He sighs and bites my nose, I suspect half-playful and half in exasperation. ‘By attitude, I mean that kind of insolence. My way, Scarlett. Don’t make us fall out on our day off.’
‘Some day off.’
‘What did I just say?’ He bites the tip of my nose again. ‘Attitude.’
He raps on the door and John chirps, ‘Come in.’
‘Gregory, if John knows the truth, he’ll be prepared.’
‘Now then, old boy, good to see you again.’ John stands from behind his desk as Gregory opens the door, deliberately cutting me off.
‘Mr Harrison,’ Gregory says with a curt nod.
‘Take a seat, take a seat.’ John wafts a hand at two leather chairs then lifts a pile of documents from his desk and dumps it on the floor so we can both see him when he resumes his position. ‘Tea? Coffee?’ He flicks his wrist in front of him and assesses his Breitling. ‘It could be time for a pastry, could it not?’
I feel Gregory tense in his seat, heat emanating from him. ‘We’re fine. Can we discuss my case?’
John is visibly taken aback and must think better of ordering himself a drink and a pastry. ‘Righty-ho, old boy.’ He shuffles through some papers on his desk. ‘Ah yes, here she is. The ballistics report.’
Gregory crosses one ankle over his opposite knee and drops his shoulders from their position around his ears. ‘It suggests my story doesn’t add up.’
John’s eyes are wide. ‘Dare I ask how you already know what is in the report despite the fact your lawyer received it thirty minutes before you arrived?’
Gregory brings his hands to a steeple. ‘Best not.’
John drops the report on the desk in front of him and leans back in his chair, his upper body mirroring Gregory’s. ‘Right you are. In that case, the report suggests to me one of two things. In the first option, three witnesses, including the accused, were mistaken about what they saw and did. In the second, someone else took that shot.’
They stare at one another across the desk, neither one willing to be the first to break contact. Eventually, John blinks.
‘As I have told you before, I’m defendingyou; I am not protecting a third party.’ He shifts his focus to me and back to Gregory. ‘If you want me to help you, you need to give me the facts.’
‘You have the facts, Mr Harrison.’
‘Are you telling me the report is wrong? Because if that isyour proposed defence strategy, old boy, you might as well put yourself in shackles and chains and cart yourself off to hell now.’
I close my eyes but the image of Gregory in a prison cell won’t be blocked out. I take two deep breaths and when I open my eyes, Gregory’s watching me. He moves a hand subtly to my knee and I accept it, placing my chilled palm across his warm skin.
‘What are the options?’ He speaks to John without moving his attention from me.
John sighs. ‘Well, you can change your story. The danger being, you look like a liar. If it goes to court, you have already lost the jury. Or, you can stick to your story. Then you have three statements, assuming none of those statements change, arguing against a ballistics report. If you risk the latter, there is a good chance the prosecution will start digging for the person who really took that shot, scrutinising the forensic evidence more closely, interviewing acquaintances.’
This is falling apart and there’s only me who can stop it.
‘Of course, I will continue to look for holes in procedure. That is a technical way out but I am yet to find anything.’
Gregory takes my hand, squeezing it until I open my eyes. ‘Scarlett, would you leave us, please?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Attitude,’ he says under his breath. ‘Five minutes. This isn’t a discussion, Scarlett.’
‘No.’
‘Scarlett. Go.’
John rises from his chair and makes his way towards me. ‘If I may say, Scarlett, I think it could be helpful for me to have a chat with your boyfriend alone.’
Seriously? Now they’re in it together. Unbelievable.
