John Francome - Declared Dead

His counsel began taking him through his evidence and for the next hour he spoke about his early days as a trainer, the initial struggle to succeed and attract owners and finally the fun and responsibility of running a successful yard. The picture emerged, at least as far as I was concerned, sitting at the back of the court, of a thoroughly decent, modest and agreeable young man. Then, candidly and without a hint of embarrassment, he told of how he fell in love with me and freely admitted that he had implored me to leave Edward. Questioned about the letters he had written, he categorically denied ever having threatened to end Edward's life, or indeed that he had ever even considered doing so. He confirmed exactly what I had told the court about the missing page in the letter of 22nd December.

'Would you please tell His Lordship about the last occasion when you saw Mr Pryde alive,' asked his counsel.

Tom looked the jury straight in the eye and began to recount what happened on that Saturday evening: 'After seeing the state Victoria was in on the Friday, I decided to give Pryde a piece of my mind. I wasn't prepared to sit back and see Victoria's life ruined, whatever I had promised. I telephoned Edward Pryde and asked him to meet me at nine-thirty on the Saturday at the pub. As far as I was concerned, the affair was over, although I can't deny that I wished it wasn't. I'd never liked Edward and considering the kind of things he had done to his wife, I reckoned I'd have great difficulty in keeping my temper with him. But I thought it was worth a try to reason with him for Victoria's sake.

'I arrived a little late, say at a quarter to ten, and he was already in the corner of the saloon bar. For the first half an hour or so he was fairly sociable and talked about the horses in the yard and Victoria's success in the Gold Cup. I suspected he was playing the fool with me and as I returned from a visit to the loo I determined to stop beating about the bush. But before I could get a word in, and in front of a number of people in the pub, he started abusing me and telling me he knew all about my affair with his wife. I tried to calm him down, but with little success, and I'm afraid I gradually lost my temper with him. I felt he had set out to provoke me and I duly rose to the bait. A couple of times I got up to leave but on both occasions he grabbed hold of my sleeve and pulled me back. He said that if I didn't hear him out he would give Victoria a thrashing she would never forget.

'That was the last straw as far as I was concerned, and I told him that if he ever laid hands on her again, I'd make him pay for it. I was pretty well worked up by now and I'm not surprised I was overheard in the bar. When the landlord called for last orders, Edward asked for one more drink and I went and bought it for him, just to have a minute's break from his tirade. He took his time drinking it and by the time we reached the car park, we were the last to leave. I remember getting into my car, but after that, nothing, until I woke up still in the car park at six o'clock in the morning. I was lying across the passenger seat and had the most ghastly headache. I must have passed out, although I could only have had about three pints to drink. It must have been the combined effect of the alcohol and some pills I had taken to get rid of a bad headache earlier in the evening. That's all I can remember.'

'Can you explain how your footprints were found at Melksham pit?'

'I cannot. I have only been to the chalk pit once and that was last summer, with Victoria Pryde, as she told you when she gave her evidence. I can only assume that the footprints which were found date from that occasion, or that they belong to someone else who takes the same size shoes as me; I doubt if a size 9 is that uncommon.'

'Did you kill Edward Pryde?'

Tom turned to face the judge and then swivelled to the jury again. 'No, I did not. I have never so much as touched a hair on his head and that is the truth.'

The impassive faces of the jury gave no hint of whether they believed him.

Snipe sensed that this was a critical moment in the case and with his impeccable sense of timing suggested that the court should rise until the following morning when cross-examination would begin.

I took a taxi from the Old Bailey to Amy's offices in Lincoln's Inn. Feeling depressed and frightened, I couldn't pretend my own evidence had gone well. I had been caught out by the production of those letters and I knew that nobody had believed me when I'd said a crucial page was missing. I couldn't understand where or how the prosecution could have found them. Perhaps when the police searched the cottage they had come across them in one of Edward's hiding places. It didn't really matter now, as the damage had been done. Tom had been a really good witness, I felt, only it was impossible not to feel that the burden of proof had been reversed. It had fallen upon him to prove his innocence, not on the prosecution to establish his guilt beyond all reasonable doubt. They had presented the jury with motive and opportunity. Get out of that one, Radcliffe, I could hear them now saying. I only hoped Amy would have some news on Corcoran to cheer me up. Too busy to come to court, she had promised to liaise with Tom's solicitor during the afternoon to find out whether the former stable lad had made contact and signed his statement.

I was shown into her room as she was putting down the phone.

'How did it go?' she asked eagerly. I told her about the letters and my fears that I had, if anything, damaged Tom's case.

'You mustn't blame yourself,' she said, trying her best to reassure me. 'Remember, you were called as a witness for the prosecution, albeit a reluctant one, so all you could do was tell the truth about your relationship with Tom. Judges and lawyers have a way of making everything sound sordid and improper. Anyone would think they never had a dirty thought. I can tell you a few who I reckon never have a clean one!'

I managed a feeble laugh. 'Any news on Corcoran?'

'That's just what I was on the phone about when you came in. Good news at last, there. He's in London, staying at a hotel, somewhere behind Victoria station. Booked in this morning and signed the statement which Tom's solicitors sent round early this afternoon. Apparently he thinks he's being followed and they've arranged a taxi to pick him up there in the morning and take him to court. Does that make you feel better?'

'Considerably!'

'Good. Now they've got the statement, they've given notice to the other side of their intention to call him, as he counts as an alibi witness. You're meant to give them due notice, so they can investigate it and if necessary call evidence to rebut it. You can rest assured old Snipe will get shirty and lay into Tom's lawyers about their disregard for the proper procedure and so on.'

It was obvious that the next day I was going to need all my strength just being a spectator at the hearing and I willingly accepted Amy's invitation to spend another night at her flat. I went to bed early only to dream of Snipe donning a black cap and smiling as he sent Tom to the gallows. The final touch of the macabre was that Edward was standing beside him dressed up as a priest.

I arrived at Court No 1 at ten-fifteen and paced up and down outside. I was too nervous to sit still, despite my crutches. I could see Tom's counsel in anxious discussion with two men I thought must be his solicitors. One of them, a middle-aged man wearing a striped shirt with a white collar, kept on looking at his watch and shaking his head. They were clearly worried about something and the absence of any sign of Corcoran made me guess what. I couldn't believe that, having made the effort to come over here and sign his statement, he wouldn't now appear. Amy arrived as I was about to hobble over and ask if something was wrong. I pointed out to her the group and she marched over and had a word with the man in the striped shirt. After a brief discussion she returned.