Unravel a Crime - Tangle With Women (8 page)

BOOK: Unravel a Crime - Tangle With Women
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"According to the
prosecution you had 3 holidays at his expense.

Newberry stood up suddenly.

"Do we have to go through
all this shit?"

"Yes," said
Brakespeare firmly.

"How about a walk?"


What? "

"Sitting here and fielding
all these questions is stressing me. I have a problem with my ticker- we'll
talk about that later. Let's walk and talk; it will help.

"OK, if you wish"
said Brakespeare, by nature a couch potato, “where are we going?"


Oh just up the Hill. Don't
worry, we'll not walk all the way. I don't get around much any more, as you
know." He smiled wryly. "You drive. "

chapter eight

At Newberry's direction,
Brakespeare drove into the centre of Malvern, where they managed to find a
parking space near the shops in Worcester Road.

Newberry then led Brakespeare
to the beginning of a path up the face of the hills.

"We'll walk slowly and
talk slowly," said Newberry, "if only for the sake of my
health."

"What’ s the problem;
something to do with your heart, isn't it. "

"I'm a freak of nature.
It's called 'dilated cardiomyopathy'. Ever heard of it?"


The 'cardio' bit, yes; the
rest no. You'd better explain." said Brakespeare.

"Well at about the time
we moved to London, I kept feeling short of breath. The quack said that it was
nothing but mild asthma, and apart from prescribing an inhaler, which was too
embarrassing to use, and which never seemed to have any effect when I tried
anyway, he said he could do nothing for me . However it seemed to get worst and
so he decided that it might be something to do with my heart. He sent me to the
W.R.I . "


What?"


Sorry the Worcester Royal
Infirmary; to the Cardiology Department. They decided after doing all sorts of
unpleasant tests, that I had severe weakening of my heart muscles. "

"Had you had a heart
attack?"

"No. I had no obvious
heart disease, high blood pressure or anything like that. They decided that at
some stage I must have possibly been attacked by a virus, but they don't really
know. So what I have is an enlarged heart and weakened muscles."

"Well you seem to be
getting up this hill all right", said a gasping Brakespeare. Newberry
seemed even fitter than he.

Newberry stopped in his
stride. "Medication. But it won't cure it; can't cure it."

"So what's the
prognosis?"

"Don't know. According to
statistics, 50% of people, (and there aren't many of us) die within a year;
others live for longer. I will never make old bones, but I can tell you one
thing .. "

He stretched out his right
hand and put it on Brakespeare's left shoulder.

" .... .if I have to go
the Court with this bag of shit that the police have prepared, then the stress
could kill me. You need to get a medical report on me. The doctors will say
that high levels of stress can lead to heart rhythm irregularities, including
sudden death, so unless you want to have a client popping his clogs in a most
dramatic manner, you've got to stop this case in it's tracks. Comprende?

"Comprendo." replied
Brakespeare through a surge of panic. What had he done to deserve a case like
this? First the involvement of Mortimer; no wonder he was being so interested
in the case. Now this emotional pressure.

"Come on." Newberry
started off up the hill again.

"Look," said
Brakespeare, "I really am sorry about all this, but at this stage I can't
see the prosecution dropping the case because of a medical certificate, unless
the doctors can literally guarantee your death. Will they do that?"

"Doctors are like bloody
lawyers. They will guarantee nothing."

"Well then, we're going
have to carry on where we left off - I need to know everything. If I know
everything, especially our weak points, I can look for the weak points in the
prosecution case. "

"I know, I
understand," said

"So tell me about the
holidays."

"Look, let's go back to
Masters and the National. As I told you, he wanted to get into commercial
lending, and when you’re involved in commercial business, you have to go out
and get it, and that means socialising; drinks, "jollys" to events
such as Wimbledon and Twickenham, and so on. It doesn't mean that there's any
hanky panky going on; it's just oiling the wheels of commerce."

"But holidays?"

"Why not. They're only a
long day trip. Many companies take their employees away as a reward for hard
work. You can't argue that they shouldn't on the basis that the employee has
already been paid. Besides I paid my own way. "

"What do you mean?"
Newberry took a deep gasp of breath. The medication obviously worked for
Newberry from the pace that he was setting.

"What was the first trip
they talk about?" asked Newberry.

"If I remember correctly,
they say that you were flown to Gibraltar with your family for two weeks at
Clearfield's expense."

"Well that's slightly
disingenuous; Levy paid for the fares. I think he may have used up some air
miles. In fact we had a cheap flight with Monarch Airlines to Malaga and then I
hired a car and drove us down to Gibraltar - miserable place. Portland Bill in
the sun. Ever been there?"

Newberry shook his head.

"Not missed much then.
Let the Spanish have it. Anyway we stayed in a grotty hotel, and I also paid
for the food and drink. It was a cheap holiday - and a boring one. "

"But why would he give
you the air tickets. "

"As I said it's oiling
the wheels of commerce. Look, the National's job was and is to lend money, and
Masters wanted us to find commercial clients to lend to. Levy wanted to borrow
money and subject to everything stacking up, we lent. It was his way of showing
his appreciation.”

"But you were part of his
Company."

Newberry flared up.
"Haven't you been listening to a word I've been saying. I had nothing to
do with the company by the time we went to Gibraltar!"

Brakespeare decided to let
this one ride. He didn't want to Newberry have a heart attack halfway up the
Malvern Hills..

"Paris?"

"Same again, only this
time Levy and his wife were going for a long weekend and invited my wife and I
along. "

"He paid for the
fares?"

"And we went
"Dutch" on everything else."

"And then I think you
went to Paris again, a year later."

"Yes, same again. "

The pace of the conversation
had slowed considerably as both men slowly climbed the hill, pausing regularly
for breath. By now, they were near the top of North Hill, and Newberry turned,
pointing variously North and East.

"Isn't that wonderful.
You can see for miles. Worcester over there; you can just about see the
Cathedral if you squint. Over there Bredon Hill. Let's get to the top and sit
down."

They climbed for a few more
minutes, and then Newberry sat down on the grass and gazed across the Vale of
Evesham. Brakespeare joined him.

Newberry turned towards him.
"You know, I'm not worried about death. I don't believe in an afterlife or
anything of that sort, but I shall miss the sheer beauty of this place. Listen.
Silence."

He paused and Brakespeare
could see that he was thinking about something. Then he spoke.

"If my heart were to simply
stop beating,

And if I should pass away.

I would be so perfectly happy

To have left on this beautiful
day."

Brakespeare felt not a little
moved.

"That's nice. Who wrote
it?"

"I did. Just now! Verses
often come into my head. I keep meaning to write them down."

Brakespeare was happy just to
sit and share the serenity of the Hills. Minutes passed without either of them
saying a word.

Newberry stood up again.
"I feel better now. Better go back I suppose."

They started to go down the
way that they had come up. Brakespeare found that the descent was harder than
the ascent, and soon his knee joints began to hurt.

"That was beautiful, I
can see why you would not want to move to London, but back to business; the
second trip to Paris. It wasn't the same was it?"

"What do you mean? "

"Who are Mrs Potter and
Master Potter. "

"Friends." The
aggressiveness came back.

"Good friends?"

"Yes."

Brakespeare felt his temper
rise. The prick was pissing him about again. He stopped in his tracks with a
jolt.

"For fuck's sake."

Newberry who by now was
slightly ahead of him stopped also and swung round.

"What did you just
say?" Brakespeare ignored him.


You're a married man. Have
children?"

Newberry nodded.

"Married men with
children don't go on holiday with other married women and presumably her son
unless they're rather more than friends - or was this business entertaining
also? What business were you putting her way that she was happy to go on a
dirty weekend with you.?!"

They stared at each other for
several seconds, then Newberry visibly sagged. By now they had descended to St
Ann’s Well, and he gestured to an iron bench. They both sat down and Newberry
bent forward; his head in his hands.

"Christ how did I get
into this mess. Do you know what it feels like to have every aspect of your
life dug over when you've done nothing wrong. This isn't fucking justice."

Brakespeare feeling that he
had gained the upper hand, and now had this difficult client under control,
needed to take advantage of the moment.

"This is preparation for
‘fucking justice’. Who is Mrs Potter?"

Newberry paused to collect his
thoughts.

"Kate and I go back a
long way. She was my girlfriend when I worked at the Council; she was a
secretary in my department. Then we had a bust up and she found someone else
and married him. They moved away to London. I didn't see her for years. I got
married and had kids ... "

"How many?"

"Two, a boy and a girl.
The girl's married and the boy’s in his first year at University. Then when I
started to go down to London, I met her again. She was working for one of the
large estate agents. Her marriage hadn't worked, and she'd been on her own for
quite a while. Waiting for me to come back she said." He laughed.
"She said she knew that I would. Well, what can you do when a woman says
that?" He looked up and across at Brakespeare.

"Say no?"

"There speaks the lawyer.
Well my marriage had dried up by then and so the inevitable happened."

"Dried up?"

"I haven't had sex with
my wife for eighteen years. Not since my son was born."

One thing a solicitor learns
to do is to control himself. Day in, day out clients will matter of factly,
drop a bombshell. A solicitor just has to nod appreciatively and stifle all
desire to laugh, cry or express surprise, shock, amusement, or indignation.
Brakespeare had often wondered why it was that people will say things to a
complete stranger that they would not say to their nearest and dearest.

"So you started an affair
with Mrs. Potter again. Did she have any children?"

"No."

"So Master Potter?"

"Mine."

"How old is he?"

"Seven now. Nice
lad."

"Do you see him
much?"

"Not lately; not since I
was banned from driving. Can't get anywhere. When we opened the London office I
used to spend the weeks with Kate, and as I told you, come home at weekends.
"

The penny now dropped.
Brakespeare paused, not quite sure how to put things. "So you had a sort
of double life."

Brakespeare pulled a face.
"Well I suppose that's one way of looking at it."


Did your wife know?"

Newberry breathed in deeply
though his nose and out again.

"Don't know. We never
talked about it. She never asked any questions. As I said she has her life; I
have mine. "

"But why, if as you say
you haven't er. ... "

"Shagged her?"

"….For eighteen years,
why not separate?" Newberry looked at him.

"Do you have any
children?"

"Two"

"With your wife?"

"We're divorced."

"How old?"

"Six and four".

"When did you
separate?"

"Just after the youngest
was born. "

Newberry looked in front
again."

"That's sad. You won't
have fully bonded, but my kids grew up with me. I suppose I feel guilty because
I married their mother, and so I decided that I had to stay with them. "

BOOK: Unravel a Crime - Tangle With Women
13.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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