Chapter 26 Jemma #2
Gerard nodded, closing the file and leaning back in his chair. He folded his hands on his stomach and steepled his fingers. ‘Perhaps you can explain your colleague’s plan?’
‘Your colleague’, not ‘my nephew’. Should she take comfort from the phrasing?
‘Obviously, my interpretation will miss some important nuance that Rohan sees,’ she said, determined to be impartial, ‘but, as I understand it, he’s encouraging Wilkins’s wife to ask for substantial funds prior to any divorce settlement being made. ’
‘Because … ?’ Gerard hiked an eyebrow.
‘Wilkins is charged with domestic violence. Rohan believes that if Wilkins’s wife refuses to corroborate the police statement or, better yet, refuses to appear in court, the Director of Public Prosecutions will be forced to drop the case through lack of evidence.’
‘But you think … ?’
‘I think that paving the path to divorce with gold isn’t going to help our criminal case.’
‘Nor does it help our coffers,’ Gerard said. He was always on the ball when it came to money. He frowned. ‘How does Rohan’s angle impact the criminal case?’
‘Wilkins is adamant that he didn’t physically abuse his wife, so I can and should defend the charge in court.
If his wife is coerced into refusing to take the stand, Rohan might be correct: it could result in the case being dropped.
But, as you know, that doesn’t prove Wilkins not guilty.
If he’s innocent, he should want to have his day in court and paying off his wife could completely negate any opportunity for him to clear his name.
Also, I’ve done the cost-benefit analysis, and I’m confident that if we proceed to trial, he would be found not guilty, so it makes no sense attempting to purchase his wife’s …
docility. I’m totally pro supporting women who come from domestic violence situations, but we have to find balance; we need to take care that we don’t enable profiteering from spurious, vindictive claims.’
Gerard was nodding over his steepled fingers, so she risked one more sally.
‘We both know that presumption of innocence is a fantasy when it comes to DV charges. Wealthy, middle-aged white men are particularly vulnerable to malicious charges, because the assumption by both the public and the legal fraternity is always that they are guilty.’ Gerard fitted the demographic she highlighted—if she was going down, she’d at least unsettle him.
‘We have a duty to redress the balance. Encouraging Wilkins to go to court will do that.’
‘You’re right. I’ll have a chat with Rohan, see where he thinks this is going. Anyway.’ He pushed the file back to her. ‘You know what you’re up to on this one, of course. I wanted to talk to you about the bigger picture.’
Taking the file, she resisted the impulse to use it to shield her chest. She straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to appear composed and unconcerned.
‘Tien mentioned that you’ve been working remotely because you received threats?’
Tien? She hid her shock. ‘Nothing I can’t handle. It seemed wise to draw the attention away from GB you each have your strengths. But an expansion …’
Gerard’s eyes gleamed with what Jemma recognised as avarice, which immediately kindled a challenge in her own breast. For all his idiosyncrasies and his need to be ostentatious to compete with the generational firms, Gerard was a savvy operator.
So while the notion of starting her own practice had only been the most nebulous of ideas, if Gerard thought an office was viable at Settlers Bridge, she respected his business acumen.
But a wave of intense ownership swirled through her.
Maybe she didn’t want Gerard on her turf.
Yet that was ridiculous. GB she liked to keep physical notes on prelim cases and the files for two of the more minor cases, which she could hand over to Tien, were back at the apartment, packed ready to head back to Settlers Bridge with her.
She grabbed her double-breasted Abercrombie and Fitch jacket from the coat hook in her office. The nipped-in waist buttoned snugly; the country air had led to a country appetite for country food, but, as Nonna had said the previous evening, the extra few kilos suited her.
Within a block, she’d stripped off the coat and was carrying it over her arm.
Although the weather was turning, it would remain chilly a little longer at Settlers Bridge, far from the moderating effect of the ocean.
Still, she wouldn’t need the coat; there seemed no need to go high end with her clothing in the small town.
Perhaps less artifice led to less need for armour?
Although if she did set up an office for GB she couldn’t recall ever having told Tien where her father’s cafe—or, by extension, her apartment—was.
As she made her way through the cafe to the apartment, her heart beat faster, and this time it wasn’t with excitement. Tien had been bringing her coffee for over a year. Why would he not have mentioned where it was from? Instead, he’d acted surprised when she said she lived above the cafe.
Her door was locked, the apartment secure and untouched, and she took in a deep, quavery breath.
She was being irrational; there was nothing sinister in Tien’s gesture.
He was probably just embarrassed by his slightly stalkerish tendencies.
Her address could have been pulled from the company files easily enough.
She refused to entertain for even a second the thought that Tien might be behind the notes. There was no logic, no rationale, no motive.