In Safe Keeping (4 page)

Laila smiled and reached for her legal pad. She didn’t want gratitude. She wanted to help these people get compensation, and more than anything she wanted to clear her husband’s name.

‘I don’t think the top brass will be laying out the welcome mat for me Trudy, and I’m more useful this way. I’m making progress, but it’s a long and involved process.’

‘I understand.’

‘Don’t lose heart.’ She didn’t want to give her friend false hope, but she didn’t want Trudy losing faith either. ‘The court is more sympathetic to a class action than a whole host of separate, individual suits. And it’s more cost effective this way. It’s important we get it right.’

Trudy nodded again, balling the tissue in the palm of her hand.

‘Well,’ Laila said, standing up and coming out from behind the desk. ‘I guess that’s it for now.’

At the door, the two women hugged, clinging together for a few moments.

‘I remember the day you graduated.’ Trudy’s smile was sad, and there was a faraway look in her tired eyes. ‘Will was so proud of you. Who would have thought back then, half the unit would be gone, and we’d be suing the military?’

Laila put her arm around Trudy as they walked down the corridor and into the waiting room. ‘It’s unbelievable, I know.’

‘And
I
know
this
face.’ A deep voice boomed from the waiting room. It was Mike, rolling his wheelchair out from behind the reception desk.

Trudy squealed her surprise and made a beeline for him. ‘What are
you
doing here?’

‘I’m here to see you.’ Mike wrapped his over-developed arms around Trudy’s waist as she leaned down and almost choked him with a hug. ‘I work here now. Didn’t Laila tell you?’

‘No.’ Trudy straightened and gave her an accusing glare.

Laila laughed. Suddenly, Trudy looked like her old, gregarious self, flitting around the mess hall with her list, telling everyone what plate they had to bring along for the next social occasion. God! How she missed those times and the company of her friends.

‘I haven’t been here very long. I’m Laila’s clerk. The legs mightn’t work, but I’m a gun on the computer. Pardon the pun.’

‘I know.’ Trudy gushed. ‘You were our “go to” man. We miss you.’

Mike raised his hands and made a touch-typing gesture. ‘Now you know where to find me.’

Trudy laughed again and caught Laila’s eye. ‘I’m so proud of both of you. You’ve moved on with your lives.’

Moved on? Maybe Mike had to some degree. He was enjoying the job so much he was considering studying law. But Laila didn’t feel like she’d moved on; she felt like a car stuck in neutral. She’d never understood the concept of moving on anyway. How could a person slam the door on one part of their life and blithely open another? Life for her didn’t work that way. She was the sum total of her experiences, the beautiful and the burdensome. She’d missed Will every single day for the past four years, and then six weeks ago Evan Barclay had drawn her to him with the force of his personality, breathing life into her numb body.

Now, she had to ‘move on’ again.

As Mike and Trudy caught up on each other’s news, Laila’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night at The Bowery. In hindsight, she was glad she’d raised the courage to front up at Poole Greenwood. Apart from the night she’d met Evan, they’d never been out in public together. Last night, she’d had a few minutes to observe him in his usual environment, a scene of corporate deals, takeovers and lucrative property developments. He pressed the flesh with merchant bankers and international consortiums, no doubt concerned with the return on the dollar and the company’s bottom line. That side of him wasn’t apparent when he was naked in her bed, but in the cold light of day it was clear that they moved in entirely different circles.

Despite that, she’d missed him last night, missed his heat, the strength of his arms around her, his hands and lips on her body. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his shocked expression at her parting words. She’d tossed and turned, half listening for a knock at the door, half hoping he’d come over for break-up sex.

She’d still been awake when Grind came home around 4 a.m.

Laila checked her watch. Grind hadn’t returned her call. He probably wasn’t awake yet.

‘Laila?’ Mike said quietly.

Laila looked up to see her next appointment standing in the doorway. Six feet tall in heels and model slim, Scarlett Peyton wore a red tailored skirt suit accessorised with a red and gold silk scarf. Gold jewellery flashed at her ears and wrists, her long dark hair swept to the side in one large curl that hung over her shoulder.

Here was a woman who circulated easily within Evan’s social circle.

‘I’m sorry I’m early.’ Scarlett glanced at Trudy, clearly mistaking her for a member of staff. ‘I assumed the traffic would be heavier.’

‘That’s fine Scarlett,’ Laila broke in. ‘Go through to my office. I’ll only be a moment.’

As Scarlett passed by in a cloud of Chanel, Laila walked over and caught Trudy in a quick embrace.

‘Take care Trude.’ She smiled at Trudy’s gobsmacked expression. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

In her office, Laila closed the door and sat opposite Scarlett, watching as the woman’s gaze flicked around the room as if assessing the decor, or lack of it. Apart from her practising certificate and a print of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the walls were unadorned, the office furniture basic.

‘I meant to ask last time how you came to hear of my firm.’ It was strange, but she couldn’t see this woman partnering the man with the too-long hair she’d seen talking to Evan last night.

Scarlett crossed her slim legs and fixed her vivid blue eyes on Laila. ‘I did my research.’

Laila raised an eyebrow. ‘I wasn’t aware I was famous.’

‘You’re not.’

Scarlett smiled, softening her words. ‘I didn’t want any of the big firms acting for me. My husband’s family have contacts far and wide — it’s hard to escape the web. I need someone I can trust, someone who can’t be manipulated.’

‘Then you’ve come to the right place.’ Laila leaned back in her chair and opened the Peyton file. She’d been right. Scarlett would be unimpressed if she learned of her relationship with her husband’s solicitor, however casual it may be.

‘As long as you’re aware I specialise in acting for the wives of our defence force. I’d be remiss if I didn’t point that out.’

Scarlett raised one professionally shaped brow. ‘Why do you think I chose you? I know all about the Blackhawk Foundation. You only charge the minimum fee for your legal services, and when clients can afford it you ask them to donate the balance of your costs to the foundation.’

‘You
have
done your homework.’

Scarlett eyes flashed. ‘Oh, I always do my homework.’

Laila stayed quiet. She had to admit she was impressed by Scarlett’s diligence. Fees hadn’t been discussed at their previous appointment. Scarlett had been upset. Today, she was more contained.

The other woman leaned forward in her chair. ‘I have a proposition for you. Get me custody of my children, and the settlement I want, and charge me at the hourly rate a
name
firm would charge. I’m guessing that’s roughly double your standard hourly rate. After that, I’m happy to become a patron of your charity, if you like.’

Laila tried not to let her excitement show. The Peytons were known as a philanthropic family, particularly Duncan’s mother, who sat on the board of a number of Sydney charities. Negotiating a satisfactory property settlement for Scarlett would result in the foundation receiving a much-needed injection of cash.

‘That’s a very gracious offer, thank you.’ Laila folded her arms on the desk and looked her client straight in the eye. ‘As for the other, I’ll agree to get you a reasonable and
fair
settlement, after I’ve seen the Statement of Financial Circumstances of course.’

‘I only want what’s fair,’ Scarlett said quickly.

That remained to be seen. In Laila’s experience, couples often began with the intention of working everything out amicably. It rarely happened.

Laila picked up the affidavit she’d prepared from the top of the file. ‘While it’s smart to avoid a long, drawn-out court battle, it’s vital we move quickly to protect your interests. Bearing in mind the substantial family assets, there’s no avoiding court at this early stage.’

She slid the document across the desk. ‘This is a short affidavit in support of the orders we’re seeking. It’s straightforward. Basically, it sets out the concerns you have about your husband.’

As Scarlett read through the affidavit, Laila was gripped with more nervous excitement at the prospect of going up against a powerhouse firm like Poole Greenwood. Would her former lover appear on Duncan’s behalf, or would he hand it over to someone on his team?

She couldn’t help wondering if he was working today, preparing Duncan as she was preparing his wife. Despite his declaration that he hated family law, she knew he’d be very much involved in the case. And she was under no misapprehension. Evan Barclay would make a formidable opponent.

‘That’s all fine.’

Scarlett’s voice brought Laila back to the present, and they spent the next twenty minutes discussing the merits of sharing custody of the children. Eventually, the affidavit was signed and witnessed, the meeting at an end.

In the waiting room, Laila shook Scarlett’s hand. ‘Be sure you’re at the court by 9 a.m. sharp. The judge is certain to have questions.’

Scarlett left, and Laila stood alone in the quiet waiting room. Mike and Trudy were catching up over coffee somewhere. She’d heard Mike suggesting it as she’d followed Scarlett into her office.

In two minds whether to join them, she took her phone from her jacket pocket. There were no voicemail messages or texts as to their whereabouts. Mike’s desk was also free of the sticky notes he often used to leave her messages.

Laila straightened her shoulders, annoyed with herself for feeling a little let down. It was better this way. The conversation was always censored when she was around.

Her eyes cut to the picture of the Blackhawk helicopter hanging on the wall. In addition to the class action, she now had a huge divorce case to handle on top of all her other matters. The sooner she got to work the better.

Deciding to put Eddie’s file away, Laila moved towards the two steel filing cabinets housing the foundation’s paperwork. Side by side, they stood in a small alcove behind the reception desk. Taking a bunch of keys from her pocket, she located the right one and held it up to the lock.

Laila froze.

The drawer was already open, only a few millimetres, no more than the width of her index finger — but it was definitely open.

Laila’s heart began to race as she dropped the keys back in her pocket. Careful not to touch the surface, she inspected the cabinet. There was a clear dent in the steel frame where the lock had been jemmied open.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She’d unlocked the cabinet when she’d arrived this morning, taken out Eddie’s file, and locked it again immediately. As she always did.

When had this happened? Apart from her, only Mike, Trudy and Scarlett had been in the office today.

Laila turned to inspect the second cabinet. Again, the top drawer had been prised open. This time, there were scratches on the side where a steel implement had scrapped off some paint.

Hasty work.

Had it been done while she was seeing Trudy, before Mike had arrived? Or maybe in the last forty minutes while she’d been in the office alone with Scarlett?

It was a brazen move. Then again, it could just be kids looking to steal the petty cash. It had happened before. If that’s all it was, it was hardly worth calling the police.

With that in mind, Laila checked the petty cash tin in the middle drawer of Mike’s desk. Most of the fifty-dollar float was intact. Could the intruder have gone to the filing cabinet first, only to hightail it when they heard voices from the inner office and realised they weren’t alone?

Laila pulled a handful of tissues from the box on Mike’s desk so she wouldn’t disturb the fingerprints, and pulled open the top drawer of the cabinet.

Oh shit!

This wasn’t the work of kids. Every file had been taken out then shoved back inside in a haphazard fashion. Some of the clear plastic tabs had fallen off the file holders, and a few random papers had even come loose.

Laila stared at the mess in dismay. This was the last thing she needed. With the Peyton case looming on Monday, she still had a ton of work to get through. The class action could be put aside for a bit, at least until Trudy returned Eddie’s paperwork.

And now she had to call the police. They’d want to brush the office for fingerprints, and see if anything was missing. How could she establish that? Going through the filing cabinets would take the rest of the weekend.

A sudden movement of air had Laila’s heart leaping, and she swung around, every nerve ending in her body firing. The waiting room stared back at her, silent, empty, and it took a few moments to realise the sound had come from Mike’s computer. It was on, and the fan had kicked in.

Laila reached for the cordless mouse and went cold all over as the screensaver disappeared, revealing a message at the bottom of the screen.

It is safe to remove external drive E.

Mike would never copy anything from the office system without asking her permission. This
had
to have been done by the same person who’d rifled through the filing cabinets.

Laila’s eyes flicked to the computer’s USB ports.

Empty.

The device had been removed in a hurry, before the screen prompt had appeared.

A faint movement caught her eye and she jerked her head around. Outside, in the corridor, someone was standing on the other side of the frosted glass partition.

Eyes glued to the shadowy outline, Laila came out from behind the desk. People often worked on the weekend, but usually they were coming and going. They didn’t loiter outside, unless they were talking to someone else.

Laila’s glanced towards the door. She hadn’t locked it after Scarlett had left. If this was the same person who’d gone through her office, a few quick strides and he’d be back inside.