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  ‘Richard has just been accused of murdering James Jones?’

  ‘Effectively, yes. That is what the new Corporate Killing law means. He was the controlling mind behind the failures that led to the Captain’s death. But this is the first time a case has ever come to court, of course. That’s why they’ve taken him to Snow Hill. And it explains Carver Carpenter too, I should suppose.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This looks like the first major trial of a high-profile piece of flagship legislation. It’s a trial in all senses of the word, Robin. The legislation is as much on trial as the accused - the thinking behind it, the interpretation of it - the words that were used to phrase it. It’s all going to be tried by the judge, almost as much as Richard is. That’s why everything is being done so carefully by the book.’

  Andrew took a deep breath and then continued, his open, boyish face unnaturally earnest. ‘This is front-page stuff, Robin. Six O’clock News all over the world. Snow Hill is the nearest police station to the Old Bailey in London. If that’s where they’re charging him then that’s where they’ll be trying him. The Old Bailey; Court Number One, if I’m any judge of the matter.’

  ‘This isn’t bad, Andrew, it’s terrifying! What on earth are we going to do?’

  ‘Well, fight, of course. But step by step. The first thing we need to do is go back to the hotel, pay the tab and pick up our stuff. Then we need to get back to town and start putting a team together.’

  Suiting the words to the action, he took her gently by the arm again and pulled her to her feet. Then, as they walked increasingly purposefully out of the Guildhall and up towards the hotel - blessedly unmolested by reporters for the moment - Andrew continued to talk.

  ‘They’ll hold Richard at Snow Hill until they charge him, which they have to do within the day unless they get special extension. Which isn’t too hard these days to be honest: Habeas Corpus isn’t as strong as it once was. But they won’t have got this far without something fairly solid to hand. So they’ll charge him. We’ll see him, of course, probably after the fact now, but we’ll be able to arrange bail I’m sure.’

  ‘Bail for murder?’

  ‘You’d be surprised. It’s his position as a leading international businessman that’ll exercise them most, I expect. They’ll ask for a surety and a substantial security as well. They’ll take his passport and set up a fairly rigorous routine for reporting in. May even tag him, I suppose. They won’t want him disappearing to somewhere far afield they can’t extradite him from like old Ronnie Biggs in the sixties.’

  ‘But I’ll be able to take him home?’

  ‘Within thirty-six hours. I’m certain.’

  That assurance was enough to get them to the Lookout and they grabbed their stuff, settled their bills and prepared to leave.

  ‘I say,’ said Andrew ingratiatingly as Robin hesitated on the hotel’s steps looking down into the car park. ‘Was that your new Bentley keys Richard slipped you over luncheon?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, look. You have your Freelander down there. And I don’t have transport. So, I was just wondering...’

  ‘What? Oh! Yes of course. Take it!’

  ‘Wow! Gladly! So the day’s not a total loss after all eh?’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Andrew! Where’s your sensitivity?’

  ‘Ah! Sorry. Never my strong point, sensitivity. But still and all, you must admit...’

  ‘Is that it? That steel-coloured car over there? Qh yes I see the winged B. My God! Yes, Andrew. It is a very beautiful car and I understand. Boy’s toys. I am not immune myself. In fact if you don’t hurry, you’ll be driving the Freelander back to town.’

  Andrew took Robin at her word, grabbed the proffered keys and started down the steps. But she called him to a halt. ‘Andrew! It also looks like a very fast car. So drive it carefully, please. The last thing Richard needs is for his lawyer to get him a series of speeding fines from every speed camera between here and Heritage House.’

  Chapter 16: In Charge

  The arresting officer’s name was Harry Nolan and he was a detective chief inspector. Richard only really registered his rank and surname when the policeman identified himself for the interview tape. He had discovered that he had been christened Harry during a brief exchange with the custody officer in charge of Snow Hill police station on their arrival, when Richard had gone through the induction process and Nolan had gone off to prepare for the interview.

  ‘Now, Captain,’ said the Custody Officer after the initial proceedings were complete, ‘I have noted the name of your solicitor and we have tried to contact him. His wife, a leading barrister, I understand, has taken a personal message and assures me that Mr Balfour himself will be here as soon as possible. Would you like to consult the duty solicitor in the meantime?’

  Richard, frowning, shook his head.

  ‘Very well, then, sir. Are you willing, sir, to talk to the Detective Chief Inspector? He just has one or two questions. Little points he wants to clarify. They may well sort out the whole of this mess and make your further detention unnecessary. If you wouldn’t mind, sir. Or you can wait for your own solicitor if you would prefer...’

  Again, Richard shook his head. He was thinking, the quicker I talk to this man, the sooner it’ll all be cleared up.

  The interview room at Snow Hill was neat and tidy, well presented and almost restful. Richard felt none of these things. A brief stop-over at a nameless service station had allowed him to relieve himself but he felt dirty, rumpled and increasingly outraged. Precisely where his rage should be aimed was something of which he remained uncertain at the moment, so he aimed the bulk of it at Inspector Nolan and, after a few more moments, Nolan’s associate, Sergeant Ragalski. And finally - sometime later - his anger was aimed at himself for being stupid enough to accede to the Custody Officer’s apparently innocent request and answer Inspector Nolan’s questions.

  ‘Captain Mariner, can you first tell me when you became associated with the board of governors of the Goodman Richard charity?’

  ‘I can’t remember precisely. Eighteen months ago, I suppose.’

  ‘I have here the minutes of a meeting held two years ago almost to the day. Can you please read out the Chairman’s opening remarks as highlighted?’

  ‘Where did you get those?’

  ‘From the charity’s main offices in Brewer Street. We have all of the charity’s minutes, correspondence and so forth from its foundation right up to date. It is the time of your arrival on the board we are trying to establish. Would you read the marked section, please?’

  ‘“First of all I would like to welcome Richard Mariner to the board. Unfortunately he can’t be here in person today, but I’m sure we’ll soon be a regular part of his busy schedule...” Yes. I see.’

  ‘And that welcome is countersigned in the margin?’

  ‘By Charles Lee as chairman, yes.’

  ‘How often did the board meet, Captain?’

  ‘Every couple of months, I suppose...’

  ‘And how often did you attend yourself?’

  ‘Every other meeting perhaps.’

  ‘Four times since you joined, in fact; though there were actually regular monthly meetings with a couple of special meetings called. Would it surprise you to learn that you attended four meetings out of twenty-six in all?’

  ‘Yes. Well, I was far more busy than I had supposed I would be during the last couple of years...’ The admission sounded weak and self-serving to Richard. He frowned with mounting anger at himself.

  ‘I see. Of course,’ said Nolan, calming the situation. ‘Now, how many regular board members were there, Captain? Can you remember?’

  ‘Half a dozen or so. Mr Lee. Mr Smithers, a friend of his - a retired corporate accountant. They oversaw the funding by and large. Together with Dr Walton they made up the backbone of the project. Dr Walton had the contacts that allowed us to select the disadvantaged youngsters who went aboard the ship herself. But he res
igned. Then there was a retired QC who kept us all legal and decent...’

  ‘Who unfortunately died some months ago...’

  ‘Really? I had no idea.’

  ‘You sent flowers, Captain.’

  ‘Did I really? The same way as I never forget my wife’s birthday, I’m afraid: I have a very good secretary.’

  ‘I see. Well, who else was on the board?’

  ‘Helen Levin to begin with. She’s the actress; quite a fine one by all accounts. She was there largely because she could get on that Sunday morning slot on the radio, I’d guess. I remember hearing her broadcasting for charitable donations. Very effective...’

  ‘That’s as may be. But she left the board last year.’

  ‘She got a big part in an American soap-opera if I remember. I’ve never seen it... Then there was Captain Jones, of course. He got an automatic seat as Captain of the Goodman Richard herself. I can’t think of anyone else.’

  ‘No, Captain. That really only leaves yourself.’

  ‘That’s it then.’

  ‘And you divided the corporate responsibilities between the board members ... How, precisely?’

  ‘As I’ve said, very generally. Charles and Smithers looked after fundraising and accounts. Smithers also acted as secretary. The QC looked after the legal matters. Miss Levin kept an eye on publicity. Dr Walton kept us in contact with deserving cases and Captain Jones kept us in contact with the ship herself.’

  ‘I see. And who had responsibility for health and safety matters?’

  ‘Captain Jones.’

  ‘Aboard the ship, of course. But who was it on the board?’

  ‘Well, I-’

  ‘Captain, would you look at these minutes - again drawn in your absence, but countersigned in the margin by Mr Lee?’

  ‘I... What? I have never seen these before in all my life.’

  ‘Your perfect secretary again, perhaps. I dare say she has them filed somewhere. Alongside a list of your wife’s most recent birthday gifts, perhaps. They are duly dated and we have no reason to doubt them. They are the minutes of the meeting nearly three months ago. You sent your apologies to them and to all subsequent meetings. But could you read the highlighted section, please?’

  ‘No. I will not read them. Where is Charles? Where is Charles Lee?’

  ‘Mr Lee and Mr Smithers appear to have disappeared, Captain Mariner. We have no knowledge of their current whereabouts, although we are of course actively seeking both of them. Other than the recently retired Dr Walton and Miss Levin, in fact - who also resigned as you say a year ago and moved to Los Angeles - we have no knowledge of where any of the board members are. None of the current board members, in fact. Except for yourself, of course. Would you read the minutes as marked, please?’

  ‘No. I wish to consult my lawyer. I will not answer any more questions until I see him.’

  ‘I have cautioned you, Captain Mariner, so you are aware of the damage that silence could do to your defence. And I must further tell you, sir, that I propose to charge you formally with the Corporate Killing of Captain James Jones under Section One of the Corporate Killing Act 2007. Which states that any executive of any enterprise, holding senior office or responsibility for health and safety, who causes the death of an associate or employee through commission, omission or negligence shall be deemed personally liable for the said death.’

  ‘Damn!’ said Andrew Balfour, waving a newspaper under Robin’s nose the moment she entered Heritage House. ‘Just look at that, would you? Look what the sneaky sods have done here!’

  But even when she saw what he was pointing at, she didn’t understand its importance. Not at first.

  Andrew had arrived at Heritage House before she did but he did not have the key for the flat. He was tempted to go straight to Snow Hill in case Richard was somehow getting himself into more trouble - a feeling compounded after he talked to Margharita on his cellphone. But he had agreed to meet Robin here and so he thought he should wait for a little while at least. He had parked in the main car park and taken up residence in the main lobby. Soon bored, he picked up a current newspaper and started leafing through it. The report was on page 5. He read and reread it avidly but the headline and subhead told him all he really needed to know:

  INQUEST FINDS JONES OF THE GOODMAN RICHARD DEAD BY MISADVENTURE

  Yesterday’s Coroner’s inquest declares Captain Jones and his missing officers lost, presumed dead, through failures of health and safety

  ‘Don’t you see?’ Andrew said intensely to Robin as she was still trying to catch her breath. ‘That’s where the majority of people from Goodman Richard were yesterday. Why they were so obviously not at our inquiry. And the people who arrested Richard at the inquiry were simply waiting for this verdict before they moved. There was perhaps not a trap per se but there was certainly some pretty tricky timing. And it’s going to be a field-day for conspiracy theorists.’

  ‘It’s too much, Andrew, I can’t get my head round it...’

  ‘Look. It must go something like this. The government passed their Corporate Killing legislation. It’s long-awaited, high-profile, flagship legislation. The Department for the Environment - with the police - have responsibility for applying the new law, and must have come under increasing pressure to do so as time went by. The loss of the Goodman Richard comes along. It looks like an excellent test case. In all the papers. Full of heroics. But with a ship at the heart of it that might not have been perfectly maintained and run. A ship whose captain and senior people are missing presumed dead.

  ‘So. The three elements of it are prepared as quickly as possible - the Lionheart inquiry, the coroner’s inquest into Jones and co, the Goodman Richard case. Quickly but carefully - we can tell that by the way the inquiry was hijacked...’

  ‘Hijacked, perhaps, when it became a racing certainty how the inquest was going to come out...’ said Robin, thoughtfully.

  ‘There you are! Conspiracy theory! I knew you’d get the hang of it.’

  ‘What do they say? A paranoid is only somebody who really knows what’s going on.’

  ‘That’s about it. Yes. And, if you follow that line of thinking you can see how fully they have prepared for this contingency. Their whole game-plan was in place, wasn’t it? Straight back to Snow Hill for the charges so they can use the Old Bailey for the trial. I wouldn’t be surprised if they haven’t got a judge in mind. The judiciary are of course completely independent of the political process - like the police. But some are more independent than others - stands to reason if you think about it.’ He made a gesture as though rolling up his trouser leg. ‘Now, back to Richard. He’s on the charity board that runs the Goodman Richard, so he’s in the frame for the Corporate Killing charge...’

  ‘But so are all the other members of the board.’

  ‘And they could all be sitting in police stations up and down the country. Or, given where Richard is - and why - they could all be sitting in various interview rooms or holding cells in Snow Hill.’

  ‘Is that likely?’

  ‘Who knows? In a case of conspiracy where there are several people involved in the same crime they don’t usually charge everyone in the same police station. But they’ve been known to. And of course there’s a point to laying the charges at Snow Hill, isn’t there?’

  ‘Plus, of course, there’s never been a case quite like this one anyway. So they’ll be testing things out as they go along.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘Right. So what do we do? Stroll up to the police station and demand to see Richard?’

  ‘We could try. Why the hell not? At the very least we could find out who else they have in custody. And we’d better get on with it too. I don’t want him persuaded into any little chats with the investigating officers unless I’m there to hold his hand.’

  Chapter 17: Bail

  ‘Conditions of bail are set in the warrant,’ the Custody Officer explained. ‘They include a security in the sum £100,000. Surrender of passpor
t. Regular reporting to a specified police station or stations.’ He noted the way Robin was reaching into her bag. ‘A personal cheque will not suffice for the security,’ he warned.

  Robin shot him a withering look and produced Richard’s passport. Seeing his eyebrows heading for his hairline she explained, ‘We guessed this would be part of it. We keep them at Heritage House. I am also aware that a personal cheque will not do. I assume, however, that a banker’s draft will.’

  ‘You - or whoever set bail - will be aware that Captain Mariner’s business calls him all over the world at a moment’s notice,’ amplified Andrew. ‘They are kept in a safe at the office as a matter of routine.’

  ‘Well,’ said the Custody Officer quietly, ‘I’m afraid the Captain will be answering no such calls until this matter is resolved, sir.’

  Robin was reaching into her bag again and this time she pulled out a personal phone. She keyed in a number from the memory and turned away as the phone was answered on the second ring.

  ‘Harry? Yes, it’s me. I’ll explain later, but what’s the quickest way to get a banker’s draft for £100,000? I see. That quickly? OK. Could I ask you to do that? Bring it to me yourself. No. Not Heritage House. Snow Hill police station; it’s not far.’

  She turned back. ‘Mr Black, my accountant, will bring the banker’s draft himself within the hour. What else was there?’

  ‘I have to see Richard himself of course,’ said Andrew.

  ‘Captain Mariner has to agree to report to the police every forty-eight hours...’ continued the Custody Officer, reading from a set of notes - supposed Robin - or perhaps from the warrant itself. Who knew?

  ‘How in God’s name can he be expected to run a business if he has to do that?’ she exploded irritably.

  Andrew was still hovering, for the Custody Officer was focusing all his attention on the dynamic, almost overpowering Robin. ‘We agree which station - or stations - are most appropriate,’ the Custody Officer began. ‘They all have electronic access. We fax or email each other-’