Jeffrey Archer - A Prisoner Of Birth

Alex's father opened his eyes like a jungle beast that had been woken from a deep sleep. He rose slowly from his place and said, "How kind of you to ask, my lord. But no, not at this juncture. Possibly later." He slumped back in his place.

The press benches were suddenly jolted into action as the first boundary was scored. Alex pursed his lips for fear he would burst out laughing. Mr. Justice Hackett could barely restrain himself.

"Get on with it, Redmayne," said the judge, but before Alex could respond, his father was back on his feet. "I do apologize, m'lord," he said sweetly, "but which Redmayne did you have in mind?"

This time the jury burst out laughing. The judge made no attempt to reply, and Sir Matthew sank back in his seat, closed his eyes and whispered, "Go for the jugular, Alex."

"Chief inspector, you told the court that it was after you had seen Miss Wilson enter the house that you became convinced that it was Daniel Cartwright and not Sir Nicholas Moncrieff who was living there."

"Yes, that's correct," said Fuller, still gripping the side of the witness box.

"But once you had taken my client into custody, chief inspector, didn't you have a moment's anxiety about whether you might have arrested the wrong man?"

"No, Mr. Redmayne, not after I'd seen the scar on his…"

"Not after you'd seen the scar on his-"

"-checked his DNA on the police computer," said the chief inspector.

"Sit down," whispered Alex's father. "You've got everything you need, and Hackett won't have worked out the significance of the scar."

"Thank you, chief inspector. No more questions, m'lord."

"Do you wish to reexamine this witness, Mr. Pearson?" asked Mr. Justice Hackett.

"No, thank you, m'lord," said Pearson, who was writing down the words not after I'd seen the scar on his … and trying to work out their significance.

"Thank you, chief inspector," said the judge. "You may leave the witness box."

Alex leaned over to his father as the chief inspector made his way out of the courtroom and whispered, "But I didn't get him to admit that the 'professional gentleman' was in fact Craig."

"That man was never going to name his contact, but you still managed to trap him twice. And don't forget, there's another witness who must also know who reported Danny to the police, and he's certainly not going to feel at home in a courtroom, so you should be able to corner him long before Hackett works out what your real purpose is. Never forget we can't afford to make the same mistake as we did with Lord Justice Browne and the unplayed tape." Alex nodded as Mr. Justice Hackett turned his attention to counsel's bench. "Perhaps this would be a good time to take a break."

"All rise."

ARNOLD PEARSON WAS deep in conversation with his junior when Mr. Justice Hackett said in a loud voice, "Are you ready to call your next witness, Mr. Pearson?"

Pearson rose from his place. "Yes, m'lord. I call Sir Hugo Moncrieff."

Alex watched Sir Hugo carefully as he entered the courtroom. Never prejudge a witness, his father had taught him from the cradle, but Hugo was clearly nervous. He took a handkerchief out of his top pocket and mopped his brow even before he had reached the witness box.

The usher guided Sir Hugo into the box and handed him a Bible. The witness read the oath from the card that was held up in front of him, then looked up toward the gallery, searching for the person he wished was giving evidence in his place. Mr. Pearson gave him a warm smile when he looked back down.

"Sir Hugo, would you just for the record state your name and address?"

"Sir Hugo Moncrieff, the Manor House, Dunbroath in Scotland."

"Let me begin, Sir Hugo, by asking you when you last saw your nephew, Nicholas Moncrieff."

"On the day we both attended his father's funeral."

"And did you have an opportunity to speak to him on that sad occasion?"

"Unhappily not," said Hugo. "He was accompanied by two prison officers who said that we were not to have any contact with him."

"What sort of relationship did you have with your nephew?" asked Pearson.

"Cordial. We all loved Nick. He was a fine lad, whom the family considered had been badly treated."

"So there was no ill feeling when you and your brother learned that he had inherited the bulk of the estate from your father."

"Certainly not," said Hugo. "Nick would automatically inherit the title on his father's death, and along with it the family estate."

"So it must have come as a terrible shock to discover that he had hanged himself in prison, and that an impostor had taken his place."

Hugo lowered his head for a moment, before saying, "It was a massive blow for my wife Margaret and myself, but thanks to the professionalism of the police and the rallying round of friends and family, we are slowly trying to come to terms with it."

"Word-perfect," whispered Sir Matthew.

"Can you confirm, Sir Hugo, that the Garter King of Arms has established your right to the family title?" asked Mr. Pearson, ignoring Sir Matthew's comment.

"Yes, I can, Mr. Pearson. The letters patent were sent to me some weeks ago."

"Can you also confirm that the estate in Scotland, along with the house in London and the bank accounts in London and Switzerland are once again in the custody of the family?"

"I'm afraid I cannot, Mr. Pearson."

"And why is that?" asked Mr. Justice Hackett.

Sir Hugo appeared a little flustered as he turned toward the judge. "It's the policy of both banks concerned not to confirm ownership while a court case is still in progress, m'lord. They have assured me that legal transfer will take place to the rightful party as soon as this case is concluded, and the jury have delivered their verdict."

"Fear not," said the judge, giving him a warm smile. "Your long ordeal is coming to an end."

Sir Matthew was on his feet instantly. "I apologize for interrupting your lordship, but does your response to this witness imply that you have already come to a decision in this case?" he asked with a warm smile.

It was the judge's turn to look flustered. "No, of course not, Sir Matthew," he replied. "I was merely stating that whatever the outcome of this trial, Sir Hugo's long wait is finally coming to an end."

"I am obliged, my lord. It comes as a great relief to discover that you have not made up your mind before the defense has been given a chance to present its case." He settled back in his place.

Pearson glowered at Sir Matthew, but the old man's eyes were already closed. Turning back to the witness, he said, "I am sorry, Sir Hugo, that you have had to be put through such an unpleasant ordeal, which is not of your own making. But it has been important for the jury to see what havoc and distress the defendant Daniel Cartwright has brought down on your family. As his lordship has made clear, that ordeal is finally coming to an end."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," said Sir Matthew.

Pearson once again ignored the interruption. "No more questions, my lord," he said, before resuming his place.

"Every word of that was rehearsed," whispered Sir Matthew, his eyes still closed. "Lead the damn man down a long, dark path and when he least expects it, plunge a knife into his heart. I can promise you, Alex, no blood will flow, blue or red."

"Mr. Redmayne, I apologize for interrupting you," said the judge, "but is it your intention to cross-examine this witness?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Pace yourself, my boy. Don't forget that he's the one who wants to get it over with," whispered Sir Matthew as he slumped back into his place.

"Sir Hugo," Alex began, "you told the court that your relationship with your nephew, Nicholas Moncrieff, was a close one- cordial was the word I think you used to describe it-and that you would have spoken to him at his father's funeral had the prison officers not prevented it."