24 comments/ 28719 views/ 26 favorites A Time Well Spent By: Cromagnonman It would do no good, at this time, to protest my innocence to this crime for which I have spent the past five years of my life paying my debt to society. The police didn't believe me back then, neither did the twelve people, not smart enough to avoid jury duty, believe me. I had thought that my lovely wife would not only have believed me, but would have waited for me to get out of gaol, but no, she did neither. So it was, that on my first day of freedom, there was no-one to meet me outside the prison gates. I often felt alone in prison, but not as alone as I felt right now. Don't get me wrong, I could have had lots of friends inside, I could have been someone's 'wife', but that did not interest me, so I spread the rumour that I was waiting for my (unspecified but hinted at) test results. This kept them at bay until I had managed to establish myself as something of a reclusive academic, spending all my free time in the prison library, reading and scribbling notes. I was now too weird even for those with that sexual predilection. With the approval of the Department of Corrections, I enrolled in an Open University course in Criminology, with an emphasis on criminal behaviour of individuals. I wanted to know what would cause someone to fabricate evidence in order to have me convicted of a crime that I did not commit. As I trudged down the long access road toward the main road and the bus stop, a car eased to a halt beside me and the passenger's window slid down. "It's a long walk, do you need a lift?" "That would be nice thank you." I climbed into the car. "I'm Natalie Parish, I'm a Social Worker." She said as I clicked the seat belt into its buckle. "And I'm Tom Cowley, hardened criminal. I'm pleased to meet you Natalie, I think." "How long were you inside?" "Five years, give or take a week or two." "What were you in for? If you don't mind me asking." "I don't mind, it makes no difference now anyway. I was charged with Manslaughter." "But you didn't, is that it?" 'No I didn't kill him. Don't get me wrong I hit him with my car, but then he was already dead, I just couldn't prove it. I was driving along this road and suddenly, there he was, right in front of me. The damage to the front of my car was consistent with the impact of me hitting him, but the blood spatter, or lack of blood, and injuries suggested that he was already dead and pushed in front of my car. The police and Forensic experts said otherwise. The fact that the man was someone that I knew, and that I was involved in a legal action against, caused the police evidence to be slanted to it being premeditated and not accidental. They couldn't prove that, otherwise I would have been charged with Murder and still inside. But the jury was confronted by a continuous stream of expert witnesses all saying the same thing, that the circumstantial evidence was overwhelming. At least my lawyer managed to convince the jury that there was sufficient doubt for them to find me not guilty of that part of it. I guess that causing death by dangerous driving was a consolation prize." "But five years is still a long time for that charge, I would think." "It would have been shorter if I'd pleaded guilty, at least that's what the judge said when he handed down the sentence. "I have been influenced by the fact that," He stated, peering at me with that myopic look of his. "In his continued protestation of innocence, the prisoner has shown no remorse, and has shown a lack of awareness as to the seriousness of the charges against him. If there was one benefit to all of this, it gave me the time to study the forensic evidence to see how good it was. My Lawyer appealed on my behalf, but the Appeals Court held that, as he could produce no new and compelling evidence, there was no cause for them to overturn the original judgement. Believe me the one thing that kept me going was what I discovered during my research." "When you say research, what do you mean?" "I now have a degree in Criminology. Apart from my research into individual criminal behaviour, I carried out extensive research into the collection and presentation of evidence, and the way that this presentation can be slanted in such a way as to increase the likelihood of conviction." "I suppose that you're going to tell me that the police evidence in your trial was deliberately weighted against you?" "It was. I could not deny that the car that I was driving hit the deceased person, I knew that, but what I did deny was that I had deliberately set out to run the man down. In the eyes of the police, and there was a strong emphasis on this, I had the motive, the legal proceedings against him that they claimed that I had come to realise that I would lose. I had the means, my car, and the opportunity, I knew his movements, and that he would be at that place at that time. They did not look beyond the obvious, and they stated time and time again, that motive, means and opportunity equalled guilt." "Do you have any idea who would have set you up for this?" "Apart from my darling now ex-wife, no." "So what happens now?" "My first priority is to find somewhere to live, then I need to find a job and soon, I doubt if my former boss will have held my job open for me, and the way things are going it's going to be hard to find anyone prepared to take on someone who's just been released from gaol." "I can help you with accommodation, it's not much but it should do until you find something better. As for a job, what were you doing before this happened?" "I was Head of Sales for a car dealership that dealt in high-end cars. Cheap stuff like Lamborghini, Ferrari, Maserati, you know, bread-and-butter lines." "There's something that I learned several years ago and that is, when looking for employment, you should take a marketing approach. Research your target market, that's employers that you're interested in, what they do, how they do it, and what their long term goals are. You then research your product, that's you in case you're wondering, know as much as you can about what you can do, what you like to do and what your long term goals are. Armed with this knowledge you structure your marketing campaign around the fact that you have the skills and experience to do the job, and the motivation and enthusiasm to do the job well. I would also suggest that you find someone who can restructure your CV to hide the last five years of your life without lying. What you need is a skills based CV or Resumé that highlights that you have the skills and experience to do the job, without actually saying where you used them. Stick your work history at the end of the application in the hope that they will be skim reading by then, and overlook the lack of recent work history." "What if I say that for the past four years I was a full-time student and now have a degree? If I were to place my Educational qualifications at the beginning of the CV, that will cover the hole in work history without lying." "Yes, do that, it just might work." She pulled off the main road into a side street before stopping outside a small hotel. "We use this as emergency shelter for people living under threat, usually from partners. There's a cafeteria on the ground floor so there's no need to go out. I should warn you that some of the women in here are in a fragile state emotionally, while others will rip your balls off if you make a pass at them." "I plan to keep to myself and get a good night's sleep without the snoring of a cell mate." "Great. I'll drop in to see you in the morning, I should have some people that you can go and see about finding work and a place to stay." "You've been very kind to me, how can I ever repay you?" "By keeping your nose clean and moving on with your life. Forget about revenge, it'll eat you up." "I'm not looking for revenge as much as trying to find out who did this and why." "When you find out, turn it over to the police and let them take care of it." "I'll think about it. It would be good to be there at the kill." "As long as you're a spectator and not a participant. I'll see you in the morning, so don't go anywhere until I get here." I checked in and was given a key to my room. I unpacked and took my notes from my bag and sat on the bed to read through them for the millionth time. I could just about recite the whole fifty odd pages by rote if necessary. There was a knock on the door that I answered, to be faced by the young woman from the reception desk. "I forgot to tell you about the dinner arrangements. Dinner is served between 6:00 and 8:00pm in the dining room. I need to warn you that, because you're the only male in here, there will probably be some competition to see who sits at the same table as you. I should tell you that some of the women here a man-eaters, and will eat you alive. If you want, I'll sit with you to keep them away so that you can eat in peace." "That would be nice, thank you." "Natalie told me that you were a student, and new in town, and looking for permanent accommodation. But that's not true, is it?" "It's partly true, I have recently graduated from university, and I have been away for a few years, so you could say that I'm new in town. She didn't really lie to you." "When you say away, you mean inside, don't you?" "Yes, I was released this morning." I couldn't lie in my answer to her direct question. "What's all this paperwork?" She asked, indicating the papers scattered over the bed. "I'm starting post-graduate studies with the view to gaining a PHD, these are some study notes for my thesis when I get around to writing it." That sounded better than it being the research that I was hoping would lead me to whoever set me up, and fuck waiting for the cops, despite what Natalie had said, I mean to seek revenge for five lost years of my life." "My name's Julie by the way, and I know that you're Tom, at least that's what you signed in as. It doesn't worry me if that's not your real name, hardly any of the girls use their real names, for security reasons." "Is Julie your real name?" By way of an answer, she took out her driver's license that was in the name of Julie Hall. "I'll see you down stairs when you're ready, I won't have dinner until you get there." "I look forward to it." I said. And with that she was gone. The word had spread that there was a rooster in the henhouse and there was a mad scramble for a position at my table. Julie just managed to grab a chair ahead of the crush. "Back off girls, give the man some room." "Bitch." One of them said. "Who said that you were sitting there?" "I did. I reserved this seat and I mean to keep it. Suck it up girls, he's mine." "I don't think that you should wind them up like this, there could be blood on the lino before the night's finished." "Listen to me Tom, I want to be the first to try a man who has been on short rations for the past five years." "Who told you it was five years?" "I checked up on you." She whispered, her face millimetres from mine, totally ignoring the glares of the other girls. "I know all there is to know about you." "And that doesn't turn you off?" "No, it's something of a turn-on if you must know." "Why don't we eat and see what the night brings." "I forgot to tell you that it's a serve yourself buffet here, we can't afford to employ waiting staff on our limited funding. Don't worry, I'll protect you." "And who's going to protect me from you?" I stood in line, a tray in hand, shuffling towards the rows of Bain Maries with the warm delectables. "You'd better watch yourself with that Julie, she's a screamer, the whole centre knows when she's getting a bit, we hear it often enough." A quiet voice behind me whispered a warning to me. "Thanks for the warning, nothing was going to happen anyway." "You don't bat for the other team by any chance?" "No. I just want a quiet night's sleep, that's all." "Someone's not going to like that, prides herself on scoring every time." "I hope that she takes disappointment well." "We can all live in hope." Was she telling me that she was not about to give up trying? "What was Sheila saying about me back there?" Julie asked. "Who said that she was talking about you?" "It's not rocket science, I caught a few words and got a good idea what she would have been saying. So what if I get a little vocal? I'm a firm believer in the freedom to speak your mind, I just tend to take it a little too far at times, that's all." "It isn't so much the noise, they've probably heard that before, it's the frequency that she was warning me about. She hinted that it was a frequent occurrence." "That's it, she's out of here in the morning. I don't care who's threatening to beat the crap out of her when he finds her, she can't talk about me like that." "Don't you think that you're over-reacting a little? She's probably disappointed that she missed out on the opportunity to share my bed." "Tough, that's what I say." "I hope that you think the same way when I tell you that I intend to sleep alone tonight. Not forever, just tonight." "You're kidding me, right?" "Nope. I intend to enjoy my first night of freedom, that's all." "It's that Natalie bitch. I saw the way that she was looking at you with those big soppy eyes of hers. You're saving your first time for her, aren't you?" "No. It never entered my head that she was even the slightest bit interested in me." "Well she is. I can't believe that you never saw the way that she was looking at you, it was so obvious." I couldn't work out whether Julie was speaking from jealousy or she was trying to undermine Natalie's chances, not that she had any. I have to state right here and now, that I have no doubts about my sexuality, I have ample proof of my love of sex with women. Ever since I was old enough I had an active sex life and, apart from one bad decision, I could have been happy with the one partner for the rest of my life. That one decision led me to marry my wife, the person that I was confident would stand by me in my time of need. I won't make that mistake again. Any idea I might have had of getting a good night's sleep were dashed within minutes of me crawling into bed. It was a light tap on my door, just loud enough for me to hear. "Who is it?" I asked through the thin door. "Julie, I need to speak with you about tomorrow, can I come in?" Cranking my brain into hypo-drive, I ran through the choices that I had. If I let her in she would see it as an invitation to better things, but if I left her standing outside talking to a door, someone might come along and the word would spread throughout the building in seconds. I opened the door. "This had better be important, waking me up like this." "Bullshit, you weren't asleep. If you had been you wouldn't have heard me knocking. "I'm a very light sleeper. Next time I'll ignore you." "If that happens I'll just kick the door down." "Okay, so what is so important that you just had to come and disturb my sleep?" "I felt the need to tell you that there's talk of a reverse gang bang when you come down for breakfast in the morning. I have taken it on myself to provide you with a body guard to protect you from these horny girls." "Would I be right in assuming that said body guard will be you?" "You just might be right." "And that, to provide maximum protection you will have to spend the night with me in case they decide to come early." "What a good idea, now why didn't I think of that?" She was standing close enough to touch me, which of course she did. Her hand reached out and touched my cheek. "Do you know that you're the best looking bloke around here?" "Only because I'm the only bloke." "Be that as it may, I feel the need for some male companionship, and I know that you must be desperate for a woman." "Would you be offended if I were to tell you that I'm not that desperate?" "Yes I would. Here I am offering it to you on a platter, no strings attached, no repercussions. Once you leave here you will be forgotten." "That's just it, I have never made love on that basis, it's not in my nature." "Who said anything about making love, this is all about sex, good sex. I will make no pretence of falling in love with you, that's not in my nature. My mantra is casual guilt free sex." "Look, while the invitation is very tempting, I'll have to decline. If you must stay the night to protect me I'll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed." "You really know how to boost a girl's ego, don't you? I'm so close to either raping you or telling the world what an utter bastard you are. Which would you prefer?" "I suppose that I'll have to leave you with your ego intact, and let you fuck me, I couldn't be bothered taking you to court for slander if you go around calling me a bastard. Get it over with." "Goodie." She released the hold on my balls, which had been a major factor in my capitulation, and launched herself at me, knocking me back onto my bed. Talk about a voracious appetite for sex. "Stay exactly where you are." She ordered. There I was, flat on my back, my cock was soon standing up like a periscope. She proceeded to ride me to exhaustion, an exhaustion that couldn't come soon enough. Because I found it hard to respond to her, my mind wasn't into it, and it took forever for me to come. It was a relief when it eventually happened, because she got off me and pulled the bedclothes over us and we went to sleep. Julie and I went separately to breakfast the next morning. I made the mistake of letting her go first, and by the time I sat down, the whole world, or at least that part of it, knew that she and I had fucked. Somehow or other Natalie found out about it. "You fucked Julie last night, didn't you?" "I cannot tell a lie, yes I succumbed to her insistent demands for my body. If she wasn't so egoistic she'd tell you that I might have been physically present on this occasion, but my mind was elsewhere. She told me that I was saving myself for you. I of course told her that you would have nothing to do with me and that our relationship was strictly a professional one." "I can't think why she should think that you had any interest in me. You don't do you? No, forget I asked you that. I'll get us a coffee and we can talk about today's agenda." "Okay. What's first?" "I think that I might have found you somewhere to live. Now don't read anything into this, but it's in my apartment building, on the same floor as my apartment, in fact next door to mine. The vacancy came up suddenly and I talked the agent into letting you rent it. I hope that you don't mind." "No, why should I mind? I'm sure that it is a perfectly adequate apartment. Do I need to get any furniture?" "It is sort of furnished, but you'll still need some furniture and appliances. The stove is pretty ghastly, I'd ask for it to be replaced if I were planning on staying for any length of time." "How long is the lease?" "Six months, with the option to extend. I hope that's okay with you." "That's fine by me. What about the phone? I'll need Internet access for my research." "There's a phone socket but no phone. Do you have a computer?" "Somewhere in storage is my old computer, but the operating system will be out of date by now. It will probably be cheaper to get a new one with the latest system already installed." "I can let you have my old laptop. The department gives me a new one each year and lets me keep my old one for personal use. I've only just got my new one." "That would be great, thank you. You have been really helpful, you must let me repay you in some way." "Okay, let's get the paperwork out of the way and you can check the place out and see what you need to get to make it comfortable. Grab your things and bid a fond farewell to the lovely Julie and let's be going." A Time Well Spent "I'd watch the bitch if I were you." Julie said as I told her I was leaving. "Once she gets her claws in there's no hope of escape." "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." It wasn't much as apartments go, a single bedroom with a double bed with a comfortable feeling mattress, a dressing table and wardrobe. The bathroom had just enough room to swing a cat without braining it on the walls, a wash basin set into a bench top, a toilet in an alcove to one side and a bath with a shower over it and the most ghastly printed plastic shower curtain hanging from a rail. That would have to go for sure. The kitchen had a reasonable number of cupboards, a sink and stove that had seen better days. There was a refrigerator that needed a good scrub-out to get rid of the mould and smell before I thought about stocking it. I switched it on and it seemed to cool quickly enough without any strange noises, so I assume that it worked. "Well, what do you think?" "It will do for the time being. Is yours the same as this one?" "Pretty much. It's a place to stay that's close to work and facilities, and it's cheap enough that I can save money to get a better one, or a house." "Not much room for parties, is there?" "I'm not the party type. The occasional dinner with friends is about it." "Any friends in particular?" "No. Being a Social Worker seems to be a turn-off for most men, they can't understand why I would want to help people less fortunate than me." "So, no boyfriend. What about a girlfriend, is there one of those?" "Do you mean, am I a lesbian? No there are no same sex tendencies in my life. Can we change the subject and get back to you? What are your immediate plans?" "Arrange for a new stove so that I can practise my culinary skills, and replace that horrible cheap and nasty shower curtain." "Right, I'll take you to see the agent and arrange for a new stove, and then we'll go shopping for a new shower curtain. How does that sound?" "Don't you have to be at work?" "Not today, I've taken a flexi-day, (time off in lieu of extra hours worked) so I'm free and at your disposal for the day." The agent agreed to replace the old stove with a new and better one. He opened up a book on the desk in front of him. "I have here three other parties interested in this apartment, and none of them has requested that I should replace the stove." He stopped short of saying that he didn't feel under an obligation to replace it. "How long will that last." I said to him. "I turned it on and it tripped the circuit breaker, so there is something wrong with it and, for the cost of getting a repairer out to look at it, you could have a new one that would last a lot longer. And that doesn't take into consideration the cost and availability of parts, so you see, replacing it now and letting me have the apartment is better all-around than having to contact one of the other potential tenants and still have to replace the stove." He shoved the papers in front of me and handed me a pen so that I could sign the lease agreement. I now had my own apartment. Shopping with Natalie was an interesting experience, her taste in shower curtains was the same as mine, her appraisal of the cookware showed a practicality over looks, no fancy stuff, just pots and pans that would do the job intended. As for appliances, again we looked for what was necessary, not desired, a kettle and toaster, a coffee machine, not the best but good enough, and an electric combination pressure and slow cooker. A trip to the menswear store to stock up on decent jocks and socks, some jeans and shirts and shoes kitted me out until I had settled in and worked out what I wanted. I was looking at pyjamas. "Do you really need those?" She asked. "Not really. I usually sleep in jocks and tee shirt, it's not as if I'll be entertaining in bed." I got a funny look from her for that comment. "What?" "Nothing, just that I can't see you staying celibate for any length of time." "I won't be going out chasing women, I'm not that type." "Oh I believe you, but what if a woman decides to invite herself into your life?" "Meaning you?" I decided to play along with her mood. "You never know your luck, I just might do that." "I bet that if I take you up on that, you'll be out of there that fast that my head will spin." "We'll see." There was that look again. A stop at the supermarket for necessary groceries on the way home, and the shopping was completed. We arrived back at the apartment and unpacked. "Do you feel like something to eat?" I asked as I put the final item of groceries into the cupboard. "I do, but not here. There's a bistro down the road that serves great food, it'll be my treat, a sort of welcome to the apartment present." She was right, the food was good, and at this time of the day there were few other customers. "I have been asking myself, why are you putting yourself out for me like this, not for my good looks and charm surely." "That's part of it, the other part is that I took a look at your trial transcripts, before you ask, I have my ways of getting a look at them. Your lawyer missed a few key elements in the evidence that he could have challenged but didn't" "I know. Last night I thought that I'd double check my memory, so I re-read it for the million and oneth time, and it sort of leapt off the page and grabbed me by the throat. I don't know how I could have missed it every time that I read it before. In the on-site forensic examination of the body immediately after the incident, some congealed blood was noted, but the evidence submitted in court made no mention of this. Already congealed blood would indicate that the wound was some time old before my vehicle hit him. That along with so little blood at the scene should have been picked up, but wasn't." "The question that needs to be asked is, was the forensic report tampered with after the police got it, or was the omission in the examination or the original post mortem report?" "What we need is a copy of the original hand written forensic report, the one presented in court, and compare them, but how are we going to do that?" "We can't do anything tonight, so why don't we go home." Home for the night turned out to be Natalie's apartment. We arrived back in our apartment block, and I was going to just walk her to her door and go to mine. Somehow I accepted her invitation to her place for a nightcap. Our conversation was all very formal for a while, then, on about our third nightcap it had degenerated to some serious flirting on both our parts. I missed being in the presence of an intelligent, sophisticated and beautiful woman, so much so that when she issued her invitation for me to sleep with her, I, after some hesitation, accepted (bullshit, you had said yes a whole nanosecond after I had finished issuing the invitation, Natalie). There was a fundamental difference between Natalie and Julie, when it came to sex. With Julie it was merely her getting her rocks off with a one night stand, while with Natalie, it was the beginning of an exploration into what could be in the future. She was more concerned with me as a whole person, rather than a small (Huh, you call that small? Natalie) part of me. After a pleasant breakfast she left for work, showered and preened and looking positively radiant. "See you this evening, it'll be your turn to entertain me." With a quick but passionate kiss she was gone, leaving me to ponder my way back to my empty apartment. I had work to do today, I had to have my mail re-directed from the gaol to my new postal address, a box number at the GPO, and check out the resources at the State Library. Having made some headway into what I had to do, I gathered the ingredients for a dish that I hoped would surprise Natalie when she got home from work. I left an envelope stuck on her door with an invitation to dine with me. I asked that she be at my apartment at 7:00 for dinner at 7:30. I prepared what I could beforehand and had the rest ready to finish off after she arrived. That out of the way, I got myself tarted up with a shower and shave, squirt of the pits and into my new jeans and shirt. I was just lighting the candles when there was a soft tap on my door. I opened it to find a radiant Natalie in a very sexy dress waiting to come in. I put out my hand to draw her to me and we kissed as I kicked the door shut. "My, doesn't this look good, you didn't have to go to all this trouble just for me." "Yes I did, you have been so good to me that I have to find some way to repay your kindness. Tonight will go part of the way. Would you like a drink while I finish off the preparations?" "I'll have a white wine if you have it, thank you." "One white wine coming up." I took the bottle from the fridge and opened it, thank god for screw caps, poured both of us a glass and placed the bottle in an ice bucket that I'd prepared earlier. Dinner was a homemade seafood pizza. I had bought myself one of those pizza stones that was heating in the oven, (newly installed today, its maiden run) the freshly made by me pizza base was waiting for the topping. A splash of olive oil so that it didn't get soggy from the ingredients, a tomato based sauce followed by pieces of fish, prawns, calamari, mussels, baby octopus, some chopped onion and mozzarella cheese and into the oven. "We have about twenty minutes, what would you like to do? We could sit and listen to music, or we could watch TV, or we could just enjoy each other's company. Your choice." Her choice was to put her arms around my neck and kiss me. "What have you been doing today, apart from showing off your culinary skills?" "I have spent some time at the library checking through the newspaper records of the trial and its aftermath. I came to the conclusion that I'd been stitched up pretty well, the verdict seemed to have come as a shock to the journalists covering it." "Yeah, I got the same impression when I looked into it. What are you going to do about it?" "Tomorrow I'm going to speak to a barrister, a client from my previous life, who has a reputation for being very astute. I wish now that I had chosen him to represent me the first time around." "Good thinking. I wouldn't like to be you if you try to take them on, whoever they are, un-prepared." "I have worked too hard over the past five years to blow it all by going in half-cocked this time." The 'ping' of the oven timer announce that it was now time to eat. I took the pizza from the oven, it was nicely browned on top, and placed it on a cutting board. The crust gave a nice crunch as my knife cut into it. I took the cutting board and all into the dining room and placed it on the table. I opened a bottle of red and poured us each a glass. "Right, dig in while it's hot. I hope that I haven't stuffed it up." Natalie took a bite from the pointy end of her slice and munched on it. "Mmmm, where did you learn to cook like this?" "Years ago I got sick of the pizza franchise pizzas with their fancy stuffed crust and mountains of soggy toppings and decided that I would learn to make proper pizzas. This is my memory of that lesson." I had to admit that it did taste better than those that arrived by delivery driver in their padded containers in boxes with a layer of oil in the bottom. I took a sip of the red before attacking my second slice. Natalie was on her third by then. "I think I should have made two pizzas." "No, I'm glad that you didn't. If you'd made two we would have eaten two and one is enough, I don't want either of us getting fat." "How was your day?" I asked. "The usual. Oh I did go to the hotel and Julie asked after you." "What did you tell her?" "I told her that the last time I'd seen you, you were fine. What I didn't tell her was that the last time I'd seen you was this morning. She didn't need to know that, she's a handy person to have on my side because she keeps an eye on the residents and alerts me to any potential problems." "You really love your job, don't you?" "Yes, it's the kind of job that lets me feel as if I'm doing something important, and not just pushing papers around in an office somewhere." "I bet that you meet some interesting people." "Yes, you never know who you're likely to bump into, sometimes even hardened criminals." "I'd look out for them, they could be dangerous." "I don't know, I met one the other day who seemed perfectly normal." "I still think that you should be careful who you pick up, I wouldn't want to lose you." "Fat chance of that. I meant to talk to you about us." "Oh, oh. I don't think that I like the sound of this." "What I was about to say was, I like you a lot, probably even love you. I want to get to know you better. Because I believe that we could be good for each other in the long term, and I don't want to stuff it up by rushing into things. What do you think?" "I think that we should explore all facets of our relationship as it unfolds, and not try to pre-empt anything. I also think that we have the potential for a long term relationship. While last night would appear to be rushing it just a little, what I believe that it has done is to show us, in a very short-time, that we are sexually compatible. We didn't rush into sex like a couple of randy goats, and it definitely wasn't the same as commercial sex, not that I've had any experience at that, it's just what I've heard from in-mates talking of visits to brothels." "I'm glad about that, not that I've anything against working girls, some of my best clients fit into that category, and they are, by and large, decent people. Don't get me wrong, I've met some pretty rough girls in my time, and there wasn't a lot that I could do for them, just when I thought that I was making progress they were back on drugs. When they reach that stage there's not a lot you can do with them, just wait and hold out your hand to them and help to pick up the pieces of their lives if they'll let you." I took the now clean cutting board back to the kitchen and returned with a serving of tiramisu for each of us. As we'd finished the bottle of red, it was back to the white wine. "This has been good having you cook for me, we'll have to do it more often. Don't expect me to reciprocate, I'm not that much of a cook." "Do you want me to teach you?" "That would be nice." We finished the meal and, there was no suggestion on either of our parts, walked down to my bedroom. We were in no rush to consummate our relationship, it was slow and almost ethereal, our disrobing and getting into bed, and each other's arms. Natalie came long before me and clung to me as her spasms wracked her body. "It has been a long while, probably never, since I've had loving as good as this. You'd better not decide that you don't want me because, I have to warn you, my retribution will be swift and painful." "Consider me warned." We eventually drifted off to sleep. I woke before her and slipped out of bed to prepare breakfast for us. The smell of fresh coffee brought a half-asleep Natalie out to the kitchen. "Good morning Darling, what time is it?" "7:30 or a little after." That's all right, I don't have to rush, and I can enjoy this. My usual breakfast is on the run. She grabbed her cup of coffee and took a sip before helping me by buttering the toast. There was something nice about having her here with me like this. "I'd better go and get changed for work." She told me after we'd washed the dishes. "What would you like for dinner tonight?" I asked her as we stood just inside my closed door kissing. "Surprise me. Do you want me to come here?" "Yes, I would like that. Good-bye, I'll see you at seven." "'Bye my darling." She opened the door and was gone. My first job of the day was to find a good Lawyer. I remembered that we had several as customers, including my father, definitely not him. One that I remembered that had a good track record was Robert Browning, he was a regular buyer of Ferraris. I looked him up in the phone book and spoke to his secretary who told me that he was in court this morning and that she would get him to call me when he got back into the office. I set up a carry file with all of the information that I had about the trial and my research into the conduct of it, as well as my opinions into the way that the evidence was presented in a way that I didn't stand a chance. It was around 2:00pm when I got the call. "Mr Browning, It's Tom Cowley, I wonder if I could arrange an appointment with you to discuss several legal issues." "Resulting from your incarceration I gather." "Yes. I was released recently and would like to speak to you with the view to having the original trial declared a mis-trial and put in an application for a pardon." "I would need some substantial grounds for either of those, I hope that you have done your homework. Don't get me wrong, I believe that you were not well served by the Lawyer that represented you in that initial trial, but then the cards were heavily stacked in their favour. Let me see what you've got and we'll take it from there. Would 10:00 in the morning suit you?" "That would be great. You have given me some hope already, thank you." I was buoyed by his response, here was a man hinting that he would help me, but that I needed to show that I deserved to be helped, and that I wouldn't rely on him to do all of the grafting work. If I provided him with the ammunition, he would win the war for me. I had work to do. Back to the State Library for copies of the news reports of the trial. These were nothing more than a précis of proceedings, but they were better than nothing until I could get a copy of the transcripts. I was winding through the microfiche of one of the papers when a photo caught my eye, it was Jennifer, taken at around the time of the trial, with a man at a function, one of many that she didn't include me on her invitation. He was named as Stephen Rawlinson. This was the bastard that led the prosecution case. On a hunch I thought that I should check him out. The white pages directory provided me with a surprise. One of the three phone numbers listed against his name was very familiar. I arrived home in time to cook dinner, a cheat's version of a Moroccan tagine. This is best slow cooked in one of those ceramic dishes with the conical lid, but I found that I could achieve the same results using the electric pressure cooker. All that I needed to do was to chuck the ingredients into the cooker bowl, along with the seasonings, lock down the lid and set it on 'stew' and it would be cooked in just over half an hour. The couscous was also a cheat, it was a packet instant variety, but then I didn't have the time or the proper couscoussiere to cook it in. One thing that I had come to love about Natalie is her punctuality, Jennifer was habitually late for parties and important functions. Right on 7:00 there was that soft tap on my door that announced her arrival. I opened the door and stood back with my arms open to receive her. Her coming into my arms and kissing me didn't disappoint, it was as loving and affectionate as last night. "Hi Darling, how did you go today?" "I think I might have found a Barrister to take my case." "That's great, who is it?" "Robert Browning, do you know him or know of him?" "Yes, is this certain?" "No, he's testing me out. He knows of the case and has hinted that he thought that I didn't have the best legal representation at my trial, but that if I wanted him to represent me, I'd have to have already done most of the leg work." "Sounds fair. So, did you get any more info today?" "Yes, I took copies of the news reports of the trial, such as they are, but that's not the interesting discovery I made. There was a photo in the social pages of my lovely wife with a Stephen Rawlinson." A Time Well Spent "Not the Prosecutor in your trial?" "The very same." "When was the photo taken?" "The night after I was found guilty and locked up." "I guess they felt safe, there was no chance of you walking in on them, now was there?" "Trust you to make a joke of this." I laughed to let her know that I wasn't offended. "So what culinary masterpiece are you going to dish up for me tonight?" "A lamb tagine complete with couscous, how does that sound?" "Positively exotic. Shall I open the wine while you serve up?" "Please." "I have a surprise for you." Natalie said as we finished our meal. "What is it? Don't keep me in suspense." "I have . . . ." If there was a drummer here she would have waited for the drum roll. "At great personal expense, and using all of my charms and then some, acquired a copy of the original, writ in his own hand, Pathologist's report." "How, where?" I was stammering in my excitement. "Each government department must hold records for seven years before they are archived. Now the Forensic Pathology department of the University has to keep their records for at least that long just in case they are required as evidence in a court case. We have us a case that will require just such evidence, so I told them that I was working on a doctoral thesis and requested access to their records. I found the originals and they even photocopied them for me." "I think that you're wonderful, I could kiss you." "So what's stopping you?" We kissed for a while and then it was back to the matter at hand. Natalie was leaning against me as I read through the report that she had brought. I could feel her breast pressing against my naked body, her bare breast. Okay, so we did more than kiss, all right. "Now why would the police withhold this evidence?" I pondered out loud. "Because, for some reason known only to them, they wanted to make sure that you were convicted." "But why? I have never been in trouble with the police, apart from a couple of speeding tickets years ago." "Unsolved problem. Now can we get back to more important matters?" Her hand was in a position that told me what she considered more important at this very moment. It was getting harder to say good-bye to her in the mornings. "I promise that from Friday night to Monday morning we will not say good-bye to each other." "Why, are you going away for the weekend?" I was teasing her and she knew it. "If that's what you want, I'm sure that it can be arranged. On the other hand, you could come to my apartment on Friday night and not leave until Monday morning. What's it to be?" "If you hear Christmassy noises outside your apartment on Friday night, it'll be me arriving with bells on." "See you this evening, my Darling, silly, wonderful man." Punctuation kisses and she was gone. At precisely 10:00am I was ushered into the office of Robert Browning QC, Barrister. I was greeted by a familiar smiling face and a hand to shake. "How are you Tom? You seem to have survived your incarceration relatively unscathed." "I managed to keep my nose clean and not become some guys 'wife'." "They tell me that you put your time to good use and acquired a degree in Criminology of all things. Did this have anything to do with you wanting to get revenge from whoever it was that set you up?" "It had everything to do with it. I was going to find out who it was and beat the crap out of him, but I made a promise to a special person that physical violence wouldn't enter into my revenge. So that's why I contacted you, I want to do this legally." "Good. Now show me what you have." I opened up my file case and remove the indexed files. "The most important bit of evidence I have is this." I spread the forensic report that had been entered as evidence in the trial, and then the Pathologist's hand written report. "A very important part of this original report has disappeared from the trial report, the mention of the quantity of blood, both at the scene and post mortem combined, was significantly less than the quantity of blood in the adult male body. This led the Pathologist to reach the conclusion that the victim had been killed elsewhere, transported to the scene and the body shoved in the path of my car. I've read through the Prosecutions questions and at one point the Pathologist had attempted to expand on an answer to include this evidence, but was told by Rawlinson to only answer the question. Why my Solicitor didn't pick up on this point and press the issue I can only guess." "Very good so far, anything else?" "I thought that this might interest you." I took out the news photo of Jennifer and Stephen Rawlinson and passed it across to him. "This was taken on the same day that I was convicted. I think that a celebration was happening. I believe that the two of them are living together. It doesn't take much to reach the conclusion that the two of them were in some way responsible for my conviction." "I would have to agree with you. What made you start to look down this path?" "When I read the transcript I couldn't help wondering why Rawlinson kept on repeating the phrase; 'Motive, means and opportunity equals guilt. Mr Cowley had the motivation, the legal proceedings, the means, his car, and the opportunity, he knew that the victim would be at the scene at that time, and that equals guilt in this case.' This got me looking at the actual evidence that was produced, they had fuck all." "When we spoke yesterday I said that I would look at what you had and then make a decision whether I would take the case. I will take your case. Tell me, what was your wife's maiden name?" "Mitchell." "And her father wouldn't by any chance be Morris Mitchell QC?" "The very same." "I am going to enjoy this. That man is so far up himself that when he smiles there's shit on his teeth." "I gather that you don't like the man?" "Who does, apart from himself and that little toady Rawlinson?" "Do you mind if I make a quick phone call? I promised someone that I would let her know the outcome of this meeting." "This someone wouldn't happen to be a young woman would it?" "Yes, a very special young woman." I'd already hit speed dial 1. "Hi Darling, guess what? We have us a Barrister." Browning could hear the squeal of delight from Natalie, along with the promise of a celebration this evening. "How many years have you known this person?" "I met her when I was walking down the road from the prison to the bus stop." "That long? You haven't let any grass grow under your feet have you? Don't get me wrong, I'm not questioning the speed at which this has happened, I think that it's great that you were able to quickly move your focus from revenge to your future happiness, and still keep on track for redemption. Our first step is to put in an application for a mis-trial and a pardon based on new evidence and a review of the original trial proceedings. That should stir the pot a little." "What do you want me to do?" What I would like you to do is to put all of this into some sort of cohesive order. This will not only help me, but if your work is good enough, I might just be able to give you a job. I would like to have a Criminologist who can sift through police evidence and précis it. This will save me so much time." "I can't thank you enough for firstly, taking the time to see me, and taking my case. This offer is the icing on the cake. I won't let you down." "I know, of all the salesmen at that dealership, you were the one that gave me a straight deal and no bullshit. I don't buy my cars there anymore." It was some celebration that night. Not only did I have a Barrister onside, but if my research and report were good enough, I could have a great job as a result. After the celebration dinner at a top restaurant, we adjourned to Natalie's bed and gave the mattress a pounding for a couple of hours before the adrenaline wore off and sleep took over. Friday to Monday was something else again. I had taken my report to Browning on Friday afternoon and left his office with an offer of employment at a salary that I could never get flogging cars. The new celebrations went on over the entire weekend, broken only by mandatory pit stops and sleep. A month later I found myself back in court. "Mr Browning, I have before me an application to have the verdict in the trial Of Thomas Cowley, convicted of causing death by dangerous driving, overturned and a mistrial declared. And you have made an application that this court instruct the Governor of this state to grant a pardon to Mr Cowley, and that this court make a recommendation to the government in regards to compensation to Mr Cowley for wrongful imprisonment, loss of revenue and the damage that all of this has caused his reputation. I hope that you have something of significance to support these applications. I do not like having my time taken up with frivolous matters." "Your honour, we have a great deal of evidentiary material to present in support of our case, and several witnesses to call to give evidence on the conduct of the original trial. There is evidence of a deliberate withholding of evidence that would have cleared my client, by the Crown. This is all provable and conclusive." "Mr Williamson, you represent the Crown in this matter, what say you, is there a case to answer?" "Your Honour, I have spoken to the Crown Prosecutor in this case and the Investigating Officer, and they have assured me that the case was presented without bias or ambiguity and that Mr Cowley received a fair trial." "Mr Browning I will hear your opening remarks before deciding whether to proceed." "Thank you Your Honour. My client came to me recently, following his release from prison, with evidence that, he said, proved that he had been wrongfully convicted of the charge for which he was incarcerated. I looked closely at this evidence as well as evidence gained since his release, and came to the conclusion that he has a case for a mis-trial. Part of his research was into the conduct of the case and the presentation of the evidence by the Crown. Since his release he has been able to obtain evidence that the Crown had withheld vital evidence. I will be calling witnesses who will verify the findings of Mr Cowley's research. Evidence of collusion by various persons involved in the Crown case, collusion to pervert the course of justice and deny my client his freedom for five years." "Very well, you may proceed." "For my first witness I call Dr Henry Thomas." Dr Thomas was sworn in and took the stand. "Doctor Thomas, you were the Forensic Pathologist that examined the body of the deceased, is this correct?" "Yes." Thomas was clearly uncomfortable. "When you were giving your evidence, did you at any time make mention of the amount of blood drained from the deceased's body post mortem?" "No." "And why would that be?" "Because I wasn't asked that question." "But don't you think that you should have at the very least, volunteered that important piece of evidence?" "Yes, I tried to, but was told to only answer the questions asked." He was even less comfortable. "And why would that be? Was it because you were under instruction not to mention it? Was it because you were instructed to give evidence only on the report tendered in evidence and to offer no other opinion?" "Yes, I mean no." "Doctor Thomas, I have here your written report that you submitted to the investigating officer to be typed up. In this report it states that the amount of blood drained from the body was inconsistent with the scenario put forward by the investigating officer, and that, given the small amount of blood evident at the scene of the incident, it was most likely that the victim was killed elsewhere, and that his still warm body was pushed into the path of my client's car. Do you still agree with that summary?" "Yes." "That will be all, thank you." "Mister Rawlinson, you were the Crown Prosecutor at the trial of my client." "Yes." "Did you or did you not claim that motive, means and opportunity equalled guilt?" "I do not recall having made that statement." "I draw your attention to the transcript of that trial. This shows that you not only mentioned it during the evidence given by the investigating officer, but emphasised it not once, but five times in your closing argument. In addition," Browning paused for affect. "Did you or did you not ask my client the closed question, and I quote from the trial transcript; 'Mister Cowley, not only did you have the motive to kill the deceased, but you had the means to carry out that murder, and the opportunity, did you not?' My client had no option but to answer in the affirmative, but when he attempted to expand on his answer, to explain to the court that he did not murder the victim, you cut him short. You gave him no opportunity to explain that he had already acknowledged that he was involved in litigation against the victim, and that he was driving the vehicle that collided with the victim, and that he was aware that it was the victim's habit to be at that place at that time and to cross the road, because he was told that he would be there. These events were circumstantial at best, but my client was denied the opportunity to explain that point. Would that not be a fair assumption?" "I was presenting. . . ." "Just answer the question Mister Rawlinson, yes or no?" "If you'd let me explain." "Why should I do that? You didn't allow my client that opportunity, did you? Now would you please answer the question?" Rawlinson remained silent. "I'll answer it for you. You had realise that the evidence against my client was so flimsy that you had to resort to courtroom skulduggery to convince the jury that you had a case, when you had nothing of the sort. And why would that be Mister Rawlinson? Were you instructed to do this by a senior officer of the police force?" "Before I answer that question, I ask for leave to seek legal opinion from a senior lawyer in the Attorney General's office." "If I may your Honour, I have several more questions of this witness, if I could just ask these I see no need for him to answer the previous question." "Very well, you may proceed." "Now Mister Rawlinson, what is your relationship with the former Mrs Cowley?" "There is no relationship, I know her, I know her family." "So it is not true that you and she are cohabitating, and have been for the past four years?" "No, that is not true. I do, from time to time visit her on business matters, and I have, on occasions, accepted her offer to have me stay over-night, but there is no relationship." "I will give you the opportunity to re-think your answer before I call witnesses who will verify that you not only reside in the former Cowley matrimonial home, but you have joint bank accounts with Jennifer Mitchell, the former Jennifer Cowley, own joint property with her, property that she acquired as a result of her divorce settlement while my client was incarcerated. Now, would you like to change your answer?" "Very well. Yes I am in a relationship with her." "And just when did that relationship begin, before or after my client was convicted of causing death by dangerous driving and sentenced to serve five years in gaol?" "Before." "And did you know the deceased in that case, Mr Lionel Timms? I would think carefully before answering that question." "Yes I knew him." "In what context did you know him?" "He was blackmailing Mrs Cowley. He had evidence of our relationship and threatened to expose us to Mr Cowley. Mr Cowley was told that he had been making unspecified threats against both of them, and encouraged to take out a restraining order to prevent him from approaching within five kilometres of both himself and his wife. That was the legal proceedings mentioned in the trial." "Whose idea was it to murder Mr Timms and set it up so that Mr Cowley should get the blame? Was it your idea? Was it hers? Or was it the idea of her father Mr Morris Mitchell QC, my client's Father-in-Law?" "It was his. He said that he could fix it so that the evidence was slanted in such a way as to convict Mr Cowley. It was him that had the forensic report changed, it was him that set out the strategy that I was to follow in that trial. He never liked Mr Cowley, he said it was because Mr Cowley was not the right kind of person to be married to his daughter. He was a car salesman, and thus beneath contempt. Those were his words not mine." "Who did the actual killing, was it you?" "No, he found someone to do it for him, a policeman who owed him a favour." "Would that policeman have been Detective Sergeant Browne, the investigating officer in that case, who just happened to have been in the vicinity of the incident and was the first respondent to the scene. He investigated the matter, even though it would normally have been a Traffic Branch matter in the first instant." "I don't know, I wasn't given a name." "Very good. I thank you for your co-operation." The next witness was Detective Sergeant Browne. "Sergeant, we have just heard the testimony of Mr Rawlinson, the prosecuting counsel in the trial of Thomas Cowley over the death of Lionel Timms, in which he has informed this court that Mr Timms was in fact deceased before being hit by Mr Cowley's car. In the course of our investigation into this trial we have established that you were the first respondent to the call regarding what was described over the police radio as an accident. Throughout the investigation and the trial you maintained that Mr Timms had been run down as he crossed the road, and that the fault was entirely with Mr Cowley, would that be correct?" "Yes, that is what my preliminary investigation indicated." "Even though the forensic examination concluded otherwise, that given the small amount of blood at the scene and the small amount removed from the body post mortem, that it was not possible for him to have been alive at that time that he was struck by Mr Cowley's car. You remained steadfast in your assessment of the situation, why was that Sergeant Browne?" "It was a result of my examination at the scene." "Are you qualified to make forensic examinations? Or were you working under instructions, instructions designed to divert attention away from the real cause of the victim's death? I would be very careful how I answer this question if I were you." "I was following orders." "Orders from whom?" "A senior police officer." "Do you have a name for this officer? Again I must warn you to think carefully before you answer. Our investigations have revealed who issued that order, and if you refuse to answer, you could be charged with perverting the course of justice. Now, for the record, who was that officer?" "It was Deputy Commissioner Rowlands. He told me to position myself at a location close to the scene and make sure that I was the first respondent. I was then to ensure that the investigation followed a particular course." "Thank you for confirming the results of our investigation." The judge intervened. "I think it appropriate, in the light of these revelations, that this court should adjourn while I review them. It is now eleven o'clock, this court will resume at two pm." "What do you think's going to happen?" I asked Browning. "I think, and I hope that I'm wrong here, that his Honour will make a phone call to the Honourable Morris Mitchell QC and advise him to take his daughter, and jump on the first available flight out of the country. He will also advise them that they should not return for some time, at least until some loose ends are securely tied up." "So what can we do to prevent this happening?" "I will make my own phone call alerting the ICAC (Independent Commission Against Corruption) of the possibility of them fleeing from prosecution, as well as who would have tipped them off." A Time Well Spent "How will this affect my application for a pardon?" "My theory is that he will cover his arse by ordering a mis-trial and recommending that the Governor issue you with a pardon and that you should be adequately compensated for your time in gaol as well as the damage to your reputation. You stand to become a wealthy man out of this. Now, where are you taking me to lunch?" "I have plans to meet Natalie, you're welcome to join us, I'm sure she won't mind." Natalie didn't mind at all. "Robert, we have to thank you for all of your efforts, we don't know what we would have done without you." She said, after sitting through a blow by blow account of the morning's proceedings. "First things first, I do not like being called Robert, Rob is my name of choice. The last thing I want is to be likened to some jumped up poet. Secondly, it's Tom who's responsible for all of this. If he hadn't decided to put his time inside to good use, by studying the aspects of the original trial that bothered him, he would not have discovered the key to this whole fiasco. It all came down to the change in attitude by Morris Mitchell, the last time that he had dealings with him over a car purchase. Gone was the friendly, good natured exchange between them, it was replaced by a distancing himself from Tom." "I got the impression that, if he hadn't paid a deposit, he would have cancelled the order. I was having suspicions about Jennifer's fidelity, but couldn't prove anything. His change in attitude confirmed my worst thoughts, and I had thought of getting someone to investigate it, but didn't have time. Then there was this alleged harassment, and the insistence on my taking out an intervention order. It was all just to establish a reason for me to harm him. I detected the devious hands of someone well versed in the legal niceties around police investigations and evidence, but was unable to do anything about it at the time. My solicitor was hamstrung at every turn because no-one was deviating from the script. If he hadn't been able to sow the seeds of doubt about premeditation, I would have gone down for murder." "So what happens now?" Natalie asked. "I think that his Honour will issue a recommendation to the Governor for a full pardon for Tom. He will also make a ruling in regards to compensation. He may, to deflect attention from himself, forward trial transcripts to ICAC and the DPP (Director of Public Prosecutions) for consideration, with a view to charges being laid. He is due for retirement so don't be surprised if he announces his intention to retire shortly." Natalie took out her phone and called her office. "Hi, can you check my schedule for this afternoon and see if there's anything that can't be re-scheduled?" There was pause for a few minutes while her schedule was checked. "I don't want to miss this afternoon for anything. If it happens the way that you think it will." She said to Rob to fill in that time. "I think the three of us should go somewhere posh to celebrate." She took her hand from where it covered her phone. "Hi, you've covered for me this afternoon, thanks, I owe you one. Yes it involves Tom, and no, he hasn't asked me to marry him, yet. Gotta go, 'bye." I leant over and kissed her. "I will, and soon, this afternoon maybe." "All right you two, break it up, we have court to attend." It was a tense few minutes, from the time that the court resumed session, until his Honour turned his gaze to the body of the court. "I have considered the evidence presented by Mr Browning on behalf of his client Mr Thomas Cowley, in his application to have his original trial declared a mistrial, and the issue of a full pardon. As a result, I am going to issue the following judgements. Firstly, that there were sufficient deficiencies in the police investigation and the subsequent prosecution of Mr Cowley for me to order a mistrial. Mr Browning has offered sufficient and compelling evidence of a serious mis-carriage of justice for me to recommend to the Governor that he issue a full Pardon to Mr Cowley. Secondly, I am going to forward, not only transcripts of this trial, but those of the original trial, to both the DPP and ICAC with a view to the prosecution of several parties for their roles in the perversion of the course of justice. Off the record, I must congratulate Mr Cowley for using the time, that he unfortunately spent in gaol, to good use in not only establishing his innocence of the charges for which he was incarcerated, but the guilt of the several parties involved in that prosecution. I hope that he continues to put the knowledge gained to good use in the future. That will be all. Court adjourned." Natalie threw caution to the wind and her arms round my neck. Her lips crushed mine and I could feel her happiness flowing from her to me. I was vindicated, I was no longer a convicted felon. "Ahem, when you two have finished making a spectacle of yourselves, didn't someone mention a celebration?" "Yeah," Natalie said, "Let's get the hell out of this place, and find somewhere quiet and celebrate my man's victory." Our elation was in complete contrast to the mood shown by both Rawlinson and Sergeant Browne. They both arrived at the realisation that the world as they knew it had come to an end, and that their careers would, in all probability, not survive today's outcome. Rawlinson was on his phone trying to reach Jennifer who was not answering, and for good reason. The phone call from her father had galvanised her into action. He had arranged for seats on a flight leaving in two hours for Kuala Lumpar and on to Europe. She was throwing clothes into a small case, along with her passport and as much money as she could lay her hands on at short notice. A car was on its way to collect her. Both Rawlinson and Browne had returned to their respective offices, making sure not to appear as if they were panicking. They needed to destroy as much of the files as they could, before quietly slipping out of town. They had discussed the timeline before they left the court, both agreeing that they had, at the very least, twenty-four hours. They were wrong. Both the DPP and ICAC had been sent emails containing the transcripts along with a note stating that those involved would make an attempt to flee the country. Natalie and I sat in her living room watching as the news intro flashed onto the screen. We had discussed our case with Rob and decided that it might rate a mention somewhere around item four or five. You can imagine our surprise when it appeared as the lead item. "Police this afternoon arrested noted Barrister Morris Mitchell QC and his daughter Jennifer as they attempted to board a Malaysian Airlines flight to Kuala Lumpar. Police were acting on information that resulted from a court hearing claiming that the trial of Thomas Cowley over the death of Lionel Timms five years ago was a mis-carriage of justice. The court case revealed that the evidence put to that trial was corrupted, and that the conviction should be overturned, that it be declared a mistrial and the conviction quashed. It also asked for a pardon for Mr Cowley." "As a result of this trial, the transcripts were sent to both the DPP and ICAC for their investigation. Acting on a tip-off, police were waiting to intercept Mr Mitchell and his daughter Jennifer, Mr Cowley's former wife, over their involvement in perverting the course of justice in that original trial. Also arrested were the investigating officer in that case, Detective Sergeant Browne, and the prosecuting counsel Stephen Rawlinson. All have been remanded in custody pending a hearing tomorrow." "Also under investigation is the judge in this most recent trial, Justice Warren Morse. Un-named sources have revealed that it was he that warned Mr Mitchell that he was about to be arrested, and advising him to flee the country." "Rob." Natalie and I said simultaneously. "Mr Cowley's lawyer, Mr Robert Browning, when asked to comment this afternoon, stated that his client was pleased with the outcome of today's hearing and would take some time to absorb the ramifications of this trial. He will most likely be seeking compensation for time spent in gaol as a result of the initial conviction, as well as damage to his reputation. No further comment would be made until I, and my client, have discussed his next step." "I know what my next step will be. Natalie, will you marry me?" I looked deep into her eyes with as pleading a look as I could muster. "I'll have to think . . . of course I will." The news went on in the background as we eventually untangled ourselves and walked to her, our, bedroom to celebrate today, our commitment to each other, and the rest of our lives.