chances higher than fifty–fifty. Much will depend on the testimony of the expert witnesses.’ At the last hearing it had been agreed that each side would instruct an expert, taken from a list of members of the Carpenters’ Guild, who would report to the court on whether and how the painting could be removed. ‘Have you looked at the list I gave you?’
She waved a dismissive hand. ‘I know none of those people. You must recommend a man who will report the painting can easily be taken down. There must be someone who would do that for a high enough fee. Whatever it is, I will pay it.’
‘A sword for hire,’ I replied flatly. There were, of course, expert witnesses who would swear black was white for a high enough fee.
‘Exactly.’
‘The problem with such people, Mistress Slanning, is that the courts know the experts and would give little credibility to such a man. We would be much better off instructing someone whom the courts know as honest.’
‘And what if he reports back to you against us?’
‘Then, Mistress Slanning, we shall have to think again.’
Isabel frowned, her eyes turning to narrow little slits. ‘If that happens, then we will instruct one of these “swords for hire”, as that strange expression puts it.’ She looked at me haughtily, as though it were I, not her, who had suggested deceiving the court.
I took my copy of the list from the desk. ‘I would suggest instructing Master Jackaby. I have dealt with him before, he is well respected.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I have been consulting the list. There is a Master Adam here, he was Chairman of his Guild; if there is a way to get that painting off – which I am sure there is – he will find it.’
‘I think Master Jackaby would be better. He has experience of litigation.’
‘No,’ she repeated decisively. ‘I say Master Adam. I have prayed on the matter and believe he is the right man to get justice for me.’
I looked at her. Prayed on it? Did she think God concerned himself with malicious legal cases? But her haughty expression and the firm set of her mouth told me she would not be moved. ‘Very well,’ I said. She nodded imperiously. ‘But remember, Mistress Slanning, he is your choice. I know nothing of him. I will arrange a date when the two experts can meet together at the house. As soon as possible.’
‘Could they not visit separately?’
‘The court would not like that.’
She frowned. ‘The court, the court – it is my case that matters.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, if I lose in King’s Bench I shall appeal to Chancery.’
‘So, probably, will your brother if he loses.’ I wondered again at the bitterness between them. It went back a long way, I knew that; they had not spoken in years. Isabel would refer contemptuously to how her brother could have been an alderman by now if he had made the effort. And I wondered again, why had the mother insisted on using that wording in her Will. It was almost as though she had wished to set her children against each other.
‘You have seen my last bill of costs, Mistress Slanning?’ I asked.
‘And paid it at once, Serjeant Shardlake.’ She tilted her chin proudly. It was true; she always settled immediately, without question. She was no Bealknap.
‘I know, madam, and I am grateful. But if this matter goes on into next year, into Chancery, the costs will grow and grow.’
‘Then you must make Edward pay them all.’
‘Normally in probate matters costs are taken out of the estate. And remember, with the value of money falling, the house and your mother’s money are going down in value too. Would it not be more sensible, more practical, to try and find some settlement now?’
She bridled. ‘Sir, you are my lawyer. You should be advising me on how I can win, surely, not encouraging me to end the matter without a clear victory.’ Her voice had risen again; I kept mine deliberately low.
‘Many people settle when the outcome is uncertain and costly.
Justine Dare Justine Davis