An Affair With Danger

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

One year later. July 2006

AN ICY wind whipped around me as I stood sipping my coffee outside the front entrance of the Downing Centre District Court. Barristers hurried past me, gowns flapping and bewigged heads bent against the wind. Solicitors with briefcases and harried-looking clerks trotted after them.

A TV camera crew was setting up nearby. I wondered who the celebrity criminal was. I doubted it was Edward Gisbourne, arrested for the hold-up two weeks afterwards and held in custody since then. Armed robbers were a dime a dozen.

I downed the rest of my coffee in one gulp, trying to drown the niggle of apprehension in my gut. I had appeared in court on numerous occasions before, but in the Federal Court on behalf of clients. Never in the District Court or in the witness box.

Court was due to start in 15 minutes. I threw my coffee cup in a nearby bin and was just about to go in when I heard, ‘Will!’

Mike was ambling towards me. We’d only been acquaintances before the robbery; but we’d kept in touch in the 12 months since, having the occasional drink together. Bonded by our one common experience. He looked as if he’d slept in his shirt and his suit had obviously fitted him better when he was ten kilos lighter.

‘Bastard of a day,’ he said.

He reeked of stale alcohol. This was the third time he’d been the victim of a hold-up, and he’d finally accepted that working in convenience stores was not conducive to his well-being. He’d left his job and was on the dole.

‘It’ll be warm in the courtroom,’ I said. ‘Are you ready to dazzle them with your brilliant powers of observation?’

Mike grinned. ‘I’ve been watching reruns of “Law and Order” and I know all the tricks of the trade now for outwitting the defence. Failing that, I can always break down and cry.’

‘Good idea; I’ll keep that in mind. Two grown men blubbering in the witness box should be enough to sway the jury.’

‘We’re not supposed to discussing the case,’ I said in a low voice as we entered the courthouse. ‘So it’s best that we’re not seen together, so we can’t be accused of it.’

‘My lips are sealed.’ Mike said. We went through Security and took the lift to the fourth floor. We took our seats round the corner from courtroom two, sitting at opposite ends of the row. Our instructions were to wait there until we were called in. Despite the constant stream of people coming and going, the atmosphere was subdued, as befitted the higher status of the District Court.

The prosecutor Alex Coleby poked his head out of courtroom two, saw us sitting there and hurried over. We’d met him a couple of weeks ago at a witness briefing, to run through our evidence and give us an idea what to expect in court. He was thin and bespectacled with an intense manner, and I could well imagine him being the nerdy kid in his class at school.

He beckoned Mike over. ‘I’ve just been advised by the defence that Gisbourne has changed his plea to guilty.’

‘You’re joking!’ Mike said. ‘The bastard decided to see sense for a change.’

‘There’s no altruistic motive, I can assure you,’ Alex said. ‘The evidence is against him and he’s probably realised it and wants a discount on his sentence. Anyway, the upshot is that we don’t need you, so you can go home.’

‘Awesome!’ Mike said. ‘I’m off. Are you coming?’ he asked me.

I had a pretty good idea where he was going. I had no desire to go to the pub at 9.45 in the morning.

I shook my head. ‘I’m going to hang around. I want to watch him get what’s coming to him.’ I’d cleared my work calendar for the week in preparation for giving evidence, so I had no commitments.

Mike shrugged. ‘If I never lay eyes on his ugly mug again, it will be too soon. See ya.’

I watched him as he shuffled off, feeling a pang of pity. And helplessness. Part of the reason I’d kept in touch was out of concern for his well-being. He’d refused all offers of counselling, claiming he just needed time. But meanwhile, he was drowning in alcohol. I’d had a few disturbed nights, and I hadn’t gone into that 7-Eleven store since the robbery; but overall, I was coping fine.

Alex got up and nodded towards the courtroom. ‘Come on in.’

I followed him into the courtroom and took a seat in the second front row near the aisle. The atmosphere was rarified and solemn, more like a church. Well, law was a religion to some. The court was about half full. I glanced casually around, wondering who the others were. Friends or relatives of the accused? Or maybe just members of the public who got a kick out of watching court cases.

I was glad that neither my brother Nick nor my sister Stephanie had accompanied me for moral support, as they’d both wanted to do. I preferred to be here on my own. Nick, an international human rights lawyer, had to fly out to a case in Egypt; but I was sure he’d only offered to come to see how many people he could impress with his credentials. Steph, who’d gone back to University to study exercise physiology after years as a physical education teacher, was in the middle of exams. My parents, though they were concerned at the time of the hold-up, still managed to convey the impression that somehow it was my fault, that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Alex was in earnest conversation with the defence counsel, a man who must surely have been in his thirties but with his fresh, baby-faced complexion and startlingly blue eyes, looked barely out of high school. In his wig and gown, he looked like a teenager playing dress-ups. If he lacked experience, he had youth and ambition on his side; and he’d be keen to make his mark.

The door to the dock opened and Gisbourne entered, escorted by two police officers. It was the first time I’d seen him in the flesh since the robbery. He was taller than I remembered and broader, but it was all muscle. He wore a suit and had the sort of rough-cut look that women find attractive.

There’ll be no women where you’re going, mate. But he’d been in jail on remand for the last 12 months and he didn’t look as if he’d suffered.

I was surprised by the heat of anger that surged inside me; I thought I’d put the robbery behind me. I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, preferably with my fists. He sat down and I stared at him, willing him to look at me. He glanced around the courtroom, not meeting my gaze, as if he were looking for someone. His face settled into a scowl.

‘All stand,’ the bailiff called out. The judge entered the room and took her position at the bench. A pinch-faced woman with glasses and grey hair swept under a wig. According to the nameplate in front of her, she was Judge Delaney.

The bailiff declared the court open. Alex and the defence counsel, David Levenson, announced their appearances before the judge said, ‘I believe you have some information for the court, Mr Levenson.’

‘Yes, Your Honour. I have had instructions from my client this morning that he wishes to plead guilty.’

The judge glanced over at Gisbourne, still looking sulky. ‘Thank you, Mr Levenson.’

She nodded to Alex, who stood up and said, ‘There is an indictment before the court of two charges – one count each of armed robbery and stealing a motor vehicle. I tender it for your perusal.’

Alex handed the indictment to the judge’s associate, a young female, who passed it up to her. She perused it thoroughly then handed it back to her associate. ‘Please arraign the defendant.’

After a gesture from Levenson, Gisbourne stood up. The associate read the charge in a loud, clear voice. ‘Edward Robert Gisbourne, you are charged that at 9.55 pm on the 5th of June 2005, you entered the 7-Eleven convenience store at 7 Makerston Street, Manly armed with a gun and committed an offence of armed robbery, stealing the approximate sum of $750. How do you plead?

‘Guilty.’

I heard the whish of the courtroom door opening. Gisbourne looked over and his expression changed instantly into a wide grin. I looked around.

A woman had entered. Tall, a mass of wild reddish-auburn hair that appeared to be exploding from her head. Startling red lips, too much eye make-up. She sashayed down the aisle on her high heels, her jeans and purple breast-hugging top under a denim jacket clinging to her as if they’d been painted on. Skinny except in the chest department.

It seemed as if the whole courtroom was holding its breath watching her. She stared straight ahead with an expression that said, ‘I know you’re all watching me and I don’t give a damn.’

She stopped at my row. ‘Excuse me.’

I drew my legs in. As she brushed past me, I caught a whiff of her perfume. Musky. She sat at the opposite end of the row near the wall, dumping her bright pink handbag on the floor and crossing her legs. Shiny crimson toenails peeked out from her open-toed sandals. Gisbourne mouthed, ‘love you,’ to her and she blew him a kiss back.

‘Edward Robert Gisbourne, you are charged that at...’ The judge’s associate read the second charge. Judge Delaney stared at the new arrival with knitted brow and tight lips; but she was looking at her boyfriend, oblivious or uncaring. I guessed the latter.

How many times had she sat in a courtroom looking at him in the dock? I had no knowledge of Gisbourne’s history but I was pretty sure this wasn’t his first offence. He had the demeanour of a career criminal. What sort of a woman would knowingly hang around with an armed robber? One who had form herself, obviously. Surely no law-abiding woman would choose to be in a relationship with him.

After Gisbourne had pleaded guilty, the judge looked over the top of her glasses at Alex. ‘Mr Coleby, do you require an adjournment so that you and Mr Levenson can prepare the facts for sentence?’

Alex stood up. ‘Yes, Your Honour, a month will be adequate.’

‘Sentencing is adjourned for a month on a date to be fixed. Is there an application for bail, Mr Levenson?’

‘No, Your Honour.’

We all stood, the judge swept out and the bailiff declared the court closed.

As the police officers escorted Gisbourne out of the dock, he mouthed, ‘love you,’ again to his girlfriend before disappearing. I couldn’t help glancing across at her to see her reaction. She grinned at him and waved. Then, catching my eye, her expression changed instantly, its meaning clear. What’s it to you? I quickly looked away.

As we filed out of the courtroom, she brushed past me and squeezed into the lift just as the door was closing. I took the next lift; and as I exited the courthouse, I spotted her trotting along the sidewalk. I watched the provocative sway of her hips and arse, wondering if she always walked like that, or if it was just the heels.

The wind had died down but the coldness hung in the air like a thick blanket. She fumbled in her bag, took out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter and lit a cigarette, not missing a stride.