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BELINDA BRONSON was coming out of the gym on Friday evening as Georgie was going in. ‘Just the person I wanted to see,’ she said, pulling Georgie to one side away from the cluster of members near the front door.

‘I was going to say the very same thing to you,’ Georgie said with a little frown. ‘I got into heaps of trouble over talking to you about the Tanders’ accident.’

Belinda’s expression turned cynical. ‘That kind of figures,’ she said. ‘I spoke to a mate of mine in Traffic—he must have pressed a few too many sensitive buttons. He told me Mr Tander is a legal eagle. Lawyers always think they’re above suspicion and that the legal system they represent and defend so volubly in court doesn’t apply to them outside it.’

‘Yeah, well, he’s not just any old legal eagle,’ Georgie said. ‘He’s a high court judge. If he’s serious about going ahead with this, my career is over.’

Belinda tapped her top lip for a moment. ‘You know, it might be worth having a deeper look into this,’ she said.