Chapter 15 #2
‘That was an absolute waste of time,’ Jemma muttered as she joined her father in the car a half-block from the city cop shop.
She felt like a kid getting picked up after work experience.
It wasn’t the police officer’s fault that the last hour had been pointless; the somewhat frustrated eye-rolling of the sergeant had reinforced her realisation that she was unable to provide them with any useful information, given that her suspicions about Mark Wilkins potentially fell under professional privilege, so couldn’t be revealed.
‘There’s no leads for them to investigate.
’ She knew the vague report that she’d signed put Kain, her ex, in prime position as a person of interest, which was nothing short of ludicrous.
In fact, perhaps she should call and warn him to expect a knock at his door?
Or would that be considered hampering a police investigation?
‘Still, it had to be done,’ Dad said.
‘Again, pointless,’ she said, as though it was his fault.
‘Except perhaps the cops might patrol past the trattoria and your grandparents’ place more frequently?’ His cold anger was cutting.
‘I’ve asked them to—but I’ve just realised Uncle Dan’s going to have a heart attack every time they cruise by.’
Dad’s shoulders eased a little and the corners of his eyes crinkled. ‘Win-win, then?’
‘Glad to see that at least you’re getting some value out of today’s embarrassment.’
‘You’re getting a free meal. We’ll go to the tratt, see how Dan’s brilliant lunch plan is working out?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Actually, I might steer clear. Don’t want to mess up Nonna’s nice shiny new glass.’
‘Mmm,’ Dad agreed, and she wondered whether his gaze was flicking to the rear-view mirror more frequently than usual.
Her own eyes strayed momentarily to the side mirror, but then she dragged her gaze forward.
‘We’re not being tailed,’ she said firmly, despite not knowing one way or another.
But if she sounded confident, everything would be all right.
That’s how her life had played out so far, no need for it to change now.
‘Whatever you say. Want to grab some Greek, then?’ He knew The Greek on Halifax was her favourite lunch spot.
Jemma shook her head. Then she nodded. ‘Actually, yes. You head over there and get us a table. I’ll just pop past work and speak with Gerard.’
‘I’ll take you there and wait.’
‘Literally two streets, Pierce. It’d take you longer to find a car park than it’ll take me to walk over to The Greek and meet you.’
Her father’s long fingers drummed the steering wheel for a moment as he navigated the streets. ‘Okay. But have your phone on. And don’t tell Sam.’
‘That you didn’t shadow me every step of the day?’
‘She’s worried about you, Jemma.’
‘Well, that’s … nice,’ she said a little uncertainly. It was odd having someone outside the family take any interest in her welfare. Other than Tien, that was.
‘Speaking of, what have you told your mum?’
There was always a reflexive twist of her gut when anyone mentioned Mum; a surge of humiliation as strong as it had been twenty years ago.
She took a breath and schooled her features.
‘About this? Nothing. You know she’ll get dramatic.
Even more so than you. Besides, I figure Uncle Dan would have filled her in by now, but she’s not bothered calling. ’
Dad frowned. ‘She all right?’
‘You mean is she using?’ Mum was intent on making up for the youth she said she’d missed out on by having Jemma so young. ‘She’s only just come back from the music festival in Albania. Guess she’s still jet-lagged.’ Doing yoga on ’shrooms for six days straight had to have a lasting effect.
She reached for the doorhandle before Dad had pulled the car to a halt near her office. ‘I’ll be over in ten. Feel free to order saganaki kefalograviera for me.’ The grilled Greek cheese and roasted cherry tomato dish would be fine cold, but it was her way of promising Dad she wouldn’t be long.
‘Okay.’ Dad leaned across the seat to look up at her as she got out. ‘Jem? Phone on, all right?’
‘Do you want me to dial you right now and leave it connected?’
‘Well, if you’re offering …’
She slammed the car door, but there was no denying that it felt better to be handling this with the support of her family.
‘Jemma!’ Tien sounded shocked as she passed his office. ‘I thought you’d gone dark. Or, like, on a witness program or something.’
‘Tien, you, of all people, should understand how they work,’ she said with an eye roll. ‘I’m just coming through to grab a file and chat with Gerard.’
‘He’s with Rohan.’
‘Of course he is.’ She straightened the immaculate blazer of her suit, glad she’d chosen the designer label for the police interview. Elegant, understated and expensive enough to give her some courage as she strode down the corridor to Gerard’s office.
‘Jemma.’ Gerard half rose from behind the custom-made desk that would crowd a boardroom. ‘Rohan’s just been filling me in.’
She hiked an eyebrow as high as it would go. ‘I’m not sure what knowledge my esteemed colleague would be able to share.’
Rohan looked confused. He hefted a stack of manila folders. ‘The Wilkins case?’
Ouch. None of her colleagues knew about the stone-through-the-window, she’d simply called to advise Gerard she’d be working remotely for a few days, and had the service forward her calls to her mobile.
‘I was bringing Gerard up to speed, as I wasn’t sure you’d be in for the meeting later in the week,’ Rohan continued.
So he had been discussing her, or, more accurately, trying to discredit her.
‘Why would I not be?’ She set her briefcase on the floor and held out her hand for the files.
‘In fact, I’ve dropped in to collect an updated copy of the physical files, as there still seem to be some details missing from your online case notes. ’
She thought she noticed a flash of amusement in Gerard’s eyes as Rohan reluctantly handed over the files.
‘I’m confident you’ll find my case notes concur with these,’ he said.
‘Gosh, I hope not,’ she said. ‘We’ll be in all kinds of trouble.’
‘Rohan was telling me that Wilkins isn’t completely happy with the way his case has been handled.’
As usual, it was hard to read anything into Gerard’s tone, but Jemma’s stomach plummeted.
She’d been right about Rohan. He was using Wilkins’s dissatisfaction to undermine her.
She narrowed her eyes. Was he actively encouraging the client’s ire …
to the extent that perhaps he even knew about the threats?
‘I’ve informed him that he is, of course, at liberty to take on another criminal lawyer,’ Rohan said glibly.
‘Oh, I just bet you have—’
‘But if he chooses to do so, he will also need to appoint another lawyer to handle his divorce.’ Rohan slid out a chair for her.
She sat. ‘But if he doesn’t have an issue with the way you’re managing that, why?’
Rohan resumed his seat, crossing one ankle over his knee and flicking an imaginary speck from his trouser cuff.
‘We’re a team, Jem. That’s the beauty of being a multifaceted firm.
If Wilkins appoints GB&A to act on his behalf, we manage all aspects of his cases.
If he ditches one of us, he loses both.’
She gasped. Despite Rohan’s unexpected solidarity, it was near impossible for a legal representative to break a retainer. ‘But how—’
Rohan ignored her interruption. ‘And, of course, he loses the advantage of the substantial—and expensive—research we’ve done.’ He nodded at the stack of files.
Losing GB&A representation of both cases would give Gerard an aneurysm—and make her the laughing stock of the cliquey South Australian legal fraternity. The remembered humiliation from her childhood tingled in Jemma’s fingers, threatening to consume her.
Gerard leaned back in his chair and assessed her over steepled fingers.
‘Once Rohan made our position clear and was able to reassure the client that, if he continues to take the advice provided by GB&A, we’re confident he is in an advantageous position with regards to both the criminal charges and a favourable divorce settlement, Mr Wilkins wisely decided to remain with us. ’
Her usually agile brain was struggling to cope with the evolving circumstances, and she didn’t trust herself to make a coherent argument against Rohan’s assessment. Besides, Rohan seemed to somehow be holding all the aces, playing both her and the client.
‘Excellent,’ she said, willing her tone to be businesslike.
‘Gerard, I was looking into those pro bono hours. I’ve sourced an opportunity to do some estate work based in the country, so, other than the meetings already in my diary, I’ll continue to work remotely for a period, and see what other opportunities there are for GB&A to pick up in the region. ’
It was a split-second, unplanned decision, but suddenly she needed to get out of the office. Out of Adelaide, to where she felt she could draw breath.
It shocked her that Settlers Bridge was the place that seemed to offer refuge.