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Cara’s backpack. Or her jeans pocket. Gotta go, love. Make sure they’re out of bed before you leave. Bye-ee.’

Bridget is on her way to meet Emily Wickham. The newly married young woman is back from her honeymoon and Bridget is hoping she’ll be able to help narrow down their lines of inquiry. Traffic from Willoughby into the city is predictably awful. Bridget uses the time to make a few calls relating to other cases and court matters. One call is to a bereaved mother, the woman’s distress and anger filling the car. Bridget opens the window, petrol fumes and sound pollution diluting the mother’s grief and her own sense of failure that the case has hit an apparent dead-end.

The door-to-door journey takes more than an hour. Patrick is already waiting in the ground-floor café, sitting at a table that’s suitably out of the way.

‘Morning.’ Bridget flops down across from him. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘About ten minutes. All good.’

Bridget shoots Emily a text to let her know they’ve arrived. Patrick slides a printed document in front of her: the list of cases that William Newson recently worked on. Bridget quickly refreshes her knowledge.

‘Here she comes,’ Patrick murmurs.

Blonde and slender, Emily’s wearing a dark-blue shift dress, showcasing her figure and tan. Her nude-coloured shoes are extremely high with pointy toes; Bridget’s back aches just from looking at them.

‘Thanks for seeing us,’ Bridget says, shaking Emily’s hand, which has long fake nails painted a light-peach colour. ‘This is my colleague, Detective Senior Constable Patrick Yandle. We know it’s your first morning back, Emily. We’ll try not to take up too much time.’

‘It’s fine.’ She sits down, flicks her very straight hair over her shoulder. ‘I came in early out of habit. I always tried to be in the office before William, in case he needed me. But he’s not here, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. I’m not even sure what’s going to happen with my job. So, take as long as you need.’

It must be disconcerting for the young woman. Away on honeymoon, which is suspended reality in itself, and then returning to this very strange set of circumstances. Will she be redeployed to one of the other barristers in the chambers, or made redundant? Who will make the decision about her future?

‘Would you like to order something?’ Patrick asks kindly. ‘Tea or coffee? Cake?’

Emily shakes her head. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

Bridget commences. ‘Just for the sake of background information, can I ask your age, please?’

‘Twenty-five.’

‘And you’ve been working for Mr Newson how long?’

‘Three years next month.’

‘We’ve started investigating the list of cases you compiled. Thank you for doing that while you were on holiday – it’s been really helpful. Can you tell me if there was anything particularly controversial or heated among the cases? Any victims who might have felt aggrieved by Mr Newson’s actions? Anything that stands out?’

Another flick of her hair, which seems to be an unconscious action. ‘Emotions run high in almost every case. Accusers and defendants are scared and humiliated, having their dirty laundry aired, their bad choices being discussed by lawyers, judges and juries. But the people who are the most emotional – the angriest, I suppose – are the fathers. Sometimes it’s the fathers of the defendants, the boys who’ve been accused. Their child’s life is ruined, there’s no coming back from this, the other party is telling lies … More often it’s the fathers of the victims, the girls. They can turn violent. Threaten all sorts of things … It’s really ugly.’

‘Did it ever put you off working for Mr Newson?’

She shrugs, as though the answer is obvious. ‘Of course. It’s impossible not to be affected.’

‘But you didn’t leave. Why is that?’

‘Because William believed in his work and in everyone’s right to have legal representation. He used to say, “It’s dirty and upsetting work, that’s why it’s even more important to do it well.” That really resonated with me, and after a while I got to see that sometimes the accuser was acting out of embarrassment or revenge, and William was actually stopping a miscarriage of justice. He was a good boss. I’m paid well, and he gave me extended leave last year when my mum was sick.’

Bridget and Patrick share a wordless glance. A good boss. A man committed to the justice system. A man who was generous, empathetic and altruistic. Does Emily have a case of rose-tinted glasses?

‘Okay, let’s read through this list together and see which cases incited the most backlash … Nichols?’

‘Never made it to court. Phone records proved that the woman was lying about her whereabouts.’

‘Davis?’

‘University student and his former girlfriend. Charges were withdrawn.’

‘R v Smith?’

Her face scrunches with distaste. ‘That one was nasty. DNA analysis confirmed sexual activity but no evidence of bruising, scratches or any other signs of forced sex. The accused was committed for trial but William made a successful application to the DPP to discontinue due to the unreliability of the evidence. The girl’s father went ballistic. He accosted William outside court the following week. William had to get an AVO.’

‘The father’s name?’

‘Fergus Herrmann.’

‘How long since the incident outside the courthouse?’

‘Two or three months.’

Fairly recent, then. Is the father still furious? How long does it take for such blinding anger to abate? Does it ever?

Bridget continues to ask questions while Patrick takes notes. Emily flags another case – and complainant – as difficult.

‘Laura Dundas met our client on a night out, and went back to his place. You could say that the two of them were on very different wavelengths. The case went to court but not enough evidence for a guilty verdict. Laura was beside herself. She protested outside the Downing Centre Court wearing a bikini! Then somehow got past the security doors here and graffitied reception.’

Jesus. Poor Laura. And not very pleasant for William Newson either. Did he take the threats seriously? Was he cautious about walking alone at night? Watchful on his way in and out of court?

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