“But you’ve been suggesting my brother’s guilty of smuggling drugs.”
“I have made no such concrete allegation.”
“He is completely innocent.”
Young leaned back in his chair and stared at Ralph, an expression of quiet contempt on his face. “When it suits you, you lawyers talk about innocence in hushed, reverent tones. But it means something quite different to you than it does to me. In this case, to me innocence means not guilty of any criminal act. To you, it means guilty by admission of an attempt to evade Common Market tax regulations.”
“You know quite well what I meant by my use of the word. My brother is completely innocent of knowingly smuggling into this country whatever was in the container found in the Mercedes.”
“Knowing is the key word, isn’t it?”
“Obviously. So are you investigating all the surrounding circumstances, which must prove he had no knowledge?”
“I am investigating all the surrounding circumstances.”
“Have you found out who owned the Mercedes when it was driven over to the Continent in the first instance?”
“We know who owned it before it was stolen from a car park in south Ruislip on the seventeenth of June. The man concerned has convinced us he can’t help our investigations in any way.”
“Have the Spanish police questioned Evans?”
“He left the flat the day after your brother drove away from Cala Survas. No further trace of him has been found.”
“Has the manager of the motel in Lençon been questioned about the booking?”
“It was made by telephone. The registration of a second cabin was in the name of Mr and Mrs Bressonaud. The address given by them has proved to be false.”
“Did the manager give a description of this couple?”
“He was unable to remember them.”
“He must have remembered something about them.”
“Not necessarily. I understand it’s a very busy motel during the season.”
Ralph became silent. Young asked if there were anything more he’d like to know and he answered that there was one more question. Had the traces found in the container yet been analysed?
“I’m afraid not. I’ve asked the lab boys to hurry things along, but they’re under a lot of pressure.”
As, five minutes later, they walked down the spiral ramp to the road, Ralph said, as optimistically as he could: “We may have gained a very useful point, Angus. The police didn’t see anyone entering or leaving your cabin at the Newingreen motel. So how could you have passed on the contents of that container?”
“The superintendent admitted they weren’t keeping a proper watch part of the night.”
“Quite. But on top of the point I made at the time, the moment the police can be shown to have been inefficient in any way, a jury begins to wonder how much credence to put in the rest of the police’s case.”
“You think they’ll arrest me?”
They came to a halt on the edge of the pavement as they waited for the traffic to ease sufficiently to let them cross the road.
“Well?” demanded Sterne.
“It all depends on the analysis of the traces.”
*
Young and Meacher arrived at Parsonage Farm at eleven-fifteen on Wednesday morning. They informed Sterne that the results of the analysis showed the container had contained heroin, of a 99.5% purity. They arrested him and drove him to divisional HQ where he was taken to the charge room and charged.
Chapter 12
The preliminary hearing was held on August 2nd. The case for the prosecution was outlined, prosecution witnesses gave their evidence, were in some cases briefly cross-examined, then were asked to read through their statements and sign them. The eminent QC whom Ralph had briefed for the defence rose to announce, as expected, that the defence reserved their case.
Sterne was committed for trial. The QC asked for bail. The police objected on the grounds that there was reason for believing the accused might try to go abroad to escape trial. The magistrates briefly conferred among themselves and then the chairman said that bail would be allowed on condition that there were two sureties for £10,000 each and the accused surrendered his passport to the police.
*
Sterne stared out of the opened bedroom window. Everything had changed, yet nothing had changed. He was accused of knowingly smuggling an unknown quantity of heroin into the country and it appeared inevitable he must be found guilty of a crime he had not committed: yet the sun still shone, the trees still stirred to the lazy breeze, and swallows still skimmed overhead.
He gripped his fists until the nails dug into his flesh. Goddamn it, he hadn’t known about that container so he couldn’t be found guilty of knowingly smuggling… Yet he’d already learned that innocence and guilt were an interpretation, not immutable…
Somewhere there had to be proof of his innocence. Yet where? Ralph and his counsel had studied the case for hours, searching for a lead that would help to prove his innocence, and they had found nothing beyond the fact that the police at the Newingreen motel had seen no one enter or leave his cabin. And although Ralph claimed that the admitted slackness of the watchers helped the defence’s case, it was obvious it could be argued that it also tended to bolster the prosecution’s because now there was no proof that someone had not entered cabin 51 to take delivery…
If only Evans could be traced. But Evans had disappeared and any description would be quite useless because around the Mediterranean — was he still in that region? — such a description could fit hundreds of men. What about the woman in the Lençon motel? He’d spoken to her for no more than a few minutes and had learned only that she was as dour as only a charmless, serious, middle-aged woman could be. And from that moment he’d had no further contact with the people who’d organised the running of the car. In fact, apart from Belinda he’d spoken to practically no one…
His mind drifted. Ostensibly, Belinda had taken him to the secret gorge to show him how beautiful it was. But it had quickly become clear that it had really been because she had been seeking spiritual healing and reassurance. In this, she’d failed. And when he’d tried to arrange a further meeting, she’d refused to commit herself, even refused to give her address… He remembered how she’d looked, at once self-assured and vulnerable, as she’d stood on the pavement and promised to get in touch with him if she felt she wanted to: and so obviously uncertain that she ever would and so embarrassed that she’d abruptly changed the conversation and made small talk about some English car which had just come round the sharp bend… The car? He’d looked briefly at it and momentarily it had seemed as if the two men had been surprised by something. Beyond that brief thought, he’d dismissed them and the car from his mind. There’d been no reason for not doing so. Even though she’d remarked that that was the third time they’d seen the car during the day and each time it had been travelling in the opposite direction to them… But he knew now that the Mercedes had had hidden about it heroin with a street value of between a third and half a million pounds. Wasn’t it reasonable to suppose that those who’d planted this fortune would have wanted to check he was obeying their orders? And hadn’t the woman in the restaurant told him to cross the Channel on the Sunday evening, which had meant a good, steady drive so he’d have been expected to leave the motel as soon as he’d finished his breakfast. But he hadn’t. And when he had left, he’d had with him Belinda… So they’d have kept a very much closer check on him. And without warning he’d turned round and headed back the way he’d come. For them, this must have been panic stations. And then they’d lost him completely. They must have become convinced they’d been double-crossed. But abruptly, as they’d frantically searched this way and that, they’d passed through Vertagne, rounded the last bend in the village, and come on the Mercedes…
Excitement seemed to tingle in his throat. Identify the car and there was a lead to the people running the drug-smuggling. It had been a dark blue Rover, almost ne
w. There must be thousands of such Rovers. But Belinda had said its registration letters were the same as her initials…
*
Ralph and Sterne were shown to the interview room by a uniform sergeant who looked as if he’d seen most of what the world had to offer and didn’t like any of it.
Young and a second man were standing, a woman sat at the table, notebook open and pen by its side.
“This is Detective-Inspector Parker,” said Young. His voice was sharp, his words clipped. “Mrs Raight is present to take a full record of everything that is said.”
She had already begun to write in shorthand.
“Since you, Mr Angus Sterne, have been committed to trial, this request for an interview is a most unusual one. The only reason it’s been granted is that in the letter it was stated that the matter was of vital importance.”
“It is,” said Ralph.
“Very well.”
Young and Parker sat to the right of Mrs Raight, Ralph and Sterne opposite. Ralph opened his briefcase and brought out some papers. “My brother has remembered something which should enable you to identify some of the people who are responsible for planting the container on the Mercedes.”
Briefly, Sterne told them about the dark blue Rover. Young said: “Am I correct if I say that the sum total of your evidence is that your companion claims to have seen the same car three times, each time heading in an opposite direction to yours, and that on the third occasion you also saw it and it was your impression that the two men in it were unusually interested in you?”
“And the more I think about it, the more certain I am that they’d come round that corner quickly because they were in one hell of a hurry and when they saw the Mercedes the driver instinctively braked, as one would in such circumstances.”
“Suppose you are right in all your suppositions — what steps do you expect us to take?”
“What steps? Trace the car, of course.”
“You have its number?”
“I’ve told you, only the letters B and B.”
“On such scant …”
“Belinda kept noticing the car because its registration letters were the same as her initials. Find out her initials and then it can’t be too difficult. I realise that still leaves nine hundred and ninety-nine possibilities, but how many of those are going to be dark blue Rovers?”
“You said, find out her initials — do you not know them?”
“I only know her as Belinda Backman.”
“Very well. What is her address?”
“I don’t know.”
“For God’s sake…” Young cut the words short. He looked at Mrs Raight as if wondering whether she’d omit his quick outburst, but as her pen came to a stop he remained silent.
“I’ve been working things out,” said Sterne urgently. “She wanted to be put down in Vertagne. She hadn’t a penny on her, because she’d lost her handbag along with everything else, so I tried to give her some money but all she’d take were two francs to make a phone call. That means she was near enough to home for two francs, or less, to pay for the call.”
“If the French system is like the British one, two francs could reach a relatively long way for a short time. Who is there at her home?”
“Her mother and stepfather.”
“Is either of them French?”
“Her stepfather is.”
“Then the telephone will be listed under the stepfather’s French name and there’ll be no way of using a directory to work out possible numbers.”
“It’s a case of asking people in the area if they know of a family where a Frenchman is married to an Englishwoman who has a daughter of twenty-three. Foreigners always gain a kind of notoriety.”
“And over how large an area are these inquiries going to have to be made?”
“I’m quite certain she lives near Vertagne because she said that she often went to the gorge.”
“Presumably she has the use of a car?”
“I imagine so. But can’t you understand…”
“Perhaps it will be best if I explain something. Before I am permitted to forward a request for a foreign police force to carry out inquiries on my behalf, I have to satisfy others that my request is justified by its nature and the facts, and that in practical terms it is fully warranted.”
“It’s a fact that the two men in the blue Rover were very surprised to see us.”
“It’s an assumption. Even were it more, the work involved in making the search would be such that I’d still not be entitled to ask for it to be undertaken when the only details I can provide are that the lady’s name is Belinda Backman and she asked you to drop her in a village called Vertagne.”
“I’ve said why she must live locally…”
“I have to provide the facts, not still more assumptions. And there is yet one more point that needs to be made. Even if this young lady were identified and through her evidence the blue Rover were traced, and even if it turned out to belong to someone who’s known to be connected with drug trafficking, these facts would not of themselves establish your innocence of the offence with which you are charged. Your brother will be able to explain the meaning of the term ‘knowingly’ far more accurately than I: it is with knowingly importing a listed drug that you are charged.”
Young waited a moment; when it was clear nothing more was going to be said, he stood.
Sterne stared up at him. “What is it?” he demanded bitterly. “You won’t do anything because you’re worried Belinda might help me prove my innocence?”
Young’s expression became one of contempt.
*
They sat out on the lawn, in the sunshine, around a glass-topped cane table on which were a plate of thinly cut tomato sandwiches, a chocolate layer cake, cups and saucers, a china teapot, and silver milk jug and bowl.
The more Angela’s way of life was threatened, the harder she clung to it.
“Can’t you make them understand how terribly important it is to trace Belinda?” she asked.
“God knows, we’ve tried,” replied Sterne. “They just wouldn’t listen.”
Ralph, who’d been staring at the ancient Bramley tree, said: “You’ve got to look at things from their point of view.”
“Why? I’m the bloke in the shit. Look at things from my point of view.”
“Young’s bound by rules and regulations.”
“Stuff ’em.”
“When you start talking like that, you’re throwing all sense of law and order out of the window.”
“Christ, you’re preaching when I’m half an inch away from prison?”
Ralph was hurt by those words. “All I’m trying to do is explain why he couldn’t help you… Do you understand the last point he made? That even if the men behind the smuggling are identified through you that doesn’t automatically prove you’re innocent.”
“If I help to identify them, isn’t it goddamn obvious I’m innocent?”
“What is obvious to a policeman is that you may have helped to identify them in order to try to gain a lighter sentence.”
“You think…”
“I’m explaining the way their minds work. You’ve been charged with knowingly importing a prohibited drug. If the circumstances prove that you must have been aware beyond all reasonable doubt that heroin was hidden in the Mercedes, you’re guilty. The fact that you’ve helped the police identify the man who persuaded you to smuggle will count towards mitigation of sentence, nothing more.”
“Just remind me. Are you for the prosecution or the defence?”
Angela said: “I know it’s terribly difficult for you, Angus, but I promise you Ralph is doing everything in his power to help you.” She turned to her husband. “Can you make it a bit clearer for me? If Belinda can be found and what she says identifies the men behind the smuggling, at the very least that will help Angus get a lesser sentence?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose that because they were identified something then went on to sho
w Angus couldn’t have known about the container — wouldn’t that prove him innocent?”
Ralph hesitated, looked at his brother, then said quietly: “If they’re identified and arrested and they realise it’s because of Angus, they’ll do everything they can to hurt him. That means they’ll swear blind he knew he was carrying the container and what was in it.”
“Oh! But surely it might just happen in a way that they couldn’t do that?”
“I… I suppose it might.”
“Then obviously Belinda must be found.”
“Angie, I told you, the police said that they’re not in a position to ask the French police to look for her. There’s nothing that can be done.”
“Yes, there is. Angus can go to France and find her.” Ralph stared at her, his expression now one of exasperation. “You haven’t really understood. Angus is on bail and one of the specific conditions of that bail is that he doesn’t leave the country.”
“Do conditions like that really count when an innocent man’s in danger of being convicted?”
“Of course they do. If Angus is to prove his innocence, he must do so legally — which means, in the courts.”
“And how can he, if he’s not allowed to find Belinda? What are you really saying — that observance of form is more important than the providing of justice? Or is it that if the form has been honoured there can, in the eyes of the law, be no injustice?”
He shook his head in further bewilderment. If Angus had argued like this, he would not have been surprised, but that she should…
“Ralph, you’re far too sensible not to realise that there must be times when one cannot live by the law if there’s to be justice.”
“Who decides when such time has come?”
“It’s an individual decision.”
“Made subjectively, therefore biased.”
“I don’t care how biased. Angus has to go to France to find Belinda since the police won’t.”
“If he leaves this country he’ll virtually forfeit any chance of proving his innocence… Look, I’ve briefed Reynolds. He’s the best man at the bar for this sort of a case.”
Presumption of Guilt Page 9
