‘Yeah, the jerk who spiked that woman’s drink and then assaulted her.’
‘Ever heard of a thing called “presumption of innocence”?’
‘He’s not innocent.’
‘I didn’t realise you were judge and jury.’
‘Hmmf,’ she growled. Her hands shook. She was in a right rage. ‘Why are you defending him?’
‘Because I happen to believe he’s innocent. And even if it’s proved he isn’t, he’s entitled to good representation.’
‘By good you mean resourceful. Get him off on some technicality…or look for some legal loophole, some procedural slip-up that renders half the evidence inadmissible?’
Daniel blinked, in a bit of a headspin. ‘No, I—’
She didn’t let him finish. ‘And what about the victim? You put her on the stand and tear shreds off her, right? Pry into her personal life? Cast shadows and doubt?’
‘Lucy, I…’ have had a really long day and don’t need this. But one look at her face and he knew he needed to straighten this out. He’d seen her cross, he’d seen her excited, but he’d never seen her looking hurt before—never this agitated. He didn’t like it.
‘Ever been a victim, Daniel? Ever known what it’s like to have someone come in and screw over your life?’
‘No. But…’ I’m guessing you have. He bit the words back. She was distressed, something must have happened and he wanted to understand, not upset her more. He stood, took her arm and marched her towards the office. ‘I think we need to continue this in private.’
She didn’t argue. Just pulled her arm roughly from his and stalked ahead into the room. He could hardly believe this was the woman who had launched on him in lust last night. She stood as far from him as possible. Arms barred tight across her body. ‘It’s so unfair. What woman would put herself through that—through the trial, have her life paraded in front of everyone—if he wasn’t guilty?’
He spoke calmly, quietly. ‘I have no doubt that something happened to her. What I doubt is whether they’ve caught the right guy.’
‘There’s a witness saying he was there.’
‘Him and half the city. There might be another explanation. Look, Lucy, my guy isn’t Snow White, but his line is burglary and car theft, not sexual assault. He’s not the sharpest tool in the box—he doesn’t have the smarts to pull something like this one off.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The cops got a match and patched the story together. It’s not a strong case, they shouldn’t have gone ahead with it because it’s not fair on anyone—let alone the victim—but I’m not going to see an innocent man go to jail.’
His reasoning didn’t stop her tirade. ‘You lawyers are all the same. Only in it for the money. I remember the law students sauntering round campus like they owned it in their flash clothes, drinking their expensive wine, thinking they were so sophisticated.’
‘Whoa, check out the size of that chip, Lucy. It’s not about money. Not for me.’ He had an inheritance. Money was never going to be an issue.
‘Really?’ she spat. ‘Is he paying you a mint?’
‘Actually he’s paying me nothing.’
That shut her up—for a moment. ‘You don’t know what it’s like. Victims don’t have a voice.’
‘Not true, Lucy. Not nowadays.’
‘The system is geared towards the defendant. When it’s he said versus she said, it seems like nine times out of ten they believe him.’ She paced the tiny room. ‘Are you putting him on the stand? Are you going to ask him all about his private life, his past, like you did her?’
‘We have to test the credibility of the witness’s evidence.’
‘Hers, sure. What about his credibility? He doesn’t have to get up there and face a scary inquisitor like you—she does. She’s the one who’s been through the wringer and you just make it worse. The bad guy gets to sit back and watch it all.’
‘We’re talking about a person’s liberty, Lucy. We have to err on the side of caution. Beyond reasonable doubt.’ Deliberately he kept his voice slow and low, forcing her to stop her pacing so she could hear him. Treating her as he would a fragile witness on the stand.
‘What about justice, Daniel? Look at the stats—the bad guys hardly ever get put away. You know this—not unless you have some solid scientific evidence. They never believe her. It’s always him.’
‘So what would you have—anarchy? Vigilantes retaliating who knows how violently in their code of justice?’
She looked at her boots. ‘Why don’t we tie a rock to him and toss him in a lake? If he sinks he’s telling the truth and if he floats he’s lying? You know, that worked for all those witches a couple of hundred years ago, didn’t it?’
He wanted to put his arms around her and cradle her—she was putting on the brave front but her eyes were over-shiny and her voice wobbled. ‘We work within the system, Lucy. I’m not saying it’s a perfect system, but it’s not bad. If we work at it, we can make it even better.’
She kicked at the ground with her toe—grudging. Almost able to concede the point.
He made contact, looping his arms around her waist. ‘Are we going to have a fight like this every time I take on a case you don’t like?’ He didn’t know where that question had come from, but it was out now.
‘No. It’ll be more often than that because there’s a lot we don’t have in common.’
Amusement rumbled in him, making him forget the moment of panic over thinking of Lucy being around for more of his cases. He liked this challenge, liked her interest, the way her mind worked. ‘I can think of one thing we have in common.’ He slid his hands to her hips, but felt how stiff she stood in the loose embrace. She was too upset for fun right now, but he wanted to restore her peace. He sent soft strokes down her back with his palms and spoke as gently as he could in her ear. ‘Are you going to tell me about it?’
Of course not! Lucy’s hackles spiked. She was never going to tell him about the worst night of her life. The night that had damned her self-confidence, cemented her ‘waste of space’ reputation and left her thinking maybe the world was right and she’d never amount to anything much. She never spoke about it. She never wanted to think about it.
Yet here she was, thinking and thinking and wanting rid of it for once and for all.
Impossible.
For long moments they stood silent. He didn’t ask again. Didn’t press the point. But she knew he was waiting. The gentle rhythm of his hands had a soothing, almost soporific effect. She felt herself slipping, his patience softening her, until resignation replaced tension. This was Daniel—he always got what he wanted. So, OK, she’d talk—a little. It wasn’t really giving in. Besides, she suddenly wanted to. She wanted to lean on his unwavering, imperishable strength, just for a moment. Somehow he did this to her. Somehow she couldn’t seem to deny him anything. But when she went to speak, anxiety knotted. It was little above a whisper.
‘You’ll think I’m even more of an idiot than you already do.’
‘I’m not sure that’s possible.’ His teasing smile tickled. He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes.
She ducked away, putting her forehead on his chest, not wanting him to see her humiliation. Not wanting his smile to disarm her further. But it was already too late—he only had to hold her like this and she’d do almost anything he asked.
‘I was seventeen. Sneaked out of the school hostel to go clubbing.’
‘Under-age Lucy.’
‘Only just.’ She sighed, unable to stop the flow now she’d started. ‘And I was breaking all the school rules. My best friend from home was in the city for the weekend and we wanted to go dancing. Harmless enough.’
‘What happened?’
‘I’m not really sure. I’d been drinking cola—nothing added, nothing else. There were a couple of guys dancing near. Then things get a little confusing. I didn’t feel so good. I went to go to the bathroom. Everything went kind
of fuzzy and this guy asked me if I was OK, said something about getting me some fresh air.’ She paused for breath. ‘I just…went…’ Her heart hit irregularly as she remembered. She skipped a bit. ‘Sienna, my friend, came out of the club—she said I’d been gone about twenty minutes. She found me as I was being led down the street. She shouted and whoever it was with me ran and I fell…’ She faltered again. ‘The thing is I don’t remember, Daniel. I don’t remember what happened.’
He’d gone very still; she could feel the tenseness in the muscles that lay just beneath his skin. She struggled on, wanting to finish it. She hadn’t spoken about this in so long and it was like breaking through a thick crust to get the words out. ‘Sienna got me back to the school hostel, but I was so sick and my hands were all bloody from landing on the concrete. Matron appeared while I was trying to sneak in the door.’
‘What did she do?’
‘She thought I’d been drinking. Said I was making it up because I was scared of being in trouble for breaking out.’
‘She didn’t get you checked out?’
‘This was Matron. She wasn’t known for being understanding. And it wasn’t the first time I’d been caught sneaking out.’ She grimaced. ‘But the next day I was still sick and she did get the doctor in.’
‘And the doctor?’
‘Believed me.’ She nodded. ‘Got the police to come and interview me.’