The Outing, page 2
“Johnny,” said Robert.
“That’s right. You two were in the same tute or something. He’s very good-looking,” she took a sideways look at Robert. “You do realise if he’d been available, you wouldn’t have stood a chance,” she grinned.
Robert smiled too, remembering Marnie, noticeably pregnant, despondently drowning her sorrows in lemonade. Her dad had insisted Johnny come with her. He half-chuckled now remembering her quip about it being too late to worry about getting into trouble, and then he shivered involuntarily as his body reacted to the memory of bunching up next to Johnny in the booth while he stared, concentrating, on the gorgeous, self-assured blond opposite him, now his wife, who was saying something to him. He switched his attention back to the external world and caught the end of what she was saying.
“…used to see a fair bit of him, didn’t you?”
“Johnny? I suppose. Apart from our theatre stuff, we used to go jogging together.” Robert drifted back into a daze, looking out over Brisbane from the top of Mt Coot-tha after one of their runs. Johnny had been going to ask him something and changed his mind.
“Well?” she said again, “your day? That’s how this trip down memory lane started.”
“He came in today. To the office. He was arrested.”
“What? I don’t suppose you can go into details… are you representing him?”
“Yeah. Yeah,” he repeated.
“But,” she started.
“No,” he said, “it’s not anything to do with commercial or business. Duncan asked me to do it. Seems Johnny’s boyfriend, partner whatever, was an old friend of your Fad’s. Judge Matthews.”
She shook her head, “Never met him. Must’ve been a long time ago. Not that Dad’s the social type, as you know. It was mostly just me and him growing up. What happened?”
“Nothing. That’s the thing. The police concocted a fake charge to get back at the Judge. You know that story? It was all over the news. The SP bookie who was arrested and then the evidence disappeared. They had to abandon the case. That was Judge Matthews.”
“Yeah, I remember, and he made those comments about the ludicrous idea of corrupt police in charge of an inquiry into corrupt police. What a joke.”
“Except this isn’t a joke.”
“No,” she said, “I didn’t mean…”
“I know. I know. Sorry. It all just got to me.”
They were interrupted by a shriek from the living room.
“You go,” Lauren said. “I’ve got a bit more to do for dinner. They’re already in their pyjamas. Oh, and can you hang up the wet towels in the bathroom. I didn’t get to that yet.”
The television was on. James Dibble’s half-smiling judgment-free face reassuring everyone that the despite the disappointments and disasters he was reading about, everything would be OK. It’s only the news. There’ll be something else to tut about tomorrow. “Come on kiddoes, Daddy’s reading your story tonight,” he pushed the dial to off.
Their excited squeals and clapping made his heart clench, “OK, OK. Isn’t this supposed to be quiet time?”
They each pressed a forefinger to their lips, “Shhhh.”
“That’s better. Now, let’s be quiet as little mice and tippy-toe to bed.”
They tippy-toed down the hall. The two equal-sized smaller ones in front, the big one following, rocking slightly from side to side on long spindly legs with oversized feet.
With the closed book on his lap, Robert sat on the reading chair between their beds, watching the covers rising and falling with a soft even rhythm. He could smell the lingering fragrance of soap and closed his eyes, consciously expelling the tension from his neck and letting his shoulders droop. Fleeting images of the day moved around and he blinked them away concentrating first on Emma, then on Thomas, then lifting his chin towards the ceiling to conjure that lovely wash of gratitude.
Today he chose one of his favourite hits of happy, smiling as he watched himself coming into the old kitchen with a bottle of Great Western Champagne even though Lauren couldn’t have any.
“The flutes are up there,” she’d pointed to the overhead cupboard, seeming to have caught the mood without him even saying. “But how did you know?”
“What? They rang me.” The cork popped, and they’d laughed, catching the foam. “Did they call here too?”
“Who? No,” said Lauren rubbing her bump. “Who are you talking about Robert? Who was supposed to ring here?”
“The bank. We got it. We got the loan. They rang ten minutes before close of business. Their business. I've been sitting on the news since three. I wanted to see your face when I told you.”
She put the glass down and hugged him. As they drew apart, he’d noticed her tears.
“What's wrong?” he said. “What’s the matter?”
She sniffed, “No, no, go on… what happened? How?”
“Your dad. Remember he’d said my billings were way higher than almost everyone else’s and he was going to look into my pay at the end of the financial year?” He’d waited for the nod. “Well, I asked him if he'd bring it forward because with the recession and interest rates moving into double figures it was looking like the bank was going to say no.”
“And he did?”
This time he’d nodded. “The pay lady did up a letter and well… now it's a matter of signatures. We'll be in our own house before the baby arrives,” he raised his glass.
They’d clinked.
“Well, that's a relief,” she said, her voice surprisingly flat. “But you've got it slightly wrong.”
“What?”
She’d taken a tiny sip of her champagne and grinned, “We'll be in our own house,” her grin broadening, “before the babies are born.” And she’d watched his face.
“Joking,” he’d said. “You're joking! Babies?”
“Two, Robert,” she put her glass down, and he’d picked her up and swirled her. “We're having twins.”
He waited. But this time the glow was missing. He was flat. Something, someone, was pulling at the edges of his contentment. Annoyed, he stopped himself from counting and stood up.
He’d have a chat to Duncan tomorrow.
Chapter 3
“I didn’t expect this from you, Robert,” Duncan’s lip was a thin line. “I thought you were better than that. He’s an old friend for goodness sake.”
Robert lifted his head, “And that’s why I should remove myself.”
“I asked you because I trusted you’d do the right thing and treat this with the seriousness it deserves. Lives and careers are at stake if this isn’t managed properly. When Johnny said you’d been friends at university I knew you’d be the only one here I’d want for the case.” He shook his head. “When’s his appointment?”
“Tomorrow. Eleven.”
“Give this some thought, Robert. If you’re still of the same opinion, I’ll make myself available. Let me know by four if I’m going to have to rearrange my day, will you?”
Back in his own office Robert leaned into his oversized swivel chair, interlaced his fingers on top of his head and did what Duncan said. He thought. He was a professional. His personal life, past or present, should not interfere with his work life. And he’d acted rashly going into Duncan’s office with his demands. If Marnie had been the client, he reasoned, he’d have had no hesitation. And except for the last time he’d seen Johnny, they’d been easy in each other’s company. Good friends. He huffed aloud, hearing Lauren’s voice saying ‘and it’s not like you have that many.’ No, he agreed, not since-
He adjusted his shoulders, shrugging of his resistance. He was used to his own company but it had been nice to have a friend. To be someone’s friend.
Surely you could do that? Be his friend.
He reached for the phone. He might as well tell Duncan now.
***
A few days later Robert tapped his biro impatiently on his desk. Maybe Duncan had been held up in traffic or something. He started to reach for a new case folder but Duncan’s arrival broke his momentum. Robert waved him in.
“No,” said Duncan. “I only have a minute or two. What have you got?”
Robert checked his notes, without really needing to, “Not that much. He and Harry have been living together at Harry’s place for about three years, but Johnny has his own place too, which is rented out to cover the repayments. Harry helped him with the deposit, but I wouldn't expect that to come up. The important thing is that it gave them separate addresses.”
“Excellent. And he's living there now?”
Robert nodded, “Johnny’s tenant left recently. So, when all this happened, he moved straight in.”
Duncan waited.
“And Johnny said he'd hibernated when he came back from Sydney. He didn't say why. I didn't press. Only to ensure there'd be no surprises, nothing they could pick on. Even so, the police have no jurisdiction over anything occurring in another State. After a while Harry had prodded him to step up, do something useful, so he did. And although he hasn’t been in full-time work, it’s been regular.” Robert's thumb started the list. “He volunteers at a shelter, went back to uni, social-work, and works part-time at the Park Royal Hotel.”
“In the bar?”
“Mostly front office.”
“Good. Good. The magistrate will like all of that.”
“There’s something bothering me,” Robert paused. “Johnny said that more recently, things had changed, in their relationship. Harry was more like a kindly uncle, or they were best friends, who live together.”
Duncan half-chuckled, “A bit like an old married couple.”
“Really?” The irritation in his voice surprised Robert.
Duncan straightened, “Harry and I, we're about the same age. That's pretty normal.”
“Except it's three years, not twenty. And with respect, your situation is completely different.”
“Granted, and it's none of our business unless it has some bearing on the case.”
“Maybe it does.”
“Go on.”
“Purely conjecture,” Robert hesitated. “I suppose my question is more about why isn't Harry supporting Johnny more? Why's he banished? Yeah. I know to maintain a different address and for appearance’s sake etcetera. It’s just, he’s fending for himself completely and what was the distancing about before this happened? Something's wrong. Maybe the Judge was involved in this. In deliberately setting things up to get rid of Johnny. Or using it anyway.”
Duncan frowned.
“I can't figure out how the police were paid off, which one would assume was to put all this to bed and yet Johnny's still arrested, and as yet, there’s been no, ‘oh sorry, we made a mistake’,” Robert shrugged. “Did you get Harry’s statement? Were you right? Is the whole thing a sham to put the wind up Harry and get some quick dollars at the same time?”
“Here,” Duncan sad. “The statement.”
Robert glanced over it, “Damn.”
“You could be right,” said Duncan. “I mean about the personal relationship scenario, but that doesn’t have any bearing on the case as it stands. And the statement? I read it through a couple of times to be sure, and I don’t see anything incriminating to support the arrest, and I think that’s intentional. It’s hinting, pointing, which is probably to appease the police-”
“Except,” Robert interrupted, “without checking in with Harry, we don’t know for sure. Are you still planning to contact him?”
“I thought not. That,” Duncan pointed at the paper in Robert’s hand, “is supposed to support the prosecution, so for us he’s a hostile witness. We’d be able to cross examine, but what purpose would it serve? He’s not about to admit to anything. His career would be over.”
“Yes. But aren't you supposed to be old friends? Why tell Johnny to see you?”
“We were. Years ago. He was never fond of Lauren's mother, and well, even after she passed away… different circles...”
“Perhaps a chance meeting, friends of friends?” Robert suggested. “Somewhere public where people would expect you both to unexpectedly meet up.”
“Don't hold your breath. People aren't lining up to get their faces in front of the police these days. I doubt Harry’s social calendar is brimming at the moment. Not after the press he’s had. I don’t blame people for keeping their distance.”
“Do you honestly believe it's that bad? The corruption.”
“On top of turning blind eyes where it suits them to, heavy handed thuggery when it’s not warranted, and interfering with the justice system, all of which have been splashed about on the pages of the Courier Mail recently by our friend Simon Draper, they're blackmailing a judge. And you can bet your bottom dollar there’s more. A lot more. So yes. I do.”
Robert sighed, “I caught something on the news last night. There’s been a recent crackdown on prostitution, massage parlours. Or there’s going to be.”
“I wonder what Joh’s up to?” said Duncan. “That kind of news is usually bandied about when he’s up to something shady and wants to divert the public’s attention. They’ll arrest a few of the girls and call it a triumph of law and order, very loudly so we all hear it, and everything will go back to normal with the real crooks sitting pretty. As usual.”
“I try and stay away from all that. Force of habit. Dad, you know,” said Robert. “Anyway, we have our own problems.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Duncan. “But,” he pointed again at the document in Robert’s hand “to me this also says Harry’s tendering a vaguely worded statement in lieu of actually making an appearance. He can’t incriminate himself or Johnny if he’s not there. And depending on how the questions on either side are framed, everything can be made to fall within the bounds of truth-telling. I’m sure you get my point. When’s the committal?”
“Two weeks,” said Robert.
“Make an appointment with Johnny,” said Duncan. “We need character witnesses for him. No. Better to have written references to offer the Magistrate. But go through the possibilities with him first and stipulate the detail you want. The person in charge where he volunteers, that kind of thing. This defence is completely do-able Robert,” Duncan’s eyes glazed slightly as if he was reviewing an imaginary courtroom scene, “but you’re going to have to coach Johnny. I said it when he first came to see us, he’s got to come across as a straight man. Convincingly. No dramatic camp gestures. There must be absolutely no doubt the police have made a mistake. Johnny can be sympathetically supportive of them. Understanding. And he doesn’t hold a grudge. The police were only doing their job. That kind of thing.”
“I’ll call him.”
“Good,” Duncan turned to go. Then turned back, “Robert, you need to be low key too. This isn’t about political point scoring or news stories. You know that, I’m sure. Just stating the obvious. But do you think it’s worth having a chat to your dad, or Simon Draper, make sure he doesn’t make a hullaballoo out of this. It’s his story that got Johnny arrested. We don't want Johnny to become a target when it's over.”
Robert half nodded, “Dad never has anything to say about Joh, or his cronies, anyone really. Not that I’d discuss any of this with him. And Simon? Warning him off would be like waving a flag. My thoughts are, it hasn’t reached the news so why broadcast it? Oh, I'm also putting together a submission to expunge the arrest record.”
“Excellent. Does Johnny know? That this will follow him forever?”
Robert nodded.
“Well, here’s hoping your submission does the job and he doesn’t need to worry about that.”
***
“Thanks, Anna,” Robert ignored the flashing orange button on his phone while he closed the file, jotted billing details on the cover-sheet and placed it into the tray. A self-satisfied smile hovered at the memory of the overburdened desk, the haphazard file-stacks on the floor, his mind freeze and itchy fingers, when he’d first arrived in the room as an article clerk. He’d sorted it all in no time. And it had stayed that way.
He reached for the folder atop the next tray and pushed the flashing button, “Hey Johnny, what kept you?”
“Sorry. Uni.”
“Of course. Can you come in? Duncan and I've been discussing things, and we've got some work to do.”
“Now? Only, I've got an extra shift today. I don't want to blow it off. I’m a bit skint. No more housekeeping from Harry, and,” Johnny stopped. “No, it’s OK, I’ll get ready for work and come to your office.”
“Have you got a video player?” Robert asked.
When Johnny said yes, Robert checked his watch, “Good. I'll come over to yours instead. It’s sort of on my way home, a minor detour. Start thinking about character witnesses. Your boss, lecturers, people who'll vouch that you're kind, honest and hardworking. That sort of thing.”
“Meeting?” Anna asked.
He nodded, “Then home. Why don't you go early today?”
As her surprised frown softened, he noticed her face become lovely, and wondered if there was a Mr Anna; if she had children. Guiltily he realised she'd been working for him for two years, and he didn't know. “So how do you plan to use this unexpected free time?”
She hesitated, “I'm not sure. I might take mum out for an early tea. By the time I get home, she's too tired to do anything much.”
“Oh. Is she not OK?”
“They say it's MS.”
“Oh Anna, how dreadful. If you need to take off early sometimes, tell me. I know you'll catch up.”
“Oh. Thanks. But I couldn't Mr Carson, it-”
“Not taking no for an answer. Surely once a week it wouldn't hurt. Let's talk about it tomorrow.”
“That's really kind of you,” she lowered her head, blinking.
“Good. Well, I'd better be off then.”
His hand reached the elevator button without his foot kicking the door, and he smiled at his unexpected grace.
