Guaranteed Justice (15 page)

“Come on, you two. Don’t let him get to you. I know it’s difficult, but if you show him he has little effect on you, it’ll unnerve him. My advice would be not to look in his direction when you step into the witness box. Katy will be in there to support you. Look at her, the jury, the prosecutor, or the defence solicitor. Do not look Gibson’s way, agreed?”

Ami and Linda nodded their agreement as the usher of the court called Cally Little’s name. The woman and her mother stood and walked towards the court. Cally hesitated for a moment before she pushed her shoulders back and marched into the courtroom. Her mother waited a few moments before she walked in after her.

“That’s my cue to get in there, I think,” Katy said. She brushed down her skirt and set off.

“See you at lunchtime,” Lorne called out after her.

The morning dragged by. Lorne paced the flag-stoned corridor virtually the whole time as she waited for Cally to emerge from court. The three girls didn’t utter a single word, each of them lost in her own terrified thoughts.

Finally, at twelve fifteen, the court doors were thrown open, and a small crowd of people surged out. As Katy marched towards them, Lorne noticed a tearful Cally come out of the court, her mum’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, comforting her. Well, that doesn’t bode well.

“There’s a café around the corner; let’s grab some lunch,” Lorne stated when Katy joined them.

Reluctantly the three girls followed Katy and Lorne out the entrance into the bustling street, where the press pounced on them. With the three girls between them, Katy and Lorne pushed through the predatory press pack.

“Come on, girls. Give us your side of what happened?” shouted one of the journalists.

“No comment. You know better than to ask such foolish questions,” Lorne responded harshly. “Leave us alone, and go pester the defendant instead.”

“Thought you had left the force, Simpkins. What brings you here?” asked a journalist Lorne knew well and disliked intensely.

“These ladies are friends of mine. Now, if you don’t mind.”

Recognising they weren’t going to get any gossip out of the group, the crowd quickly dispersed.

Lorne pushed open the café door and let out a relieved sigh. From the girls’ appearances, the press experience had shaken them up pretty badly.

She ordered bacon rolls and coffees for all five of them, then joined the others at the table. She tried her hardest to make small talk, but no one was really interested in engaging in futile conversation. Whilst eating her bacon roll, she asked Katy quietly, “How’s it looking in there?”

Katy swallowed what she was chewing and frowned. “To be honest, it’s not what I was expecting at all.”

“Oh, in what way?” Lorne took another bite of her roll; she was hungrier than she thought, after missing her breakfast.

“Gibson’s playing a crafty game.”

Lorne quickly glanced over at the other girls to see if they’d heard. They hadn’t. “What do you mean?”

“I reckon his solicitor has told him to try to gain the jury’s sympathy. When Cally was giving her evidence, I would’ve expected him to look arrogant and to try to intimidate her in some way, but he didn’t. To me, he looked the picture of innocence.”

Lorne drew in a heavy breath. “Damn. All we can hope for is that his little plan backfires in some way. Is Cally returning to the stand after lunch?”

Katy took a sip of coffee. “I think so. The poor thing is finding it tough up there. His solicitor is tearing her statement to pieces.”

“There was another witness to her attack though, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure if the guy is here or not. I haven’t seen him.” Katy wrinkled her nose.

“If he isn’t called, that could seriously damage our case,” Lorne said, worried.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C
ourt resumed promptly at
two, and poor Cally Little was called to take the stand again. After half an hour, a distraught Cally came running out of the court, barged past a few people who were waiting by the entrance, and fled into the street.

Lorne glanced at the three girls, all of whom were sitting wide-eyed in fear. Before she had the chance to reassure them, the usher shouted Linda’s name. Linda covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

Fiona grabbed it, and pulled Linda to her feet. “Don’t crumble, sweetheart. This is your opportunity to get this man off the streets. Think of that, please.”

“Listen to your sister, Linda. Think positively, tell the truth, and justice will prevail. Good luck. Fiona will be with you every step; Katy is inside too. Remember what I said: Don’t look at him.” Lorne pecked Linda on the cheek as the usher called her name for a second time.

If Lorne didn’t know any better, she would have said that Linda was on the verge of passing out, all colour had drained from her face, there was a dazed look in her eyes, and her legs seemed to be unsteady. Serious doubts were beginning to gather momentum in Lorne’s mind about if either Linda or Ami would be able to go through with the torment of court, after all.

Fiona escorted Linda to the courtroom entrance and stood back for a count of three before she followed her in.

Lorne was dying to be inside the court, but she had to remain with Ami, who was shaking from head to toe, looking like the fight was evaporating with every breath she took and that she was capable of taking flight at any second. They sat side by side on the uncomfortable wooden bench, Lorne protectively clutching Ami’s hand in her lap. She could feel the girl trembling, and her palm became sweatier by the minute.

About an hour later, Lorne could feel her phone vibrating in her jacket pocket. She removed it from her pocket and was surprised to see her home number being displayed. “Excuse me a minute.”

She stood up and walked halfway up the hallway before answering, “Tony? Is that you?”

“Sorry, babe. I was just wondering how things are going?”

“It’s okay. I’m outside the court with Ami. Linda’s on the stand now. It’s hard to tell how it’s going in there, although Katy is suspicious of the way Gibson is behaving.”

Tony snorted. “That figures. His QC would’ve told him to be on his best behaviour to try to gain the jury’s sympathy. How are the girls holding up?”

“So-so. The other witness left the court about an hour ago in a terrible state. The girls were unnerved by Cally’s reaction—Cally’s the other witness. How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“A bit better. Tell the girls to stay strong. Oh, by the way, you had a visitor this morning.”

“Sounds ominous. Was it someone wanting to rehome one of the dogs?”

“Kind of. A woman in her late forties—early fifties, maybe. She said she met you a few years back, helped you crack a serial killer case or something.”

Lorne thought it over for the briefest of moments before the woman’s picture filled her mind. “Oh, you mean Carol Lang, the psychic.”

“That’s the one. Seemed a little weird to me.”

“Did she say what she wanted?” Lorne asked, turning to check how Ami was doing.

“Apparently her dog died last month. She saw the ad in the local at the weekend and recognised your name. I told her you’d be out all day, and she went all weird on me.”

“Really? In what way?” The one and only time Lorne had met Ms Lang had been when Pete, her old work partner, had been alive. He had been a cynic and doubted Ms Lang’s skills, which in the end had indeed helped solve the case in which Lorne was abducted by a serial killer. During one of her insightful visions, Carol Lang had passed out in Lorne’s office. Now, that was weird.

“Well, after she told me off for not being tucked up in bed, she sort of went off on a tangent. Started omming, if you like. When I said you’d be back later this evening, she knew instantly where you were.”

“Really? She knew I was in court, you mean?”

“Yep. Anyway, she wants to see you in person. She’s going to call you this evening.”

“Sounds mysterious, as usual. We’ll find out what’s up later, then. Go get some rest, love. Have you and Dad eaten lunch?”

“I heated up the soup you left in the pot. Your dad didn’t eat much. I think we should call the doc out tomorrow if he’s no better this evening. I’ll let you go. Love you.”

“Love you too, Tony. Get some rest.” She blew her husband a kiss and hung up, then strolled casually back to Ami, who jumped when she sat down beside her.

“It’s all right; it’s only me. Sorry about that; Hubby was checking up on me.” Lorne laughed, but Ami’s face didn’t even crack into a smile.

Ami’s gaze returned to staring at the panelled wall opposite, and she looked lost in thought. Lorne struggled to gain her attention.

The rest of the afternoon dragged by. Finally, at four forty-five, the doors to the court opened, Linda and Fiona came marching up the hallway towards them. At first glance, Linda appeared fine; she didn’t seem as though she’d been through any kind of ordeal in the past few hours. Fiona gave a half-smile, letting Lorne know that things had gone as well as expected.

Katy emerged with the rest of the crowd several minutes later.

Lorne rushed to meet her. “How did it go, Katy?”

“The defence counsel was far easier on Linda than I had anticipated. It’s hard to tell what the hell they’re playing at. Maybe they didn’t see Linda as the easier target and they’re saving all the shit for when Ami gets up there.”

“Christ, I hope not. Linda is the stronger of the two. I’m not sure Ami is up for this, full stop. If I hadn’t been with her this afternoon, I get the impression she would’ve bolted.” Lorne motioned with her head for Katy to turn round.

Gibson and his QC had joined his parents at the other end of the hallway. Their demeanour—for all of them—was jovial.

As if he sensed Lorne was looking at him, Gibson turned in her direction, flashed his brilliant white teeth, and raised a confident eyebrow. The smarmy bag of shit. Lorne didn’t often get bad vibes about a case. She was always one to think positive till the end, but something niggled in the pit of her stomach.

They waited for the gloating group to leave the courtroom before they attempted to go back to their cars. Again, they watched from the stone steps outside as the bustling press pack jostled Gibson’s group. Lorne urged the girls to hurry while the press were distracted. Lorne and Katy saw the girls back to their vehicle and waved them off.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it tomorrow, Lorne,” Katy said as they went up a level in the car park to where both their cars were parked.

“I understand, Katy. I appreciate you coming here today. The girls did, too. Let’s hope Ami has the courage to turn up tomorrow; I have my doubts.”

Katy searched in her bag for her keys and unlocked her car. “She does look extremely fragile. Good luck with helping her keep it all together. I’ll give you a ring tomorrow evening, about seven?”

“Thanks, Katy. Speak soon.” Lorne watched Katy drive away before she sought out her own car, deep in thought.

Something pointed that felt like a gun was placed at the base of her spine. “Turn round, and you’re dead, lady.”

Lorne swallowed hard. Crap, you let your guard down. The gunman jabbed her, forcing her to move forward. Before long, they had reached the edge of the car park and the three-foot high wall. Her heart pounded as the voice told her to get up on the wall. She tried to turn, but the gun jabbed her hard in the spine. She cried out in pain.

“I said, get up on the wall,” the man repeated angrily.

Lorne dropped her handbag on the floor beside her and attempted to climb the wall. She huffed and puffed, making out that she was struggling to reach it.

“Stop playing with me, Simpkins. Put some effort in, or I’ll shoot you on the spot.”

Think, girl. Think. She attempted a second time and tumbled back, wincing as the gun caught her in the kidney. “I can’t do it.”

She heard the gunman release a frustrated breath. “Hitch your fucking skirt up around your arse if you have to. Lost the ability to think properly since you left the Met, have you?”

Lorne knew she wouldn’t be able to stall for time much longer. She hitched up her skirt and attempted to clamber on to the wall. She glanced over the edge and almost lost her stomach; a fifty-foot drop had the ability to affect a person like that.

With the gun no longer pressed in her back, her brain started to function better. She groaned with exertion as she pulled herself onto the wall. The man laughed behind her.

She took the opportunity to fall back against him. The gun clattered to the ground.

“What the fuck—”

Lorne kicked the gun under a nearby car, out of his reach, and flew at the masked man, her arms flailing in all directions.

He was slow to react, obviously lost without his gun to hide behind. A few karate chops landed on either side of his head. He cried out in pain and ran off.

“Come back here, you cowardly piece of shit,” she screamed at his retreating back as he ran through the door that led to the stairwell. Getting down on all fours, she took a handkerchief from her bag and reached under the car to retrieve the gun.

She rang Katy. “Katy, it’s me. Can you come back to the car park? Someone just tried to kill me,” she said breathlessly from her exertions.

“What? I’m on my way.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

L
orne flinched when Katy’s
car screeched to a halt beside her. She raised her hand. “Calm down. I’m fine, honestly. I managed to disarm him. He ran off. No point chasing him; he’ll be long gone by now.”

“Jesus! Did you get a good look at him, Lorne?”

“Nope. He had a balaclava on. I have my suspicions, though.” Lorne handed the wrapped gun to Katy.

Katy pulled back the handkerchief and had a peek at it. Shaking her head, she said, “Someone meant business. Who do you think it was?”

“Are you kidding me? Gibson, of course. It has to be.”

Katy’s face was full of uncertainty. “You think? The last we saw of him, he was walking away with his parents.”

Lorne felt like pummelling the side of Katy’s head. “Think about it, Katy—the threatening email and phone call. All right, I get your point, but it needn’t have necessarily been him. He could’ve paid someone to attack me.”