Those Left Behind - 21. Legalities & Sensation

Ludo (and Arthur) had been trying to explain to Damian and Adam how the British legal system worked, and they hadn’t been doing very well. They didn’t really understand, themselves, but they had to try and explain that committing for trial didn’t mean that Jackie as guilty, just that there was enough evidence to make a trial worthwhile.

Ludo happened to be in Frances McSweeney’s office to sign some paperwork and had mentioned his problem to her. Damian had got all anxious, seeing his Mum and the word trial mentioned in the same sentence, yet as far as the boy was concerned nothing had seemed to happen. Frances McSweeney had smiled and said leave it to her, she might have something. A colleague had had a similar problem and found that the books available were too simple, too complex, or full of errors.

And that evening, her secretary had emailed a simple but very effective booklet. The four of them had sat down with it and gone through everything. To the boys, that the trial proper would not happen until Autumn seemed a lifetime away. And that the final verdict might not happen till next year seemed impossible. It seemed pretty impossible to Ludo as well.

“How do people cope?”

“With what?”

It was Saturday morning; Lesley, Ludo and Arthur had met up at the coffee shop. There was plenty they ought to be doing, but Damian and Adam were making up numbers on a trip organised by the Cubs. Both boys thought the idea of Cubs was lame, but with spare spaces on the bus they’d been delighted to join the trip. It was visit to a heritage railway, and for all their assumed modern sophistication both boys loved the idea of travelling on a steam train.

“The uncertainty, the lack of closure, for want of a better word.”

Lesley rolled her eyes “The law isn’t a quick beast, I’m afraid.”

“Anyway, who says the verdict is closure?” Trust Arthur to see things differently.

“Well, you know what’s going to happen.”

“But there’s a lifetime of living with the verdict.”

“Now you’re depressing me.”

“Only being realistic.”

“At least you and Damian will have the opportunity to visit Jackie.”

“If you wanted to.”

“But think of the German bloke.”

“Andreas?”

“His wife”, Lesley looked at them. “He does have a wife?”

“Believe so.”

“She has to come here to see him. All that travel and expense.”

“Shit, never thought of that. Wonder what she’s like?”

“You ever fancy getting into contact?”

Ludo looked at Lesley, surprised, “What for?”

“Well, she’s presumably in the same boat. After all, I presume she’s not being charged with anything. She’s probably as shocked as you are at what her husband’s been up to. Are there any kids?”

“I’ve not heard mention.” They shook their heads and concentrated on coffee.

“Anyway. Less of the gloom, now for a more cheerful matter”, Lesley grinned. “How’s the divorce?” All three smiled.

“I’m seeing a divorce lawyer next week.”

“Who recommended him?”

“Her, actually. Frances McSweeney; the two evidently trained together.”

“The old girls’ network, I like it!” Arthur smiled.

“She comes recommended and evidently has some experience in the area.”

Lesley smiled, “In divorces? I should hope so!”

“No. In divorces with those in prison.”

“Quite a niche, I’d imagine.”

“Commoner than you think.”

“Any word from Jackie on the subject?”

“Not at all. No word from her at all, just notes from her lawyer.”

Arthur continued on with the story, “But it looks as though she wants to see Damian.”

Lesley nodded, “Figures, I suppose. How does the young man feel?”

“Blows hot and cold.”

Arthur added, “Mainly cold.”

“He likes the idea of seeing his Mum, but prison scares him. And he’s still angry with her, he remembers how she dropped out of his life completely.”

“What will you do?”

“Blackmail, I think.”

Arthur smiled, “It won’t quite be ‘do this or else’, but there are ways.”

***

Donna Elland had her office in a rather handsome early 19th century house near Holborn tube station. It would have made someone a fine residence once but had been entirely taken over by legal eagles. As they walked from the tube, they speculated as to whether anyone lived in the area now, as all the houses seemed to be offices. Inside the building, remnants of fine plasterwork on walls and ceilings jostled for space with the ugly detritus of modern office life.

Donna’s office was on the second floor at the back. As she said herself when they entered, ‘Crap view but no street noise’. Donna was something of a surprise, robust and well-padded with a nest of grey-blond hair. She was middle-aged and surprisingly comfortable looking; perhaps that was her secret, as evidently in court she had sharp teeth. Her fees were high, but then what lawyer’s weren’t, and this was just a preliminary meeting. Ludo and Arthur had both come, and Donna seemed happy at the arrangement.

Coffees brought, they settled down and Ludo told his story. Once again. Donna simply nodded, asking questions only for clarification.

“First question. Why do you want to divorce Mrs Wilson?”

Ludo looked at Arthur who gave a sort of ‘over to you’ look. The answer popped into Ludo’s head immediately, almost without thinking.

“To marry Arthur.”

Donna nodded, “And Jackie’s trial, was that factor?”

“It probably speeded things up. But when I told Jackie I was fond of Arthur, the day she disappeared, I was already clear in my mind.”

There a few more such clarifying questions.

“Now, this is just a preliminary, but there are possible routes. Please bear with me, I want to lay out all the possibles. First, you want to marry Arthur, having fallen in love.

“Second, when you told Jackie she left the family home with no proper word and no message for Damian and made no attempt to return.

“Third, she has been committed for trial for embezzlement.

“Four, there is a case for irretrievable marital breakdown.”

She formed her fingers into a steeple and smiled at them.

“Now, timing will be an issue. Whether, at the time of divorce proceedings she is a convicted felon. Also, if we emphasise the desertion, then to counter it her legal team would have to address the problem that her reasons for leaving the family home and not returning were related to criminal activity.”

The two men stared at her, and Ludo said he understood.

“One final point. This has potential to get very messy. There is the possibility that your relationships with your wife, Mrs Wilson, and Mr Hanson, here, your adultery with him, will be put under the microscope. You might think that you have nothing to hide, but I assure you that it feels very different when a QC is reciting your dirty laundry list in public. Very different.”

There was a lot more legalese, but that was the nub.

They walked North; Ludo was in a bit of a whirl, but Arthur a clear idea of where they were going. Past more elegant terraces then out onto a handsome square that Ludo suddenly recognised because of a school project last year. It had been the site of the Foundling Hospital. There was little left of the original Foundling Hospital, it was a school playground now. But the nearby museum, a handsome 1950s building included a café that had been recommended and, according to Arthur’s business colleagues, was often quiet. Both things were true, and they settled down to a fine selection of salads, cold meat, and a glass of wine each.

“You think you can cope with all the dirty laundry?”

“I’ll have to”, Ludo shrugged. “We’ll have to. It’ll be about me as much as you, and what’s the alternative?”

Arthur pulled a face, “Stay married and hope she divorces you?”

“And if she gets time off for good behaviour, risk Damian having to go and live with her?”

Arthur nodded, “So, dirty washing. How often did you have sexual intercourse, were you aware of the risk that Damian and Adam might see you? Did you exert undue influence on your son, surely, he is too young to make an informed decision?” Arthur came to an abrupt halt and stared at Ludo who was close to tears.

“Shit, I’m sorry”, he put his arm round Ludo and kissed his cheek. They were not usually so demonstrative in public, but this was different.

“I just want it all to go away. Sometimes I think it would be great if she’d never got involved, but then I think that you and I might never have got it together. We’d still just be mates.”

Arthur smiled, “But good mates. My Gran used to say that things have a way of working out in the end.”

Ludo sniffed, “Yes. I suppose.”

“So… One day at a time. Now enjoy your wine and eat your salad before it gets cold!”

They abandoned plans to visit the museum and instead went wandering, looking at more lovely 19th century terraces, fantasizing about living in such a house. They found the house where Charles Dickens had lived and ended up walking through one of the Inns of Court, wondering at the calm, park-like atmosphere amidst the buzz of London. Of course, the irony was not lost on them. Here they were, struggling away with the issues surrounding the case and its repercussions, whilst all the while the lawyers worked in handsome houses surrounded by calm, Regency splendour.

They were sitting on a bench, with fine view of a stretch of lawn and handsome 18th or 19th-century terraces, when Arthur dropped another bombshell, “Have you thought about what’s going to happen to the house?”

Ludo looked at him, puzzled, “The house?”

Arthur shrugged, “Well, I assume that you own it jointly with Jackie. I know that ordinarily, there would be some sort of civilised negotiation, with due regard to the need to provide a home for Damian but…”

Ludo pulled a face, “Shit. She’s going to have legal bills.”

“Big time.”

“So, you think she might want to liquidise her half?”

Arthur shrugged, “Something else you need to consider.”

“Fuck. Well, there’s no way I can buy her out, it’s a complete nightmare.”

Ludo started to get agitated, and Arthur put his hand on Ludo’s leg and stroked is, “First off, you need to speak to your solicitor, though they may already have thought of the issue, if they’re any good.”

“OK. First off? And second?”

“We could be pro-active.”

“And?”

“Sell my place and buy jointly.”

“You buy Jackie’s share of the house?”

Arthur shrugged, “Or buy a another place nearby. Might be better for Damian to start anew.”

Ludo gave a sigh, “Something else to think about.” He squeezed Arthur’s hand, “Thank you.”

“I think the least disruptive course would be for me to regularise things and put my place on the market now, rather than having a fantasy plan to do it up. OK?”

“Wow. Yes. And I think I need to sort out, get Jackie’s stuff properly boxed up and put into storage.”

Arthur shrugged, “There are firms that do that sort of thing without you having to bother.”

Ludo pulled a face, “Bet it costs.”

“But it would be worth it, otherwise think of the hassle, not to mention working out what to do with Damian whilst we were trying to pack Jackie’s gear up. You hardly want him about, do you?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Tell you what, shall I make a few enquiries?”

“Thanks.”

***

Graham Marcus looked rough, as if he’d not slept, his face pale and his eyes sunken. But there was something sexy about the look too.

“Look, I won’t come in. This isn’t an official visit, I just wanted to say that the SFO in its infinite wisdom has released more details about the case.”

It was late and Ludo had trouble focusing. When Graham Marcus had rung the bell, he and Arthur had been snuggled up watching a film; the boys were in bed. All very suburban.

“What does that mean?”

Graham Marcus looked annoyed, “That tomorrow morning the newspapers will be full of how your wife and her accomplice, presumed lover, planned to frame you and run off with the ill-gotten gains. Complete with pictures.”

“But…”

“Oh, I know. Some of it will be complete hogwash, but you can bet your bottom dollar that’s the story they’ll cook up. So, be warned and don’t open the front door.”

“Do you really think they’ll make such a deal of it”, Ludo and Arthur were back on the sofa but rather less snug than before.

“It’s a gift of a story. After all, we could hardly believe it ourselves at first. And even if Frances McSweeney and that other bloke do issue a statement, the journos will still want to quiz you, I’ll be bound.”

At Arthur’s urging, Ludo had sent off emails to Frances McSweeney and her criminal law colleague, and to Jason. They didn’t have many defences, but they may as well utilise whatever they did have. Jason phoned back, almost immediately. He was in Belgium but would set up a phone interview tomorrow morning.

Next morning, they were all over the internet, with a variety of lurid tales. The fake images, when blown up, looked fuzzy and dubious, but it made a great story even though no article managed to make completely coherent sense of it, the pieces didn’t really fit. But that didn’t seem to matter, it was the headlines that drew your eye.

“Switch it off, there’s no point looking.”

Ludo closed the lap-top, “Do you reckon we should keep the boys off school?”

“Bit late now, they’re almost ready. I say brazen it out.”

“OK. Try not to run over too many reporters.”

There was a couple lurking, but the phone had been ringing off the hook and there had even been a couple of suspicious calls on Ludo’s mobile. How the hell had they got that number?

Arthur got back from dropping the boys off, “I don’t know what’s worse, parents not saying anything though you know they’ve read every word written about us, or those commiserating but hoping for some juicy gossip.”

“Were they all like that?”

“Well, a few. Most were decent. But it feels like the public washing of your dirty laundry has well and truly started.”

The day was punctuated by alarums and excursions. A phone interview with Jason, which went moderately well, a statement put out by Frances McSweeney and a couple of reporters who managed to slip through the net and actually get Ludo on the phone. Briefly!

They did read the coverage, eventually, and most of it was trivial and sensationalist, the worst were a couple of articles which managed to bring a strong homophobic element into the narrative. It made both of them depressed, even though there was little that could be done.

Once Arthur had fetched the boys from school there was much chattering. It had even been all round the school, though the tales the boys were telling were particularly lurid versions. Damian and Adam had spent most of their free time in the school office, reading under the watchful eye of the school secretary whose presence was enough to deter even the hardiest child. Ludo gave up even attempting to work, and Lesley called round.

“I figured it was pointless trying to phone. I take it you’ve been mobbed?”

Arthur gave a wry smile, “Ludo is flavour of the month.”

“The day, most like. Unless they find out more information, it’ll soon get buried.”

“You reckon they’ll find stuff out?”

She shrugged, “Why else would they release the information. Stands to reason. Either the police are being economical with the truth, or they don’t know a lot.”

“The latter. Unless Jackie or Andreas have said something, their evidence for the frame-up was just a couple of hotel receipts and the dodgy photos.”

“Who faked the photos?”

“Fuck knows. I doubt Jackie knew anyone who did stuff like that. Presumably this Andreas bloke had contacts?”

“It’s pretty hard-core stuff, faking evidence. You don’t just happen on it.”

“You reckon he’s even more dodgy than he appears?”

“Very likely.”

Arthur smiled, “And the SFO is clearly hoping to find more.”

“Yep, and you just happen to be caught in the middle.”

The papers the next day were far quieter. As they had predicted, the story was dying a death with no extra titbits and certainly no sign of any further significant information. It was a few days later that a police statement about significant developments created a flurry of interest. There was no word from Graham Marcus, however, and no doubt if they’d asked, he’d say the information was still classified.

“I don’t know what’s worse, having everything splashed across the papers or sitting in the dark not knowing what’s going on.”

Arthur grinned, “I think you’ll have to get used to it.”

***

“Well”, DI Donaldson looked over his glasses at DS Marcus, “Anything?”

“His story holds up.”

“So, we know the how, who and when of the fakery with the images, the big question is…”

“How did Andreas Huber know where to go?”

“Was it Andreas Huber?”

“That’s what our man says, Huber’s the only person he dealt with, didn’t know a woman was involved until he read about it in the newspaper.”

“Hmm.”

“But still doesn’t get us anywhere does it, sir?”

“No. It bloody doesn’t. If Andreas Huber knew his way to someone who could do some fakery for him, had he been there before and what for? The guy hasn’t said anything?”

“Not a dickie bird. According to the guys I know in the Paddington nick, Huber simply sits and smiles, answers simple questions but not the hard ones.”

“Like where’s the money. By the way, there might be another curved ball on the way. I’ve heard rumours that the Bank has found holes going further back.”

“Earlier than this caper?”

“Yes. Nothing concrete, yet, but…”

“Andreas Huber may have been at it before.”

DI Donaldson put his head to one side, “Or there’s an accomplice.”

“Oh, don’t”, and DS Marcus gave a mock groan.

***

“Now, let’s be clear, they’ve no evidence and they’re fishing”.

James Conway was a precise, middle-aged man whose default manner was to look over his glasses in a way that was almost caricature. But he had certainly delivered, for Ludo. Now he and the solicitor were back in the police station.

Ludo frowned, “But they’ve brought me in for questioning.”

“Asked, dear boy. Asked.”

“And if I said no?”

“Then they would take that as an admission of guilt.”

“So, I live with it.”

“I’m afraid so. But, as I’ve made clear, don’t invent, don’t pretend, and don’t hide. Simple, truthful answers.”

That was easier said than done.

They were there all day. DS Marcus, DI Donaldson and another bloke, in relays.

Ludo was scared and panicky. He got ratty. James Conway was a wonderful calming presence, but Ludo wanted Arthur. How had the man got to be so important to him. So quickly. And the police had wanted to know. About him and Arthur.

How had it happened? They’d been mates, sharing interests and finding a common cause in looking after their sons. Had he known Arthur was gay? That was a tricky one; he thought so, but it hadn’t been part of their relationship until… He’d gone bright red but had managed to stumble his way through a description of Arthur’s naked bum changing after playing with the kids, and the ideas that raised in him. Part of him was embarrassed at having to put all this out in the open, part of him was furious and part of him thought what the hell, talking about sexual attraction shouldn’t be too much.

Had he been unfaithful to Jackie? Yes, odd flings when he was away. Nothing long-term, no-one at home, no-one Jackie knew. With men? Christ. Ludo took a deep break. Yes, with men, but furtive, usually married guys and he’d felt guilty and embarrassed. So much so, that he’d vowed never to do it again but couldn’t stick to it.

And Jackie? Ludo had wondered but her focus on her job was genuine, she’d always been like that. Besides, he’d not come up with any likely candidates. Andreas? Ludo had stared; he was old, fat, and boring, and Jackie had been mildly dismissive of him. Ludo had never imagined…

And their sex life? He’d already thought about this one, it was obvious it would come up, but how to convey the sheer exhaustion of dealing with the day to day demands of bringing up Damain when Jackie was hardly there, alongside doing his day job. When she’d say she was tired, or not say anything at all. Whole weeks, and then things would ignite again.

Did she know about Arthur? Was he planning to leave Jackie? And so it went on, and on and on. It was all opinion, he had no proof for anything, no way of knowing the ‘right’ answer. James Conway had emphasised he should concentrate on the facts, not opinions and not embellish. But it was fucking hard. The relationship with Arthur had been too much of a surprise to plan for anything.

Money? They kept circling back to that, obsessively. Trying to catch him out, yet there was nothing. It helped that he could remember figures, or perhaps this was too suspicious, too pat. He knew how much Jackie’s bonus had been for the last few years, their outgoings on the mortgage and so on. They were comfortable, more than some, but nothing more than that. There had never been any sign of lavish extra money, Jackie spending on herself.

Explain the extra bank accounts? He couldn’t. And Damian? The kid drew obsessively, any paper was game. Jackie had been careless. If he had found them? That gave Ludo pause, what would he have done, have thought? He’d trusted Jackie, believed that they would come through whatever was going on. He’d put his career on hold, trod water whilst he looked after Damian. Did he resent that? At times, but he would not have put Damian second for the world.

Jackie’s colleagues? A few faces at parties. Would he have considered an affair with Molly That made him laugh, a nervous belly laugh. She was pleasant and homely, certainly not his type. What was his type? Glamorous, well turned out, stylish. Jackie had still been like it; there had been moments when it was still all worth it.

By the end he felt wrung out, a nervous wreck. Sure, that there was nothing for them to find yet panic-stricken that he’d be found out. Found out for what?

Arthur had been questioned too about their relationship.

“What did you tell them?”

Arthur shrugged, “The truth. That I’d been attracted to you but was too fond of my face to go making overtures to straight married men.”

“How did that go down?”

Arthur pulled a face, “Not well. And I had to say what I thought about Jackie.”

“What did you say?”

Arthur gave an awkward shrug, “That she barely gave me the time of day, usually cold-shouldered me at the school gates and if we did speak, then it was as if she was looking down from a great height”, he sighed, “Sorry. They also asked if we’d talked about money, that sort of thing. Had to say no there, too”.

“Anything about the bank stuff and that?”

“The embezzlement? Not really, a lot about my IT background.”

“But you don’t have an IT background.”

Arthur gave a bitter laugh, “Being a bit tech savvy and working on a helpdesk is as good as being tech whizz according to the plods. I gave them as much chapter and verse as I could, and I think the older woman worked out that there was a big gap between what I did and the tech skills the bank would need.” He shrugged, “But how about you?”

“It was fucking exhausting. They wanted to know everything, us, Jackie, Damian, money, work colleagues, had I considered an affair with Molly?”

Arthur exploded, “You’re joking!”

“The lot. And if they didn’t like the answer, we went back over it, again and again.”

“It’s over now.”

“For the moment.”

“Don’t think about that, concentrate on now.”

“I’m worried about Damian.”

Arthur wrinkled his brow, “What way?”

“That they might take him away, if, you know…”

“Look here”, Arthur was firm, taking both of Ludo’s hands in his, “You’ve done nothing wrong; we’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not your fault Jackie turned criminal, and if having an affair was grounds for taking kids away then everyone would be worried.”

“If the papers reported about us and Gordy getting naked with the boys…”

“Who’s going to tell, and besides. Outside, in the open air? And Gordy’s always done it. Look. Everyone has things we’d not want printed on the front page of the Daily Mail, but don’t borrow trouble. Right?”

“Right.”

Arthur glared at him, “Now say it like you mean it.”

Ludo grinned, “Right!”

***

“Well?”

DS Marcus shrugged, “Nothing we could pin on him. Not a bloody thing.”

DI Donaldson sighed, “Just what I thought. And the boyfriend?”

DS Marcus pulled a face, “Cynthia says it all stacks up.”

“Waste of bloody time.”

“You know what, sir.”

“Mm?”

“I reckon that Missus played him, good and proper. If he’d known anything about her plans, he’d have been shitting himself and would have spilled them.”

“Chatterbox wasn’t he? Christ some of that detail.”

DS Marcus laughed, “I’m sure you’ve heard worse. I’d say he was anxious and scared.”

“Of her?”

“No, of what he’s been got into. Out of his depth. He’d never have made any sort of conspirator.”

“And she knew it. So, what’s the plan, Graham?”

“Follow the money. And get the bloody bank to cough up information.”

“So, back to the SFO.”

“Looks like it.”

“And Graham.”

“Sir?”

“Pop in and see them in a few days. Play nice.”

***

Graham Marcus turned up a few days later. It was a warm evening, and they had had their meal outside. Graham Marcus was presented with a typical family scene complete with detritus from their meal of lasagne, salad, and garlic bread. The boys were talking about a new game that one of their mates had, whilst Ludo and Arthur were enjoying the peace.

Then Graham Marcus appeared, like a bad penny. He was there to check they were OK.

“I’m sorry about the other day, but you understand that we have to examine every avenue.”

Ludo raised an eyebrow, “The papers say that there’s more money missing, so I’m supposed to be waiting till the smoke clears?”

Graham Marcus inclined his head, “I have read about that theory.”

Arthur laughed, “Ludo would make a terrible conspirator, he’d worry about all the details and wouldn’t be able to keep them to himself.”

Graham Marcus smiled, “Whereas you?”

Arthur pulled a face, “Better perhaps, but Jackie didn’t even give me the time of day. No love lost there.”

“Because of your relationship with Ludo?”

“Not at all. Before then. She was just a bitch. Sorry Ludo, but”, Arthur shrugged. “She wasn’t popular with the Mums at the school gates.”

Graham Marcus nodded, “We’ll be in touch. The SFO is running things and further information is awaited from the bank.”

“So, that might change matters.”

Graham Marcus gave a tight smile, “We can but hope.”