Page 43 of Traitors Gate

‘Good to see you, Bruce,’ said Miles, after Collins had shown his guest through to the study. The two men shook hands as if they were old friends, although neither considered the other more than an acquaintance who from time to time served a purpose.

‘It’s good to see you again too, sir,’ said Lamont as Miles ushered him into a comfortable chair by the fire. Another first.

‘Sorry about the short notice,’ said Miles, ‘but something has come up that I think can only be described as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. However, I wouldn’t consider going ahead with such a demanding challenge, without your particular expertise.’

‘I’m flattered,’ said Lamont, which was exactly what Miles had intended, ‘and will be only too happy to assist if I possibly can.’

‘Of course, there’s an element of risk involved,’ continued Miles. ‘But I’m confident I’ve found a way of minimizing that, and if we can get the timing right, completely eliminating it.’

‘I’m intrigued.’

‘What I’m about to tell you, Bruce, is highly confidential, so much so that I will only be sharing the finer details with two other close associates, both of whom you’ve already had dealings with in the past.’

Lamont suspected he knew who they were.

‘There will, however, be a large cast of extras involved in the final performance, who will play a vital role before the curtain rises. But like any audience, they will not know the ending until the curtain comes down. With that in mind, there will have to be several dress rehearsals.’ The ex-Chief Superintendent didn’t interrupt. ‘Yesterday,’ began Miles, ‘I had a second meeting with a Mr Phil Harris, who is currently …’

Lamont remained on the edge of his seat and didn’t interrupt the boss for the next twenty minutes.

• • •

Ross had been looking forward to the Reg Simpson case, because he despised anyone who tried to tempt children with drugs, knowing they would then have a helpless customer under their control. He hoped he would be called early, as he needed to get to St Luke’s before four o’clock. He’d promised Jojo he’d be there in time to see the class’s end of term art exhibition. Jojo thought she just might win a prize.

And there was also another reason he wanted to be there …

The first thing Ross did on arrival at Southwark Crown Court was to check with the clerk when he thought he might be called.

‘There are two witnesses before you, Inspector,’ the clerk said, looking at his list, ‘so you should be called before lunch. Latest two o’clock.’

More than enough time, thought Ross, as he sat down in a draughty soulless corridor waiting for proceedings to begin. He kept checking his watch during the next two hours, but he wasn’t called. And what made it worse, he couldn’t enter the court and find out how the case was proceeding.

The lunch break came and went and, despite the clerk’s prediction, he still hadn’t been called. When the clerk stepped out into the corridor at the start of the afternoon session, Ross leapt up.

‘Mr Ken Simpson,’ he pronounced for all to hear. Ross sank back down as the defendant’s brother made his way into the court, disappointed that he now wouldn’t make Jojo’s art show, let alone have a chance to invite Ms Clarke out to dinner.

Another forty minutes passed before he was eventually called. When he entered the witness box, he took the Bible in his right hand and didn’t have to read the oath from the card being held up by the clerk of the court. Once the oath had been administered, Ross turned to face prosecuting counsel, who greeted him with a warm smile.

‘Please state your name and rank for the record.’

‘Ross Hogan. I’m a Detective Inspector attached to the Royalty Protection squad,’ he said, before looking directly at the jury.

‘And were you, until recently, Princess Diana’s personal protection officer?’

‘I had that privilege,’ replied Ross.

A woman seated in the front row of the jury box sat up and took a closer look at Ross.

‘Can I also confirm that you have twice been awarded the Queen’s Gallantry Medal and, during your distinguished career, have received no fewer than six police commendations?’

‘I think, Sir Julian,’ interrupted the judge, ‘you have established the witness’s commendable record as a police officer, so perhaps it’s time to move on.’

‘Or have you?’ murmured Booth Watson, loud enough for both the judge and jury to hear.

‘I’m glad you feel that’s the case, m’Lud,’ suggested Sir Julian, ignoring his learned friend, before turning back to face the witness. ‘Inspector, perhaps you would take us through what happened on the afternoon of Monday 4th November when you went to St Luke’s School in Fulham to pick up your daughter.’

‘I arrived a few minutes early, and while I was reversing into a parking space, I saw the defendant was involved in a heated conversation with one of the teachers.’

‘Did you recognize the teacher in question?’

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