Crown Court Killer Read online

  “Bit harsh.” Osian didn’t think they’d done so badly in the past, even if identifying the killer had been more accidental than intentional. “We’re not completely useless.”

  Haider pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving his glasses up and sighing so deeply that Osian wondered if it came from the depths of his soul. “Please don’t make my case more complicated than necessary.”

  “Have a little faith.” Osian tried to appear contrite. He wasn’t sure he succeeded. “Can we see Wayne?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you once we’ve finished.” Haider answered a call on his phone, stepping outside for privacy.

  Osian watched the detective speak animatedly on the phone. “How do you sneak a body into the boot of a car without damaging the boot?”

  “No idea.” Dannel shrugged. “They went out last night. Maybe they stole Wayne’s keys, killed Barnaby and shoved him in the boot…”

  “And returned the keys without anyone the wiser?” Osian had to admit stranger things had happened. “It’s not the most implausible crime we’ve ever heard of.”

  Haider stepped back into his office, slipping his phone into his pocket. “As much as I enjoy bantering with you two, I’m going to have someone escort you outside. I can’t have you hanging about while I speak with Mr Dankworth.”

  “Haider?” Osian felt a knot in the pit of his stomach.

  “Trust me to do my job.” He gestured toward the constable now standing by the door. “I’m sure Constable Ortea or Mr Dankworth will speak with you soon.”

  “I trust you,” Osian admitted.

  It’s everyone else who’s anxious to close a case without actually solving the crime that I don’t trust.

  FOUR

  DANNEL

  “Don’t the police usually escort people into the station and not out the door?” Dannel had waited for the constable to return to the building before commenting. “What exactly did Haider think we’d do if left alone in his office?”

  “Rummage through his files for information?” Osian sat on one of the brick walls on either side of the steps. “Why don’t I text Roland? He’s probably not in the interrogation room. He might be able to fill us in on what’s happening.”

  Sitting on the wall opposite him, Dannel tried not to notice the constable keeping an eye on them from inside the station. He pulled out his own phone. A little research would help make the time pass by more quickly.

  What was the victim’s name again?

  Barry Shallow?

  No. Bugger. Why am I always so pants at remembering names and faces?

  “Barnaby Sharrow.” He cringed and lowered his voice immediately. One day I’ll be able to not shout everything. It’ll be brilliant. Osian caught his attention, obviously interested in what he’d found. He read off from the Adam Street Chambers website. “Barnaby Sharrow. Defence Barrister. Experienced in difficult and sensitive cases. A talented courtroom advocate dedicated to working with you and your solicitor to advance your case.”

  “Quite the CV. Was he a junior barrister, or had he progressed to Queen’s Counsel?”

  “He’s not taken the silk yet,” Dannel recalled the term Wayne often used for those who’d been appointed to the respected role. “His wife works on the clerk’s team at the Adam Street Chambers.”

  “Does she?” Osian came over to sit beside him. “Maybe she caught him having an affair.”

  An affair was definitely a motive. They’d discussed so many crimes on their podcast involving one partner killing the other over cheating. She was definitely on the top of his list of suspects.

  He figured the police would be investigating her. They had to be. If nothing else, Haider tended to be incredibly thorough in solving his cases.

  “Or he caught her.” Dannel continued perusing the website. “They’ve defended a number of high-profile characters based on the cases they list.”

  “Defence barristers usually do. Everyone deserves good representation, whether guilty or not.” Osian motioned for him to click on one of the links. “Any names amongst the barristers stand out?”

  “Not really.” Dannel scrolled through the long list of barristers. “I wonder if Barnaby lost anyone else’s case like he did for Wayne’s clients.”

  A quick internet search brought up several articles about Barnaby, including one about his death. Dannel skimmed each one. He dismissed most of them as useless.

  “Willa claimed the judge was an old friend of Judie Sharrow née Astley.” Osian had his phone out as well. “Hamnet Allsop. Let’s see what we can find out about him. Well, he looks like someone straight out of one of Ian’s plays.”

  Hamnet Allsop looked exactly like his name sounded to Dannel. A member of the wealthy upper crust of society, friends with members of parliament and other dignitaries. He’d gone to all the right schools, knew all the right people, and had a country estate to retreat to in the summer as if they were still living in Edwardian times.

  “I imagine boarding school wasn’t a walk in the park with a name like Hamnet.” Dannel did an internet search cross-referencing the judge’s name with Barnaby Sharrow. “Interesting. Loads of articles about him in connection with the Astley family.”

  “What about Sharrow?”

  “Not much. Most of the articles mention Judie Astley.” Dannel clicked on an article with a family name. “Solicitor Willa Abraham and her client Satish Misra blame Barrister Barnaby Sharrow for the loss of his suit against his employer. Mr Misra claims Sharrow mishandled evidence in his case, costing him potentially millions.”

  Osian glanced up from reading the article along with Dannel. “Here we go.”

  Dannel followed his gaze to find Roland, Wayne, and his solicitor coming out of the station. “Finally.”

  “Have you two been giving the detectives a hard time?” Wayne gave them both a tired smile. He leaned into Roland, who had an arm around him. “I could do with something to eat. Sorry, you’ve missed your game.”

  “Sod the game.” Osian jumped off the wall. “Why don’t we pick something up and head over to our flat? It’s comfortable and private.”

  “Both equally important.” Dannel teetered on the edge of being overstimulated from the stress and chaos of the morning. He hated when their schedule changed rapidly without warning. “Why don’t we swing by Pizza Pilgrims? Grab enough for the five of us if your solicitor wants to join us.”

  “Bradley Nichols, life saver. Meet Roland’s brother, Dannel, and his tag along, Osian Garey.” Wayne peered behind him at the police station. “Shall we? You’re more than welcome to join us, Nichols, unless you’ve work to be done.”

  “On a weekend? I’m supposed to be enjoying a bit of rest and relaxation.” Bradley didn’t bat an eyelid when Osian shook his hand, but Dannel simply waved. “Since I’ve the only vehicle, why don’t I give everyone a lift? Just point me in the right direction.”

  After a bit of conferring, Roland headed to Wayne’s flat to keep an eye on the police presence there. He made them promise to keep him informed. Dannel could see the worry on his brother’s face.

  Who could blame him?

  Bradley Nichols reminded Dannel of a solicitor from a show on the telly. He had the gravity of one. Like he’d burst into a rousing speech at any second to win his case.

  While they made their way to Pizza Pilgrims, Dannel stared out the window. He was dying to know what had happened in Wayne’s conversation with detectives. Had they given him any details?

  Anything at all?

  Through the drive and picking up pizza, Wayne remained silent. He checked his phone obsessively. Dannel was content to let Osian and Bradley chat.

  There was nothing wrong with a bit of silence.

  Nothing.

  When they arrived home, Dannel remembered to check the score of the game. He’d completely forgotten. Their teams tied.

  Brilliant.

  Chelsea nil, Tottenham nil.

  Well, at least Ossie can’t lord it over me t
hat his team won or has jumped up the table.

  After setting the box in his hand on the coffee table, Dannel fled to the bedroom. He sat on the mattress and took a moment to centre his mind. Ossie can handle things for a few minutes. He’s better at small talk with strangers. “What an absolutely bizarre turn of events.”

  FIVE

  OSIAN

  “Everything all right there?” Wayne asked after Dannel had disappeared.

  “Perfectly fine. He’ll be back when he’s ready. So, what the bloody hell happened with you?” Osian went into the kitchen to pick up a stack of mismatched plates, then handed them to Wayne and grabbed a case of fizzy drinks from the refrigerator. He carried the box into the living room, where Bradley had arranged the pizza. “Well?”

  “I should probably be warning you off getting involved.” Wayne slid several slices of pizza onto a plate and immediately took a bite. “We got up early this morning to pick up breakfast before the game. Wait, no. I should start the story with last night.”

  After having a few bites, Wayne went through their night out with a group of fellow attorneys. He’d briefly revisited his argument with Barnaby Sharrow. But after intervention from Willa, they’d put their disagreement to bed.

  “What’s the difference between a solicitor and a barrister?” Dannel came over to sit beside Osian, picking up a slice of pizza. “I can never remember.”

  “We’re both attorneys. Barristers tend to specialise in certain areas of the law. They’re often brought in on complicated cases to handle matters in court.” Bradley spoke up from where he’d been quietly enjoying his pizza. “Solicitors are usually the ones to bring them into a case if it’s going to trial. Laws are changing, though. Clients can now hire barristers directly.”

  “Right.” Dannel nodded a few times. Osian had a feeling Bradley’s explanation hadn’t been concise enough for him to process. “Okay.”

  Note to self, try to explain to Dannel later. It’ll bother him for days, otherwise. Lawyers always use too many words when two or three would do.

  “So, let me get this straight. You got sozzled on a night out.” Osian wondered how their vehicle had gotten to the flat. He knew neither Roland nor Wayne would’ve driven under the influence. “How’d you get home?”

  “Willa Abraham went with us since we live in the same building. She hadn’t planned on drinking, so she became our designated driver.” Wayne rubbed his forehead, trying to think back. “My memory’s a little fuzzy. I had to pick up my keys from her flat this morning.”

  “Did you?” Osian remembered his brief conversation with her at the crime scene. “Willa Abraham had control of your car and keys. During the night when someone slipped a body into the boot?”

  “Yes.” Wayne reached for his last slice of pizza. He set it down after a second without taking a bite. “And I’m sure she’s about to become highly annoyed with me, since I’ve pointed the police in her direction.”

  “Wait. Hang on.” Osian remembered his conversation with Willa earlier. “She claimed you and Barnaby were still angry with one another. Why? You said she mediated between you. She never mentioned it, going so far as to claim Barnaby had ticked her off as well.”

  “Did she?” Wayne sat forward in the chair. “Odd.”

  Suspicious. Not odd.

  Or maybe equally odd and suspicious behaviour.

  “She said Barnaby had been drinking in the office.” Osian wondered how much of what Willa had claimed was true. “Did he punch a judge?”

  “I saw the punch,” Bradley commented. “We both did. They’d sniped at each other for most of the trial. It was unusual.”

  Wayne nodded his agreement. “Never saw Barnaby drink in the office—or out of it, for that matter. I believe he was teetotal.”

  “He was teetotal. His family are Quakers.” Bradley reached out to grab a second slice of pizza. “He wouldn’t touch the stuff, not even at his wedding. Willa lied.”

  “Why?” Dannel asked the question on Osian’s mind. “What’s her motivation to lie about him? Especially to Ossie.”

  “She joked about us being amateur detectives,” Osian remembered. He’d found the comment strange. “Maybe she wanted to throw me off the scent?”

  It didn’t make sense. There were too many gaps in their knowledge. Osian didn’t envy Haider trying to solve the case.

  The obvious option would be to arrest Wayne. If rumours of his fight with Barnaby had been spread far and wide, it offered an attractive motive to the detective. The body was found in Wayne’s vehicle, after all.

  All incredibly convenient.

  Too much so.

  “So, who wanted to get rid of both Wayne and Barnaby?” Dannel broke the silence that had followed Osian’s rhetorical question. “Kill one and frame the other for it. They didn’t randomly select a stranger’s car. They picked Wayne, got the key, hid the body, and managed to return the key.”

  “We’ve either got a skilled car thief and murderer, or Willa was involved. How else would they get the key?” Osian considered the options for a moment. “The killer might’ve stolen it from her.”

  “Seems a terribly large amount of work for one murder. Why go to the hassle?” Bradley spoke while scrolling through something on his phone. “I’ve asked one of our clerks to keep an eye on Willa for the day.”

  “It’s a massive amount of work for one murder,” Wayne agreed. “I’ve handled enough criminal defence to know the path of least resistance is the one most villains use.”

  “And we’re back to Dannel’s point of who wanted to target you as well as Barnaby.” Osian leaned back into the sofa, resting his feet on the coffee table. “Did you have many cases in common?”

  “A few. We’d only lost one of them.” Wayne scratched his jaw, lost in thought for a few seconds. “We had one angry client and one angry judge in common.”

  The suspect list didn’t offer Osian a massive amount of hope. A judge, a solicitor, a wife, and a client. None of them were likely to volunteer much information to the police, let alone to him or Dannel. He wondered if they could tag along with Wayne to his office.

  It might be too obvious of a tactic. They didn’t know anyone involved in the court aside from Wayne. As a paramedic, his work life didn’t often bring him in close contact with the crown court.

  “What next?” Dannel poked Osian in the side after everyone had been quiet for a reasonably long time. “Are we just going to sit around to wait for something to happen?”

  “Neither of us do sitting around and waiting well. We get bored too easily.” Osian glanced over at the two attorneys who were glued to their phones. “Something wrong?”

  “Willa’s been questioned by the detectives. She’s going on a rampage in our office group chat.” Wayne answered while Bradley typed away on his iPhone. “Claims I’ve set her up for murder. How have I set anyone up when the body was in the boot of my car? Does no one stop to think?”

  If they do, they might seriously think you’ve done it.

  Osian didn’t think his initial thought would be helpful to anyone. “They’ve obviously let her go without arresting her if she’s having a go at you.”

  “What an absolute mess,” Wayne groaned. He dropped his phone on the coffee table and slumped back into his chair. “She’s telling everyone I’m trying to frame her for murder.”

  “She had your car keys all night,” Dannel pointed out. “How could you frame her for murder when she controlled access to your vehicle?”

  “That is the point I will make to the police when they ask, since I’m sure she pointed them right back at me.” Wayne reached a hand up to massage his forehead. “We should head into the office. I want to nip this in the bud if I can.”

  “Threaten them with murder.” Osian grinned when Wayne glared at him. “Trying to lighten the mood.”

  “Not sure you’re helping.” Dannel nudged him with his elbow. “Aren’t you supposed to meet with Abra this afternoon?”

  Osian glanced at his
watch. The day had flown by so far. “Haider might be investigating my murder if I don’t leave soon.”

  “Why don’t we give you a lift?” Wayne offered.

  Rushing to the bedroom, Osian quickly changed into more comfortable clothes. He’d promised to go for a walk with Abra. They weren’t as dedicated to staying fit as Dannel and his best friend. A walk was definitely more their speed.

  “Doesn’t Abs have an aunt or uncle who’s a judge?” Dannel had followed him to the bedroom, likely not wanting to be forced to make small talk.

  “I think it’s her godmum, maybe. She calls her auntie, though. I’ll ask.” Osian kicked himself for forgetting. Abra might be able to get them background on Hamnet Allsop. “Can we call the judge ‘Hamster’?”

  “No.”

  “You are a ruiner of fun.”

  “First, not a word. Second, not true. Third, calling a judge Hamster would be fun in the short-term and detrimental to our lives in the long-term.” Dannel dodged the socks Osian threw at him.

  “Point. Made.”

  Dannel snickered with him. “Go on. You don’t want to make the solicitors wait too long.”

  Osian finished dragging a hoodie over his T-shirt. He slipped over to wrap his arms around Dannel and gave him a quick snog. “Love you.”

  SIX

  DANNEL

  With the flat to himself, Dannel turned on the Hamilton cast album. He cleaned up the living room and kitchen while singing his heart out. It helped him clear his head.

  Checking the calendar in the kitchen, Dannel realised they’d missed their day to sweep the stairs. He grabbed the broom in the corner. His uncle relied on them to help keep things tidy.

  With the door open, Dannel could continue listening to music while sweeping their floor. He was grateful for neighbours who didn’t mind a bit of Hamilton and being in a small building. Two floors with a single flat on either side made cleaning up an easier task than a place like Wayne’s.