The Killing of Katie Steelstock (22 page)

“He chose
you,
not the firm?”

“Apparently.”

“But it’s the firm that will be on the record.”

“Naturally.”

“Didn’t it occur to you to ask me before you accepted?”

“Frankly,” said Noel, “it didn’t. Because it never occurred to me for a single moment that you might object.”

Mr. Vigors considered this, chewing his upper lip with the teeth in his lower jaw. It was an unconscious trick, but Noel had seen it before and braced himself for trouble.

“Our firm,” said Mr. Vigors, laying stress on the first word, “has built up a very sound practice in and around Hannington. We act for most of the respectable, and respected, families in the neighbourhood. Did you stop for a moment to consider what they would feel when it became known that we were acting for an anarchist, who has already attacked and wounded a policeman?”

“No,” said Noel.

“No?”

“I mean that I didn’t stop for a moment to consider it. It seemed to me to be irrelevant.”

Up to that point father and son had kept their tempers. Regrettably, Mr. Vigors Senior was the first to lose his.

He said, the colour of his face contradicting the smoothness of his voice, “We happen to be a partnership. Not a one-man band. You may have overlooked the fact that in our partnership articles, to which you signed your name when you joined Richard Dibden and myself, there was a clause which stated that any important decisions had to be taken unanimously.”

“No,” said Noel. “I hadn’t overlooked that.”

“Possibly you don’t regard this as an important decision?”

“Extremely important”

“Very well, then—”

“But possibly you may have overlooked the fact that when we set up our sub-office in West Hannington, it was agreed that in everything dealt with from
this
office I was to have an absolute discretion about clients and matters taken on. I may not have got the wording quite accurate, but that was the gist of what we agreed.” Noel paused and added, “In writing.”

His father stared at him. His face, normally pallid, was now scarlet. Since he seemed unwilling, or unable, to say anything, Noel continued: “Since Limbery has specifically applied for
my
help, it can hardly be disputed, I imagine, that it is a matter which comes under this office and in which I exercise my discretion.”

His father said, “You’re determined to go on with this.”

“Yes.”

“And to disregard my very strong personal wishes in the matter.”

“I don’t like doing that. But yes.”

“In that case we can hardly go on as before.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean,” said his father with calculated brutality, “that since you seem to have no regard for me and for what I stand for, we can hardly meet on the same terms as we did. I shall, for instance, find it embarrassing to share a house with you.”

“I’m glad you raised the point,” said Noel. “I meant to tell you before. Georgie and I are expecting an addition to our family. We may have to have resident help, for a time anyway. It would be much more convenient if you could find somewhere else to live. I’m sure you understand.”

His father looked at him for some seconds and then swung around and left the room without a word.

“Did you
have
to do it?” said Georgie that evening.

“I couldn’t see any way round it.”

“It was a bit rough.”

They were close together, sharing, as they sometimes did, a dilapidated armchair. Noel put his arm around her and said, “You’ve got to understand this. The alternative was letting Jonathan try to defend himself. If he was allowed to do that, examine the witnesses, address the court, can you imagine any sort of justice being done at the end of the da”I suppose not.”

“I’m going up to London tomorrow to see our London agents. We’re going to brief the best barrister money can buy. And we’re going to get at the truth of this matter, if it costs me every bloody friend I’ve got.”

“Have you ever sold anyone a Crossfield Electric?” said Sergeant Esdaile to Mr. Plumptree, who kept the business machinery and equipment store in Reading.

“Dozens of them,” said Mr. Plumptree. “Two or three years ago – before the fashion for golf balls got going, that is – it was one of the most popular machines on the market.”

“And you’ve got records of who you sold them to?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I looked at my purchase and sale cards and compared them with my stock cards, I could tell you how many I sold in any one year. It would take a bit of research, but I could do it all right. But that doesn’t mean I could say
who
I sold them to. I never had any call to keep that sort of information.”

“I suppose you don’t remember selling one to anyone in these parts. In Hannington, for instance.”

“Not offhand I don’t. I’ll think about it and I’ll have a word with my lads. If I find out anything I’ll let you know.”

“Well, ta,” said Sergeant Esdaile gloomily.

Friday morning found Noel Vigors in London. He went from Paddington Station by Underground to Covent Garden and walked to Norway Court, where Messrs. Crakenshaw, Solicitors and Commissioners for Oaths, had their office. It was within a stone’s throw of Bow Street Magistrates Court, where they did much of their business.

The Crakenshaws were the London agents of Vigors and Dibden. Noel had written to them and spoken to them on the telephone, but this was the first time he had been to see them. He was received by Simon Crakenshaw, who was about Noel’s age but looked much older, being prematurely bald.

He said, “I read all about it in the papers. I was hoping you’d get involved and rope us in. Tell me all about it.”

Noel did his best. He said, “I am a bit worried about the financial side of it. Limbery really hasn’t got any money. No capital at all, as far as I know, and a very small income from that paper of his, and a lot of that goes to his mother.”

“Dependent relative?” said Crakenshaw.

“I suppose she is, yes.”

“Then don’t worry about the money side. The poorer he is the better. We’ll apply for legal aid. We ought to get a full certificate. Minimum contribution.”

“Will it cover leading council?”

“Certificate for two council? Certainly. The committee will be falling over themselves to help. Charge of murder. Man with no money. The sky’s the limit.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Noel, “because I’ve a feeling we’re going to need the sky.”

Crakenshaw said, “If Knott’s running the case you’re going to need to pull out all the stops.” He thought about the matter for a few moments. He said, “I think Mrs. Bellamy would be our best bet.”

“Serena Bellamy? I’ve seen a lot about her in newspaper reports. Do you think we could get her?”

“She’s the top of the tree. But I think we might. And I’ll tell you why. She loathes Knott. They’ve had one or two fights in court already. If she sees half a chance of putting him down she’ll jump at it. Murder cases aren’t quite the glamorous occasions they used to be when there was a gallows at the end of the road, but they still grab the headlines and no council objects to a bit more of that, however well known they are.”

“I see,” said Noel. He found Crakenshaw’s professional outlook both alarming and reassuring. “She’ll find Limbery a very awkward character to deal with.”

“She won’t be dealing with him,” said Crakenshaw. “It’s you and I who have to do all that. She won’t talk to him. She’ll steer totally clear of him until they face each other in court”

“Why on earth—?”

“What she says is that it enables her to view the case dispassionately. It’s also a complete answer to any suggestion of professional misconduct. No one can accuse her of suggesting a phony line of defence to the prisoner if she hasn’t even seen him, can they?”

“But they might accuse us—”

“They might. But since we’re not going to deviate one inch from the straight and narrow it doesn’t arise. We’ve found that it’s much better to stick to the rules. I know there are firms that don’t. I don’t believe it pays them in the long run. And once you get a name for it the police can be real sods.”

“I see,” said Noel. He was beginning to realise that ten years of conveyancing and probate mixed with occasional motoring offences might have presented him with a one-sided view of legal practice. “What do we do next?”

“I’ll give you the legal aid forms to fill in. Limbery will have to sign a declaration of means. Then we’ll have a word with Mrs. Bellamy’s head clerk. It’s Friday now. She won’t be able to see us before Monday. And you say the committal proceedings are fixed for Monday week.”

“So I’m told.”

“That’s Knott all over. Rush the opposition off its feet. Well, we can always apply for an adjournment.”

Ten minutes later, Noel found himself out in Norway Court again. He was conscious of a feeling of breathlessness.

“I’ve established,” said Sergeant Shilling, “that Katie went up to town that Friday morning. She called on her agent, Mark Holbeck. Incidentally, I think he ought to have mentioned the fact to me when I was talking to him. Perhaps it slipped his memory.”

Knott grunted.

“However, he remembered it when I put it to him. Apparently she only looked in for five minutes around midday. She told him she had a lunch date with Venetia – you know, the A.C.’s daughter.”

Knott grunted again.

“I had a word with Venetia. After lunch they seem to have gone out on a shopping spree together. They had tea at Venetia’s house and Katie pushed off saying she’d be just in time to catch the she twenty and she’d better not miss it, because she’d promised to go to a ghastly local hop and if she came in late everyone would think she was trying to put on an act.”

“Shrewd thinking,” said Knott. “When does the six twenty get to Hannington?”

“It doesn’t. You have to change at Reading and get the slow train. That’s scheduled to reach Hannington at ten past seven. Which it did. I’ve checked.”

“Then she’d be home by half past?”

“She’d have to extract her car from the station car park, which takes some doing, as it’s small and the cars are pretty well jammed together. But if she went straight home, she’d certainly be there by half past. Then, I imagine, bath and change.”

“Eat?”

“Probably not. If she had a good lunch. There were refreshments at the dance.”

Knott thought about it. It seemed straightforward. The connection with the Loftus girl might be tricky. On the other hand, if he pulled off this one it must do him a bit of good in quarters that mattered. He realised that Shilling had something else to tell him.

He said, “While I was at it I found out that Limbery was in Reading that morning. Mariner told me. He was there, too. He’s still a consultant with his firm and goes up occasionally. Actually they were on the same train, both ways.”

“Times?”

“Eight forty up. Two fifty back. Mariner first class, Limbery second. But even if they’d been in the same carriage I don’t imagine they’d have chatted to each other.”

“No love lost there,” agreed Knott.

He was visualising Hannington Station, which he had already inspected. The opening in front of the nineteenth-century station building and the cramped car park to the left of it packed with commuters’ cars. He said, “I imagine Limbery drove to the station?”

“We know he did.”

“How?”

“Because Mariner, who came out of the station building at the same moment, saw him walking off into the car park to fetch his car. Correction. Assumed that he was going to fetch his car.”

“Why didn’t he follow him to get his own car?”

“Because his wife had taken him to the station and was meeting him.”

“A pity. He might have told us how close to Katie’s car Limbery’s was parked.”

Knott followed this reasoning without difficulty. He said, “You think that’s when he slipped in the note?”

“If her car was parked next to his it would have been a perfect opportunity.”

“We might be able to find out. The eight forty up is the regular commuters’ train. Those two chaps who work in London – Tony Windle and Billy Gonville – chances are they’d have been on it.”

“Find out.”

Jack Nurse said, “It’s an absolute scandal. I only heard the news this morning. I can’t imagine what young Noel can be thinking of.”

“What’s he done now?” said his wife.

“What he’s done is to take on, totally off his own bat, and without consulting anyone, the defence of that madman Limbery.”

“Why not?” said Sally. “Someone had to do it.”

“Why not? Because Vigors and Dibden is a respectable firm, miss. That’s why not.”

“You mean that someone who’s accused of a crime has to go to an unrespectable firm.”

Mr. Nurse sometimes found it difficult to cope with his daughter’s logic. He fell back on generalities. He said, “Like all young people, Noel thinks he knows better than his elders.”

“Perhaps he does, sometimes.”

“I imagine I may be permitted to know more about legal topics than you do, young lady.”

“I know one thing about the law. A man’s presumed to be innocent until he’s proved guilty. I think Noel was quite right to stick up for him.”

“You do?”

“Certainly. That’s what proper lawyers are for. To stick up for people who can’t stick up for themselves.”

“Then you think I’m talking nonsense?”

“In this case, yes.”

“Now, Sally,” said her mother hastily. “You don’t really mean that.”

It was too late. Storm signals had been hoisted.

“I certainly do mean it,” said Sally. “I think it’s absolutely foul the way vile old men like George Mariner and Vernon Vigors have assumed, without a particle of proof, that Jonathan killed Katie.”

“Vile old men, eh?” said her father. His foot was tapping the floor. “Perhaps you’d like to add your father to the list.”

“If you insist on joining the club, yes.”

“I see.”

“Sally,” said her mother, “you mustn’t talk like that to your father.”

“I’ll talk to him in any way I want.”