Page 26 of Luca

“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’sthroat 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?”