Singh had been ordered by Ashton to sit among them, wanting the world to see that they’d worked in tandem and that she, as the papers had stated, was her protégé. The idea had made her skin crawl, but she towed the line.
Sam had sacrificed his freedom for her. She wouldn’t allow him to go to prison for her to then throw it away.
In the far corner, a small, seated section had been reserved for the public and she noticed Pearce had managed to squeeze through, and he sat calmly, his eyes wandering around the grand chambers.
In the middle of the room, the prosecution team were foraging through their paperwork, their white wigs attached firmly to their heads and cascading down the back of their necks in ridiculous curls.
The traditional attire had always caused Singh an element of amusement and there had been times where she’d had to stifle a smirk when addressed by a bloodthirsty defence advocate.
But today, the levity of their outfits had no effect on her.
A large, oak desk sat atop an elevated platform at the front of the court room, with an empty leather chair sat behind it like a throne. It would grant the judge a clear view of the entire room, and its current vacancy only heightened the tension. To the side was the witness stand, sectioned off with a thin, wooden partition that wasn’t required for today’s case.
Just in front of Singh, a middle-aged woman sat, her fingers gently gliding over the keys of her stenographer like a concert pianist.
At the far end of the room, a balcony hung, framed with plexiglass. Sam would be led into the room through the door behind it, put on show for the world to see like a dangerous animal at the zoo. With his plea of guilty, there was no need for any representation and Singh was sure that he would take his sentence with dignity.
As the tension in the room began to reach boiling point, the large clock on the wall struck three, and the court officer’s booming voice shook the room. He demanded silence and for the room to rise in respect for the judge. Instantly, the door to the judge’s chamber opened, the honourable Judge Alan Barnes made his entrance, the court room obliging him as they stood. While his position commanded the silence of the room, his stature did not. Short and portly, he shuffled towards the large chair, slightly dipping his head so he could peer out over the top of his frameless glasses. All eyes were locked on him and he did his best to return the gaze with authority. He lowered himself into his chair, grunting as he landed, and he made a show of shuffling the documents before him.
Every movement felt like it took forever and seemingly pleased to begin, Judge Barnes peered over his spectacles once more and deliberately cleared his throat.
‘Court is now in session. Please, bring in the accused.’
Chapter Five
‘But I didn’t do anything.’
Jamie’s protests of innocence were bordering on laughable and Sam had always struggled when it came to disciplining his son. Despite his regimented, military upbringing, and legendary career within the armed forces, there was still something about a child’s naïve understanding of the world that melted his heart. There had been countless times when Sam had needed to mask a grin or stifle a chuckle, because giving a child an inch would mean you were already miles behind.
‘Look, Jamie,’ Sam said, forcing the sternness to his words. ‘Your mum told you not to go out the front when neither of us are with you and you didn’t listen. That’s wrong isn’t it?’
Jamie’s eyes were red from tears, the tantrum of being marched to his room may have faded but Sam knew they were walking a tightrope. Lucy, his loving wife, was downstairs in the living room, her headset affixed to her head and her laptop rested on her lap. Her career as a Marketing Manager meant an awful lot to her, but she’d negotiated two days a week where she worked from home, even when Sam was there. All that would change once Sam began his training to join the Metropolitan Police, but that wasn’t happening for a few more weeks.
For now, Sam was playing the parent and he knew he couldn’t let his wife down.
By proxy, he would let his son down, too. While Sam idolised his son, Jamie had broken a clear rule set by his parents.
Sam appreciated the sanctity of orders, even if he had broken one or two in the heat of the moment.
It had saved lives.
But now, Sam waited a few more moments before asking again.
‘That’s wrong, isn’t it?’
Jamie was lying face down on his bed, the frame of which was built to look like a race car. His blonde hair, which flopped over his forehead, was splayed out across the pillow, while the rest of his body was outstretched like a starfish. The room was strangely neat for a five-year-old, and Sam commended Lucy for installing a neat and tidy attitude within their son. As Sam looked around the room, he finally settled on the growing number of books on the bookcase.
Jamie loved to read.
It was a love Sam had begun sharing with his son and one which Sam had neglected for years. He had always been so focused on his military career, that spending time losing himself in other adventures seemed moot.
But watching his son devour page after page, Sam had decided to show a keen interest in the written word. When he’d asked his son for a recommendation, his son made him promise to read more.
Sam had agreed.
His son had also made him promise to not kill
