by Peter Murphy
‘I know how much your grandfather means to you,’ she said, after some time. ‘You talked about him that time we had dinner after you took me to see West Ham.’
‘He has always been the one who believed in me most, the one who was most on my side,’ he replied, after some time. ‘It’s not that I’m not close to my parents. I am. We are a close family – probably too much so, in some ways – and I love them all. But, I don’t know, sometimes it seems easier to talk to grandparents than it is to your parents. It’s always been that way for me.’
‘They don’t have the main responsibility for bringing you up,’ Jess said. ‘It gives them a little space to stand back and see who you really are.’
‘Yes,’ Ben agreed. ‘They don’t have to worry about you quite as much, so perhaps they are free to start treating you as an adult before your parents can. I wouldn’t be at the Bar but for his support.’
He sat back in his seat and was silent for some time.
‘I don’t know what I will do if he dies, Jess,’ he said. ‘And with everything that is going on…’
She shook her head.
‘You can’t think about that,’ she insisted. ‘Nobody has said he is going to die. We just know that he is not well and you are going to visit him in hospital. Let’s just concentrate on one thing at a time.’
It was almost an hour before they spoke again, as they were driving through the northern suburbs of London.
‘I’ve never learned to drive,’ Ben said suddenly. ‘I never saw the point, living in London. It’s so easy to get around on public transport. Do you think I should?’
‘If you’re going to practise in places like Huntingdonshire, it might be a useful skill to have,’ she smiled. ‘Why don’t you find where we are on the map? It’s not much farther to the North Circular, and then you are going to have to navigate for me.’
Despite everything that was weighing on his mind, Ben’s navigation was flawless. Jess brought the Rover to rest outside the Schroeder family home in Brady Street at just after 8.30. He knocked at the door. His mother, Ruth, answered. She was dressed to go out, in a blouse and skirt, but she had obviously been keeping herself busy – she wore an apron over them and there were spots of water on it. She had been crying and, as she hugged Ben, the tears returned.
‘There’s no more news,’ she said. ‘Your father and your Uncle Eli are at the hospital. I was there earlier, and I said I would go back later, so that there is always someone there. They are still assessing him. The doctor said they don’t want to operate if they can avoid it. At his age, that could be very dangerous, they said. So they are treating him with something, and keeping him under observation. We haven’t been able to see him yet…’
She stopped suddenly as she noticed Jess and the car.
‘Mother, this is Jess Farrar,’ Ben said. ‘We are working together on the murder case up in Huntingdon. Jess offered to drive me when they gave me your message at the hotel.’
Ruth dried her eyes.
‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said. ‘Please come in. I am sure you could do with a cup of tea after your journey.’
She closed the door behind them as they entered.
‘The hospital is just around the corner, as Ben knows. They will call if anything happens, so there is no need to rush round there, is there?’
She ushered them into the living room.
‘Have a seat, please, and I will make some tea.’
She disappeared into the kitchen.
Jess sat next to Ben on the large sofa and took in the homely clutter, the books and the family pictures, the pieces of kitsch everywhere, crammed into the smallest spaces; a home, she thought, never to be moved from – there would be far too much to undo, far too much to sort out, too much of too many lives ever to transplant anywhere else. She heard a soft sob from the kitchen. She touched Ben’s hand, stood, and made her way towards the sound.
‘Can I do anything to help?’ she asked.
‘No, thank you, my dear,’ Ruth replied with a sniffle. ‘It’s all under control. The kettle will boil in a minute… well, you could get the biscuits for me, if you don’t mind. They are in the pantry in the corner, and there are plates in that cupboard on the left.’
‘Of course,’ Jess said.
As she placed the biscuits and plates on the kitchen table, Ruth filled the tea pot from the boiling kettle. She turned towards Jess.
‘I was here when it happened,’ she said quietly. ‘He was sitting there at the kitchen table, having his coffee, as he always does after lunch. And he just dropped his cup. I heard it break on the floor. I had my back to him, so I was asking him what he was doing, and that’s when I saw he had slumped to the floor, and there was coffee and bits of china everywhere. It happened just like that. I didn’t have anyone else at home. David and Eli were at the shop and, of course, Ben’s brother and sister were at school. So I had to call for the ambulance and go with him…’
Her voice trailed away. Impulsively, Jess walked over to Ruth and pulled her into a hug.
‘It’s all right, Mrs Schroeder,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it is going to be all right. He is in the best place and they are looking after him.’
Suddenly, Ruth pulled away slightly, but only enough to allow her to look directly into Jess’s face.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ she said. She paused, pulling herself together.
‘So, you work with Ben, do you?’ she asked, after a few moments. ‘Are you a barrister?’
Unaccountably, Jess felt herself blush as her eyes met Ruth’s.
‘No. No. I work for Bourne & Davis. We are the solicitors instructing Ben in this case.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘So, of course, we worked together before the trial, and we have to attend the trial as well,’ she heard herself add, quite unnecessarily.
Ruth smiled as she moved gently away and picked up the tea tray.
‘Well. That must be very interesting… Do you mind bringing the biscuits?’
47
The London Hospital was quiet when they arrived. Parts of it seemed deserted as they made their way, following the instructions provided by the nurse at the reception desk, to the intensive care ward in which Joshua Schroeder lay. Ruth had accompanied Ben and Jess in the car. Her husband had been keeping vigil ever since the ambulance had brought his father to the hospital. Ruth intended to persuade him to return home to sleep for a while, to let her take over the waiting if there was no immediate crisis, though she did not really expect him to agree.
There was no admittance to intensive care without the permission of the attending physician, so relatives and friends waited in a grey waiting room with fluorescent lighting, which the hospital had tried to brighten up with vivid red chairs and tables; and a few works by local artists featuring cheerful subjects – vases full of flowers, a bowl of fruit next to a dark green wine bottle, a pastoral scene with a shepherd in a field. Ben’s father David and his uncle Eli were sitting gazing silently at the closed doors of the ward. Ben approached his father and tapped him gently on the shoulder. David turned his head and, without a word, stood to embrace Ben. Uncle Eli was next. Ruth in turn hugged her husband.
‘There is no news yet,’ David said. ‘The doctor came to see us about half an hour ago. There has been no change in his condition.’
‘Not that we are sure what his condition is,’ Eli added. ‘But if it hasn’t changed, that means it hasn’t changed for the worse, so…’ He spread his arms out wide by his side.
‘What did they tell you when they brought him in?’ Ben asked.
David hesitated.
‘They said he had had a heart attack,’ Eli replied. ‘They said that, at his age, it was serious, but they wouldn’t know how serious for some time. They were going to keep him under observation. They didn’t want to take any further action for now. The
doctor comes and talks to us once an hour but, so far, there has been nothing new. So, who knows?’
Then Eli spotted Jess. She had been standing quietly to one side, anxious not to intrude, wondering whether she should take herself off in search of a café.
‘And who is this young lady?’ he asked.
The question set her thinking of the most unobtrusive way to make her apologies and leave. But Ben came over to put an arm around her and brought her into the circle.
‘This is Jess Farrar. She drove me here from Huntingdon when we got the news. She works for the solicitors in the case I’m doing. Jess, this is my father, David, and my Uncle Eli.’
David shook Jess’s hand politely before resuming his seat and his gaze towards the ward. Ruth sat down beside David and held his hand. But Eli remained standing and took Jess’s hand in his.
‘Don’t mind David,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s very upset, and he doesn’t say much when he’s upset.’
‘Oh, please don’t worry,’ she replied. ‘I’m just concerned that I don’t get in the way. Ben, why don’t I…?’
‘You are not in the way,’ Eli replied. ‘And thank you for bringing Ben to us.’
He released her hand with a slight squeeze, and turned to Ben.
‘So, Ben, this is some case you have in Huntingdon.’
Ben smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘From what the papers are saying, it doesn’t look too good for your man. What does he have to say about it all?’
‘He will be giving evidence tomorrow or the next day,’ Ben replied. ‘He has an alibi. He says he was never at the scene of the crime and he didn’t do it.’
Eli considered this for a few moments.
‘But what about the fingerprint? What about the gold cross and chain?’
Jess could not help laughing. ‘You have been following the case, Mr Schroeder, haven’t you?’
Eli smiled. ‘It’s Eli. None of that “Mr Schroeder” stuff. Not if you’re a friend of Ben.’ He put an arm around both their shoulders. ‘Yes, I have been keeping up with the case every day. I read every word they write about it. Well, I’m proud of the boy, my father is too, getting himself in a big case like this.’
‘You should be,’ she said, returning the smile.
‘Of course. We all are. He is the first one in the family. We are expecting big things of him.’
‘Viceroy of India, so I hear,’ she said.
Eli laughed. ‘Ben told you about that? Good.’ He turned to Ben. ‘But I think we agreed to settle for less, given the political situation in India, Ben. What was it?’
‘Lord Chief Justice,’ Ben reminded him.
‘Lord Chief Justice, that’s it. He’s going to be Lord Chief Justice.’
‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised,’ Jess said.
Eli smiled again, looking at her a little more closely. She was momentarily embarrassed and looked away.
‘Well,’ Eli said. ‘Why don’t the three of us make ourselves useful? There is a tea and coffee bar on the next floor down. I think they should still be open. Let’s go and get some drinks for everyone. We should be able to carry them between us if we all go.’
* * *
It was almost midnight before the attending physician came again. The tea and coffee bar had closed and they had nothing to do but sit in the brightly coloured chairs and wait. As the doctor entered, they all rose to their feet in a single movement. The doctor looked tired, but he was smiling.
‘Well, we have had Mr Schroeder under observation for several hours now,’ he said. ‘We have been monitoring his vital signs. He has had a heart attack and it wasn’t just a mild one, but at present there is no sign that it has done any long-term damage. We won’t know for sure for some time, but his signs are good for now. He’s going to have to stay in hospital for observation for a few days. I am going to start him on some medication to control his blood pressure, which is a bit high. But the most important thing is for him to rest, and it’s better that he should do that here at first, so that we can monitor him and get an early warning if anything goes wrong. He is awake and he is talking to the nurse, so if you want to go in and see him for a minute or two, I have no objection. But don’t all go in at once, and don’t stay more than a minute or two. You can do the same tomorrow. The nurse will tell you all about visiting hours.’
‘Thank you, doctor, thank you,’ Eli said. ‘David, why don’t you and Ruth go in first?’
‘You come, too, Eli,’ Ruth insisted.
They followed the doctor into the ward, leaving Ben and Jess together. He held his head in his hands and took several deep breaths. She hugged him.
‘I’m so glad, Ben,’ she said.
The doctor had meant what he said about limiting any visit to a minute or two. Ben’s parents and uncle returned very quickly.
‘Your turn, Ben,’ Ruth said.
Joshua was sitting up now, leaning against two pillows. He looked pale, but Ben saw at once that the twinkle in his eyes had survived the heart attack.
‘Viceroy,’ he said, holding out his hands. The voice was weak and croaky but his breathing seemed strong. ‘I am very glad to see you. I didn’t expect this. How is the big case going?’
They embraced.
‘We are still fighting,’ Ben replied. ‘We won’t know for a few days.’
‘I missed the report in today’s paper,’ Joshua said, ‘what with all the excitement. But this is even better, to get a first-hand report from one of the barristers. You can’t beat that, can you?’
‘I came as soon as I heard,’ Ben said.
‘I know. Your mother told me you have a very pretty girlfriend who brought you.’
‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Ben protested quietly. ‘She works for my instructing solicitors.’
‘Whatever you say, Viceroy,’ Joshua replied. ‘The important thing is that you are here. But you could at least bring her in so that I can see her and say thank you.’
Ben hesitated. ‘Are you sure? I don’t want to tire you. The doctor said…’
Joshua waved a hand dismissively.
‘I’m not going to die because I spend a minute or two talking,’ he said. ‘And I am sure I will fall asleep as soon as you go.’
Ben smiled. He walked to the door of the ward, opened it, and beckoned Jess. She looked at him questioningly, but he repeated the gesture.
‘He just wants to thank you for bringing me to see him,’ he whispered.
‘This is Jess Farrar,’ he said as they approached the bed. ‘This is my grandfather, Joshua.’
Joshua took both her hands in his.
‘I am very pleased to meet you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for bringing the Viceroy to see me. It means a lot for me to see him.’ He smiled. ‘You might say it does my heart good.’
‘I’m sure it does’ she replied. ‘I’m very pleased that I could do it. And I am very pleased to meet you, and that you are feeling a little better.’
The nurse was giving them a look.
‘We should probably go,’ Ben said, leaning over to embrace his grandfather. ‘I’ll come again as soon as I can.‘
Joshua smiled. ‘Billy Cottage needs you more than I do at the moment,’ he said. ‘Come when you can.’
He shook hands again with Jess.
‘If it goes the wrong way with the case,’ he said quietly, ‘make sure you tell him that’s the way it goes sometimes and he has to move on to the next one. He can be too hard on himself, sometimes.’
‘I will,’ she replied.
* * *
It was almost 1.30 when they all arrived back at the family home in Brady Street.
Jess looked at Ben. ‘If you want to head back…’ she began.
Ruth was shaking her head.
‘Not at this time of night,’ she insisted. ‘Not with the
kind of day you’ve had. I’m sure you are far too tired. Stay here. I will get you up in the morning and make you some breakfast. When you are rested you can go more safely.’
Jess looked at Ben.
‘I don’t see why Martin Hardcastle can’t do a morning on his own,’ he said. ‘After all, I did.’
She smiled. ‘Good,’ she replied. ‘I have to admit, I would prefer not to drive back. I can curl up on the sofa here.’
‘There’s no need for that, Jess,’ Ruth said. ‘We have more than enough room. We have the whole house. You can have a bedroom to yourself upstairs. And I always keep Ben’s room ready in case he needs it.’
‘The family started out with just the top floor in my grandfather’s day,’ Eli said, with a wink at Ben. ‘The lower floors were occupied by several other families. Over time, we terrorised the others until they moved out, and we bought up the house bit by bit.’
Jess laughed.
‘It’s true,’ Ben said, ‘apart from the bit about terrorising people. I’m sure they moved out voluntarily.’
Eli held up his hands.
‘Voluntarily, yes,’ he said. ‘Of course, they did.’
When Ruth came into their rooms to wake them with a cup of tea, it was 9 o’clock. When they arrived downstairs, a cooked breakfast awaited them. They set out for Huntingdon before 11.
As they left, Ruth embraced them in turn.
‘Come back soon,’ she said. ‘Both of you.’
48
25 June
After so many years of experience, there was not much that bothered Detective Superintendent Stanley Arnold when he went into the witness box. He had long since become accustomed to having his evidence challenged; his competence questioned; and to being called a liar to his face by some fresh-faced young man wearing a bright white wig. It was never a pleasant experience, but over the years Arnold had learned to suppress his indignation before his blood pressure began to rise, and to respond in a calm professional manner. If he had anything to do with it, his evidence, and that of his colleague Detective Inspector Ted Phillips, would be the final nail in Billy Cottage’s coffin. Despite the strain of being the officer in charge of a capital murder case, Arnold felt no anxiety about his evidence. The course of the investigation had been meticulously recorded. DI Phillips had written a verbatim note of the interviews with Cottage as they occurred. Andrew Pilkington had told him that Martin Hardcastle did not challenge his evidence, and had only a few questions about the investigation generally. As he waited outside court to be called, Arnold felt relaxed. That changed abruptly when he entered the witness box and saw Clive Overton dressed as a barrister and seated behind Martin Hardcastle.
