HPre2203 Lorenzo's Reward Catherine George CHAPTER ONE THE crowded pub was hot, smoke-filled, and full of men in suits talking business over lunch. Jess eyed her watch impatiently, willing Simon to hurry, then looked up to find a complete stranger watching her intently from the far end of the bar. Jess felt an odd plummeting sensation in the pit of her stomach when dark, heavy-lidded eyes lit with incredulous recognition as they met hers. She glanced over her shoulder, sure he must be looking at some other woman, but there was no other female in sight. Jess looked back again, which was a mistake. This time she couldn't look away. Heat rose in her face. Irritably she ordered herself to stop sitting there like a hypnotised rabbit, her pulse suddenly erratic as the man put down his drink and with purpose began to push his way through the crowd towards her. But before he could reach her two other men joined him, barring his way. The stranger shrugged expressively, signalling regret, and Jess finally broke eye contact. Then it dawned on her that one of his companions was Mr Jeremy Lonsdale, unrec- ognisable for a moment minus his barristers wig and gown. But when the third member of the trio turned his head she gasped in utter consternation. He was all too familiar, with eyes which blazed in incredulous affront when Jess panicked at the sight of him, spun around and fled from the pub, with Simon Hollister, her astonished lunch companion, in hot pursuit. Jess dodged through honking traffic, and ran like a deer up the road to the courthouse, to subject herself to the usual security process inside. She was still gasping for breath when Simon caught up with her in the jury res- taurant. �.'� "What the hell was all that about?" he panted. "Prosecuting�Counsel�was there. With chums." Jess heaved in a lungful of air. "One of them was Roberto Forii, my sister's ex-boyfriend," she finished in a rush. Simon whistled. "And we jurors are forbidden con- nection to anyone at all on the case." "Exactlyl" "How well do you know the man?" "I've only met him once." "Did Lonsdale see you?" "I don't think so. He had his back to me." Simon smiled reassuringly. "Then it's probably all right Anyway, we'll soon know if your friend grassed on you. Let's grab something to eat before we're called. I left our lunch on the bar when you took off." But after her mad dash in the midday heat Jess couldn't face the thought of food. Her mind was too full of the unexpected meeting with Roberto Forli. And with the stranger in his company. The memory of those dark, in- tent eyes sent shivers down her spine. The man had ob- viously recognised her from somewhere. But where? And when? Jess forced herself back to the present with an effort, and gulped down the rest of her mineral water as the jury was called back into the court. As she took her seat in the jury box Jess buttoned her jacket against the cold of the courtroom, which was arctic compared with the summer day outside. According to bus driver Phil, the comedian in their group, the courtroom was kept cool to keep the jury awake during the longer discourses, and at the same time prevent heatstroke for the judge and barristers in their archaic horsehair wigs and black gowns. While they waited for the judge Jess firmly blanked the lunchtime incident from her mind by thinking back over her two weeks of jury service. She was glad, now, of the experience, but the first day had been daunting. After waiting in line to pass through an airport-style metal detector she had been directed to the jury restau- rant, an airport-style cafeteria packed with people queu- ing for coffee, reading newspapers, or just sitting staring into space if they'd managed to find a chair. Later, in an empty courtroom with the other newcomers, she had watched a video which set out the rules, but a wait of two days had elapsed before she was called into service. The clerk of the court had shuffled cards and read out names as usual, but this time Jessamy Dysart was among the chosen. She had been led off to a courtroom, and with eleven of her peers sworn in as a member of the jury. At first glance the dark wood and leather of the courtroom, though impressive enough, had seemed a lot smaller than on television. Jess had been rather discon- certed to find herself at such close quarters not only with the prisoner in the dock, but with the barristers and so- licitors facing the judge in the well of the court. Now there was only another day of a different trial to go, with a different batch of jurors. This time Jess was seated in the front of the jury box next to Simon Hollister. He had made a beeline for her from the first day, and frankly admitted that his original intention had been to avoid jury duty by pleading pressure of work in his mar- keting job in the City. But once actually there in the courthouse an unexpected sense of civic duty had made him stay. "Added to the prospect of a fortnight coming into close contact with you, Jess," he'd added, with a grin. Jess had taken this with a pinch of salt. Simon was a charmer, and she liked him, but she also liked Edward, - the ex-headmaster, and June, the office cleaner, and most of her fellow jurors. However, she longed for this partic- ular trial to be over. The young woman in the dock. Pros- ecuting Counsel alleged, had knowingly smuggled drugs into the country in her luggage. Like Jess she was in her mid-twenties, but with eyes dark-ringed in a pale, strained face, and from the evidence there seemed little doubt that she was guilty. Previously Jess had preferred to eat a sandwich lunch in the jury restaurant with the others. But today she had given in to Simon's coaxing, glad to escape from the memory of the defendant's hopeless eyes. Now Jess wished she'd stayed put as usual. The fascinating stranger's interest had intrigued her, and in other circum- stances she would have liked to meet him. But not when he came as one of a package with Roberto Forii and Prosecuting Counsel. Jess waited in trepidation as the afternoon session be- gan, fully expecting the judge to stop the proceedings. But to her vast relief everything went on as usual, and instead of pointing a dramatic finger at her Mr Jeremy Lonsdale merely got to his feet to make his closing speech for the prosecution. When the barrister sat down at last Simon gave a discreet thumbs-up sign. Afterwards Defence Counsel's speech proved to be mainly a criti- cism of Prosecution's case, with interminable reminders to the jury about burden of proof and miscarriages of justice. Long before he finished Jess bitterly regretted the reckless volume of water downed before coming into court. Hot with embarrassment, she was forced to raise a hand at last when the banister paused for breath. With the judge's permission the usher escorted all members of the jury from the box to lock them in the jury room where eleven of them waited while Jess, crimson-faced, retired to their private cloakroom. Afterwards they all filed back into the court again to hear Defence Counsel come to a conclusion. When he achieved this at long last the judge ruled that it was time to finish for the day. He would leave his summing up for the morning. "Not to worry, love," whispered June afterwards. "Don't be embarrassed. Nature calls everyone�even the judge." The June sunshine was warm as Jess drove home through rush hour. Moving from one set of traffic lights to the next in slow progression, she was so preoccupied with the thoughts of the fascinating stranger she almost shot a red light at one point, and glued her attention to the traffic afterwards instead. The hot, crowded city streets filled Jess with sudden longing for Friars Wood, the cool house perched on the cliffs overlooking the Wye Valley, and the meal her mother would be concocting for the family at that very moment. Just one more day to go, she consoled herself, then she could go home for a break. Jess managed to park near her flat in Bayswater, then trudged along the terrace of tall white houses, glad to get back to a home far more peaceful these days, since Fiona Todd had moved out to live with her man. Jess and her remaining flatmate, Emily Shaw, were now the only ten- ants, an arrangement which worked very amicably. When Jess got in Emily was lying on the sofa, watch- ing television. "Hi," she said, turning the set off. "My word, you look done in. What's up?" Jess groaned. "Have I had a fraught day!" "Is it desperately hush-hush, or are you allowed to tell me?" "This bit I can! I ran into Roberto Forii in a pub at lunchtime." Emily's big eyes widened. "Really? Your sister's ex from Florence? What's he doing here in London?" "No idea. Whatever it was I wish he'd been doing it somewhere else," said Jess irritably. "Why?" said Emily, astonished. "It's a long story." "But jolly interesting, by the sound of it" Jess took a deep breath. "Simon Hollister, the mar- keting bloke on the jury with me, asked me out for a swift lunch. By sheer bad luck we hit on the same pub as Prosecuting Counsel." "No!" Jess described the incident with Roberto Forii to her riveted friend. But, for reasons she wasn't quite sure of, made no mention of the stranger. "We're forbidden con- tact with anyone connected to the court, of course, so when I saw Roberto all chummy with Prosecuting Counsel I shot out of the pub like greased lightning and did a runner back to the courthouse." "Did Roberto see you?" "You bet he did." Jess collapsed into a chair, grateful for the fruit juice her friend handed over. "Wonderful. I needed this. Thank goodness you were home early to- day." Emily Shaw worked for an executive in a credit card company, ...
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