ravenous visitor retreated to a bench as if protecting a precious find.
Violet headed outside again, lighting a cigarette as she went. “You told me no one had to find out. What’s in her diary is just ramblings to help make sense of stuff. I’ll just deny it.”
“If the police have copies of the diary contents, then the Harbourns’ lawyers will see it before too long.”
Violet shook her head. “Shit. I didn’t think of that.”
Anya knew then who had delivered the diary.
“I already got a call from Ricky on my mobile but I just let it go to voicemail. No bloody prizes for guessing why he wants to meet up.”
Anya thought for a moment. “If there was a way to make them pay for what they did to you without you having to go through a rape trial, would you help?”
Violet thought for a moment. “Savannah wasn’t afraid of them except when Gary was around. He’s the violent one of the lot.”
“He’s under police guard in a psychiatric hospital. It looks as if he won’t be going anywhere for a long time.”
Esther wandered out, crumbs clinging to her tattered waistcoat. “Give my compliments to the Maharaja. I wonder what the poor people are eating today.” She chortled through a toothless mouth and continued on her way.
“I’ll see Rick,” Violet said nervously, “but only on my terms. You don’t know him like I do. He wouldn’t hurt anyone-ever. If he could have stopped them that night with me, he would have. Gary is the evil one who controlled the others. And I’ll prove it.”
Anya immediately regretted making the suggestion.
48
At the end of the trial, the packed gallery rose for the verdict.
Pascoe eyed the crowd before asking the jury foreperson whether they had reached a verdict. “We have, Your Honor.”
Gary Harbourn grinned and looked toward his family. His mother waved. Fiorelli stood, hands by his side.
“On the charges of murder of Rachel Goodwin, how find you?”
“We find the defendant not guilty.”
Fiorelli’s shoulders rounded and Anya felt as if she’d been punched.
Noelene squealed and Gary waved to his supporters.
“Quiet!” Pascoe bellowed, then waited for silence. “On the charges of manslaughter due to diminished responsibility, commonly known as insanity, how find you?”
“We find the defendant guilty.”
“Thank you for your time and effort in this, a truly difficult trial and verdict. You are discharged.”
The Harbourn family cheered and Gary placed his hands up to have his cuffs removed.
“Silence!”
“In light of the verdict, I have already considered sentencing. I find Gary Harbourn to be a deeply disturbed, dangerous man. I hereby order he be sent to the psychiatric facility at a high-security prison, until such time as he is assessed as no longer a risk to himself or the community.”
Gary punched the air but Dan Brody stayed remarkably stone-faced.
Court was dismissed and Gary shook Dan’s hand before being led away by the court officer, still handcuffed.
“Love you, Mum, see you soon!”
Anya felt a combination of nausea and revulsion. She’d helped Brody provoke Gary Harbourn into a crazed rage in front of the jury.
That image had been far more powerful in the jury’s mind than Savannah’s diary and any suggestion that Gary had led his brothers on a revenge mission, killing Rachel only because she had been at the wrong house.
She turned to leave, but Dan was quickly by her side.
“There’s nothing we have to say to each other. If you’re expecting some kind of congratulations, forget it.” She walked outside, past the media and Noelene’s soapbox.
At the set of lights on Oxford Street, she raised her hand to hail a cab.
Brody was by her side, with his briefcase. “Anya, wait. Listen. I didn’t just win. We won. Do you understand?
He grabbed her by the arm. “God, you are a stubborn woman. Pascoe knew exactly what he was doing when he told me I had to follow Harbourn’s instructions.”
She felt the heat rising in her neck again.
“You’re unbelievable. You have no idea what you’ve just done. When some psychiatrist is taken in by Gary Harbourn’s sob story, he’ll be out, free, never to serve prison time for what he did to Rachel.”
“I don’t think so.” He grinned. “There’s a tiny detail you appear to be missing. The discretion to free him is still up to the governor of the state, at least until new laws take effect, and there’s no retrospective clause. Do you know how many people have been freed in this state once they’ve been sent to the psych prison? Take a guess. Go on.”
Anya was in no mood for games but knew the number was small.
“Okay, I’ll give you the answer. Zero. None. Not a one. Gary’s chances of ever being released are slimmer than Paris Hilton becoming US president. No Governor will risk letting him out, especially given Sophie’s trauma and the added publicity Noelene has brought to the case.”
Anya struggled to accept what he was saying. “Is that really true?”
“My client is completely deluded if he believes he’s beaten the system. He thinks insanity is a soft option, but the truth is, even if he’d been found guilty of murder, he could have been out in seven to ten years. Pascoe knew what he was doing when he told me to follow Harbourn’s instructions to the letter.”
The judge had been adamant, but Anya had thought it was punishment for the confrontation at his house. Bevan Hart might have made a difference after all with his comments about victims and Giverny’s final letter.
“And,” Brody moved closer, “Pascoe has made sure he will suffer. Psych prisons are far worse than any jail in the state. No access to females, which means he won’t be raping a woman again.”
On impulse, Anya reached up and hugged Dan. She wished Giverny and Bevan Hart-and Natasha Ryder-were here to see the result.
“Aren’t we lucky I’m such a damn good lawyer?”
Anya pushed him away, but this time she was laughing. “Thanks. I really have to go, but we’ll talk soon.”
“What about celebrating? You haven’t told me how Sophie Goodwin’s doing, either.”
A taxi pulled up and she got in. “She should go home next week. Her father’s planning a party. Maybe we can celebrate at that.”
Violet Yardley knocked on the front door, with a six-pack of beer in her hand.
“Congratulations,” she said.
“What do you want, you little slut?” Noelene Harbourn had answered the door. She was wearing a kaftan and holding a glass of champagne.
“I want to see Ricky.”
“Well, he’s free for now, no thanks to you.”
“What did I do? I didn’t tell the police anything. Savannah tried to snitch on them, but I wouldn’t go along with it.”
Rick appeared from inside.
“Mum, I want to see her.”
Noelene stared at Violet, before slinking back to her boyfriend. “I’m telling you, she’s trouble. She’ll come between you boys.”
Rick stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
“I’m glad you came.” He reached forward and kissed her cheek, pausing to see her reaction. When she didn’t
