Phil Kurthausen - The Silent Pool

Sandy, his admin assistant, was sitting outside. Sandy was looking, as ever, immaculate in a crisp white blouse and perfect hair and make-up. Sandy was thirty-three and a single mum to ten-year-old Max. She was everything he wasn't: organised, tactful and professional.

‘Dan's already here, I sent him in.’ She shook her head. ‘Late again, Erasmus. You need to set that alarm clock earlier.’

Erasmus considered a witty riposte. They'd all sound petulant given that Sandy had, as she did every morning, got up, fed, dressed and got her little boy to school and still had time to make herself look like a million dollars.

‘As usually, Sandy, you are right. Good weekend?’

‘I took Max to see his father. You?’

Max's father was currently doing a ten-year stretch for armed robbery in Strangeways.

‘I had a gun pressed to my head by a homicidal Islamic loan shark.’

‘Nice. So still no girlfriend then?’

Erasmus harrumphed and walked into his office.

Dan, looking relaxed, pointed at two Styrofoam cups of coffee on the desk. ‘Breakfast!’ he declared.

‘Thanks and sorry I'm late,’

Dan waved the apology away. ‘Always like to see how the other half is getting on and I come bearing more gifts than just the coffee. But first tell me all about Jenna, she's hot stuff, isn't she?’

Erasmus was forced to agree and he told Dan about his meeting with Jenna and the subsequent introduction to Purple Ahmed. He didn't tell Dan about Rachel and her theory about the Third Wave. In the cold light of day it seemed a little too much like paranoia.

‘Well, looks like you've made some progress and more importantly you're keeping Mrs Francis happy. And we want her happy so we can get the uncle's account. I've just been in with the Bean talking about this, among other things – more of which in a minute – and he is really grateful. There could be a training contract on offer if you play your cards well here.’

A training contract in a law firm for a thirty-eight-year-old dishonourably discharged ex-Army officer was all but unthinkable without the right connections. Dan represented that connection.

Erasmus’ experiences at his own military trial had given him an appetite to become a lawyer but he couldn't deny that part of it was about proving to Miranda that he could hold down a real job and that the demons of the past could be caged. Erasmus had been studying part-time for his legal practice qualification for two years now but getting the training contract was always going to be the stumbling block.

‘That's great, when will this be available, I don't take my final exams for another six months?’

‘Well, given I'm moving on, there's going to be the need for another dogsbody fairly soon.’

Erasmus stared back at Dan. ‘They've made you a partner?’

Dan smiled and nodded. ‘Correctemondo! It seems that three years running of being the highest billing associate counts for something after all. So as of 1 stJanuary you are looking at the youngest equity partner at the firm.’

Erasmus shook Dan's hand. ‘Congratulations, you deserve it.’

‘Never a truer word spoken. Now listen to me when I tell you that the Bean is going to be looking to get another trainee on board if he bumps up Erik to my role. If you can keep Mrs Francis sweet and maybe bring in the uncle as a client your days of sitting in this cupboard are over.’

‘OK, that's great news. You heard the teachers’ strike is over?’

‘Finger on the pulse, eh Raz? That was news last week. It does mean I can do the school run again and get a chance to bump into those yummy mummies. Maybe I'll see you down there? But only after you find Stephen Francis. Make Jenna a happy woman, yeah?’

Dan left him with that thought. He might not have the perfect marriage, thought Erasmus, but Dan did get to spend time with his kids. Erasmus decided he would call Miranda later that evening and see if they could work something out, maybe Abby could stay over in the week for a couple of days and he could drop her off at school. He might even drop some reference to the training contract into the conversation but then he remembered Jeff and his mood darkened. Work, the habitual dampner of emotions beckoned and Erasmus happily followed.

The rest of the morning Erasmus ploughed through his large caseload of small time personal injury work and drug crimes. At 1 o'clock he got up and went outside to grab a sandwich from Philpotts, his favourite deli, which was situated in a large square behind the town hall. The square was filled with the usual mix of business people sitting on benches enjoying some cold, November sunshine while they ate their lunch and a gang of young skateboarders that were there every day performing tricks on the steps of the derelict offices that fronted the square.

Erasmus recognised one of the skateboarders. Her name was Heather, and Erasmus had helped her get off a charge of damaging public property by obtaining CCTV footage showing that the benches she was alleged to have broken by landing her skateboard on them had already been damaged by drunks the night before. Erasmus raised his hand and gave Heather a wave. She grinned and waved back. Even from fifty yards away Erasmus could see that Heather was smoking a large spliff.

With a shake of the head Erasmus walked into Philpotts and placed his order for the king of sandwiches: cheese and salad cream. It was what his elder brother Paul used to call the dum dum sandwich because when it hit your stomach it exploded with joy. As he waited for his sandwich he wondered what Paul's advice would be regarding Miranda and Abby. He would probably have told him to just kidnap Abby and let down the tires on Miranda's car on the way out. Paul had always had a direct approach to matters. Erasmus missed his advice.

Before the sandwich was ready his mobile rang.

‘Hey Erasmus. How are you doing? I got your message.’

Erasmus felt a tingle down his spine.

‘Hello Mrs Francis.’ He paused to allow her to say, ‘I told you, it's Jenna,’ and she obliged.

‘Look, Jenna, I've got something I need to discuss with you. Can we meet today?’

‘Sure, have you got a pen?’ asked Jenna.

Erasmus fumbled about in his suit pockets and pulled out a small blue bookies’ pen.

‘Oi, love, your butty's arrived,’ said the generously sized woman in the queue behind Erasmus.

And indeed there it was on the counter, and Sharon, the bored looking sandwich technician as her name badge informed him, was holding out her hand waiting for his money.

Suddenly, there was a screech of tires from outside, followed by shouting and the sounds of a scuffle. Everyone in the shop turned and looked towards the direction of the sound. Unfortunately the door didn't open directly onto the square. It was set off at a slight angle meaning the patrons couldn't rubberneck properly and no one was prepared to give up their place in the queue to walk to the door and see what was happening outside.

‘Hey love, your sandwich!’ It was the fat woman again. She gave Erasmus a dig in the ribs.

‘Are you OK?’ said Jenna.

Sharon was shaking her head. ‘That's four pound la. Come on I haven't got all day, there are other customers.’

And then from outside came the unmistakable sound of Heather's voice. ‘Erasmus help!’

‘Yeah, I'm fine. OK, give me the address!’ Erasmus hurriedly wrote down Jenna's address on a Philpotts napkin. ‘I'll see you late this evening. Got to go.’ And he hung up.

‘Yer butty, lazy arse. I'm starving!’ The woman dug the knuckles of her right hand into Erasmus’ ribs.

Erasmus ran out the door of Philpotts.

In the middle of the square there was a police wagon and a policeman was attempting to bundle Heather into the back of the van while another threatened her friends with a TASER as they crowded round and shouted at the cops.