Unravel a Crime - Tangle With Women (18 page)

“
So where did you stay?” asked
Brakespeare, half dreading the answer. Mel picked up on his thoughts.

“
With a dancing friend. A
female dancing friend” she said emphatically. “No jiggery pokery. Too tired to
do that sort of thing when I’m dancing, Mr. Brakespeare.”

“
Seen the kids” he asked.

Her face fell and her
shoulders slumped. She shook her head. Then after a pause, she sparkled once
more. “Got ‘em on Sunday, and” she paused for emphasis, ”I got money to spend
on ‘em too. What about you?”

“
Yes, I’ve got mine on Sunday
too. Do you know I sometimes wonder if all this contact is worth it. The kids
live a life separate from yours; you gradually lose track of what to them are
everyday things, and then you see them for an artificial few hours.

If they lived with you, they’d
be doing their own thing. When you have them for contact they are with you 100%
of the time, and it’s difficult to know what to do with them. But when contact
is over – that is the depressing part - as you know.”

He showed his sadness, and in
empathy Mel put an arm around his neck and cradled her head against his
shoulder. They sat like that like that, silently, each with their own thoughts
for a few minutes. Then Mel sat upright again.

Slowly she dropped the
bathrobe from round her shoulders and to her waist.

“
Have you missed my babies?”
she asked, wriggling her chest.

“
God, she’s fantastic” thought
Brakespeare admiring her figure. No matter how many times he saw it, it always
aroused him.

Grinning broadly, slowly Mel
opened her legs, and Brakespeare, still in shirt and tie, slowly put his hand
on one of her knees.

“
Oh no you don’t” shouted Mel,
“you all smelly and in your working clothes.” She stood and hoisted her bath
robe up on her shoulders. She bent and kissed him gently on the forehead as she
tightened it round her body.

“
You just get out of those
clothes and into the bath. I’ve left the water for you. I’m clean, it’s only
soapy. Trevor’s away. We’ve got the house to ourselves. I’ll order a pizza;
there’s a bottle of red wine in the kitchen, and then once we’ve eaten I’m all
yours.”

She laughed again. “You can’t
expect a girl to hump on an empty stomach!”

Then she looked gently at him.
“Not the way you do it to her Mr. Jonny Brakespeare.”

This was the Mel that
Brakespeare loved. She had clearly been depending on his coming home, and had
the evening all planned. He also knew that she would have been anxious about
him as she waited. It was time to consummate their rather odd relationship once
more. Odd only in that that he never knew when he would see her, because of her
odd work patterns, and now that he was in Worcester, it could only be at
weekends at the most. He felt safe in her company, and when they were alone
together, each was the only person that the other was thinking about.

“
You order the pizza, I’ll
wash the week away in your body fluids,” he said, unable to resist opening her
robe and kissing her breasts, before crossing the landing into the bathroom.

He lay in the bath, topping it
up with hot water whenever necessary, until he heard the doorbell ring for the
Pizza delivery. Quickly jumping out and drying, he found his own towelling robe
and went downstairs to the kitchen where Mel had put two plates in the
microwave to warm, and had opened the wine; the Rioja that she knew that he
liked, to let it breathe.

He could hardly wait for the
meal to be over. He knew that Mel was deliberately tantalising him as she eat,
sipping her wine and gazing at him He also noted that she downed three glasses
of the delicious Spanish vintage. Mel did not have much of a resistance to wine
and never had more than two glasses - unless she intended to become
uninhibited.

“
That’s it then,” said Mel,
and started to clear the table.

Then she sipped out of her
robe, and sidling up to Brakespeare undid his. Her eyes were dark.

“
I see you’re ready for me,”
she said, and they kissed, slowly and deeply.

The touch of her firm body
with it’s oh so smooth skin, and her natural female perfume filled Brakespeare
with a passion he had rarely felt before, even with Mel.

Slowly they made their way
upstairs.

“
Your place of mine?” said
Mel, while not hesitating to lead him into her bedroom.

The quilt was pulled back on
the bed and they sank together on the fresh sheets that she had obviously put
on that afternoon. Mel was as aroused as he was and foreplay was not a
requirement that evening. Human chemistry alone worked it’s wonders

For two hours they
uninhibitedly enjoyed each other.

“
That’s it” gasped Mel pushing
him off her. “I can’t feel my legs any more. Jonny Brakespeare, what have you
done to me?”

They lay looking at each
other.

“
You’re something special,
Mel”, said Brakespeare.

Mel did not reply, but gave a
little sigh. “I’m a Jamaican…..”

“
No you’re not. You were born
and bread in Watford.”

“
Jonny, you know what I mean.”

“
What are you afraid of.?”

“
Jonny, no.”

“
But I need you.”

“
Oh no you don’t.” she broke
into one of her peals of laughter. “Go and find some white woman to hump. They
must have them in Worcester.”

“
But it wouldn’t be you.”

“
Doesn’t matter. Pussy is
pussy.” She could be incredibly crude when she wanted to be. “Besides, you can
always come back to me.”

She turned away as she said
it, and Brakespeare could tell that she didn’t mean it. She didn’t want to
share him – perhaps there was no-one else in her life after all..

Neither of them said anything
more. Brakespeare reached down to the foot of the now crumpled and damp bed,
and pulled the quilt up. He snuggled against her back, and putting his arms
round her, cupped her breasts. Very soon the pink clouds of sleep that follow
love making engulfed them both. It was a good end to the week.

Five days later, Brakespeare
was still thinking about the night with Mel.

He was thinking about it
whenever he met Lisa, and wondered if he could ever get as close to her. After
all it was Mel who had suggested that he look elsewhere, but did he really want
to? Mel was not interested in a permanent relationship. Well, that’s what she
had implied.

On the other hand could he
really see himself setting down with her? He was wise enough to know that the
test of a relationship was whether or not you still felt the same about each
other when the “can’t keep my hands off you” period was over. It wasn’t yet of
course.

There were things to think
about such as having more children. Would he want coffee coloured children
around; would he be able to see himself reflected in such a child as he could
with his present kids? What would his parents say? What would his colleagues
say? A solicitor marrying a black dancer? The problems seemed endless, and so
he tried not to think too hard about them.

It was easier to think of Lisa
as a replacement for Mel. A potential fuck buddy.

At least the thoughts took his
mind off work.

Brakespeare was relieved that
Newberry seemed to be in one of his less aggressive moods as they entered the
doors of Fountain Court Chambers in Birmingham.

He had not spoken to him since
the previous Friday, and had left it to Margaret to make the necessary
arrangements for the Conference. If Newberry was still nursing any grievance
about his treatment by the firm, he had not mentioned it on the way up.

“
It’s changed since I was last
here,” Brakespeare thought as the automatic glass doors hissed open for them,
and they entered a reception area looking for all the world like the foyer of
an upmarket hotel.

“
Take a seat”, he said to
Newberry, and went towards the reception desk where no less than three
receptionists sat with telephone headsets and microphones.

He had to wait a few minutes
until one of them finished her call, and looked at him with a smile.

“
Conference with Mr. Breezie –
Mr Newberry and Mr Brakespeare.”

“
I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Brakespeare sat next to
Newberry on one of the soft leather sofas.

“
So what’s going to happen?”
asked Newberry for at least the third time that day.

“
We’ll have a strategy meeting
as to how best to prepare your defence.”

“
I thought that we knew how –
all those spreadsheets and stuff.”

“
As I said in the car on the
way up, let’s wait and see what Breezie says”

Brakespeare looked up to find
a young man in a smart suit standing in front of him, looking at them both
enquiringly. “Mr. Brakespeare and Mr. Newberry?”

Brakespeare nodded.

“
Mr. Breezie will see you now.
Would you come this way?”

He paused while they stood up
and gathered their briefcases. He then led them up a flight of steps to the
first floor.

“
We could take the lift, but
it’s quicker this way,” he laughed politely.

He opened a door which led
into a room at the front of the building overlooking the back of the Victoria
Law Courts and Steelhouse Lane Police Station.

Philip Breezie was in his
early to mid forties, about 5’10” tall and dressed in the old fashioned
pinstriped trousers and black jacket uniform of barristers, but no waistcoat,
as perhaps as a sop to modernity.

His voice was plummy with
perfectly rounded vowels.

“
Mr. Brakespeare?” he enquired
extending his right hand. Brakespeare took it and smiled. “How do you do?”

“
And Mr. Newberry. Very
pleased to meet you.” He shook the client’s hand rather more warmly, thought
Brakespeare.

“
Do come in and sit down, both
of you.” He gestured them to where two plush chairs faced a large pedestal
table.

“
This is my pupil Giles
Fortescue. You don’t mind if he listens in on this conference, do you?” he
announced, and indicated the smart young man, who nodded appreciatively at the
foregone decision.

“
No of course not,” said
Brakespeare. “Trainee barrister,” he muttered to Newberry.

Both men took their seats, and
Fortescue moved to the end of the table, while Breezie sat down opposite them.

Brakespeare looked round the
room. It was a typical barristers chambers. The wall behind him was lined with
bookcases, while the side walls had the usual reproduction Ape and Spy prints
of Victorian Judges long since forgotten.

The table was a large one
designed to impress, and Brakespeare could see that the greater part of it’s
surface was covered with the papers which had been so laboriously copied by the
acned Tracy. Breezie had clearly flagged certain pages, and the Instructions
that Brakespeare had dictated were open, with yellow highlights marked by
Breezie. Most highlighted of all were Lisa’s spreadsheets. Breezie had
obviously read his Instructions carefully; something not all barristers did.

“
Ah, I nearly forgot. Can we
offer you some refreshment - tea, coffee, water, fruit juice.?” He leant across
towards Newberry. “I expect you’d like something stronger Mr. Newberry, but I’m
afraid that Chambers does not allow the consumption of alcohol until after 6.00
pm.”

Newberry smiled and relaxed at
the pompous joke. “Water for me please?”

“
Coffee, white, no sugar”
asked Brakespeare.

“
Giles would you do the
honours?” asked Breezie, and Fortescue picked up the telephone in front of him
and passed the order down to whoever was at the other end of the line. He and
Breezie were also having coffees.

“
So, Mr. Newberry, not a very
happy state of affairs.”

Newberry leant forward as if
about to say something, but Breezie continued.

“
I have read all the papers
that Mr. Brakespeare has kindly forwarded to me, including the witness
statements, particularly that of Mr. Black, Mr Brakespeare’s summary of your
position and of course these splendid analyses.“ he waved the spreadsheets, and
then paused. “Mr. Newberry, you are a professional man, and so I’m not going to
beat about the bush. These are serious charges. It is not going to be easy to
defeat them.”

“
But what about the
spreadsheets?” asked Newberry

“
They help, but I am afraid
that they do not defeat the Prosecution’s case. The charge against you Mr.
Newberry is that you, and I quote, ‘ensured’ that the National Building Society
would accept as security for loans properties, which in essence had not been
properly valued.”

“
But they had been properly
valued!”

Breezie put up his hand. “Pray
forgive me Mr. Newberry, my time is yours as far as this case is concerned, but
I think that we can use it most profitably if you would allow me to deliver my
preliminary opinion, and then we can discuss it at length.”