15. Claire

CHAPTER 15

CLAIRE

TWO DAYS LATER – WORKING WITH LUCA’S LAWYER

I t had been two days since Luca was remanded, and I kept myself busy by taking some annual leave to assist Miki’s old lawyer, Bradley Kozlov, with preparing his case. Recovering from a heart attack and double bypass surgery, he looked frail, sitting in bed, forced there by his wife, who insisted that bed rest was “doctor’s orders.” His ashen complexion made him appear tired, yet his eyes sparkled with life.

Despite my reservations about working with him, he turned out to be the most charming person I’d ever met—so knowledgeable.

“You seem to remember everything,” I said in awe as he recited details from past trials and verdicts effortlessly. His sharp mind impressed me, and I could hardly keep up with the wealth of information he shared.

As we took a short break for tea, I decided it was time to learn more about the man behind the Bratva facade. I couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity about how he ended up in this position.

“Kozlov is Russian, right?” I asked.

“It is, indeed, young lady,” he smiled warmly.

“When did you come to the UK?”

“I was born here. You see, my father fled Russia during the Second World War. He had been forced to fight for a cause he didn’t agree with and hated every minute. He was part of the occupying forces in Poland, and as soon as the war ended, he came to the UK. Later, he met my mother and made a home here,” he replied.

“Is that how you became Bratva? Were you born into it like Miki and the others?”

“No, my dear,” he chuckled. “There was no Bratva when I was born—at least not in the UK. They came much later. I had already passed the bar and been a lawyer for some time before I even met Miki’s father.”

I tilted my head, curious. “How did you meet Alexi Rominov?”

“Ah, that’s a story worth telling,” Bradley said, leaning back in his chair. “We first crossed paths at a charity golf tournament, paired with mutual friends. Over the course of the day, we shared our views on the chaos in the Russian community here.”

“What kind of chaos?” I asked, sensing a deeper story.

He sighed, nodding thoughtfully. “Infighting, power struggles. It was a mess. But Alexi? He was sent here to restore order, and he succeeded, even if it took time.”

His expression turned serious as he continued, “But it wasn’t until one fateful night that our connection deepened. My son got into trouble after a night out, finding himself in a precarious situation with the local authorities.”

“Oh no,” I said, my heart racing at the thought.

“Yes. It was nothing too serious—just drunk and disorderly and vandalism. But he was studying medicine at the time, and it threatened his scholarship.”

“That would have been a problem,” I said, a wry smile on my lips.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “That’s when Alexi stepped in. With a few discreet calls, he ensured my son faced only a slap on the wrist rather than serious consequences, allowing him to retain his scholarship.” His relief was palpable.

“That must have meant a lot to you.”

“It did, and we became good friends after that,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned closer, as if about to share a secret. “We played golf regularly, even though he wasn’t very good. I must admit, I often played badly to ensure he won. The guy needed all the help he could get,” he chuckled, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha, I heard that, old timer. Dad said it was the other way around,” Miki’s voice came from behind me, causing me to jump in surprise. The rascal had snuck up on me while I was engrossed in conversation with Bradley.

Miki smirked at my reaction before turning toward his lawyer. “That’s what I let him think,” Bradley replied, and Miki chuckled.

“Just popped in to see how you were doing. May sent me up,” he said, producing a bottle of Scotch. “Brought you something to enjoy once you’re back on your feet again,” he added, his gaze warm as it swept over the older man.

“Oh, wonderful! Macallan. My favourite. Thank you, son,” Bradley said, and my heart warmed at the closeness these two shared.

“What do you think of Claire, old timer? She’s almost as sharp as you. Bet she’ll keep you on your toes,” Miki teased, glancing my way.

I felt my cheeks flush at the sudden attention.

“Indeed. And a beauty too. Brains and beauty. What more could a man ask for? No wonder Luca’s set his sights on her,” Bradley replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

The heat in my cheeks deepened at the revelation of Luca’s interest in me.

“If I were forty years younger and not madly in love with my May, I’d give him a run for his money,” Bradley said, winking, and I laughed. The man was incorrigible.

Shaking my head, I picked up my cup and took a sip.

“And speaking of love, how is your young lady?” Bradley asked Miki.

I watched intently as Miki’s expression transformed into a happy glow I’d only ever seen when he was with Eilidh.

“Great. The best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he replied with a grin.

Eilidh had been a police officer in Scotland before learning that her corrupt colleagues had killed her dad. She’d met Miki somehow; I didn’t know the ins and outs of that story. What I did know was that he’d somehow saved her life, and they’d fallen head over heels. She’d left the force and was now engaged to him—a Bratva pakhan. It was a strange situation, but I guessed that discovering her colleagues were corrupt and had committed such a heinous crime would be enough to turn anyone off the law.

“Have you taken a look at Luca’s case?” Miki asked, his tone growing more serious.

“Yes, and there’s a lot of work to do, but I have no doubt that, together, Claire and I will get him out of this predicament.”

Miki nodded.

“Well, I have a meeting to get to, so I’ll leave you two to finish your tea and get back to work. I’ll check in with you both tomorrow. In the meantime, if you need anything, let me know,” he said before disappearing.

Bradley watched him go with a gentle smile.

“He’s a good boy, that one,” he said before turning to me. “Now, what were we talking about before he arrived?”

“You were telling me how you became a Bratva lawyer.”

“Ah yes, we remained close friends for the next few years, but when Alexi’s lawyer was killed by a disgruntled husband—he was a ladies’ man, you see, particularly partial to married ones—he offered me the job. I knew him well by then and respected him greatly, so I didn’t hesitate. The fact I was feeling undervalued by my firm at the time, overlooked for a promotion yet again in favour of a partner’s son, only sweetened the offer. Alexi made me feel like I mattered again.”

I smiled as he continued.

“Since then, I have helped with everything they’ve needed, whether in a commercial law capacity for their business interests or in a criminal capacity. I must admit it has been more commercial these days, especially since Miki took over and has been turning to more legitimate sources of income. There has been less need for me to attend criminal court, and I have to say, I much prefer that.”

Bradley’s mouth tilted in a smile as he watched me closely, trying to gauge my response, no doubt fully aware of my own issues with the situation. Finally, I nodded slowly, filled with an understanding I hadn’t expected. My initial caution about working with him faded, replaced by a newfound respect for the man who was deeply embedded in a world I had always viewed with suspicion.

“Shall we get back to work, then?” he said, patting the bed. I nodded happily and climbed up beside him.

“Now, don’t get too close, dear. I’m a happily married man, and we don’t want May to get jealous,” he said, trying hard to keep a straight face.

Laughing, I shook my head at his silliness. “Stop your nonsense. We have serious work to do,” I told him in a prim voice, making him chuckle.

“That we do, dear. That we do,” he agreed.

I adjusted my laptop, making sure he had a clear view of the screen. His gaze shifted from the playful glint of our banter back to the details on the monitor, and I could see his focus sharpening. There was no mistaking the seriousness of what lay ahead, even if we’d allowed ourselves a brief moment of levity.

“Right, let’s get to it. Let’s start with the holes in the prosecution’s case,” I said.

We spent the next couple of hours discussing and listing all the inconsistencies with the prosecution’s case. The Crown Prosecutor Service was citing this as a crime of passion.

The story they were trying to concoct was that although Luca claimed to not have seen Julie since she went to rehab, they’d supposedly reconnected recently. Even though he’d taken a restraining order out on her due to her erratic behaviour, and they should not have been anywhere near each other, the prosecution argued that the pair had got back together before the evening of her death. They claimed that he left Marcie’s party early to return to his flat and meet with Julie, hoping for sex. But things hadn’t gone to plan. They asserted he’d drugged and restrained her, sexually assaulted her, and then slit her throat.

Yet, there were no witnesses to their meeting, and no mobile calls or messages to corroborate that. The CCTV in Luca’s building was apparently broken that evening—how convenient, especially when it had been working fine all day. And why didn’t the night shift security guard see her? He claimed to be on his dinner break when Luca returned, so he couldn’t confirm what time he’d returned or that he’d been alone. Another coincidence? I didn’t think so.

So, how and when did Julie arrive at the flat? And how did she bypass security? Also, why were there no fingerprints on the needle? But why would he do that yet still leave the needle in her arm? She’d been raped—but no semen or condom had been found. Where was the condom? And the poor woman’s throat had been slit. What happened to the murder weapon? The prosecution asserted that Luca must have wiped the prints off and disposed of the evidence prior to the police’s arrival. But how could he? None of that made sense. In fact, it was ridiculous.

“So many holes,” I mumbled as I read through the list we’d made.

“Yes, dear.”

“And who was the anonymous caller?” I huffed in exasperation.

“And why would the police break down the door based on such a call when there was no sign of a disturbance when they got to the flat?”

“The report says they heard a scream from inside and so broke down the door when it wasn’t answered. Even though a man had shouted he was coming? How could they hear a scream when Julie was already dead? That seems very suspicious.”

“Exactly. It might be prudent to look into the officers that came to the scene, my dear. Perhaps they were just overzealous and wanted a chance to break down a door. Or maybe they wanted to ensure that they had proper cause to search Luca’s home. After all, if he’d come to the door and not had blood on him, they wouldn’t have had any cause to go inside if there were no signs of a disturbance and Luca denied any had taken place. Especially not based on an anonymous call which might simply have been somebody trying to make a nuisance of themselves.”

I nodded in agreement. So many things didn’t add up. There were major gaps in the prosecution’s case, and much of it stank of police malpractice, possibly even corruption. The thought soured my stomach. I would do my utmost to exploit the flaws in the case, expose any unlawful or overzealous behaviour by the police, and shed doubt on the prosecution’s theory, in order to secure Luca’s freedom.

Bradley’s eyes were heavy by the time we had made our notes.

“Okay, we’ve done enough here. I’ll make a start on gathering the evidence for Luca’s defence,” I told him. “I’ll come by again tomorrow to discuss whatever I find. In the meantime, you need to rest,” I said, giving the old man a peck on the cheek. He was already snoring lightly by the time I’d packed up my laptop and left his room.

Back in my car, I placed a quick call to Marko. He agreed to get me all the information he could on the security guard and the company he worked for, check the building’s security system to see if it had been tampered with, and look for any means of giving Luca an alibi for the time he was driving around.

After grabbing a sandwich for lunch, I headed to the courthouse. I needed to discuss another case with the prosecutor involved. My client was prepared to accept a deal and plead guilty to a drunk driving charge if the more serious assault charge against him was dropped.

Once we’d agreed to the terms, I submitted the required documentation to make it happen, then called the client to let him know the outcome before his trial date, which was scheduled for the following morning.

As I was leaving to head to the jail to see Luca, the Crown prosecutor for Luca’s case approached me with the pre-trial information. I was relieved to see my friend and mentor, Elizabeth Traynor, also known as Lady Frost, she would preside over the preliminary hearing and the High Court trial, should it reach that stage. I knew she would be fair and reasonable.

“Ah, the woman I wanted to see!” a voice called, and I looked up to see the very woman hurrying towards me.

“Elizabeth!” I smiled, giving her a kiss on each cheek as she leaned in.

“Claire, my dear, a word if you have time?” she gestured for me to follow her into a nearby empty office.

“I see you have a copy of the pre-trial for the Wilson murder case,” she said, eyeing the document in my hand.

I nodded, ready to respond, but she cut me off. “Good, then you’ll see that I’m presiding over it and expect it to go my way,” she declared firmly.

“Your way?” I echoed, confused.

“Yes, Claire. Luca Orlov has powerful friends. However, those friends have made enemies. People more powerful than them, who wouldn’t hesitate to protect their interests, even at the expense of justice. I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a position where your career, or worse, is on the line.”

“My career?” I asked, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. “Are you saying that my position could be compromised just by assisting Bradley with Luca’s case? Or worse, that my safety is at stake for merely doing my job?”

Was this a test? Or an actual warning? As the judge, Elizabeth’s role was to oversee proceedings fairly. I’d always believed she did that, but now I sensed I might be wrong, and I didn’t like the direction this was heading.

“Claire, sometimes the law has to bend. The Rominovs are significant players in this city, and so are their enemies. You need to tread carefully. You don’t want their enemies to become yours. I expect you to take this matter seriously.” Her voice dropped to a low, conspiratorial tone, making my skin prickle.

“Of course, I will,” I replied. “I always look out for my client’s best interests.”

Her gaze softened slightly. “You always do, Claire. You’ve made your mother proud. But remember, sometimes the law doesn’t work as it should. Evidence can be manipulated, and alliances can shift. You never know who might come knocking when the stakes get high, or what might be required of you.”

“Are you suggesting I break the law?” I shot back, feeling my defensiveness rise.

She raised a hand. “No, no! I’m not implying that at all. I simply want you to be aware of the larger picture. Understand how things operate. Know that the outcome is sometimes beyond our control and there are times when it is prudent to extract yourself from problematic situations.”

I swallowed hard, sensing the weight of her words. “Thank you for your advice, but I assure you I will remain ethical and I have no intention of withdrawing my help in this case.”

“Very well, Claire. Just remember, it’s a dangerous game we play. Protect yourself,” she stated firmly, before returning to the corridor.

Staring after her, I frowned, unable to fully grasp the meaning behind her veiled warnings. A knot tightened in my stomach. What was she really suggesting? Could I trust her? For the first time in my life, I doubted it. The weight of her words lingered, making me question everything I believed about the justice I was fighting for.

After a moment to collect myself, I returned to my office, my heart racing with renewed determination. I had to protect Luca and ensure he was exonerated—whatever it took.