"But you can overturn it, right? I want to take Robbie back to the Caribbean with me."
Patterson rubbed the bridge of his nose and screwed up his eyes as if he had the beginnings of a headache.
"Cards on the table, Den, it's not really my field. This domestic stuff is a specialised area. Would you mind if I pass you over to one of my colleagues?"
Donovan shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.
"I'd prefer you to handle it, Laurence."
Patterson grinned.
"Better the devil you know, eh?"
Donovan shrugged. That was part of his desire to have Patterson on the case. He know he could trust Patterson, and didn't relish the idea of having a stranger rooting through his personal business.
"We can do it that way, Den, but to be honest, all that would happen is that you'd talk to me, I'd run it by her, then I'd tell you what she told me."
"She?"
"Julia Lau. She's been here for donkey's and there's nothing she doesn't know about family law."
"Lau? Chinese?"
"That's right. And she's fucking inscrutable, Den."
Donovan wrinkled his nose. He still didn't like the idea of bringing in a lawyer he didn't know.
"You'd be better off having her arguing your case than me, Den. How's it going to look if you've got a criminal lawyer by your side in a custody fight? I keep people out of prison, Den. I don't discuss the finer points of parental control."
Donovan nodded.
"And she's dead safe, yeah?"
"Anything you tell her is privileged, Den. Like talking to a priest."
Donovan grinned.
"It's been almost thirty years since I spoke to a priest, and that was to tell him if he patted me on the backside again I'd set fire to his church. Okay, when I do I meet her?"
"I'll get her down now. I'll sit in on the initial briefing, yeah?"
"Cheers, Laurence."
Patterson went over to his desk and picked up his phone. While he was speaking, Donovan stared at a large canvas on the wall opposite him. It was about five feet wide and four feet high and was nothing more than three red squares on a yellow background. Donovan frowned as he looked at the painting, trying to work out what, if anything, the artist had been trying to say. The colours were vivid and the squares were accurately drawn, but Donovan couldn't see anything in the painting that a reasonably competent six-year-old couldn't have copied.
Patterson replaced the receiver and walked back to the sofas.
"How much did you pay for that?" asked Donovan, gesturing at the canvas.
"Fucked if I know," said Patterson.
"Purchasing gets them by the yard, I think."
"But you chose it, right?"
Patterson twisted around to get a better look.
"Nah, my secretary makes those sorts of decisions. They get rotated every few weeks."
"Yeah, it'd look better turned around," said Donovan.
"It's just something to look at. Makes the clients feel that we've got a creative side."
Donovan chuckled.
"You've got that all right," he said. Patterson's creativity had got him out of more than his fair share of scrapes, especially when he'd been named as Tango One.
There was a double knock on the door. It opened before Patterson had time to react, and Julia Lau walked in. She was one of the most unattractive women that Donovan had ever seen. She was overweight, bordering on obese, and her thighs rubbed together in a dark green trouser suit as she waddled over to the sofas, clutching a stack of files and notebooks to her large chest. Her face was almost circular, with thick-lensed spectacles perched precariously on the end of a bulbous nose. When she smiled she showed a mouthful of grey teeth.
"Mr. Donovan, so happy to meet you," she said, extending a hand. Her accent was faultless, pure English public school.
Donovan shook hands with her. She had pudgy, sausage-like fingers with ornate gold rings on each one and fingernails that were bitten to the quick.
"Laurence has told me so much about you."
Donovan looked at Patterson and arched an eyebrow.
"Has he now?"
"Just that you were a valued client with a matrimonial problem," said Patterson.
Lau dropped her files and notebooks on to the coffee table and lowered herself down on the sofa next to Donovan. It creaked under her weight and Donovan found himself sliding along the black leather towards her. He pushed himself away from her to the far end of the sofa.
Patterson handed Lau the injunction and she read through it quickly, her brow furrowed. Donovan looked across at Patterson, who nodded encouragingly. Donovan shrugged. Lau clearly hadn't been hired for her looks, so he could only assume that she was a first-class lawyer.
"Your wife says she believes that you intend to take your son to Anguilla. Is that true?"
"I have a house there."
"But your matrimonial home is here in London?"
"If you can call it that," said Donovan bitterly.
"It didn't stop her screwing my accountant there."
"Your primary residence is here in the UK, though? Is that the case?"
"It's complicated."
Lau peered at him over the top of her bottle-bottom lenses.
"Try to enlighten me, Mr. Donovan. I'll do my best to keep up." She flashed him a cold smile.
Donovan nodded, accepting that he had been patronising.
"I'm sorry. Yes, the family home is in London, but for various reasons I don't spend much time in the country. I have a home in Anguilla Robbie and his mother have stayed with me there for weeks at a time. I don't see why he shouldn't be allowed to go there now."
Lau nodded thoughtfully. Her lips had almost disappeared, leaving her mouth little more than a fine horizontal slash.
"I think it might be best if you enlighten Julia as to the nature of your problems in the UK," said Patterson.
Donovan grimaced.
"Den, it stays in this office," said Patterson.
Donovan sighed.
"Okay." He turned towards Lau.
"I was top of the police and Customs most wanted list," he said.
"Tango One. Everywhere I went I was followed. My phones were tapped, my bank accounts were looked at, my friends were put under surveillance. It made it impossible for me to operate."
"Operate?" said Lau.
"To put deals together. To do what I do. So I left the country. In the Caribbean the authorities are more .. . flexible."
Lau nodded thoughtfully but didn't say anything.
Donovan pointed at the injunction.
"We can get that overturned, right?"
"We can fight this, of course. If nothing else, forbidding him the freedom to travel with his father is a breach of your son's human rights. I must counsel you, however, that this is probably the first shot in what will almost certainly develop into a salvo. I would expect your wife very shortly to move to get custody of your son."
"No way!" said Donovan sharply.
Lau held up a hand to quieten him.
"There's no point in your wife simply stopping you from taking him out of the country. If you have sole custody, that injunction cannot stand. If I were advising your wife, I would have told her to rush through this injunction, but then to apply for sole custody on the basis that you are an unsuitable parental figure."
"Bollocks!"
Lau looked at him steadily, unabashed by his outburst.
"That would be my advice to her, Mr. Donovan. Please don't take offence, I am sure you are a commendable father, but your wife is going to portray you in the worst light possible. You have, I understand, no gainful employment."
"I'm not short of a bob or two," said Donovan.
"That's as maybe, but you don't have a job. Nor, I understand, do you spend much time in the family home."
Donovan exchanged a look with Patterson. He wondered how much Julia Lau knew about his dealings. Patterson's face provided no clue.