“Okay,” says Dad, still shaky, before letting out a long sigh. “I understand. I do. And I’m in too deep now to back out. We started this together, so we’ll finish it together. I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through, son. We’ll take these…these awful, awful people down, I promise.”

Um, what? I nudge the door open the tiniest bit, quietly so they don’t hear, and peek in. What I see surprises the hell out of me. Dad and Jay are embracing.

They pull apart, and my heart thuds. I scurry back to my room as quietly as I can manage and get back into bed. A few minutes later, I hear Jay leave Dad’s office. My bedroom door opens and I hold my breath, keeping my eyes shut and feigning slumber. I can practically feel him standing there, just watching me. Then I hear him let out a long, harsh breath before closing my door again and leaving the house.

I lie there for a long time, running their conversation through my head again and again.

I sleep the rest of the night through and wake up early feeling much better. My throat is clear, and my muscles are no longer sore. My head isn’t dizzy anymore, either. Today, I’m determined to go to the trial. I shower and dress in a short-sleeved cream blouse and a navy pencil skirt, blow drying my hair straight. I put on a little more makeup than normal, my natural complexion looking a bit washed out after my bout of illness.

When I go downstairs, I find Dad sitting in his usual chair, reading the paper and drinking coffee. There are bags under his eyes, and it looks like he didn’t get a wink of sleep. His conversation with Jay comes back to me. Whatever it was about, it obviously kept him up all night.

I’ve had my suspicions for a while that Jay’s been doing some things that aren’t entirely legal. I’m not sure why, but I trusted him with it. Making myself believe that he knew what he was doing. He must have confessed to Dad, confessed everything, all of the things he refuses to tell me until some unknown date in the future.

But I promised him I wouldn’t ask questions, and I like to think I stick by my promises.

“Morning,” I say, stepping into the room and popping some bread in the toaster.

“Matilda,” Dad replies, mustering up a smile. “You look great. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I already called the temp and told her we wouldn’t be needing her anymore. I’m raring to go.”

Dad frowns. “Are you sure? This case has become very…complicated. I wouldn’t mind at all if you wanted to sit it out. A lot of unseemly things have come to light.”

“You mean about Una Harris and hacking into Jay’s phone? I heard it on the news.”

Dad’s lips draw into a thin line and his expression turns frosty, though it isn’t directed at me. “That is not all that woman has done, honey. It seems she has been relentless in her ambition over the years, and Jay has proof of all of it.”

I stare at him. “How?”

“He’s been a very busy man, did his homework,” is Dad’s only answer. There’s something sad in his tone, something sad and…affectionate. Like he feels for Jay for some reason.

My bread pops up out of the toaster, startling me. I turn away from Dad and go to find the butter. After breakfast, Will shows up and drives us all to the courthouse, parking along the quays when we get there. The press is everywhere, like ants over a lump of sugar. Jay is waiting for us just inside, alone. His eyes light up with happiness and relief when he sees me. Unfortunately, after eavesdropping on him and Dad last night, I can’t say I feel the same way.

I need to know the truth. And right now I might as well be wearing a blindfold. I just hope that when it comes off, I can accept whatever is revealed to me.

“Watson! You’re better,” he says, gathering me into his arms and giving me a warm, thankfully friendly hug, given Dad and Will’s presence. When we go inside the courtroom, I sort through the files for the day, muttering my annoyance at the crappy job the temp did. Nothing is where it’s supposed to be, and it’s going to take forever for me to fix her mistakes. We have to wait for the judge to arrive, which could take God knows how long.

My eyes wander to Brian and Una as they come in, flanked by their legal team. Unlike Jay, who specifically requested for Dad to represent him in court, Brian is using a barrister, a middle-aged guy I actually recognise. Thomas Jenkins. Most people in the law profession in this city know him because he’s one of the most talented men in the business.

I study Brian, my gaze narrowed. There must be something about him, something beneath the ordinary exterior that would cause Jay to hate him so much.

“You okay, darlin’?” Jay asks, breaking through my thoughts. He obviously saw me staring at Brian.

I glance at him and then down at the papers in front of me. “Yeah, it’s just — there’s something off about that guy, you know. I can’t figure it out because he just seems so normal.”

Jay strokes at his chin, a contemplative expression on his face. “Have you ever read any Hannah Arendt?” I must look lost, because he explains further. “She’s a political theorist.”

I shake my head at him. “No, I never went to college, Jay. People who haven’t been to college don’t generally read political theorists.”

I’m not sure why I snipe at him. It’s probably because I know that he knows exactly what it is that’s “off” about Brian, but he won’t tell me.

“Neither did I. But yeah, I get what you mean. Anyway, she wrote this book about the trial of a Nazi lieutenant named Adolf Eichmann in the 1960s. Arendt was a Jew who left Germany during Hitler’s reign, and during the trial this guy had to face up to all the atrocities he committed. Things only a monster could conceive of. However, he was examined by psychologists, and it was determined that he wasn’t a psychopath, that in fact he was entirely normal. This left Arendt to determine that perfectly ordinary, everyday people were capable of crimes normally associated with only the most depraved, wicked members of society. She called it the banality of evil. That’s what you see when you look at Brian Scott, Matilda. He is mundane, run of the mill, humdrum, looks like a carbon copy of every other professional man his age, and yet….”

He trails off and looks away. I feel like I’m holding my breath. “And yet what, Jay?” I ask eagerly.

“The judge is here,” he says, turning back and rubbing his hands together. “Looks like this party is about to get started.”

Dad swoops in then, talking hurriedly to Jay, so I don’t get the chance to question him further. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Jessie sitting in the gallery, and she gives me a cheerful smile and a wave. I wave back and settle into my seat.

I’m not sure why, but I have a feeling this is going to be a long and interesting day.

Twenty-Seven

Dad’s going to call a witness to the stand, a woman named Emma Feelan who works as Una Harris’ P.A. I’m actually stunned that they convinced her to be a witness. And really, I’m not sure if Una was aware of this, because when Mrs Feelan is called forward, her mouth falls open in surprise

I watch her expression of shock turn to one of fury as she levels her catty green eyes on her employee. Or should I say, “former employee”? At least, I’m sure she will be before the day is out. I watch the woman as she takes the stand and the registrar has her swear the oath. It takes me a discombobulated minute to realise that I know this woman. It’s the cougar. The one Jay and I had to rescue Jessie from when she’d tried to get her to have a threesome that included her husband.

What. The. Eff. Is. Going. On?

Gone is the jewellery and semi-slutty outfit she’d been wearing the first time I saw her at the casino. Now her hair is slicked back into a neat bun, and she’s wearing a very respectable pantsuit. Immediately, my head whips back to Jessie where she’s sitting in the gallery. She gives me a mischievous wink as I mouth, What the fuck?