Tim Vicary - A Game of Proof

‘Yes. So as soon as he was in a proper environment, where he had a solicitor with him as was his legal right, and he was no longer handcuffed in a car being shouted at by two men who told him his girlfriend was dead, he began to tell the truth. Is that what you’re saying?’

Churchill smiled dismissively. ‘He changed his story, yes. After he’d seen his lawyer.’

‘All right. Let’s look at what he did after he had spoken to his lawyer. Not only did he begin to co-operate with you, Mr Churchill, but he actually did something quite unprecedented in your experience. He volunteered a written statement of the truth, isn’t that right?’

‘He gave me a statement that was partially true, yes.’

‘ Partially true, Mr Churchill? Would you read the statement again, please, and tell me which parts of it you think are not true?’

To her delight Churchill fell into her trap. He picked up Simon’s statement and began to read through it. The court fell silent, waiting. After nearly a minute, he looked up.

‘I mean that the statement was incomplete. It missed a number of crucial details.’

‘So there is nothing in his statement that is untrue. Is that what you are saying?’

‘It’s incomplete. For example …’

‘But it’s all true, isn’t it? Every word of that statement is true?’

‘True as far it goes, yes …’

‘Thank you.’ For a second, Sarah thought that she had him. But she was wrong.

‘It doesn’t say that he had sex with her, which he is now relying on for his defence. It doesn’t say that he hit her in the street, leaving a bruise on her face. Those are pretty important omissions, in my view. It doesn’t say that he spied on her when she was with David Brodie, and had a fight with him outside his house. That’s true as well, Mrs Newby, you know.’

Shit! She’d had him on the ropes, but he’d winded her with three heavy blows to the body. Her mind froze and she reeled, eyes glazed, waiting for the knockout. Then she hit back.

‘That doesn’t alter the fact that everything in that statement was true. If I asked where you were last night, Mr Churchill, you might say you were with a young woman, but you wouldn’t necessarily tell me what you did in bed with her. You’d be embarrassed, wouldn’t you?’

As Churchill hesitated, surprised by the question, a smothered male laugh came from behind her in the courtroom. A look of fury crossed his face, followed, to her delight, by a faint but unmistakable blush. I’ve touched a nerve I didn’t know existed, she thought, delighted.

‘Perhaps I would, yes. But then no one’s accused me of murder.’

‘Nevertheless, that’s why my son didn’t write down that he had sex with Jasmine that afternoon. He had no idea it was important at the time, had he? He simply told you he’d been with her, which was true.’

‘Possibly.’ Churchill was looking daggers past her, at whoever had laughed. She longed to look round herself.

‘There you are then. As soon as my son was at the police station, he gave you information that was entirely true. And in the course of that interview, when everything else he said was true, did he at any time admit to killing Jasmine Hurst?’

‘No, he denied it.’

‘Exactly. He’s always denied that, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

She had almost finished with Churchill. She glanced at her notes to remind herself how she had planned this last night. Surprise him now, keep him off guard.

‘When did you first tell him that Jasmine was dead?’

‘I … when we arrested him. We told him then.’

‘Pretty shocking news, wouldn’t you say? Especially when it’s brought to you by four policemen in the middle of the night. How did he react to it?’

‘He claimed he didn’t know she was dead.’

‘ He claimed he didn’t know .’ Sarah let the words hang a little in the air. ‘I suppose it never crossed your mind, Inspector Churchill, that this claim might actually be true? In which case your manner of breaking this terrible news was — what shall we say? Brutal?’

‘I believed that he had murdered her.’

‘You believed that, yes, but what if you were wrong? What if you were quite wrong and he really thought Jasmine was alive? What sort of reaction would you expect?’

Churchill shrugged. ‘If he really believed Jasmine was still alive, I suppose he would have been shocked.’

‘And how did he behave?’

‘Well, he appeared to be upset, of course. He said he didn’t know she was dead and started screaming at us. But in my view it was all fraud. He was shocked to be caught, that’s all.’

‘He appeared to be upset, you say. Did he ask you how she had died?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was this in his room, or in the car?’

‘In the car.’

‘When he was handcuffed and strapped to his seat. Did you tell him how she had died?’

‘In general terms, yes. I told him she’d been raped, and had her throat cut.’

‘And what was his reaction to this news?’

‘He appeared to be upset.’

Again Sarah let the words hang in the air. The longer she waited, the more callous she hoped they might sound. But it was only a hope. The jury might equally well sympathize with Churchill’s cynicism.

‘Describe this appearance of being upset for us, Inspector, if you will. Did he seem shocked? Did he weep? What did he do?’

Churchill looked up at the ornate domed ceiling for a moment and sighed, as though to indicate his impatience. ‘As I recall he fell silent for a while. Then he started shouting at us and saying he hadn’t seen her for weeks.’

Damn! She had walked into that. I need an exit strategy, quick.

‘So, to sum up your evidence, Mr Churchill. Four policeman woke my son in the middle of the night, handcuffed him and told him his girlfriend was dead. He appeared to be upset by this. You told him she had been raped and had her throat cut and he appeared to be even more upset by that. Correct so far?’

The mocking smile again. ‘If you put it like that, yes.’

‘Then, when he is handcuffed in your car and still appears to be upset by this truly shocking news, you accuse him of murder and start to question him …’

‘No!’ Churchill shook his head vigorously. ‘We did not question him in the car.’

‘All right. When you are not questioning him in the car but you are describing to him how she was killed and simultaneously accusing him of her murder while driving him through the darkened countryside in his pyjamas with his hands cuffed, and according to you he appears to be upset, at that point he starts to lie and say he hasn’t seen her for weeks. Is that right?’

‘It’s your way of putting it, I suppose.’

‘Is any of it untrue?’

He thought back over what she had said. ‘Not in detail, I suppose, but …’

‘Very well, then. You then take him to a police station where he is allowed to see a lawyer and has a few moments to take in this appalling news without feeling that he is being kidnapped by two strangers who don’t believe a word he says, and at that point he immediately begins to co-operate and tell the truth. Is that right?’

‘Not all the truth, no. He told us he didn’t kill Jasmine.’

‘Apart from that, what else did he tell you in that interview that you don’t accept as true?’

Churchill paused before answering, searching swiftly through his mind for a detail she had forgotten. Then he grinned.

‘He said he’d made love to her in the afternoon. I don’t believe that.’

‘You may not believe it but you’ve no way of knowing whether it’s true or not, have you? The pathologist has already confirmed that it’s possible.’