Lynda La Plante - The Legacy

Evelyne flushed and replied that she had not taken examinations, but had taught at the junior school in her village.

‘So you are not, as you stated, a schoolteacher, is that correct? And at the time you visited Highbury Fair, what was your profession then?’

Smethurst jumped up and objected that the line of questioning was irrelevant and had no bearing whatsoever on the case. The judge dismissed his interruption.

‘So, Miss Jones, we take it that you were not in fact a schoolteacher but a pupil, am I correct?’

Evelyne unwittingly fell into the carefully laid trap. She admitted that she had actually left school because her family needed her at home. Henshaw gave a sarcastic smirk. ‘Ahhhh, I see, so now we have gone from being a schoolteacher to not even being at school. Dear, dear, this is all very confusing. Let us now take the reason why you were at the fair. As my learned friend stated, a boxing match is not really a fit place for a lady …’

Smethurst was on his feet, objecting in his booming voice. It was irrelevant whether or not a boxing match was a suitable place for a lady to be taken — indeed, if the great Ethel Barrymore frequented boxing matches he felt sure there could be no slur attached to his witness.

The judge had had enough and called Smethurst to the bar to reprimand him, saying that unless he curtailed his constant interruptions the court would be adjourned. Smethurst apologized and returned to his seat, then turned in astonishment as Evelyne blurted out, ‘I may not be a lady in your opinion, sir, but I assure you I was invited to the fair, unaware that there was to be a boxing match. I trusted my companions and I had no reason to believe they were taking me to anything more than an innocent fair. My companions were Lord Frederick Carlton and Mr David — Captain David Collins. Both gentlemen, I believe. So, in your rudeness to me you are also accusing two respected men of being less than gentlemen.’

This speech caused the gallery to erupt in loud shouts and a spate of hand-clapping. The judge pounded with his gavel and called for order. Henshaw’s mouth twitched with anger, he shuffled his papers and was about to move on to another tactic when Evelyne, after a glance at the judge, spoke again. ‘I’d also like, if I may, sir, I mean Your Honour, I would like to explain my education. It was partly private, and from Captain Collins’ aunt. Mrs Doris Evans was her name, sir, and it was Mrs Evans who first brought me to Cardiff, and that is where I met Captain Collins. Just so you don’t think I met him for the first time on the night of the fair.’

Henshaw snapped, ‘Thank you, Miss Jones. You are implying, I believe, that you were a friend of Captain Collins’ family?’

Evelyne again had the court in uproar when she agreed that Henshaw was correct, that she was a family friend, albeit a poor one.

Smethurst coughed and smiled at Henshaw behind his hand. He knew Evelyne had got him rattled, and it tickled him. Smethurst was also pleased to see the judge’s obvious delight in the witness.

Henshaw was aware that he had to get the situation back under his control. ‘Let us move on to Freedom Stubbs.’

From the public gallery a raucous female yelled that she’d move on to Freedom Stubbs any time they liked, and she threw down a single red rose. Again the judge resorted to his gavel to bring the court to order. He then announced a recess until the following morning and asked both Henshaw and Smethurst to come to his chambers.

Smethurst proffered a toffee to Henshaw just as the judge entered. ‘Now look here, you two, tomorrow I want no more of your baiting each other out there. Just conduct yourselves and your questioning in an orderly fashion. Is it true? Ethel Barrymore goes to watch fights? Where on earth did you get hold of that?’

About to reply, Smethurst stopped short as Henshaw slammed out of the room. It was in some way an omen, a foretaste of what was to take place the following morning.

Evelyne had been in the witness box for more than an hour, answering question after mundane question, but although she was tiring she maintained her concentration throughout. Henshaw was unrelenting, eventually bringing up the fact that Evelyne had kept newspaper cuttings of the previous murders. ‘You cut articles from the papers and kept them for no other reason than mere interest? I find that hard to believe, just as I find your statement that you went alone to the gypsy camp on the night William Thomas was murdered hard to believe. It was almost dark, it was, after all, almost eight o’clock.’

Smethurst had wanted Evelyne to watch every word. This time she made no reply. By not actually asking her a question, Henshaw had hoped to trip her up. He sighed, twisting his glasses around. ‘We are expected to believe an awful lot, Miss Jones, that you, just an ordinary girl, climbed a mountain to a gypsy camp to warn, warn, a man you insist you did not know, but you go alone, taking with you newspaper cuttings regarding that man’s possible association with certain murders …’

At this point the judge clarified that the defendant had been cleared of all charges relating to the aforementioned murders. He allowed Henshaw to ask again why Evelyne had collected the reports from the newspapers, and why she took them to Freedom Stubbs. Evelyne answered that Freedom was illiterate, he could neither read nor write, and he was not aware that he was wanted for questioning. Henshaw raised his arms and shook his head in disbelief. ‘You expect us to believe this? This preposterous fairy-tale? Wouldn’t the truth be rather that you were less than a stranger to the accused? I think, Miss Jones, you knew him well, more than well — he is illiterate, how did you know this? What I believe you did know was that the defendant was in your village for the sole purpose of killing William Thomas, is that not the real truth?’

Evelyne could hear Mr Henshaw’s breathing, the court was so quiet. Smethurst leaned forward, tense now. She kept her voice to a low whisper. ‘At the time I did not know whether or not Freedom Stubbs had any involvement with those other boys, but I had to find out…’

‘Could you tell the court why?’ ‘I recognized Willie Thomas, and I knew there could be trouble. I wanted it to stop even though I felt he should pay in some way for what he did to that poor girl. I just wanted to warn Freedom Stubbs, that was all.’

Henshaw shouted over Evelyne’s words, ‘You approve of murder, is that what you are saying?’

Evelyne’s temper snapped and she pointed at Henshaw, her voice rising. ‘I never said that! What I said was, that if anyone saw what they had done to that poor girl, I mean if anyone had seen Willie that night, like I saw him, on top of her, ripping at her clothes, they would believe he should be punished. I never said I approved of murder.’ She gripped the edge of the witness stand. She was so angry, angry because tears were running down her cheeks. ‘You keep putting words into my mouth, sir. I just went up to the camp because I wanted to warn him there could be trouble and there might be a fight.’

‘Mr Stubbs was there that night to do precisely that — fight. Miss Jones, have you at any time had sexual relations with the accused?’

All the spectators craned forward for Freedom and Evelyne’s reactions to this question. Evelyne picked up the Bible and held it high. ‘I am here because at the time of the killing of Willie Thomas I was with Freedom Stubbs, that is the sole reason I am here.’

‘I am sure it is, Miss Jones, but you have not answered my question. Did you and the accused have a sexual relationship?’

‘No! No, as God is my witness, I have not,’ Evelyne sobbed.

Women in the gallery blew their noses and shook their heads. To them breaking down was somehow confirmation of her love for Freedom.