by David Adkins
“That was lucky,” I commented.
“Yes, but I had to do quite a bit of grovelling after the way I left last time,” she giggled.
I loved it when she giggled. She was always beautiful but she seemed even more beautiful when there was laughter on her face. I was hopelessly under her spell again. She smiled knowingly, as if she knew her power over me. “When should I arrive at the Old Bailey, Steve?”
“I will be there at 8.30 in the foyer.”
“I will see you at 8.30 tomorrow morning then. Don’t forget that we have a date after proceedings finish for the day.”
As if I would, I thought. “I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a very successful day,” I smiled.
She left my office to see her friends at the Gaiety Theatre across the Strand. I went to the door of my office as she crossed the road and she turned around to wave. I waved back and went inside. It was a shame that I would have to wait until tomorrow to see her again but I would be patient. Tomorrow would be a big day all round for it was the day I had been building up to for several weeks. It was the culmination of all my trials and tribulations of recent times but now it was about to usher in the beginning of a brand new life. I hoped it would be a life with Cassie in California. Was I jumping the gun? Was I going too fast? I had known her for less than a month. Was I crazy in thinking she would go to the United States with me? I would soon find out.
Chapter 12
Friday 2nd March
The morning I arrived at the Central Criminal Court was cloudy and dull. The court was an impressive building close to that even more impressive building, St Pauls Cathedral. I was one of the first to arrive, but James Butler with Jenny Morgan and a junior clerk from the office were already waiting in the foyer. James came over to greet me and took my hand. “Max is already here,” he informed me. “It is a very big day for him.”
I nodded. “Justice will be served.” I looked around the foyer of this imposing building where many famous trials of the past had taken place and legal history had been acted out in this great building. I had been here a few times previously but it never ceased to impress me. People were beginning to arrive and I assumed some must be members of the jury but as yet there was no sign of Cassie.
“You could have a long wait, Steve.” James was speaking again. “I will stick to my plan of making you the last witness for the defence. Max will be first and then Mervyn Williams and Pete Bannister.”
“What about the witnesses for the prosecution?” I asked.
“As far as I know they are just calling the residents of the apartment block in Russell Square, unless they have any surprise witnesses. Perhaps they will have a witness who might be able to show Max was in debt but being in debt does not make you a killer. I understand he is a bit of a gambler.”
I nodded agreement and looked around and saw Cedric Bromley and acknowledged him with a smile and he nodded back. I remembered Bromley informing me about the village of Tintree and that alarmed me slightly. I certainly did not want that to come up in court but then neither did Smith. This made me wonder if Smith would have any influence here despite his intention to stay away. As if my thoughts were being answered Chief Inspector Raymond Styles entered the building.
“Is anything wrong? You seem distracted,” James asked.
“No nothing is wrong,” I assured him. “Would you excuse me for a moment, James I just want a word with the Chief Inspector.”
I strode over to Styles who acknowledged my presence but did not smile. “Do you have everything under control?” I asked him.
“I don’t but Smith does. I think it unlikely that you will be asked any difficult questions, Mr Coulson for the prosecutor is a colleague of Lester Bruitt,” Styles said in a confidential tone.
“In that case I do not know why we are having a trial at all.” I offered.
“We must be seen to go through the due process. We hope the trial, even though there will be a not guilty verdict, will help us to draw a line under the case.”
“Will you be giving evidence?” I asked.
“No, I am here as an observer for my colleague.”
“Smith,” I guessed.
He shrugged in acquiescence. “I think I will sit down on that bench over there for we still have a little time to wait for matters to get underway.” He strode away as if glad to get away from me.
I wondered how much the man knew. I looked at my watch. They would soon be opening the doors to the court and calling the people in and there was still no sign of Cassie. Five minutes later she arrived looking flushed and came straight over to me. “I thought I wasn’t going to get here in time for the start. I could not get a bus and had to run,” she explained.
“It looks like we are just about to start. When called you will go upstairs to the public viewing area but I cannot go with you for I have to go to the witness waiting room.”
“I see and so I won’t see you until the end of the day.”
“I am afraid not except possibly I might be able to see you when they adjourn for lunch.”
“Don’t forget this evening, Steve. I have something nice planned for you.”
I smiled.
“I look forward to that.”
A voice rang out around the lobby. “Witnesses please come this way.”
I looked around and saw the source of the officious words. I followed him across the lobby to two rooms. “Defence witnesses on the right and prosecution witnesses on the left please.”
I entered the door to the right and took a seat together with the barman, Pete Bannister. I now assumed he must actually own the bar. The other person who entered the room I assumed must be Mervyn Williams from the restaurant. We all sat in awkward silence, each of us with a newspaper to wait away the long day ahead of us.
It was Williams who broke the silence. “How long do you think we will have to wait?”
“I think the defendant will be questioned first and then perhaps you two, though it seems there are a couple of prosecution witnesses to fit in.”
“It is a funny business,” continued Williams who was now proving chatty while Bannister remained silent and appeared uncomfortable.
“How do you mean?” I asked.
“I merely have to tell them that the murdered man came into my restaurant for a meal with a woman. It is quite extraordinary that when I was showed the photo of the man I recognized him.”
“Why is that so surprising?” I asked.
“We have so many customers and I am not good at remembering faces. It is a miracle I remembered those two.”
“Why do you think you did?” I asked.
“That is easy, the woman tipped her dinner down my trouser leg and if it had not been for that accident I would never have remembered them. It is funny how fate plays a part.”
“It is indeed and what a fortuitous accident it was,” I smiled.
“Are we supposed to be speaking about the case?” he asked.
“No, I suppose not,” I replied not wishing to get into any further conversation with the chatterbox. In truth I had been thinking about Cassie frolicking on a Californian beach in one of those new bikini things that were becoming fashionable in America. I was finding it difficult to take my mind off her of late and I wanted to return to my pleasant thoughts and spectacular image though perhaps I should have been thinking of the trial.
“I am sorry, I did not realize,” he spluttered and buried himself once again in his newspaper.
Time passed and then Mervyn Williams received a summons to the court which left me in the room alone with Pete Bannister. “I am also sorry,” he said.
I looked up from my paper. “For what?” I asked.
“For going back on what I told you.”
“I expect you were threatened or bribed or both,” I offered.
“Yes, that was sort of it. Then the same man came back and said I could tell the truth after all.”
“No need to go into details Mr Bannister. I am sure the fir
st visit you received was not pleasant and so I do not blame you for retracting on what you told me. The main thing is that the truth is coming out now. I did not realize you were the owner of your establishment.”
“Yes, We’re a small crew, so I end up doing a lot of the day-to-day work.,” he said with a proud smile. “Will I be next?”
I nodded. “Yes I believe you should be next.”
He smiled and returned to his newspaper. It was not long before Williams returned to the room. “Have they finished with you? I asked him.
“I think so but they have told me to hang around just in case I am needed again.”
The minutes went by and then Pete was called. I looked at my watch. I imagined that after they had finished with Bannister they would adjourn for lunch. Another half an hour passed in silence before Bannister returned.
“How was it?” I asked.
“It was a much easier experience than I thought it would be,” he said.
“I thought the same,” said Williams finding his voice again.
“I think they are shortly going to call lunch. The judge said as I left the court the evidence had been most interesting so far but he for one was hungry.”
“When the judge is hungry then it is time for lunch,” I replied.
The door was opened and sandwiches were brought into the waiting room together with tea and coffee but we were told to remain where we were. While the door had been open I had heard the people trooping out of the court and returning to the lobby. I guessed that they would break for an hour and then it was likely that I would be called to the witness box.
I had to wait longer than I thought. Perhaps the prosecution witnesses had been cross examined next. Eventually I was collected by the court usher and escorted to the court room in the middle of the afternoon. I was directed from the foyer to the court passing by the barricaded entrance to the Grand Hall. The Central Criminal Court had been bombed during the war years and badly damaged. Parts of the imposing building were still undergoing repairs. “There is a lot of restoration work still being done, but the Grand Hall should be reopened next year,” the usher informed me as he followed my gaze.
I nodded with a polite smile before entering the courtroom, feeling confident after my conversation with Styles earlier in the day. I also wondered how things had been going and if Max Lucas was well on the way to becoming a free man. I looked up at the public gallery and saw among the faces Cassie Mitchell smiling down at me. I looked at the dock and saw a serious Max Lucas and tried to give him a reassuring nod.
I took my oath and tried to relax a little for I knew some of the questions may prove difficult if the prosecution was truly on the case.
James Butler stood up to conduct the defence. “For the benefit of the court will the witness please give his full name?”
“My name is Steven Charles Coulson.”
“Mr Coulson, in your own words, will you please describe your link with the defendant, Max Lucas, and how you became involved in the investigation?”
I took a deep breath. “I have a close friend by the name of Cassandra Mitchell who is a former girlfriend of the defendant. They had split up some time before the incident but she had got to know Max Lucas well enough to know he was incapable of murder.”
“That is an opinion,” interrupted the prosecution.
“An opinion by a person who knew Lucas well,” said James. The prosecutor seemed to accept this and sat down. “Please continue Mr Coulson,” James invited.
“Cassie knew that I worked for a legal company and so she asked for my help to prove his innocence. There was not really too much I could do except to question residents at the apartment block where the murder took place but one breakthrough I did make was to find a barman who remembered seeing the murdered man with a dark-haired woman just a few hours before Nesterman was murdered. This seemed to me to confirm the defendant’s story. I was now convinced myself of Lucas’s innocence.”
The prosecutor sighed but did not object so I continued. “Two weeks ago I had a phone call from a woman. She wished to speak with me about the Lucas case and said she wanted to pay me a visit. I agreed because I was intrigued by this mystery caller. She turned up at my house a few hours later and we went into my sitting room to talk. She told me her name was Smith and so obviously she did not intend to give me her real name. She matched the description that Lucas had given of the dark-haired woman in Nesterman’s apartment when he interrupted the robbery.”
“Is there anything else you can tell the court about this woman, Mr Coulson?”
“Not really, she was very secretive, and obviously with good reason, but she did have an accent.”
“What sort of accent?”
“She said it was German.” There was a gasp around the court. Feelings against the Germans still ran high even though the war had been over for some years. Jenna had been right and the jury would not let an English boy take the rap for a crime committed by a German woman. I also further realized at that moment why Mr Smith was so intent on keeping from the public that ex-Nazis were working for the British Government.
“Please continue Mr Coulson.”
“She told me she had murdered Nesterman and said that she had discovered I was conducting an investigation intended to clear Lucas, which is why she had come to me with her confession. She said that she could not let an innocent man hang for something she had done. She said his story was true. She had made her confession and she left my home.” There was a collective gasp around the court and at that moment I was certain the jury could not find Max Lucas guilty.
James took over and addressed the court. “The court should know that Mr Coulson is a man of outstanding character and if necessary I could call many witnesses to confirm this. He has worked for me for five years since the end of the war and has proved himself totally hard working and honest. He was in the navy during the war and his war service is exemplary and can be shown to the court if required. He is a man of substance and truth and there is no way such a man would mislead the court. He speaks the truth as do the witnesses Pete Bannister and Mervyn Williams. The dark-haired woman most certainly exists.” He turned to the prosecutor. “He is your witness.”
The prosecutor rose slowly and folded his arms. “Are you in a relationship with Cassandra Mitchell?”
“She is a friend but we have not yet moved beyond friendship.”
“She asked you to help her clear a previous boyfriend?”
“Yes, she believed he was innocent.”
“She would, no doubt, confirm that.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
“It seems strange to me that she would ask and you would agree to such a thing. Despite what my learned friend says, I still doubt that this mysterious woman exists.”
“I did not answer the door to a ghost,” I said.
“After her confession why did you not detain her and ring the police?”
“I could not apprehend her with one hand and ring the police with the other. To be honest I did not even think about detaining her for I was so surprised by the conversation I had just had.”
“So she just walked out of your home.”
“Yes, I am no policeman.”
“Did you report the incident to the police?”
“The next day I went to Charing Cross Police Station and reported the incident in full to a Sergeant Barrow who told me he would hand the details to Chief Inspector Raymond Styles who would then contact me. He never contacted me and I do not know what action the police took.” I was aware that this prosecutor was not doing his job properly. He had been got at by Smith or Bruitt or perhaps both. The judge was also growing restless as the prosecution’s questions were leading nowhere.
“I have no more questions,” said the prosecutor, seeming to despair of the situation.
The judge then spoke. “The witness will leave the stand. The gallery will empty and the court will be adjourned for a short time. Could the prosecution and the defence remain
here for we need to speak.” I was led from the court as the gallery began to empty. It would be unusual but I had a feeling that proceedings were about to be terminated.
I returned to the witness waiting room where Mervyn Williams and Pete Bannister were still waiting patiently.
“How did it go?” asked Mervyn.
“I think that because of the three of us it might be all over,” I offered.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, I think we all gave evidence to prove the existence of the dark-haired woman. Once she exists then the case of the prosecution falls apart.”
“Thank God for that,” said Bannister. “It has seemed like a very long day just hanging around waiting for most of the time.”
I nodded agreement and sat down. We still had a further wait before the usher opened the door. “You can go home unless you want to hear the verdict. The judge is about to make a pronouncement. If you wish to hear you can go to the public gallery.”
I hurried towards the gallery followed closely by Williams and Bannister. They had both decided that they had got this far so they may as well hear the verdict. We joined on the back of the queue entering the gallery. I sat at the near end of the gallery next to Mervyn Williams and I could see Cassie at the far side of the gallery. She waved and I waved back.
James was sitting at the bench next to Jenny and Max Lucas was being brought to the stand. A few seconds past and everything seemed to be in order. We were all now waiting for the judge to say his piece.
More seconds passed by and then the judge cleared his throat and began to speak. “The Crown Court has reached a decision on the case relating to the defendant, Max Lucas. I have listened with great interest to the evidence presented by the defence and the prosecution. I have decided to bring matters to a conclusion because there is little evidence that the stated crime has been committed by the defendant. It is true that he was found in the room of the deceased holding the weapon. There is no evidence to support the fact that he had used the weapon. In fact, what evidence there is shows clearly that he was not alone in the room and that evidence supports his story of what occurred that fateful night at Russell Square. The evidence against Mr Lucas is of such a tenuous nature that the case against him is therefore inherently weak. I have no alternative but to rule that a jury decision is not needed and the defendant has no case to answer. Mr Lucas is a free man and the court is dismissed.”
