Framed by Lynda La Plante

second he began to laugh too.
Larry felt his smile fade, wondering what they knew that he didn't.

f

An hour in the sealed court was like four anywhere else. By eleven forty-five Larry was having trouble staying alert. He preferred courts full of people, plenty of faces to dwell on. Variety kept him attentive.
This gathering had the atmosphere of a funeral for somebody who had died friendless, with only a handful of acquaintances grudgingly mourning him. Four uniformed officers guarded the door; Von Joel, handcuffed, was on the podium with his head bowed. His lawyer, Sydney Jefferson, sat in the front pew. Larry and DI Shrapnel were on a bench at the side.
The magistrate, an attractive middle-aged woman with steady eyes and a no-nonsense mouth, sat with her head resting on her hands, a large file open in front of her. She turned the pages slowly, listening carefully to McKinnes, who was standing to her left with a copy of the same file.
"As you can see, ma'am," he said in his gravest courtroom voice, "pages ten, eleven, and up to page fourteen give details of the fifth offense. This was a particularly violent robbery, and Constable Walter Cronk was shot at point-blank range. To date we have been unable to produce the evidence to enable us to arrest the five suspects named at the top of page fifteen. These suspects have all been questioned over a number of years in connection with the said offense. Edward Myers has supplied us with a detailed route and layout of the robbery, plus the names of four fences used to distribute the money, and he has admitted to being a party to laundering the said moneys."
The magistrate looked up.
"Did Myers also benefit from the proceeds of the named robbery?" "Yes, ma'am, he did, and we have access to his private accounts. His lawyer has produced bank statements and details of all financial transactions over a period of five years, proving without doubt that Myers was, even though on the run, very active in laundering moneys from illegal sources."
McKinnes paused to clear his throat.
"If I may draw your attention to the next page . . ."
"The Highfield armed robbery," the magistrate said, making a note. "Continue."
The officers by the door were wilting but trying gamely not to show it. Sydney Jefferson, on the other hand, had been vigilant throughout, making notes as the various pieces of evidence were discussed. Frank Shrapnel, too, had made a lot of notes. Von Joel, standing with his eyes fixed on the floor, might well have been in a trance.
"This man, the suspect numbered thirteen on your list," McKinnes said, "disposed of the shotgun used in the robbery. Myers has been very cooperative and is willing to take us to the location. Page sixteen gives details of the bullion raid at Gatwick Airport, June 1987. There are three named suspects. None have been interrogated as a result of the continuing investigation, but they will now be brought in for questioning."
Larry found himself staring at Von Joel, fascinated by his air of detached calm, the way he managed to look as if he wasn t really part of the proceedings. As Larry stared, Von Joel turned his head slowly. Their eyes met and Von Joel smiled. Larry looked away sharply.
"The men named by Myers," McKinnes went on, "have no previous criminal connections, or associations with any of the afore-listed suspects. None have police records and they appear on the surface to be honest, hard-working citizens. The information divulged by Edward Myers is therefore deemed to be of great importance."
During the lunch break Larry found himself in the toilet at the same time as DI Shrapnel. As Larry washed his hands he glanced at the Inspector.
"So what's next?"
"Jefferson will have his say," Shrapnel muttered, stepping away from the stall. "Then we wait for the outcome. In the old days none of this was bloody necessary, as you know. We could make the deal and get on with it." He went to the mirror and combed his sparse hair. "Now everything's in favor of the