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Fraser, you’ll have to excuse me but I’m rather busy at the moment.’
    ‘That’s all right,’ Fraser replied with a flicker of a smile. He nodded in the direction of the milling journalists. ‘So are they, it seems. And they’re frustrated too, now Conroy’s being whisked away. Anyway, I’d like a word with you, Mr Ward, at your convenience.’
    ‘The best thing would be to make an appointment with my secretary,’ Eric replied hurriedly. Conroy was out of the dock, hustled along by police officers eager to remove the source of the bustling confusion. Sharon had vanished but Eric knew he would find her in the holding room outside the court. He nodded to Fraser, who stepped aside politely, and pushed his way past the throng, entered the robing room and then made his way along the corridor, guessing where Raymond Conroy would be taken.
    Sharon Owen was already there in a private room barred to the public. When Eric entered the room Raymond Conroy was seated, staring out of the window at the Quayside, seemingly at ease, though Eric noted the pulse beating excitedly in his temple. Conroy turned his head as Eric entered, and Sharon broke away from the conversation she had been carrying on with the two police officers in plainclothes who had ushered Conroy from the courtroom and the baying pack of journalists. When Conroy saw Eric he gave a thin smile and raised a hand in welcome. He turned his head, addressing the police officers in a confident tone.
    ‘There, gentlemen, I can assure you all will now be well, since my indefatigable solicitor has arrived. With all due deference to you, of course, Miss Owen.’
    ‘What’s happening?’ Eric asked as he closed the door behind him.
    Raymond Conroy waved a casual, dismissive hand. ‘These two gentlemen suggest it might be as well if they stayed close, to escort me from the premises. It seems there is a back entrance and a police car waiting to whisk me away from any unpleasantness that might be occurring outside on the Quayside and around Wesley Square.’
    One of the policemen glanced at Eric. He seemed irritated by Conroy’s attitude, angry at the man’s calmness, perhaps affected by the result of the hearing. He would not be alone, Eric considered. One of the policemen muttered bitterly, ‘There’s a demonstration expected outside. We don’t want any trouble. It would be best if Mr Conroy came with us.’
    Raymond Conroy smiled coolly. ‘And I’ve been explaining that since I’ve been in the gentle custody of the upholders of the law for so many months now, I have no desire to continue to impinge upon their hospitality longer. Now that it is no longer forced upon me.’
    ‘I’m inclined to agree with these officers,’ Eric replied, a little nettled at Conroy’s insouciance. ‘You’re clear to leave, but in the circumstances, the crowd outside, the anger at the way the case against you has collapsed….’
    ‘Due to your efforts,’ Conroy acknowledged gravely.
    ‘… you’d be better off getting away in their protective custody.’
    Conroy raised his chin and twisted a supercilious lip. ‘I disagree. I’ve no desire to continue my association with these gentlemen. You are still my lawyer. We have matters to settle, the question of fees due and so on, you and Miss Owen….’ His glance slipped towards the silent Sharon, standing just inside the doorway. ‘I think it would be appropriate, and quite safe, if I were to leave the premises in your care, Mr Ward.’
    Eric was not keen on the suggestion. He glanced at the police officers. They met his eyes; one of them shrugged indifferently. He guessed they would not press the argument if he agreed to take responsibility for the safe conduct of their former prisoner. Raymond Conroy was now a free agent. They had no jurisdiction over him. Eric bit his lip. ‘I had arranged to escort Miss Owen from the building.’
    ‘Then we can make a cosy little threesome,’ Conroy suggested blandly.
    Eric glanced