Archer, Jeffrey - Hidden in Plain Sight

Booth Watson was now tugging his lapels furiously, causing Clare to scribble another note, which she quickly passed to Sir Julian. He hadn’t noticed what Booth Watson had been up to until then, but immediately turned to stare pointedly at defence counsel, who reluctantly folded his arms.

‘Is it also another coincidence that twelve grams was the amount of pure cocaine the police found inside the statue at your home?’

‘He knew the exact amount to plant that could be bought for eight hundred pounds,’ said Faulkner, pointing at Lamont.

‘I don’t think so, Mr Faulkner. Mr Heath had left your home with the money before anyone else knew how much was involved – except you.’

‘As I said earlier, Ms Warwick, I can’t be sure of the exact sum I paid Mr Heath.’

This time Faulkner hadn’t ducked in time, but he stared defiantly at junior counsel, as if the blow hadn’t landed.

‘Mr Faulkner, a twenty-pound note was found on the desk in your study.’

‘Which Dr Lewis confirmed had no traces of cocaine on it, if I remember correctly.’

‘I wasn’t going to suggest otherwise, Mr Faulkner,’ said Grace. ‘However, I’m glad you agree that it is part of the evidence already accepted by both sides, and, indeed, your signature is on the list of items taken from your home by the police on the night of your arrest. But let’s be sure, shall we? M’lud, may I ask the defendant to study the note in question and confirm that it was the one found on his desk?’

The judge nodded and the clerk extracted a small cellophane bag from the bundle of evidence, walked across to the box and handed it to the defendant.

‘So it’s the note you found on my desk. Big deal,’ said Faulkner after glancing at it briefly. ‘What does that prove?’

‘Would you read out the serial number of the note to the court?’

Booth Watson was on his feet unusually quickly. ‘M’lud, is my client to be subjected to the latest parlour game?’

‘I suspect we are about to find out, Mr Booth Watson,’ said Mr Justice Baverstock, before turning to the defendant and saying, ‘Please read out the note’s serial number.’

Faulkner hesitated for some time before saying, ‘KA73863743.’

‘Thank you,’ said Grace. ‘I will now ask the clerk of the court to show you the packet of twenty-pound notes that the police found on Mr Heath when they apprehended him soon after he left your house.’

Once again Booth Watson was on his feet. ‘We only have the police’s word that these are the notes in question.’

‘I agree with you,’ said Grace, giving Booth Watson a warm smile. ‘But if Mr Faulkner would be kind enough to read out the serial numbers of the notes in question, we can then be certain this was the money he handed over to Mr Heath.’

Faulkner looked imploringly at his counsel, but Booth Watson’s arms were folded.

‘We are all waiting, Mr Faulkner,’ said the judge.

Faulkner began reading out the serial numbers. ‘KA73863744, KA73863745, KA73863746 . . .’

‘If you look at the note found on your desk,’ said Grace, ‘you’ll find it is KA73864543. Making eight hundred pounds in total.’

William couldn’t help feeling rather pleased with himself.

‘What does that prove? I’ve already told you I gave Heath eight hundred pounds for twelve jars of caviar.’

‘I’m so glad you’ve raised the subject of the caviar, Mr Faulkner. Last Saturday, I visited Fortnum and Mason in Piccadilly, and purchased a small jar of caviar.’ She produced it with a flourish from below the bench, and held it up for all to see, then paused for a moment before saying, ‘Allow me to read the description on the label. “Finest Beluga caviar. Will complement any meal. Contains two portions.” I confess, Mr Faulkner, that I considered the price a little extravagant, but the manager assured me that it is a top of the range product and is enjoyed by Fortnum and Mason’s most discerning customers. And as Mr Heath told us, you’re only interested in “top of the range”, even if you’re not one of Fortnum and Mason’s most discerning customers.’

‘M’lud,’ said Booth Watson, once again rising to his feet, ‘I am sure we are all enjoying this little conjuring trick performed by junior counsel. However, as her recent purchase was not offered in the bundle of evidence, can I presume that you will rule it as inadmissible?’

‘He’s worked it out,’ Sir Julian whispered to Grace. ‘Let’s hope Faulkner hasn’t.’

Faulkner kept staring at him, a puzzled look on his face.

‘And if not, may I request a short break in proceedings, so I can consult my client?’ added Booth Watson.

‘I had a feeling he’d be consulting you,’ said the judge. ‘Ms Warwick, may I see the evidence before I make my decision?’

‘Most certainly, My Lord,’ said Grace, producing three more jars of caviar from below the bench and handing them to the clerk of the court, who in turn gave one to the judge, one to Booth Watson and the third to the defendant.

After the judge had read the label and studied the jar, he said, ‘The jury should be allowed to examine the evidence before we continue.’

‘As Your Lordship pleases,’ said Grace, producing two more jars and feeling relieved that she’d taken Clare’s advice and bought a box of six. She handed them to the clerk, who passed them to the foreman of the jury.

‘Please continue, Ms Warwick,’ said Mr Justice Baverstock once the jury had considered the new evidence.

‘Mr Faulkner, can I ask you how many people sat down for dinner at your home on the night of May the seventeenth?’

‘Ten, including me, as has already been stated several times.’

‘And they all enjoyed a portion of caviar, before moving on to the main course?’

‘Without exception. In fact, one or two of them had a second helping.’

‘Did they indeed?’

Booth Watson once again began tugging repeatedly at the lapels of his gown, despite the fact that Sir Julian was staring at him.

‘I only ask, Mr Faulkner, because a single jar of Royal Beluga caviar, like the one you have in your hands, enough for two portions, is on sale at Fortnum and Mason for £340. But to be sure, I asked Fortnum’s manager, a Mr Nightingale, how much I would need if I was holding a dinner party for ten. He recommended seven hundred and fifty grams.’ She looked directly at the jury as she said, ‘Not twelve grams, which would just about fill a teaspoon.’

The trap had been set, and Grace waited for Faulkner to step into it. But at last Booth Watson had caught his client’s attention, and he remained silent.

‘You won’t be surprised to learn, Mr Faulkner, that I then asked Mr Nightingale how much seven hundred and fifty grams of caviar would cost – enough for ten people. He told me £1,700, but said he would throw in the biscuits for free.’

A little laughter broke out in the gallery, but the judge’s frown ensured that no one in the body of the court joined in.

‘M’lud,’ said Grace, ‘Mr Nightingale will be happy to appear before the court to confirm these figures, but you may feel that won’t be necessary, as Mr Faulkner has already sworn under oath that his chef served ten portions of caviar for himself and his guests that night, on silver platters, and that one or two of them enjoyed a second helping.’

An outbreak of chattering broke out in the courtroom. Grace took a deep breath and waited until she once again had everyone’s attention.

‘I accept, Mr Faulkner, that when it comes to the price of cocaine, you are clearly well informed, as you made clear when you said under oath that if the twelve grams found in your home had been for your personal use, it would have been enough for a year. I also acknowledge that you enjoy a reputation as a brilliant dealmaker. But I doubt if even you could have talked Fortnum and Mason into selling 1,700 pounds’ worth of their finest Beluga caviar for eight hundred pounds.’ Grace smiled at Faulkner. The trap had been sprung, and she now felt confident he could not escape. However, she still had one final question.