Page 121 (1/2)

‘Scra that isn’t out of a packet, and perhaps I’ll allow myself a sliver of smoked sal hot coffee with milk that isn’t powdered,’ responded Arthur

‘And after breakfast?’

‘I shall take a long walk in the park before going shopping I’ll need a new suit if I’’

‘Why not take a break before going back to work,’ suggested Sir Julian ‘Go on holiday’

‘Absolutely not,’ said Arthur firmly ‘I’ve already had a three-year break No, I intend to return to the office as soon as possible’

‘Could you bear to put it off for one more day, Dad?’ asked Beth ‘You and Mum have been invited to the Fitz of the Rembrandt, and I expect every one of you to be present for my moment of triumph’

‘Your moment of triumph?’ said William

Everyone laughed except Arthur, who had fallen asleep again

Court nu before ten in the forenoon, and, like a theatre audience, they chatted a themselves as they waited for the curtain to rise

Commander Hawksby, DCI Lamont, DS Roycroft and DC Warere seated a couple of rows behind Mr Adrian Pal counsel

Mr Booth Watson QC and his instructing solicitor, Mr Mishcon, sat at the other end of the bench, discussing the coverage their client had received in the national press that reed that it couldn’t have been much better

Miles Faulkner standing next to Christ adorned several front pages, along with the words Booth Watson had written and his client had repeated verbati, not unlike losing an only child, but one to a better home than the Fitzmolean’

The press benches along one side of the courtroom were so crowded that several old ti behind their less illustrious colleagues Once the sentence was delivered, they would race to the nearest available telephone and report the judge’s decision to the duty editor

The Evening Standard would be the first on the street, and it already had its front page headline set in type: ‘Faulkner sent down for X years’ Only the number needed to be filled in The criht before, and a sub-editor would decide which one would go to press

Fro, a queue of the siun to form outside the public entrance of the Royal Courts of Justice, and withinthe door, every seat in the gallery had been taken All of those present knew the curtain would rise as ten o’clock struck on the south-west tower of St Paul’s Not that any of those cloistered in the court would be able to hear the cathedral chimes