Tuesday 19 February 2013

New mystic

Paul met Maurice at Croma, just off Albert Square in the centre of Manchester. Croma was a convenient for the courts, the banks and other money men – still mostly men – who worked for a (dis)honest hundred grand or two nearby. Croma was nothing special to look at but it did serve decent Italianish food, at a fair price, with an efficient, friendly but non intrusive staff. Paul had a soft spot for Croma as it was one of his daughter’s favourites. They both always eat the same food there - Americano pizza for Paul, Lasagne for Catherine, which also included shared garlic bread and a rocker leaf salad with balsamic vinegar and parmesan cheese and tiramisu to follow.

But today Paul was meeting Maurice – Rachel’s lawyer – in order to share their understandings on developments in her case. Maurice was seating in a quiet alcove waiting for Paul when he arrived on time. He didn’t look quite like a lawyer – whatever that was. He was wearing the right kind of non descript grey suit – not too expensive but certainly not cheap. He also wore a suitable tie, not quite recognisably old public school but it could be. The thing is Maurice had a rakish moustache and a grin go with it that kind of undermined his thoughtful lawyer look. He was just too alive, too dangerous if you like.

They shook hands, ordered pre lunch drinks – corona for Maurice, cappuccino for Paul.
- So why are they keeping Rachel in prison?
- It partially protective, for her own good.
- Whaaaat?
- Well since her canal boat was blown up…
- They think her life is at risk?
Maurice nodded and they paused as the waiter came to take their lunch order. Paul continued,
- But don’t they know how prison is affecting her…She’s lost weight….become withdrawn, maybe even depressed. She is at risk staying inside.
- I know but they don’t care. I need some new line to make a case for her release on bail.
- Hmm… What about her being granted bail on very restrictive conditions, where she lives, reporting regularly to a police station, even tagged?
- I’ve tried all of that.
- How about a report form a shrink or a clinical psychologist?
- On it’s way, it might just swing things.
- I can’t believe they feel she is a public risk. She is a gentle soul in my view.
- I agree, but it’s not me you need to convince.
Paul nodded and grew silent as their waiter delivered their food and offered the obligatory over sized pepper pot.
- How do you want my investigation to proceed?
- Follow up any leads with Dave Ashton. I am sure he is involved somehow but the police don’t seem at all interested in him.
- Will do.
- The police are getting nowhere in figuring out who blew up Rachel’s canal boat. You could speak to her again about it.
- Sure, I was intending to see her again soon in any case.
- I’ve got to be back in court soon.
- OK stay in touch.
Maurice nodded, shook hands with Paul and left.

Paul nursed the remains of a cup of cappuccino and let his mind go blank and his breathing slow down and deepen. In his mind’s eye he saw Rachel’s boat, bobbing on the canal. It was dark. Then he noticed a shadowy figure fixing something – was it semtex – to the stern of the boat. Paul took another slow deep breath, hoping to see more, but the image faded. Was it Ashton he saw or someone else? Paul couldn’t be sure.

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