A Clear Conscience Read Online Free PDF

watch again, then knocked on Shirley’s door one more time, knowing it was useless. Inside, the light winked at her while the place reeked of emptiness. When she got back to the car, she found herself trembling with rage. Six weeks’ work, hours of building trust; such was the nature of friendship.
    T he foyer outside court number five, North London Magistrates’ Court, was almost deserted. There was none of the stink, smoke and grumblings of the waiting area outside courts one to four, which Helen could see as she leant over the balcony watching the human traffic ebb and flow. Court number one was remands; she was glad she was not down there with a hundred cases to shoot from the hip: the overnight arrests, the bind overs to keep the peace, the guilty pleas, the postponements for preparation or nonappearance; the whole thing an exercise in concentration. Better to be up here, with a single case listed for the whole morning, if it lasted that long. The prisoner was in the cells, the two police witnesses had booked in, everything was set to go. She looked downstairs again, in time to see Constable Secura coming through the main entrance and barging, rudely, through the crowds. Alone. Even as Mary made for the steps towards the comparative calm of court five, Helen could feel her own bile rising, the vomit of frustration.
    Mary Secura reached her side, slightly out of breath, said nothing, simply shrugged her shoulders. The defection of a crucial witness was not a phenomenon requiring an announcement. Even one still recovering from her split lip, missing teeth, fractured skull and broken arm, all suffered in the name of obedience to the man in the cell downstairs. Helen felt a brief white rage against the victim who remained a victim.
    â€˜The stupid, stupid bitch,’ Helen said. ‘The silly cow. What does she think she’s doing? Are you sure she knew the date?’
    Something snapped in Mary Secura’s brain. She leaned forward with her hands on her hips and her face inches from Miss West.
    â€˜Ofcourse she knew the bloody date! We’ve been through it enough times. She knew the date, the place and the fact I was coming to pick her up. And don’t you dare call her a bitch. You’ve seen the photographs, you know what she’s like. I can call her what I fucking like, it’s me who’s got her this far, but you can’t, you stupid ignorant cow. You’ve got no bloody idea …’ And then to her own consternation, she was in tears, turning to one side to fumble in the good leather handbag for the sheaf of paper handkerchiefs she always carried, dropping the radio with a clatter on the stone-tiled floor.
    â€˜I think those things cost hundreds, don’t they?’ said Helen. She bent to retrieve it while Mary, blowing her nose, made the same movement. Their heads almost clashed. Helen held the radio to her ear, shook it, pulled a face.
    â€˜Receiving Radio One, I think. It’ll do.’
    Both started to talk at once, breaking off with a touch of awkward laughter. Helen breathed deeply, pulled another face and sat down. Mary Secura did the same.
    â€˜OK, so what do we do? This committal has been on the cards for four weeks, he’s been in custody for six and we’ve given every reassurance it will go ahead. We’ve got outside evidence of a row, shrieks and screams, injuries found after the police were called. His admissions vary from saying she fell over a pushchair to saying she went ape shit and hit him first and he had to calm her down. We can put him there, but not tie him down. Whichever way you look at it, there just isn’t enough evidence without her.’
    â€˜Nope.’
    â€˜So I don’t have much choice about going in there and discontinuing the whole thing, do I?’
    â€˜Please,’ said Mary Secura. ‘Please. Just try for one more adjournment. Give me one more chance to find her. She’ll have to come home