobey was the only person who could reduce me to a giggling schoolgirl. Even when we’d been in bed together, with my piss-poor attempt at banter, I’d acted more like a teen than a grown-ass woman. It was to mask the nervousness I felt in his company. He’d done so much with his life, he’d reached the top, and he still wanted me. Oh God! I couldn’t stop wincing at the memory of how deluded I’d been. Wanted me? Yeah, right.
Tobey Durbridge was a member of Nought Forever.
He said that was all in the past, and those days were behind him, but why then keep the NF tattoo on his chest? Because, even if those days were supposedly long gone, like his shadow, they were still a part of him, no doubt only emerging when in the company of others who thought as he did, but who also managed to keep it well hidden from casual view.
Across the street, children – with what seemed like every heritage represented – yelled and laughed as they ran round the wire-fenced school playground. Their movements were a riot of hats and coats and colour. Impervious to the chill in the air, they delighted in one another’s company. No background, history or connections required. Joy shared is joy doubled, as Nana Meggie always says. Sitting on this bench, with my early-morning coffee warming my hands as I watched the children play, usually made my soul smile – but not today. Envious, I viewed them. All was right in their world. Nothing was right in mine.
Yesterday I’d failed to get the murder charge against Tobey Durbridge dropped.
And, in not backing out of his case, I was so scared I’d signed my brother Troy’s death warrant as well as that of Tobey’s daughter.
What was happening to them at this precise moment?
Were they already dead?
I closed my eyes, feeling physically sick. My imagination was flogging me. It’d been stripping the skin from my back from the moment I made the decision not to bail on Tobey – though every atom of sense in my head screamed at me to do just that.
Tobey Durbridge. Lots of labels for him too …
Ex-lover.
Player.
Manipulator.
Politician.
Blackmailer.
Iceberg.
Murderer?
Had he killed Dan Jeavons? I honestly didn’t know. There was a time when my answer would’ve been an unequivocal ‘of course not’. Not any more. I was almost certain he hadn’t – but that ‘almost’ made bridging the gap to ‘certain’ impossible. What there was no doubt about was that Tobey had a ruthless streak a mile wide. He would allow nothing and no one to get in the way of what he wanted. Including me. But there was no force on earth or beyond that could make me believe that my mum had anything to do with Dan’s death. I didn’t care what Tobey said, or what so-called evidence he reckoned he had. Mum didn’t do it. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Tobey was a son of a bitch to throw that one at me. Yet another example of his ruthlessness.
How ironic then that the qualities I had found abhorrent just a couple of days ago were the exact same ones I was now relying on to find Troy and Liberty and bring them home unscathed. What kind of hypocrite did that make me?
The worst kind.
Before Tobey came back into my life and threw a grenade into the middle of it, I’d had choices. Now my options were severely limited. The moment Tobey metaphorically knocked on my door, I should’ve slammed it in his face. What had I done instead? Fallen into bed with him.
Callie, you’re far too smart to be this damned stupid.
And yet I obviously wasn’t ’cause now look at me.
My career was in tatters.
My personal life was shattered.
And I couldn’t even bear to catch sight of myself in the mirror.
Callie, you had no choice. You couldn’t recuse yourself from being his barrister. You did the right thing—
How many times would I have to replay those words in my head before I started to believe them? Both Tobey and Jon, my private investigator, reckoned that this was a better strategy than immediately giving in to the kidnappers’ demands. As Tobey had pointed out, what possible reason would the captors have for keeping Libby and Troy alive if we immediately gave them what they wanted? If they let Troy and Libby go, either or both of them could identify their abductors right down to their shoe size. And, besides, if I recused myself from being Tobey’s defence counsel today, what was to stop me from taking up his case again once Troy and Libby were home safely? Not a damned thing.
So, though it hurt me to admit it, I agreed with Tobey that it was best to defy the kidnappers’ instructions and hope that still left us some wiggle room. A dodgy strategy, but, apart from going to the police, what other choice did we have? I must admit, my every instinct was still to get them involved, but Tobey reckoned he had too many enemies – political and otherwise – for the situation not to be exploited if it should become public knowledge.
So we were playing the game by his rules.
For now.
Why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I was betraying Troy, as if somehow I was putting Tobey’s career ahead of my brother’s life? If anything happened to Troy, I’d never forgive myself.
Or Tobey.
We’d either bought Troy and Libby more time or we’d signed their death warrants, and dread of the latter was relentlessly choking me. I dug out my phone and made a call.
‘Hi, Callie.’ Tobey answered within two rings.
‘Hello, Tobey. Have you heard anything?’
‘Not yet, but we will,’ he replied. ‘It’s good to hear your voice. Are you OK?’
‘I’m holding on,’ I said. ‘Are you busy? What are you doing at the moment?’
‘I’m thinking of going for a morning run while I wait for Jon to get back to me,’ Tobey replied.
‘Jon? My Jon? He’s doing stuff for you?’
A moment’s pause. ‘Yes, your Jon. Aren’t you the one who sent him to me earlier this morning to help out?’
What? ‘Is that what he told you?’ I asked sharply.
‘Among other things. He knew all about our bust-up in the court building.’
My face began to burn. ‘I didn’t tell him everything—’
‘Just enough.’ The reproach as Tobey cut me off was obvious.
‘Jon is my friend, Tobey. And, apart from my mum, he’s the only person who knows what we’re going through. He’s been totally supportive.’ I bristled, on the defensive and not keen on how that felt. Jon had provided some much-needed perspective, plus he’d been a shoulder to cry on. I really wasn’t wild he’d been to Tobey but I’d deal with that later. Right now, we all needed as much help as we could get.
‘Anyway, Jon is running a couple of errands for me. I hope you don’t mind?’ said Tobey.
‘Of course not. Are you going to tell me what exactly?’
‘I will if it pans out. Trust me.’
Silence. Tobey obviously wasn’t going to divulge any more so, with an inner sigh, I headed back to neutral territory.
‘So you’re going for a jog?’ I asked at last.
‘I run. I never jog,’ said Tobey with feeling.
‘And you can run at a time like this?’
‘What would you have me do? Sit and stare at the four walls? A number of people are out doing for me. Until we get feedback, we can’t take the next step. That’s why I need to go out, and running helps me think.’
I sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Tobey. I’m worried and on edge, but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on you.’
‘If you can get here soon, you could come for a run with me,’ Tobey suggested. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Pfft! Me? Run? Why on earth would I do that?’ I asked, bemused.
‘For the same reason I do – to stay fit and to clear your head.’
‘To get all sweaty and smelly? Tobey, I will run if – and only if – something with sharp teeth or someone with an axe is chasing me and not until then.’
Tobey chuckled. ‘All right. Message received.’
‘Besides, I can think of other ways to stay fit,’ I said, casting my mind back to my regular tennis matches with friends from chambers. Playing a game to compete and challenge yourself had a point and a purpose. Running and circuit training, nah!
‘I can think of other ways too,’ said Tobey, the silky tone of his voice making my face flame.
‘I’m not touching that one,’ I told him.
‘Spoilsport!’
‘Tobey, I’m on my way to chambers,’ I said firmly. ‘Promise you’ll phone me as soon as you have some news?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’ll be the first to hear. D’you want to know one of the many things I love about you, Callie?’
‘Go on then,’ I said, ignoring the hyperbole.
‘You’re one of the few people in my life who speaks to me like a normal human being without taking a detour to kiss my arse first. It’s refreshing.’
‘You’re an idiot!’ I disconnected the call, smiling faintly.
In spite of everything that was going on, and everything that had just run through my mind about Tobias Durbridge, he could still make me smile. I glanced down at my watch. Lingering on this park bench was no longer an option. In less than an hour, I had an early meeting with my head of chambers, Sol Camden, and I was a hair’s breadth away from being unceremoniously bounced out of my job. Yesterday, in court, Sol had positively radiated disapproval. My rising golden star was now lead and falling fast.
With one last look at the children in the playground, I stood and started walking. The bag draped over one shoulder grew heavier with each step I took towards my car. Not for the first time today, I wished I’d tied my braided hair back into a ponytail instead of letting it fall loose round my shoulders. Everything was working my nerves today, even my hair. It was one of those days when I felt I was fifteen degrees out from everyone else, when nothing was quite aligned.
‘Ms Hadley, I’m Ade Udo. We’ve met before. I’m a journalist with the Okene Standard. May I ask you a few questions?’
I spun round to confront the man behind me. Adeyemi Udo. Our paths had crossed before to the mutual dissatisfaction of us both. Ade wore his designer fade with the same poise that he wore his off-the-rack suit. His clothes, his haircut, his demeanour were all meant to give off a man-of-the-people, sympathetic air, but I knew better. This Cross was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth and had spent his entire career sniffing out stories and hounding interviewees like they should be grateful for the attention. He wasn’t above spinning the truth for juicy clickbait either. He was about my age with a chiselled face that was all angles. His dark brown eyes sparked with an alert gleam that currently bordered on hungry. That made him dangerous.
My mouth said, ‘No, Mr Udo, you may not.’ My thoughts said, Bugger off! I turned away and carried on walking.
Uninvited, Adeyemi fell into step next to me. Irritated, I glared at him, but it was water off a duck’s butt.
‘Ms Hadley, do you believe in equal justice for all?’
Like I couldn’t see where this was going. ‘No comment.’
‘You have a reputation for integrity and scrupulous fairness,’ Ade continued. ‘How do you square that with the suppression of the public’s right to know about the charges against Tobias Durbridge? The man who runs the country is a criminal and you’re making sure that we in the media can’t report that fact.’
I stopped and turned to fully face him, my gaze narrowing.
‘Now you listen to me, Mr Udo,’ I said softly. He moved in closer to hear my words, waving his smartphone under my nose so he could record every word. ‘In this country, the law states that a person is innocent until proven guilty, not the other way round. The super-injunction is still in place so, if you try to print otherwise, I will personally see to it that the full force of the law hits you like a heavyweight boxer. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’
‘No, I won’t excuse you,’ said Ade. ‘You lawyers with your suppression of the truth are helping to ensure that there’s one set of rules for the rich and powerful and another set for everyone else.’
‘Happy you got that off your chest, Mr Udo? I have places to be.’ I glared at him, daring him to follow me further. Let him try it.
He got the message and turned to crawl back under whatever toadstool he’d emerged from. I carried on walking, my heels stabbing at the pavement with the brisk pace I set. Bastard! I didn’t need him and his nonsense. Not now. Nearing my car, I pressed the button on my car-key fob. The doors clunked open.
‘Miss Hadley?’
Now what? I spun round. To my surprise, two male, uniformed Cross police officers moved to stand on either side of me. One was my height and stocky, with short locs. The other officer was at least a head taller than his colleague with dark, almost black eyes and a trim precision beard with no moustache.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Are you Callie Rose Hadley?’
‘Yes, I am. Is there a problem?’
‘Miss Hadley, we have a warrant for your arrest,’ said the taller cop.
The words picked me up and dunked me head first into a vat of ice water. Chilled to the bone, I asked, ‘Is this some kind of joke?’
‘I’m afraid not, Miss Hadley,’ said the taller cop doing all the talking.
‘On what charge?’ I asked.
‘Perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand your rights as I have explained them to you?’
Was this guy having a laugh? ‘I’m a lawyer. Of course I understand my rights.’ Dickhead!
‘Let me see it,’ she said.
‘Later. Can you carry on?’ I asked, retrieving my makeshift spade.
Pause. At first I thought Libby was going to argue, but with a sigh she picked up her slat of wood.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Let’s keep digging.’
It was slow going. Somehow I’d got it into my head that, after an hour, the hole would be deep enough to stand in. I shook my head at our pitiful excavations so far.
I glanced at Libby. She was still digging, but the expression on her face spoke volumes.
‘Let’s play Truth or Dare,’ I suggested. ‘It’ll help pass the time, unless you’d rather we sing?’
Libby sighed. ‘Truth or Dare it is then.’
‘I’ll start,’ I said quickly. ‘Which one d’you choose?’
Libby considered. ‘Truth.’
‘What’s the one thing you fear the most?’ I asked.
‘Wow! Start with an easy one.’ Libby raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean apart from being kidnapped and locked in a basement with a smelly bucket, no food and very little water?’
‘Yeah, apart from that,’ I agreed with a flash of a smile.
Pause. ‘Dying alone.’
Long moments passed as Libby and I looked at each other.
‘That’s not gonna happen,’ I told her.
‘Why not?’
‘Because.’
Libby was unimpressed. ‘Is that all you’ve got?’
She still didn’t get it, did she? We were in this together. ‘Dying is bad enough, but dying alone … That’s too lonely. No one should have to go like that.’
‘Sometimes you don’t get to choose,’ said Libby. ‘Sometimes you just— Oh God, I’m sorry, Troy. You’re thinking about your dad, aren’t you? What’s wrong with me? I never get it right.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up.’ I shrugged. ‘And you and me and this situation we’re in – we sink or swim, fly or fall together. That’s just the way it is.’
Libby nodded. ‘Thanks. So go on then. What d’you fear the most?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to ask me – truth or dare?’
‘Truth or dare?’ Libby said, exasperated.
‘Truth.’
‘For Shaka’s sake, Troy! Why didn’t you just answer my question the first time? What d’you fear the most?’
I thought about not telling the exact truth, but what was the point? ‘Losing my Nana Meggie,’ I said. ‘She’s … she’s not doing too well at the moment. She doesn’t drive any more and she sometimes walks with a stick. It’s like I blinked and she was suddenly old. My other nana, Nana Jasmine, died before I was born.’
‘You and Nana Meggie are very close?’
‘Yeah. The two of us definitely have the most in common in my family,’ I admitted.
‘You’ll just have to cherish every moment you have with her. Make new, happy memories every day you’re with her that’ll last a lifetime,’ said Libby.
Silence.
‘The truth kinda sucks,’ I decided.
‘Welcome to my world,’ Libby agreed.
We carried on digging.
twenty-six. Callie
* * *
A sepia-grey sky threatened rain, and a great deal of it. How I would welcome that. Oh, to sit on this park bench and let the rain caress my face, flowing over me like a waterfall down a cliff. Enough rain to carry me away, along with all my fears and regrets. Whichever way I turned, I was being manipulated. Too many people were trying to label me helpless and treat me like a puppet, and it didn’t sit well. At all.
These were the labels I owned:
Callie Rose Hadley.
Woman.
Dual heritage.
Barrister.
Loyal friend.
Passionate lover.
Gullible fool.
Why didn’t I hate Tobey for what he’d done to me? His first instinct had been to blackmail me into continuing as his defence counsel. That right there told me so much about the man. I should’ve despised the tainted air around him. But I didn’t.
I’d tried. I couldn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. How pathetic was that?
But one thing was certain – when all this was done, I never wanted to see him again. He and I were well and truly over. It had taken me all these years to finally accept what everyone else but me could see. He was rotten. Yeah, that was the word for it – rotten. And when I thought of how he’d used me to ensure my continued support as his lawyer … God, but I was stupid. Tobey was the only person who could reduce me to a giggling schoolgirl. Even when we’d been in bed together, with my piss-poor attempt at banter, I’d acted more like a teen than a grown-ass woman. It was to mask the nervousness I felt in his company. He’d done so much with his life, he’d reached the top, and he still wanted me. Oh God! I couldn’t stop wincing at the memory of how deluded I’d been. Wanted me? Yeah, right.
Tobey Durbridge was a member of Nought Forever.
He said that was all in the past, and those days were behind him, but why then keep the NF tattoo on his chest? Because, even if those days were supposedly long gone, like his shadow, they were still a part of him, no doubt only emerging when in the company of others who thought as he did, but who also managed to keep it well hidden from casual view.
Across the street, children – with what seemed like every heritage represented – yelled and laughed as they ran round the wire-fenced school playground. Their movements were a riot of hats and coats and colour. Impervious to the chill in the air, they delighted in one another’s company. No background, history or connections required. Joy shared is joy doubled, as Nana Meggie always says. Sitting on this bench, with my early-morning coffee warming my hands as I watched the children play, usually made my soul smile – but not today. Envious, I viewed them. All was right in their world. Nothing was right in mine.
Yesterday I’d failed to get the murder charge against Tobey Durbridge dropped.
And, in not backing out of his case, I was so scared I’d signed my brother Troy’s death warrant as well as that of Tobey’s daughter.
What was happening to them at this precise moment?
Were they already dead?
I closed my eyes, feeling physically sick. My imagination was flogging me. It’d been stripping the skin from my back from the moment I made the decision not to bail on Tobey – though every atom of sense in my head screamed at me to do just that.
Tobey Durbridge. Lots of labels for him too …
Ex-lover.
Player.
Manipulator.
Politician.
Blackmailer.
Iceberg.
Murderer?
Had he killed Dan Jeavons? I honestly didn’t know. There was a time when my answer would’ve been an unequivocal ‘of course not’. Not any more. I was almost certain he hadn’t – but that ‘almost’ made bridging the gap to ‘certain’ impossible. What there was no doubt about was that Tobey had a ruthless streak a mile wide. He would allow nothing and no one to get in the way of what he wanted. Including me. But there was no force on earth or beyond that could make me believe that my mum had anything to do with Dan’s death. I didn’t care what Tobey said, or what so-called evidence he reckoned he had. Mum didn’t do it. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Tobey was a son of a bitch to throw that one at me. Yet another example of his ruthlessness.
How ironic then that the qualities I had found abhorrent just a couple of days ago were the exact same ones I was now relying on to find Troy and Liberty and bring them home unscathed. What kind of hypocrite did that make me?
The worst kind.
Before Tobey came back into my life and threw a grenade into the middle of it, I’d had choices. Now my options were severely limited. The moment Tobey metaphorically knocked on my door, I should’ve slammed it in his face. What had I done instead? Fallen into bed with him.
Callie, you’re far too smart to be this damned stupid.
And yet I obviously wasn’t ’cause now look at me.
My career was in tatters.
My personal life was shattered.
And I couldn’t even bear to catch sight of myself in the mirror.
Callie, you had no choice. You couldn’t recuse yourself from being his barrister. You did the right thing—
How many times would I have to replay those words in my head before I started to believe them? Both Tobey and Jon, my private investigator, reckoned that this was a better strategy than immediately giving in to the kidnappers’ demands. As Tobey had pointed out, what possible reason would the captors have for keeping Libby and Troy alive if we immediately gave them what they wanted? If they let Troy and Libby go, either or both of them could identify their abductors right down to their shoe size. And, besides, if I recused myself from being Tobey’s defence counsel today, what was to stop me from taking up his case again once Troy and Libby were home safely? Not a damned thing.
So, though it hurt me to admit it, I agreed with Tobey that it was best to defy the kidnappers’ instructions and hope that still left us some wiggle room. A dodgy strategy, but, apart from going to the police, what other choice did we have? I must admit, my every instinct was still to get them involved, but Tobey reckoned he had too many enemies – political and otherwise – for the situation not to be exploited if it should become public knowledge.
So we were playing the game by his rules.
For now.
Why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I was betraying Troy, as if somehow I was putting Tobey’s career ahead of my brother’s life? If anything happened to Troy, I’d never forgive myself.
Or Tobey.
We’d either bought Troy and Libby more time or we’d signed their death warrants, and dread of the latter was relentlessly choking me. I dug out my phone and made a call.
‘Hi, Callie.’ Tobey answered within two rings.
‘Hello, Tobey. Have you heard anything?’
‘Not yet, but we will,’ he replied. ‘It’s good to hear your voice. Are you OK?’
‘I’m holding on,’ I said. ‘Are you busy? What are you doing at the moment?’
‘I’m thinking of going for a morning run while I wait for Jon to get back to me,’ Tobey replied.
‘Jon? My Jon? He’s doing stuff for you?’
A moment’s pause. ‘Yes, your Jon. Aren’t you the one who sent him to me earlier this morning to help out?’
What? ‘Is that what he told you?’ I asked sharply.
‘Among other things. He knew all about our bust-up in the court building.’
My face began to burn. ‘I didn’t tell him everything—’
‘Just enough.’ The reproach as Tobey cut me off was obvious.
‘Jon is my friend, Tobey. And, apart from my mum, he’s the only person who knows what we’re going through. He’s been totally supportive.’ I bristled, on the defensive and not keen on how that felt. Jon had provided some much-needed perspective, plus he’d been a shoulder to cry on. I really wasn’t wild he’d been to Tobey but I’d deal with that later. Right now, we all needed as much help as we could get.
‘Anyway, Jon is running a couple of errands for me. I hope you don’t mind?’ said Tobey.
‘Of course not. Are you going to tell me what exactly?’
‘I will if it pans out. Trust me.’
Silence. Tobey obviously wasn’t going to divulge any more so, with an inner sigh, I headed back to neutral territory.
‘So you’re going for a jog?’ I asked at last.
‘I run. I never jog,’ said Tobey with feeling.
‘And you can run at a time like this?’
‘What would you have me do? Sit and stare at the four walls? A number of people are out doing for me. Until we get feedback, we can’t take the next step. That’s why I need to go out, and running helps me think.’
I sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Tobey. I’m worried and on edge, but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on you.’
‘If you can get here soon, you could come for a run with me,’ Tobey suggested. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Pfft! Me? Run? Why on earth would I do that?’ I asked, bemused.
‘For the same reason I do – to stay fit and to clear your head.’
‘To get all sweaty and smelly? Tobey, I will run if – and only if – something with sharp teeth or someone with an axe is chasing me and not until then.’
Tobey chuckled. ‘All right. Message received.’
‘Besides, I can think of other ways to stay fit,’ I said, casting my mind back to my regular tennis matches with friends from chambers. Playing a game to compete and challenge yourself had a point and a purpose. Running and circuit training, nah!
‘I can think of other ways too,’ said Tobey, the silky tone of his voice making my face flame.
‘I’m not touching that one,’ I told him.
‘Spoilsport!’
‘Tobey, I’m on my way to chambers,’ I said firmly. ‘Promise you’ll phone me as soon as you have some news?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’ll be the first to hear. D’you want to know one of the many things I love about you, Callie?’
‘Go on then,’ I said, ignoring the hyperbole.
‘You’re one of the few people in my life who speaks to me like a normal human being without taking a detour to kiss my arse first. It’s refreshing.’
‘You’re an idiot!’ I disconnected the call, smiling faintly.
In spite of everything that was going on, and everything that had just run through my mind about Tobias Durbridge, he could still make me smile. I glanced down at my watch. Lingering on this park bench was no longer an option. In less than an hour, I had an early meeting with my head of chambers, Sol Camden, and I was a hair’s breadth away from being unceremoniously bounced out of my job. Yesterday, in court, Sol had positively radiated disapproval. My rising golden star was now lead and falling fast.
With one last look at the children in the playground, I stood and started walking. The bag draped over one shoulder grew heavier with each step I took towards my car. Not for the first time today, I wished I’d tied my braided hair back into a ponytail instead of letting it fall loose round my shoulders. Everything was working my nerves today, even my hair. It was one of those days when I felt I was fifteen degrees out from everyone else, when nothing was quite aligned.
‘Ms Hadley, I’m Ade Udo. We’ve met before. I’m a journalist with the Okene Standard. May I ask you a few questions?’
I spun round to confront the man behind me. Adeyemi Udo. Our paths had crossed before to the mutual dissatisfaction of us both. Ade wore his designer fade with the same poise that he wore his off-the-rack suit. His clothes, his haircut, his demeanour were all meant to give off a man-of-the-people, sympathetic air, but I knew better. This Cross was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth and had spent his entire career sniffing out stories and hounding interviewees like they should be grateful for the attention. He wasn’t above spinning the truth for juicy clickbait either. He was about my age with a chiselled face that was all angles. His dark brown eyes sparked with an alert gleam that currently bordered on hungry. That made him dangerous.
My mouth said, ‘No, Mr Udo, you may not.’ My thoughts said, Bugger off! I turned away and carried on walking.
Uninvited, Adeyemi fell into step next to me. Irritated, I glared at him, but it was water off a duck’s butt.
‘Ms Hadley, do you believe in equal justice for all?’
Like I couldn’t see where this was going. ‘No comment.’
‘You have a reputation for integrity and scrupulous fairness,’ Ade continued. ‘How do you square that with the suppression of the public’s right to know about the charges against Tobias Durbridge? The man who runs the country is a criminal and you’re making sure that we in the media can’t report that fact.’
I stopped and turned to fully face him, my gaze narrowing.
‘Now you listen to me, Mr Udo,’ I said softly. He moved in closer to hear my words, waving his smartphone under my nose so he could record every word. ‘In this country, the law states that a person is innocent until proven guilty, not the other way round. The super-injunction is still in place so, if you try to print otherwise, I will personally see to it that the full force of the law hits you like a heavyweight boxer. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’
‘No, I won’t excuse you,’ said Ade. ‘You lawyers with your suppression of the truth are helping to ensure that there’s one set of rules for the rich and powerful and another set for everyone else.’
‘Happy you got that off your chest, Mr Udo? I have places to be.’ I glared at him, daring him to follow me further. Let him try it.
He got the message and turned to crawl back under whatever toadstool he’d emerged from. I carried on walking, my heels stabbing at the pavement with the brisk pace I set. Bastard! I didn’t need him and his nonsense. Not now. Nearing my car, I pressed the button on my car-key fob. The doors clunked open.
‘Miss Hadley?’
Now what? I spun round. To my surprise, two male, uniformed Cross police officers moved to stand on either side of me. One was my height and stocky, with short locs. The other officer was at least a head taller than his colleague with dark, almost black eyes and a trim precision beard with no moustache.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Are you Callie Rose Hadley?’
‘Yes, I am. Is there a problem?’
‘Miss Hadley, we have a warrant for your arrest,’ said the taller cop.
The words picked me up and dunked me head first into a vat of ice water. Chilled to the bone, I asked, ‘Is this some kind of joke?’
‘I’m afraid not, Miss Hadley,’ said the taller cop doing all the talking.
‘On what charge?’ I asked.
‘Perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand your rights as I have explained them to you?’
Was this guy having a laugh? ‘I’m a lawyer. Of course I understand my rights.’ Dickhead!
