The Brothers of Baker Street Read Online Free Page B

have put it differently. But you should know that I haven’t done much criminal in recent years.”
    “In recent years, none at all, I know,” said Darla. “But what you did in years past was quite successful.”
    “I won the cases I tried, if that’s what you mean.”
    “It is exactly what I mean. It’s all right, Mr. Heath, really. I know what your concern is. You never lost a case you defended. Even though your last defendant was, in fact, guilty.”
    Reggie sat back in his chair at that. He gave Darla a hard look, but she continued.
    “Please do not take offense. It is still common knowledge among the legal community. A veteran police officer with a sterling reputation was accused of killing his wife over a divorce. He swore his innocence. But the prosecution allowed themselves to be driven by media, and they brought the case without the facts to support it; their witnesses were unreliable, and you destroyed them, quite rightly, in court. The case was dismissed. And then the police officer accused of murdering his wife promptly went home and murdered his mother-in-law to boot.”
    Now she stopped and just looked across at Reggie. He looked directly back.
    “There was little I could do at that point,” he said.
    “What you did was stop practicing criminal.”
    This was completely true; she had it right. He had indeed turned to corporate, where the consequences of successfully representing a client who turns out to be deceptive and in the wrong are—usually—less severe. But it was bad business to explicitly acknowledge such qualms to the legal community, and he did not want to do so now. He just nodded very slightly to her in response.
    “Wherever would the legal system be if all lawyers shared your compunction, Mr. Heath?”
    “Everyone is entitled to the best defense available,” said Reggie. “That doesn’t mean everyone is entitled to me.”
    Darla smiled slightly and said, “In my opinion, it does mean exactly that. But you’ve clearly paid a price for your scruples.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “All one has to do is look about you, Mr. Heath. You have one person as both clerk and secretary. You have no junior to do the scut work for you, and no pupil seeking to train with you. I did not see another brief on your clerk’s desk, or on yours, and your shelf is empty. But there is no shortage of accused clients in London. What could account for the sad state of your chambers if not your resistance to taking on any case where you’re afraid your client might have done it?”
    Reggie was about to answer that, then stopped. It was actually refreshing—apparently she was the one person in London who did not read the tabloids or know what that coverage had done to his chambers reputation.
    He shrugged in response to her question.
    “Well,” she said. “You needn’t worry. My client meets your strict criteria. He is innocent. And because he is, I will be able to get him the best defense available, in my opinion—I will get you—and, I hope, at a bit of a cut rate?”
    Reggie had no other case work pending, and this solicitor clearly knew it.
    “I’ll check with my clerk,” said Reggie, bluffing anyway. He paused, then said, “I’ll need to see the discovery file first and meet your client. No promises beyond that.”
    “Of course,” said Darla. “His name is Neil Walters. He’s at Shoreditch police station. Can you see him this afternoon?”
    “Yes, I think that will work.”
    “Brilliant. I have another engagement myself. But my client, of course, will be available.”
    She stood. She offered her hand. Reggie took it, and she left it in his possession for just a moment longer than courtesy required.
    “You are just as I expected,” she said. Then she let go of his hand, smiled again, and exited the little café before Reggie had a chance to ask what that expectation had been.
    As she walked away down Marylebone High Street, Reggie was aware that his blood was pumping fast. This was