Hidden in Plain Sight (Detective William Warwick 2)

The officer led Booth Watson down a dimly lit brick-walled corridor, past a couple of cells, before stopping outside a door with a young constable stationed outside. The sergeant selected a key from his chain, unlocked the heavy door and pulled it open. The two officers stood aside to allow the senior silk to enter. The constable closed the door behind him and remained in his place, while the sergeant returned to his desk.

Booth Watson found his client seated on the end of the bed, clearly impatient to see him. He was still dressed in the clothes he’d been wearing at the party on Saturday night but he now looked tired, disheveled, and badly in need of a shave.

“Get me out of here,” Faulkner mumbled, before his counsel had spoken a word.

“Good morning, Miles,” said Booth Watson, as if this was a normal consultation taking place in his Middle Temple chambers. He sat down on the other end of the bed, placed his briefcase to one side and an overnight bag on the other.

“I’ve spent the night in this hellhole,” said Faulkner, not displaying his usual bravado. “I’ve already been booked in, fingerprinted, and questioned. So I’m bound to ask, what’s the point of you?”

“Did they question you under caution?” asked Booth Watson, ignoring the outburst.

“Yes. But as I didn’t say a word, all they’ve got is a lot of questions, and no answers.”

“Good,” said Booth Watson, pleased his client had carried out his instructions to the letter.

“What happens now?”

“We’re up in front of the magistrate tomorrow afternoon, when I’ll be making an application for bail on your behalf.”

“What are my chances?”

“Depends who’s on the bench. If it’s a local councilor who’s looking for fifteen minutes of fame, you’ll be placed on remand. However, if it’s one of the more experienced JPs, you’re in with a chance. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“And if the application fails?”

“I’m afraid you’ll be detained in prison while the Crown prepares its case.”

“How long could that take?”

“Six or seven months, but don’t waste any time worrying about that. Just try to focus on your bail application.”

“What will I be expected to do once I’m in the magistrates’ court?”

“Not a lot, other than to state your name and address.”

“That’s it?”

“Not quite. It’s important that you look like a decent law-abiding citizen, and not as if you’ve just emerged from a drunken orgy. So I took the liberty of picking up a change of clothes from your home that I felt would be more appropriate for the occasion.” He opened the overnight bag and laid out on the bunk a dark blue suit, white shirt, a pair of pants and socks, and an old Harrovian tie. He finally placed a monogrammed washbag by the side of the toilet.

“I’m going to need a damn sight more than that if I end up inside.”

Booth Watson didn’t tell him that he’d already packed a larger suitcase for that eventuality, which he’d left in his office.

“The next time you’ll see me, Miles, will be in court,” said Booth Watson as he stood to leave. “If the magistrate should ask you anything, don’t forget to call him sir.” He banged on the door, which didn’t have a handle on the inside, and waited for it to be opened to allow one of them to escape.

* * *

“I have to be in court by two o’clock,” said William, as he sat down opposite his father and began unloading his tray.

“Faulkner’s bail application?” asked Sir Julian, picking up his knife and fork. “I wouldn’t want to put money on which way that will go.”

“He ought to be safely locked up until the trial takes place.”

“Possibly, but unfortunately you won’t have any influence on that decision, whereas Booth Watson will.”

“More’s the pity,” said William. “That man should be sharing the same cell as Faulkner.”

“Behave yourself. Try to remember you’re lunching at Lincoln’s Inn, where we’re all meant to treat each other as brothers.” William had to smile. “By the way, when you were at Limpton Hall, were you able to establish if Faulkner’s art collection are still all originals, or has he replaced them with copies as his wife fears?”