‘Perhaps.’
‘And the explanation you offer the jury is that the diarist, when he wrote that, was ill and got it wrong?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, the jury has heard your explanation. They will make up their own minds.’ Mordecai pushed his wig back from his forehead; then pulled it down again. It was still askew. He went on, ‘Had you made any money when you were in business?’
‘I told you. Some.’
‘More than you got out of politics?’
‘Of course. I say once again, I never got anything out of politics. When I was a minister I had my salary and I had a few private investments from what I had saved when I was in business. Basically I lived off my salary. I did not need much. I have no family.’
‘None?’
‘No. I have no family alive.’
‘Do you own any property?’
‘No. I have a flat in Chelsea, in Consul Road, a ground-floor flat in quite a large house that I hold on a seven-year lease. There are three years of the lease to run.’
‘Do you own property abroad?’
‘No.’
‘The day you resigned from the government you left this country and went to reside in France?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I wished to.’
‘For eighteen months you lived at La Ferme Blanche near to Pontaix in the Alpes Dauphiné Massif, isn’t that so?’
‘It is.’
‘With a Madame Turville?’
‘Madame Turville lives there. I was a guest.’
‘Of hers? Is she the owner of La Ferme Blanche?’
‘No.’
‘Who, then, is?’
‘I believe the property is in the name of some local avocat. The real owner is a friend of mine.’ Tancred paused. Then he said slowly and emphatically, ‘Mr Harry Cheung.’
When he said the name Digby Price, who had earlier been shifting about in his seat, grinning happily and nudging Oliver Goodbody, suddenly looked up at Tancred, startled.
‘Mr Cheung lives in Hong Kong,’ Tancred added.
‘Then let me ask you about this gentleman, the real owner of the place where you have been hiding out,’ Mordecai went on.
Tancred looked down directly at Price. ‘Mr Price will know that name. Mr Harry Cheung from Hong Kong. Cheung.’
Mordecai was bent over the documents on his desk. When Tancred repeated the name, Price half rose from his seat and turned to Mordecai.
‘What is it?’ Mordecai asked.
‘Don’t go into this,’ Price said. ‘Not until I’ve made a check.’
‘Why?’ Mordecai lowered his voice so that neither the judge nor the jury, nor Patrick Foxley to his left could hear.
‘Leave it until I’ve checked it out,’ Price repeated. ‘I don’t want her brought into this.’
‘Her? Who is “her”?’
The two were facing each other, Price with his back to the judge. ‘Move on to the money,’ he said.
‘You instructed me to ask about the woman he was living with in France. You insisted I should.’
‘Not now, not until I’ve checked. Move on to the money,’ Price repeated.
The whole court was witnessing, even if they could not hear, the exchange between Mordecai and Price who was still standing facing his counsel with his back to the judge. People in the gallery had stood and craned over the rail to see what was happening. A noise had arisen in the court, a hubbub, like the sound of the sea.
The judge tapped with his pencil. ‘Mr Ledbury. We are waiting. Are you going on with your cross-examination?’
‘I am taking instructions,’ Mordecai replied abruptly. He motioned to Price to resume his seat. Then he shuffled some of the papers in front of him, swung round and looked ostentatiously at the clock at the side of the court. He turned back to the judge and said more politely than he had when he had addressed the bench before, ‘It’s approaching the time for the adjournment and I wonder if Your Lordship would oblige me by rising for the day now? It is only a few minutes before the normal time but I need to speak further with my client.’
The judge remained silent, staring fixedly at Mordecai. Why should I help him? he thought. He comes on all polite because for some reason he’s suddenly in trouble. ‘We mustn’t waste the jury’s time, Mr Ledbury,’ he said. ‘We must stick to the hours laid down for the sitting of the court.’
‘I appreciate that, my Lord, but I believe that if I can have an unhurried talk with my client, in the end it will save time.’
‘Can’t you move on to another part of your cross-examination? The witness had just mentioned the name of the owner of the farmhouse in France, a gentleman from Hong Kong.’ He looked down at his note. ‘A Mr Harry Cheung.’ He was pleased to repeat the name that had for some reason led to the scene between Ledbury and his client. ‘Is it about that you want to take instructions?’
‘It is, My Lord.’
The judge looked at the clock. There were less than three minutes before the regular time for adjourning. It wasn’t worth having more of a row, but he’d make Ledbury pay. ‘Very well,’ he said slowly, making obvious his reluctance. ‘I shall rise now but I shall sit tomorrow morning five minutes earlier, at ten twenty-five, to make up the time lost because of your request for an early adjournment.’
Mordecai bowed, this time more politely than the perfunctory nod of the head with which he had saluted the judge at the start of the case.
Jack Traynor turned to the jury. ‘Remember what I told you when we broke for your dinner. Don’t chat about the case with anyone, even with the family when you get home. It won’t be easy but please try.’ He paused. ‘Just have a quiet evening in front of the telly.’ He smiled at them, the smile of the genial man of the world, the impartial arbiter taking his fellow arbiters into his confidence. ‘An earlier start, then, tomorrow morning because of Mr Ledbury. Be in your places, please, at ten twenty for a ten twenty-five start.’ He turned to Tancred. ‘You’re under cross-examination, Mr Tancred, so you too must keep mum.’ Another grin at the jury, and he rose from the bench and disappeared through the door behind his chair.
The jury, mystified, filed from the jury box and out of the court. ‘What was that about?’ the middle-aged jurywoman asked the pugnacious juryman when they were in the corridor.
‘Lawyers’ fiddles,’ he replied. ‘Ten minutes earlier tomorrow. Bloody lawyers.’
In his room, Jack Traynor’s clerk helped him off with his robes. ‘Polite, all of a sudden, weren’t we?’ the judge said. ‘Quite a different Mister Ledbury, eh?’
‘He certainly wanted you to rise, My Lord,’ the clerk answered, putting the judge’s wig in its box.
‘Ay, his client got excited over the name of the Chinaman from Hong Kong. I was tempted to tell Ledbury to get on with it but then I thought that as there was only five minutes to go I’d accommodate the fellow.’ He sat at his desk. ‘I enjoyed the bow!’
In the conference room Mordecai confronted Price. ‘By that interruption you succeeded in ruining what up to then had been a pretty good session.’ Walter, Oliver, Spenser and Waite were assembled by the door. ‘What the devil was all that about?’
‘Cheung is Madame Helena’s family name,’ muttered Spenser.
‘What of it?’ asked Mordecai. ‘Is it an uncommon name?’
‘I didn’t want you to go into it until I’ve checked if there’s a connection,’ Price said. ‘That’s all. I don’t want her involved.’
‘All Tancred has said is that the farmhouse is owned by a Harry Cheung.’
‘He said I’d know the name. He was getting at something, I know he was.’
‘Who is Madame Turville?’ enquired Mordecai.
‘His woman, I suppose. But keep off Cheung until I know. I’ll find out tonight,’ repeated Price.
‘Tancred only threw it out to trick us, to startle Mr Price,’ said Spenser.
‘That’s right. Move on to the Sleavens’ mo
ney. That’s what we want to get to,’ Price insisted.
Mordecai looked at him steadily, then got to his feet. ‘You’ve done your best with your antics to ruin the end of a not unsuccessful day. The jury will have seen you get excited. They’ll want to know why. It’s never wise to leave unanswered questions in the mind of a jury.’ He moved towards the door. ‘I’ll see you all here tomorrow morning before court. Ten o‘clock.’ He turned to Walter and Oliver. ‘You two. In chambers in half an hour.’ When they had gone he began his slow process to the robing room.
In the taxi back to the Temple Mordecai looked out of the window. Adam heard him mutter to himself, ‘Cheung. Why did he bring up that name?’
Anna shared a taxi from the Law Courts with Emerald and Sybil.
‘What did you think?’ Sybil asked.
‘I thought Mordecai Ledbury was horrid,’ Emerald replied. ‘I can’t think why Patrick didn’t stop him from asking all those nasty questions and making those wicked suggestions.’
‘Perhaps he’s not allowed to,’ said Anna.
‘What was going on at the end?’ Sybil wondered.
‘It was when Tancred spoke that Chinese name,’ Anna replied.
‘Price has a Chinese woman in Paris. Before her it was a tart from Budapest. He collects tarts. This one is the latest.’
‘It wasn’t as I expected.’ Sybil looked out of the window of the taxi. ‘Court, I mean. I don’t think I liked it very much.’
‘Won’t you come tomorrow?’ Emerald wanted to know.
‘Oh, I couldn’t miss it but I didn’t really enjoy it. Not this afternoon with Mordecai being so horrid.’ They arranged to meet at Patrick’s chambers again the next morning.
Patrick was in his chambers with Ian French and Cranley Burrows, none of them looking particularly happy. Cranley said that a difficult day had at least ended with some embarrassment for Mordecai.
‘Yes,’ Patrick agreed. ‘Thank God for Price’s interruption. It had been pretty rough before. That visit to Sebastian Sleaven which he never told us about!’ He got up and wandered to the window, leaning on the wall and looking down at the Temple garden. ‘What was he up to, going to see Sebastian Sleaven?’ he muttered almost to himself. He turned back to the others. ‘And why the hell won’t he take us into his confidence?’
‘He never has and he never will,’ said Cranley. ‘And there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘Perhaps he really has nothing convincing to say,’ suggested French gloomily. ‘Perhaps he gambled because he thought they wouldn’t be able to come up with proof. That’s what’s being said in the Temple. The documents, Sleaven’s suicide and the visit to Sebastian Sleaven.’ He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t look good.’
In the Cabinet Room at Downing Street the Prime Minister said to Alan Prentice, ‘I see that the Tancred case has started in the High Court.’
Alan smiled. ‘So you’ve been reading the evening paper, Prime Minister? You’re not meant to read the newspapers.’
‘Just a glance. Only on this special occasion. How is it going?’ He knew that Prentice had sent a junior secretary to attend and report.
‘Not very well for the former Minister, I understand. He is being cross-examined by Mordecai Ledbury. There was an incident at the end with Price talking to Ledbury and the court adjourned early.’
‘Price was there?’ the Prime Minister mused. ‘Of course. He had to be there. Such a very disagreeable man.’
‘There’s been a message from your constituency office, Prime Minister,’ Prentice said.
‘From Aidan Wills?’
‘From Mrs Wills, actually.’
‘On behalf of Mr Wills, I suppose.’ The Prime Minister got to his feet. ‘I’ll return the call from the flat upstairs.’
Alan Prentice watched him shuffle out of the room to the stairs. He’s suddenly looking much older, he thought. Four years as Prime Minister and for all his pretence of being above it he keeps his finger on every pulse in government. The strain is beginning to tell. And he’s too conscientious about his constituency. No wonder he looks all in.
Later in the evening Price at last got through to Helena in Paris on the telephone. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you since five o’clock.’
‘I told you to call at eleven.’
‘I know but this was urgent. Where’ve you been?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been to the movies as I told you I would and—’
‘Who did you go with?’
She laughed, a seductive, mocking laugh. ‘A handsome young man, half your age.’ She laughed again. ‘Whom do you think? By myself, of course. Don’t you believe me?’
‘I suppose so,’ he grumbled. ‘I miss you.’
‘I hope you do. How did the afternoon go? You sound rather agitated.’
‘Something came up at the end of the day. Until then it was going all right. I have to ask you. Who is Harry Cheung?’
‘Harry Cheung? I’ve never heard of him. Why?’
‘Tancred brought it up in court at the end of the day. It gave me a shock. He went out of his way to say I’d know the name.’
‘Of course you know the name. It’s my name, isn’t it?’
‘I know that. But do you know a Harry Cheung?’
‘No, I don’t. But Cheung’s quite a common name in Hong Kong. I’ve never heard of a Harry Cheung.’
‘No one in your family?’
‘No, certainly not.’
‘No connection to you?’
‘I said. I’ve never heard of a Harry Cheung. Why are you going on about it?’
‘I had to check. I don’t want you involved.’
‘Because someone has the same name you think I’d be involved? I’m not involved and I won’t be. The only way I am involved is in pleasing you. Don’t worry about me.’
‘I can’t help worrying about you. So there’s no connection? ’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I had to check. I suppose it was just one of his tricks, trying to get at me through you, or rather through your name.’
‘That’s absurd. If he really tried to do that, he must be getting desperate.’
‘He is. He’s in trouble and he knows it.’
‘I’m glad,’ she said simply.
There was a pause. ‘I do miss you,’ he repeated. ‘I wish you were here with me.’
‘Among the beastly English? No, thank you. I’m better here. What stage in the trial have you reached?’
‘He’s being cross-examined. And being knocked about. And we haven’t even got on to the money yet, not touched the details nor the documents. That’ll come tomorrow. That’s when he’ll be finished. He won’t be able to get out of that.’
‘When will it be over?’
‘Oh, some time yet, but we’ll know what’s going to happen by tomorrow evening when he’s confronted with the money. Perhaps the day after. In effect, it should be all over by then.’
‘Let me know how it goes. But I shall be at the movies tomorrow.’
‘Again?’
‘I like the movies. What else have I to do? You’re having all the fun.’
‘Then come and join me.’
‘Certainly not. I’m not coming near that horrid country. Good luck, my darling.’
He heard her laugh as she replaced the receiver.
Tancred had returned to his flat in Consul Road. He made himself some coffee and drank it black. From a locked briefcase he took a thick, heavy ledger and various documents. He began to make entries in the ledger, extracting figures from the documents. At half past seven the bell rang and he opened the door to Elspeth Turville. Even though Burrows had warned him. After all, she might be a witness.
Chapter Five
Half an hour before the start of the second day of the trial the News Universal team met in the conference room. Mordecai was again at the small table, Walter Morrison behind him. Oliver Goodbody led in Price, Spenser and Waite. Price flung himself into a chair opposite Mordeca
i, thrust out his legs and buried his hands deep in his trouser pockets.
‘The Chinese name, yesterday afternoon—’ Mordecai began.
Price interrupted, waving a hand, ‘Forget it. I shouldn’t have let it get to me but hearing it in court gave me a jolt. Not to worry about it. Just leave it. Move on to the money.’
‘In my experience,’ Waite said, ‘juries always enjoy hearing about money.’ He chuckled. Mordecai glared at him. Waite stopped chuckling and looked away.
Mordecai turned back to Price. ‘He must have had some reason for mentioning that name.’
‘It was just an offhand—’
‘Nothing that man says or does is offhand,’ Mordecai growled.
‘Then let’s hear what he has to say about the money. He can’t be offhand about that. Let’s hear how he explains the money.’
Mordecai said, ‘He threw out that name yesterday afternoon quite deliberately.’
‘Of course he did. He must have discovered that my friend in Paris has the same name and he was trying to rattle me. He did it to get at me – to get himself out of the hole you’d got him into.’
Mordecai looked at Oliver Goodbody, who looked away.
Price got to his feet. ‘I didn’t like the name of my friend being brought up in court, that’s all. But I’ve checked it out. It’s not in any way connected with her. So for God’s sake, man, leave the name alone.’
Before Mordecai could reply Spenser said hastily, ‘He can’t deny about the money.’
‘I don’t expect him to,’ Mordecai replied.
‘We know about the money,’ said Waite, ‘because we’ve seen the documents. So has the judge. But the jury hasn’t. When they see those documents they won’t like it. They won’t like it at all.’
Price strode towards the door. ‘All you have to do is to make the jury understand that he took money from the bugger and that the bugger has shot himself. That’s enough, isn’t it?’ He opened the door. ‘I’m going into court.’
Oliver Goodbody, who had remained silent throughout the meeting, followed Spenser and Waite from the room, leaving Walter alone with Mordecai. When the door had closed behind them Mordecai picked up his sticks and gathered himself together for his entrance into the court.
The Richmond Diary Page 21
