The Charlton Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

trusted. What I meant is if he thinks his friend Phoebe is in trouble, he’ll warn her. He’s the loyal type. It’s best if neither of us approaches him about Michael or Phoebe, even though I’m sure he’d be a goldmine of information. I will have coffee with him, though. I won’t raise the subject, but I won’t discourage him if he does.”
    Amanda nodded, understanding the need to maintain client confidentially, whether you liked your client or not.
    Charlie directed, “See what else you can dig up about Michael.” Pausing, she added, “Actually, make it about both of them.”
    Amanda grinned, “I’ll get straight onto it.” This was exactly the sort of work she enjoyed most.
    Looking at Amanda with her brow furrowed, Charlie said, “I’ve got a funny feeling about this. Use petty cash if you need to purchase records or anything.”
    Charlie went to her office.
    Amanda rubbed her hands together, delighted to have her investigative project officially sanctioned. The first thing she did was telephone Darren Franks.
    “Hi Darren, it’s Amanda.”
    “Hello lovie,” Darren’s warm baritone responded.
    “Can you do me a favor?”
    “Anything for you and Charlie, of course,” he replied without even asking what it might be.
    “Can you get on, log into your LinkedIn account and go look at Michael Rawlin’s profile for me?”
    “Ahh, doing some investigations into the shady Mr. Rawlins…” Darren laughed merrily.
    Amanda could hear Darren tapping his keyboard in the background.
    He muttered to himself as he navigated to the page, and then said, “Got it, it’s up. Not much in it, lovie.”
    “I’m not surprised, there’s not a lot about him on the internet. Thanks Darren. Can you print it off and scan it over to me or take a screen shot and email it?”
    “Sure. If he asks me why I visited I’ll just say I wanted to check the correct spelling of his name or something. I doubt he’ll ask, though.”
    “I should get my own account, but I don’t want the clients to think Charlie’s snooping…”
    Darren laughed, teasing her, “Yes, barristers are supposed to be above all that, whereas we mere solicitors can get up to anything!”
     
    *****
     
    While deeply concerned for his friend, at the same time Roman relished the high drama of the situation. The paramedics had arrived with flashing lights and blaring sirens in the heart of George St and whisked them away from the busy food court to the nearest private hospital.
    Phoebe had soon regained consciousness but was extremely quiet. Roman wasn’t sure if it was her condition or sheer embarrassment that silenced her. Knowing Phoebe’s reserved nature, he suspected the latter. Once he was satisfied Phoebe would be fine, he began to thoroughly enjoy the whole fiasco, gleefully participating in the emergency department hubbub, giving information to the hospital staff and calling the firm to let them know they would not be back that afternoon, describing Phoebe’s collapse in delicious detail.
    Roman offered to call Michael, but Phoebe begged him not to, saying he was away again and that she was sure it was nothing. Roman thought to himself that things must be really bad at home if she didn’t want her husband to know she was in hospital.
    A nurse entered Phoebe’s cube and asked Roman to leave, as she wanted to open Phoebe’s blouse in order to monitor Phoebe’s heart.
    Phoebe said with a weary voice, “Please let him stay. I don’t mind.”
    Roman dutifully held Phoebe’s hand and looked away while the nurse placed a series of cardiac monitor dots across Phoebe’s chest and extremities. She took some blood, and asked several intrusive questions, including inquiring if Phoebe could be pregnant. Horrified, Phoebe responded in the negative. Telling Phoebe to lie extremely still, the nurse pressed a button on the machine and waited for a reading to be taken. Pressing another button, she told Phoebe to keep her arm still. Roman watched in