Lynda La Plante - The Legacy

Smethurst was very angry. Freedom was looking rough, his suit crumpled, and there was a bruise forming on his cheek. He handed Freedom his own greasy comb and told him to do something with his hair. Clean it might be, but long strands hung loose from the leather thong. Smethurst felt sorry for losing his temper. ‘The women in the gallery are on your side, lad. I wish we had a few on the jury. They’ll be tossing flowers at you before the trial’s over. Apparently you resemble that film actor chappie, Valentino.’

‘I never been to no picture house, sir.’

An usher gave Smethurst the nod that court was about to sit, and he rushed to his chambers to throw on his wig and gown. Henshaw was already waiting, spick and span, checking his appearance in the mirror. ‘So it’s the big day — your girl’s on the stand? Should be interesting,’

‘You get copies of those two statements? From Lord Carlton and Captain Collins?’

‘I did, old chap, I did. Personally I doubt if they’ll help, you’d need the prince himself to step on the stand to get your chap off this one.’

‘We’ll see, we’ll see — don’t count your eggs yet. Want a toffee?’

Henshaw smiled a refusal as the judge entered, muttering about the rift-raff outside the court. Smethurst joked with the judge. ‘They say my client’s the spitting image of this movie star, fella called Rudolph Valentino.’ The judge snorted, ‘Well, for the Lord’s sake I hope the press don’t pick that up, the wife’U be here next. She’s seen Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse twice.’ Smethurst nearly swallowed his toffee the wrong way as the judge swept out. ”Four Horsemen of the what?’

Henshaw laughed, checked he had his glasses and then winked at Smethurst. ‘Old boy’s wife’s a bit of a lady, so I’ve heard. Well, come on, let’s get on with the show.’

Evelyne was driven to court in Sir Charles’ Rolls-Royce. She was shaking with nerves and kept licking her lips because her mouth felt so dry.

At the court they were surrounded by newspaper reporters pushing forward to speak to Sir Charles. The flashes and bangs of the photographers’ lights made Evelyne jump.

‘May I ask you, Sir Charles, what your interest in this case might be? Please, Sir Charles, just a few words?’

‘I simply want justice done, that is all. Freedom Stubbs is an innocent man who has already spent too long in jail.’

Two police officers pushed the reporters back, allowing Evelyne and Sir Charles to enter. The massive marbled reception area of the Law Courts was daunting, and Evelyne would have found it awe-inspiring if she had not been so nervous. Voices echoed and people rushed hither and thither. She was thankful to see the familiar figure of Smethurst striding towards them.

‘Ah, you’re here, good, good — curtain up in about five minutes.’

‘Good God, man, can’t you afford a better wig, the tail’s over your left ear, looks dreadful.’

Smethurst turned his wig round, only to leave the tail sticking out over his right ear. An usher was waiting to lead Evelyne round to the waiting area. Sir Charles went ahead into the courtroom as Smethurst, his gown floating around him, walked with Evelyne to a long bench.

‘Now just keep calm, and remember, don’t let Henshaw ruffle you. He’ll try his damnedest. Shouldn’t be too long a wait, and may I say you look charming.’

He strode off before she could reply or thank him for his compliment. She could see what looked like food stains down the back of his gown.

She became aware of a man scrutinizing her from the doorway. His cold eyes made her shiver, his drawn face was set and hard.

Henshaw detected how nervous she was, and knew instantly she would be putty in his hands. He followed Smethurst into the court.

One hour ticked by, then another. Evelyne paced up and down the marbled corridor. She walked to the far end and peered round the corner. There was another bench, with a number of men sitting on it, some with cigarettes in their cupped hands. Above them hung a ‘No Smoking’ sign in bold red letters. Evelyne returned to her bench and sat down again.

In the courtroom Smethurst was in fine form, his face flushed a deep red, his big hands waving in the air. He called for the defendant, Freedom Stubbs, to be brought into the dock.

The raised voices from the court made Evelyne’s nerves even worse. Suddenly the double doors were thrown open and an usher called her name. She dropped her handbag in her haste to follow him into the court.

Evelyne’s hand trembled visibly as she held up the Bible, standing ramrod straight in the witness box. ‘I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.’

Smethurst smiled at her. ‘Would you state your name and occupation?’

Evelyne’s voice wavered, and she got another encouraging smile from Smethurst as she answered, ‘I am a schoolteacher’.

‘So at the time of the murder of William Thomas you were a schoolteacher. Now then, would you, in your own time, please tell the court how you first came to meet the accused, Freedom Stubbs?’

Evelyne told the court how some friends had taken her to Highbury Hill for an evening’s entertainment. At this point Smethurst interrupted her. ‘I’d say that was a rather unusual evening’s entertainment for a respectable schoolteacher, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Jones? And just exactly who were these friends who suggested you go to this boxing match?’ He directed a half-smile at Henshaw.

Evelyne replied, ‘Lord Frederick Carlton and Captain David Collins.’

A murmur ran round the court at the mention of the high-society names. Sir Charles gasped and dropped his monocle. Smethurst had assured him that neither man’s name would even be mentioned in court. He slapped his kid gloves against his hand in anger — this was really outrageous.

Evelyne was in the witness box for almost an hour before they broke for lunch. She had hardly looked at the dock, at Freedom — she couldn’t. He had never taken his eyes from her face. As they led him back to his cell he tried to catch her eye, but she was being escorted from the stand by an usher.

The afternoon session began with Evelyne once more in the box. The court heard how she had helped Rawnie, but her name was not spoken. She had everyone’s full attention as she explained how she had collected the newspaper cuttings, how she had seen Freedom in her village and recognized him from the boxing match. She told the court why she had gone to his camp to warn him the police were looking for him. As she stated that on the night William Thomas was killed in the picture house, Freedom had been with her, the spectators stirred and whispered. Her voice was strong, confident, as she said that Freedom could not have committed the murder. She was calm and concise throughout the ordeal, and above all spoke clearly, accurately recalling dates and times. Smethurst turned to the judge. ‘At this point, Your Honour, may I say that both Lord Frederick Carlton and Captain David Collins have given statements to verify what Miss Jones has said, and they will both, if required, repeat their statements in court.’

Sir Charles gave Smethurst a furious look as he sat down.

Before Henshaw cross-examined Evelyne, he requested permission to approach the bench with Smethurst for a moment.

They spoke in whispers. Henshaw had picked up on the newspaper cuttings and he was going to find it impossible to avoid mentioning the previous murders. Smethurst gave Henshaw the go-ahead. He had been prepared for this, and it did not involve any change in tactics. He knew he could turn it to his own advantage.

Henshaw walked back to his seat and shuffled through his papers, waiting for the court to be brought to order once again. He took his time, lips pursed, carefully placing his glasses on his nose. He coughed lightly and appeared to be concentrating on his notes. In a blatantly sarcastic manner, he asked ‘Miss Jones, could you please tell the court where you gained your diplomas to teach?’