Unravel a Crime - Tangle With Women (43 page)

Sophie had cooked lunch. They
walked up to Willen Lake and back; they had tea, they watched television. The
Christmas games were brought out and played out of season, and then it was time
for their bed. The time that Brakespeare had been dreading.

He sat on the sofa, wondering
whether to leave. He had not brought an overnight bag with him as he had not
wished to commit himself.

Sophie brought him a glass of
whisky and soda, which surprised him, as her father did not drink. She must
have been out and bought it. More surprisingly, she had poured a glass for
herself. He had never known her drink Whisky before. Perhaps she had acquired
the habit after their separation. Perhaps, like him, she needed some Dutch
courage.

“
Cheers.” He said, raising his
glass.

“
Cheers.” Sophie replied and
clinked her glass against his. “That was a lovely day, thanks, Jonny. The kids
really love having you around.”

“
I never went away. You took
them away.”

Sophie hung her head. “I know
that, but do we have to talk about it. Can’t we bury the past and talk about
the future?”

Brakespeare didn’t reply. The
future was an unknown. A complicated unknown which he was unable to resolve.
Sophie took a gulp from her glass. He noticed that she tried not to pull a
face. She was doing it for him.

Sophie lent against him. “It’s
nine o’clock. Are you staying?”

“
Where?”

“
With me?” She leaned forward
and turned to him. “Come on let’s try.”

“
OK.” He said after a
hesitation.

She finished her glass with a
gulp and a cough, and put it down.

“
Let me go ahead. I’ll get
ready. Come up in a few minutes.”

Brakespeare could not look her
in the eye, but nodded. With Mel out of action at least it looked as if he was
going to get laid. But did he want to? The memories of sex with Sophie were
distant now. While he was excited at the thought of the act, he felt no more
desire for her as a person than he would for a hooker. He drained his glass.
Well at least it was free.

He went upstairs. Sophie was
sleeping in the large double room opposite her parents bedroom. They must have
been in on this. It was all too contrived.

He knocked on the door. “Come
in.” Sophie called.

The room smelled of perfume.
She was sitting on the bed in a basque, a thong and stockings. She had put her
hair up, and a little too much make up on. He groaned inwardly. It was all so
false. Did any men really like to have their women dressed up in this
ridiculous way, or was it a woman’s idea of what men wanted?

The bedroom had it’s own
ensuite bathroom.

“
I’ll just go in here”, he
indicated. Sophie nodded, and as he drew near her, held her lips out for a
kiss.

“
Why not?” thought Brakespeare
and went to kiss her.

He was surprised when she put
her tongue in his mouth and pressed him closer. She rolled back, pulling him
with her. He lay on top of her. The whisky began to have the effect that she no
doubt intended. He fondled her breasts, insofar as he could, because the cups
of the basque protected as well as supported them.

“
Take it off me.” breathed
Sophie.

“
Let me go to the bathroom” he
said.

“
Don’t be long she smiled.

He noticed that the bowl of
the bidet was wet. She would be clean. He stepped into the shower and used the
mint shower gel to refresh himself. It tingled.

There was a clean towel, which
had obviously been put out for him, and he dried himself. Sophie still lay on
the bed. Her head lying back

“
I want you Jonny.” she said
in a high voice. “I want you.”

Sophie had never said anything
like that in either their courtship or their marriage. She had always been the
passive one; taking but not really giving. Still, he was here and she was
there, and regardless as to whether or not they would get back together, there
would be little harm done. He felt slightly self conscious at being naked, and
he could see Sophie lifting her head to look at him. There wasn’t much to see
at the moment, but that would change.

Moving to the bed he slowly
opened her legs and peeled the thong off. He was surprised to she that she had
removed all body hair, what was it called? A Brazilian that was it. He had not
seen one before. Sophie smiled at the expression on his face.

Perhaps her sighs had not been
feigned after all. She was very aroused.

He put his head between her
thighs. Cunnilingus was an acquired taste, but she was clean; very clean..

“
Rip it off” she had commanded
and he tore off the basque; the fastenings popping open.

“
Yes, Jonny, yes,” she
breathed after twenty minutes of foreplay.

He lay her on her back and
prepared to penetrate her.

It was then that his passion
waned. It had been fine until now, but he knew that if he took her now, it
would affect his relationship with Mel – and Lisa. He would also be making the
commitment that Sophie wanted. Was she was using any form of contraception?
Another baby was the last thing he wanted.

“
What’s the matter, Jonny?”
Sophie asked, as he hung over her, supporting himself on his arms.

He shook his head, and fell on
his side.

“
I can’t. I can’t do it.”

Sophie looked at his body.
“Don’t worry. It’ll come back.” and she snuggled next to him on top of the bed.

But it didn’t come back.
Sophie tried to arouse him again, without success.

“
Let’s get under the quilt”,
she said. She tried snuggling up against him, her hands slowly exploring his
body. Eventually, she turned onto her side away from him. Jonny could hear her
sighing. Then she started sobbing.

Brakespeare could do not more.
In his heart of hearts he knew that it was really all over. He swung of the bed
and found his clothes.

“
Sorry, Sophie.” he said. “I’d
better go. Tell the kids that – well tell them what you feel best. Tell them
Daddy says have a good party, and I’ll be seeing them soon. Sorry.”

He left the house quietly.

For reasons best known to the
Court Service the actual hearing was at a Building known as The Borough in
Pocock Street., a workaday street buried in South London off Blackfriars Road.
The Hearing was at 10.30. That meant that Brakespeare had had to catch the 6.28
a.m. from Worcester to arrive in London just before 9.00. allowing him and
Newberry an hour and a half to find it.

Brakespeare was never at his
best early in the morning. He was depressed by the events of the week end. He
had not spoken with Sophie since the disaster of Saturday night. He had tried
to find Mel, but realised that she had not told him where she was moving to. He
wanted to talk to Lisa, but didn’t know how to find her. If men could cry
easily, Brakespeare would have done so that weekend.

For Newberry, even though his
fate was not going to be decided that day, it was the day that he had been
waiting for. He had been doing his own research among Surveyors literature,
books and rules. Throughout the journey he insisted on making detailed
technical points to Newberry who was neither in the mood to absorb them or
indeed, do anything with the information. For the two and a half hours of the
journey he was forced to concentrate sufficiently to contribute “yes” or “no”
to the conversation in order to reassure Newberry that he had an attentive
audience, when he really wanted to consider his own problems.

The train was late, and the
pair had to take a taxi to the Court at some expense, but at least it saved a
long and stuffy journey by the Underground.

The Court Building was of that
totally uniquely horrible and unindividual design that many public service
buildings are. They went through the main entrance where they were vetted and
their bags examined and scanned before they were allowed into the precincts.

“
Is this normal?” asked
Newberry.

“
Getting more and more so I’m
afraid,. It’s the times we live in.”

The entrance foyer was crowded
with the usual bunch of Crown Court attendees. Defendants looking either surly
or cocky; either not wanting to speak to anyone or else cracking jokes to their
attendant wives and mistresses. Witnesses were looking bewildered and trying to
find somewhere to hide away from the Defendants. Self important Court Ushers in
black gowns were barking at people and ordering them where to go. Solicitors or
their representatives, carrying bulging briefcases, were trying to find either
their clients or their barristers, and barristers were parading up and down
trying to find solicitors and clients.

Brakespeare asked an Usher
where the barristers’ robing room was. It was too minor a question to deserve a
full answer, and he was given by a vague gesture towards the back of the
building.

Newberry’s constant chatter
since the beginning of their journey had gradually subsided as they approached
the Court, to the point where he simply looked nervous. He waved to a man
across the foyer.

When Brakespeare looked
enquiringly at him, “Jonathan Levy” he explained.

“
I wonder what he’s doing?”
mused Brakespeare.

“
Not Guilty.” volunteered
Newberry.

“
How do you know, have you
spoken to him?”

“
Yes, no reason not to.”

“
Have you told him what we’ve
found?”

“
Yes”.

“
I haven’t heard anything from
his solicitors.”

“
They think that they should
have heard from you.”

Newberry was now in aggressive
mode.

“
Bugger that.” said
Brakespeare. “I’m working for you, not Levy.”

“
Yes, but he was a client of
your firm.”

“
Sorry.” Brakespeare stopped
walking, and with pent up emotion flew at Newberry. “Are you telling me that as
your solicitor, you wanted me to work hand in glove with another Defendant’s
solicitors? Don’t you realise that the charge against you is one of conspiracy.
The last thing you do in a conspiracy charge is fraternise with the
Co-Defendants. You need to put as much distance as you can between yourself and
him.”

Newberry looked shocked. “I
think he expected us to help. I think he thinks that I got him into all this.”

“
But you didn’t, did you.”

“
No”

“
Then there’s no need to help
him. It could equally be said that it was he who got you into this” Brakespeare
said pointedly. “Ah, there she is.” He caught sight of Rosemary Lappin talking
in the distance to another barrister. Both were wearing the garb originally
worn as a token of mourning the death of Queen Anne in 1714.; wigs, gowns and
white tabs at the collar. Brakespeare waited until she had finished her
conversation, and then walked towards her.

“
Good morning Jonny, good
morning Mr. Newberry. I’m afraid that there’s going to be e delay before we get
before the Judge. Apparently a trial that was due to start today has collapsed.
The Defendant has decided to plead “guilty”. The case was to have started after
we had been heard, but now they’re going to take his plea and deal with the
sentencing. We’re to be heard afterwards.”

Newberry looked dejected.

“
Sorry about this Mr.
Newberry. It sometimes happens. The best laid plans of mice and men and all
that. They call us here for 10.30 and then mess us about. Never mind, I was just
talking to Levy’s barrister. He’s not very happy with you, Jonny. He thinks
that you should have told his solicitor what you found in the papers, and
liaised with him. He wants a copy of my skeleton argument. You didn’t send it
to him.”

“
No, I never thought to.”

Newberry was looking pleased
that his point about Levy seemed to have been made.

“
Good, you shouldn’t have.
Levy’s solicitor had the same papers that you had. Seems he simply passed all
the papers to Counsel, and left him to get on with it. Counsel has confessed
that he hasn’t done any more than speed read them. Hasn’t even had a full
conference with his client. You’re ahead of the game, Jonny. Always was.” she
volunteered. She turned to Newberry..

“
So, Mr. Newberry, if you want
to go for a walk in this delightful part of London, I suggest that you do so.
Be back in an hour. “

”
No, I think I’ll stay here,
and refresh my memory with the papers.”

“
As you wish.” said Lappin
“But do not under any circumstances talk to Mr. Levy or show him any of the papers
Jonny has prepared.”

“
That’s a bit steep isn’t it.
After all we were friends.”

“
More than that Mr. Newberry,
you were business partners, and you are now co-defendants. If in the course of
this case I found anything to distance you from anything that Mr. Levy did, I
would use it, even if it were to Mr. Levy’s detriment. I am sure that Mr.
Levy’s Counsel would do exactly the same; he wouldn’t be doing his job if he
didn’t, so do not, I repeat not, give Mr. Levy the slightest opportunity which
you might regret.”