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Authors: Caro Fraser

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BOOK: A Calculating Heart
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He propped himself against Ann’s desk and folded his arms. ‘I’m very glad you’ve joined us. We used to have some good times, you and I, back at Bar School. What say we recreate those happy times?’

‘If you mean staying up till three, listening to Joni Mitchell and drinking too much – no, not even for you.’

‘Perhaps something more civilised. Making due allowance for our advanced age. How about lunch?’

‘Now?’

‘Unless you’ve had a better offer.’

‘Not so far. I’ll just put these away. Shall I see if Marcus or Roger wants to join us?’

‘No. The company of the young can be hard work, and I feel I’ve done too much of that lately.’

Ann wondered if this was an oblique reference to young Miss Lawrence, of whom she had heard certain rumours involving Leo. She gave a wry smile. ‘Let me get my bag.’

They went downstairs together, making a brief detour to the clerks’ room to check for post. Henry was talking
to David Liphook, and as he passed Henry’s desk, Leo noticed the stacked boxes of white envelopes.

‘What’s this lot?’ he asked.

‘Invitations to the chambers’ party on the twentieth of next month,’ replied Henry. ‘Should’ve gone out last week, only we had a problem with the venue. Couldn’t get Inner Temple Garden, so we’ve had to make do with Gray’s Inn.’


You
mean we have to slog all the way up there?’ asked David.

‘Walk’ll do you good, sir,’ replied Henry briskly. ‘
You
can always take a cab if it’s too taxing.’

‘I wasn’t even aware we were having a bash,’ said Leo.

‘Mr Faber’s idea. Well, Mr Hayter’s originally, but Mr Faber’s been overseeing most of the arrangements,’ said Henry. ‘A sort of “welcome to the new-look Five Caper Court” party. City firms, P&I clubs, judges, all the usual suspects. Mr Faber even suggested a barbecue supper, on top of the champagne and Pimm’s. He’s very full of ideas, when it comes to PR.’

‘I’ll bet he is.’ Leo turned to Ann. ‘I didn’t realise Maurice was such a little mover and shaker,’ he murmured. ‘He seems to have thrown himself into chambers’ life with unusual energy.’

‘We talked about this party at the last chambers’ meeting,’ said David. ‘Don’t you remember?’

‘I must have been asleep.’

‘Well, Maurice has pretty much sorted it out. He’s keen to promote a bold new image for us. Glad someone wants to do it, as long as it’s not me. As Henry says, he’s bursting
with ideas. Even says he’s going to re-vamp the chambers’ website.’

‘Is that a fact?’

‘I suspect he’s lining himself up to become head of chambers when Roderick pops off.’

Leo was finally startled. He had no special ambitions in that direction himself, but it irked him to think that someone so new to chambers should be muscling ahead of people who’d been there many years. Still, if Maurice enjoyed arranging parties and tinkering with websites, let him get on with it.

‘Come on,’ he said to Ann. ‘Let’s have lunch.’

Adriana Papaposilakis heard with some satisfaction that Leo had accepted her brief, and a conference was arranged to discuss the case of the
Persephone
. It was to be held in Leo’s room at 5 Caper Court, and attended by Miss Papaposilakis, Mr Defereras, Rachel and the junior barrister already instructed in the case, Kate Carpenter. On the morning of the conference Miss Papaposilakis arrived dead on time. She swept into Leo’s room, dressed in one of her trademark designer suits, which managed to make her look both compact and voluptuous at the same time, accompanied by the silent Mr Defereras. Leo rose from behind his desk and extended his hand to Adriana.

While Rachel made brief introductions, Leo surveyed his new client with interest. She was indeed diminutive – no more than five feet tall, at most – but she exuded energy
and personality, charging the room with her presence and her light, distinctive fragrance. And she was, he had to admit, extremely lovely, almost to excess. In every aspect of her appearance there seemed to be an element of surplus-in the blondeness of her hair, the extravagance of her very feminine figure, her queenly air, the husky voice, the makeup, the shoes, the jewellery. Leo, as he smiled and shook her hand, marvelled at such an abundance of sensuality in so slight a being.

Miss Papaposilakis, for her part, felt the mildest disappointment when she first set eyes on Leo. He was wickedly good-looking, admittedly, but came across as nothing like the dangerous, reckless lothario portrayed in the newspaper columns of a few weeks ago. His manner was polite, restrained, and in his dark suit and tie in the neat, formal setting of his room, he seemed no different from any of the other barristers she had come across. And then he shook her hand and smiled, and she saw in that smile and in the sharp glance of the blue eyes something much more intriguing and promising. With a little inner shiver of pleasure, Adriana Papaposilakis settled herself in her chair, lifted her chin, and waited expectantly for Leo to begin.

‘Well, now, I’ve been through the papers, and of course I’ve discussed the case at some length with Miss Dean and Miss Carpenter—’ Leo gave a nod in the direction of the junior barrister, a thin, patient girl in her early twenties who, if she was in any way put out that Leo had been instructed as leader in the case, had yet to show it, ‘—and
I’m happy to say that I believe we have every prospect of success. That is to say, I think the defendants are going to have a very difficult time establishing that the events which caused the loss of the
Persephone
were anything but accidental. I’m surprised they’ve been so reluctant to settle. I’m sure we’re all familiar with the facts, but it may be useful to summarise them briefly.’ Leo glanced down at a couple of pages of his own handwritten notes. ‘It appears that the yacht was in harbour at Ventetone in Italy, when a fire broke out in the engine room in the early hours of the morning of September the twenty-third, two thousand and two. The fire spread rapidly to the accommodation area, where a deck boy died as a result of smoke inhalation. The only other persons on board the boat at the time – the master and the engineer – escaped. We’ll discuss their evidence in detail a little later on, but suffice to say for the moment that as a result of the fire the vessel sank at her anchorage. The seat of the fire was in the vicinity of the generator, though the evidence appears to be inconclusive as to precisely where the ignition first took place …’ Leo thumbed through the file and glanced at a couple of pages before going on. ‘Anyway, the expert reports establish that, one of the high pressure diesel fuel supply pipes serving one of the generator’s three cylinders had become partially disconnected, and that this was the source of the fuel for the fire. The defendants say that it was the deliberate opening of this injector pipe which caused it. We, on the other hand, maintain that the pipe vibrated open accidentally.’

Leo sat back in his chair. ‘Stated baldly, those are the facts of the case. I’ll go into the technical aspects more deeply in a moment. As Miss Carpenter has stated in her original opinion, to win their case, the underwriters have a difficult burden of proof to discharge. They have to show that the fire was started deliberately with a view to causing constructive total loss of the vessel, and that it was done with the connivance of her owners.’ Here Leo paused to glance at Miss Papaposilakis, but he could read nothing in the depths of those brown, lustrous eyes, which looked straight into his with every appearance of candour. ‘Establishing an allegation of scuttling requires strong evidence – strong enough to induce what Mr Justice Coleman described in
The Grecia Express
as “a high level of confidence that the allegation of scuttling is true”. I believe there are too many uncertainties here for the other side to induce that level of confidence in court. What motive, after all, could Miss Papaposilakis have for getting rid of the yacht?’ Again his eyes met those of Adriana Papaposilakis.

She gave a small smile. ‘Precisely. I’m scarcely in desperate need of money. The
Persephone
has long since been replaced by a new yacht for my personal use. The insurance claim was made as a matter of course. It is quite outrageous to suggest that I would arrange for the deliberate sinking of my own yacht, or that any master of mine would agree to it. Why would I do such a thing?’ She gave a pretty shrug. ‘That is why I have asked you to take this case, Mr Davies. I have every faith that you can win it for me.’

Leo was perfectly convinced that the case could win itself in the very capable hands of Kate Carpenter, but he wasn’t going to argue with the passionate warmth which flickered in Miss Papaposilakis’s dark eyes as she spoke.

‘I’m flattered you think so, Miss Papaposilakis. We shall do our utmost. Now, let’s have a look at the witness statements, starting first of all with that of the master, Captain Kollias …’

Two hours later, after an exhaustive trawl through statements and expert reports, Leo brought the meeting to a close.

‘I think we can leave it there for the present. We still have to put in our skeleton argument – left it rather late, I’m afraid – and Miss Dean will let you have a copy of that as soon as it’s prepared. In the meantime, I have to start preparing my examination of the witnesses, so I’ll need to see Captain Kollias and Mr Staveris fairly soon. Will we be able to arrange that?’ Leo glanced at Rachel.

Mr Defereras leant forward. ‘Captain Kollias is retired now. He lives here in London with his family, so he is available any time you wish to see him.’

‘And Mr Staveris?’

‘I can arrange for him to come to London in the next two weeks,’ said Mr Defereras.

‘Good.’ Leo put his papers together. He rose, as did Adriana, and they shook hands once more.

‘It relieves me to know that you are so optimistic about
our chances of success, Mr Davies. As I said before, I am sure you will win this case for me.’

Leo smiled. That slight accent was remarkably sexy, as was everything about this woman. ‘Thank you for your confidence. I’ll try not to disappoint you.’

‘Oh, I’m very sure you won’t.’

Rachel tried to watch this exchange dispassionately. After all, here were two people who were past masters at charming the pants off everyone they met. In Leo’s case, literally. She sighed inwardly. Leo was too professional to let Miss Papaposilakis work on him at a personal level, and she supposed she should be grateful for that. Rachel really didn’t think she could bear to handle this case if she had to watch Leo succumbing to the seductive allure of this insidious Greek midget.

That evening, Leo was lying on the sofa after supper with the
Financial Times,
while Camilla sat cross-legged on the floor, leafing through holiday brochures. Leo had suggested taking a week’s break at the end of August, if Henry could clear the way, and Camilla was assessing the various Caribbean options.

‘Leo, these places are incredibly expensive. Do you realise?’

‘Yes, I realise.’

‘I mean, all these five-star resorts. Do you know what a room at this Sandy Lane place costs?’

Leo lowered his paper. ‘Forget about rooms. We’ll have a suite. Or one of those flats on the beach, with houseboys
and gardeners and maids thrown in. I absolutely refuse to do this on a second-class basis.’

‘It’s going to cost a complete fortune,’ murmured Camilla, turning the pages.

‘My dear child, you haven’t the first idea what constitutes a complete fortune. It’s certainly not the cost of a fortnight’s holiday at a decent hotel. I’ve been instructed recently by a client who could buy the Sandy Lane several times over, and still have change to spare for a cocktail or two.’

‘Who’s that?’ Camilla turned to look at Leo over her shoulder.

‘A creature by the name of Adriana Papaposilakis. She runs the Silakis Shipping Line.’

‘I’ve heard of Silakis. They’re massive. She must be rolling in it.’

‘Somewhat. An amusing woman, in an outrageous kind of way.’

Catching Leo’s smile, Camilla turned her attention more fully to this. ‘What’s so outrageous about her?’

‘Hmm. Difficult to say. She has certain … qualities.’

‘She’s attractive, you mean.’

‘In a rather overstated way. But yes, definitely personable.’

‘Is it a big case?’

‘Not particularly. Her private yacht caught fire and sank a couple of years ago, and the underwriters are refusing to pay out. They reckon it wasn’t an accident. The case is only worth a few million. She had a perfectly able junior
handling it, then out of the blue she asked for me.’

‘Why you? I mean – what’s the big deal?’

‘Oh …’ Leo cast about for a reason, then shrugged. ‘I think perhaps it’s become a point of principle for her. Can’t stand the thought of being accused of such a thing. Must win at all costs.’

‘I’ll bet you’re the big deal.’

‘Don’t be daft.’ Leo raised his paper again, then after a few seconds asked, ‘What on earth makes you say that?’

‘Oh, come on – don’t imagine people weren’t intrigued by all that stuff in the papers about you. It’s bound to have an effect.’

‘Well, the instructing solicitors are Nichols and Co., and with my beady-eyed ex-wife on the case, I don’t imagine any Greek hussy is going to be allowed to compromise my manly virtue. So set your mind at rest, and come here.’

Camilla got up and joined him on the sofa, snuggling against him. After the torment of that wretched week following their last argument, she had decided that there was no point in worrying about who or what was going to distract Leo’s wayward attentions next. She was just going to have to learn to trust him.

Even though it was midsummer, Sandy spent the first week at Felicity’s Clapham flat in a state of near-hibernation. He scarcely got out of bed for the first three days. Then, gradually, he emerged into a kind of torpid life. Felicity would come home from work and find him hunched up on the sofa, watching television. So far as she could tell,
he was trying to stay clean. Harbouring a lurking fear that perhaps a heroin habit was the reason for the mess he was in, she’d already had a few furtive glances at his arms for needle marks, but had seen none. But, being Sandy, he must have been doing some drugs while he was on the streets. Maybe he’d been smoking crack. The possibility terrified her. At any rate, he didn’t appear to be doing anything at the moment. He didn’t have any money. He had signed on, but his money had yet to come through.

BOOK: A Calculating Heart
2.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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