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Authors: Lynda La Plante

The Legacy (37 page)

BOOK: The Legacy
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Evelyne grew more and more nervous as Miss Freda described how cold and arrogant Mr Henshaw was. They both jumped with fright as someone pounded on the door, and they heard Sir Charles’ voice demanding admission.

‘Now look here, this isn’t on. You know you mustn’t talk to the witness, Miss Freda. Now please leave instantly … go along, out, out - and make sure no one sees you as you leave.’

With a fearful look at Evelyne, Freda hurried out. Sir Charles closed the door after her. ‘I shouldn’t be here either.’

‘How do you think it’s going, sir?’ ‘Not good, not good at all - they’re making him look like an oaf. Er … look here, gel, you and this fellow … er, you have been telling us the truth, haven’t you?’ ‘About what, sir?’

‘Well, this chap Henshaw’s pretty sharp, and he’s picked up that perhaps there’s more to your so-called “friendship” with this fella than meets the eye.’

Evelyne’s hands tightened in her lap. She swallowed hard. ‘If I had lied to you, I would not get on to that witness stand and swear on the Holy Bible to a lie. Everything I said to you, and Mr Smethurst, was God’s truth.’

‘Ah, yes, quite … well, I think you’ll be called soon. I suppose Smethurst will talk to you before then. I’d best be off… Goodnight.’ ‘Goodnight, Sir Charles.’

Evelyne lay down, hardly able to believe that after all she had been through Sir Charles had to ask her again. Her heart pounded and she began to worry. Mr Henshaw sounded even more threatening than Miss Freda had made out. He had obviously sown a seed of doubt in Sir Charles’ mind.

In the morning Freedom was led, handcuffed, from the jail to the waiting police wagon. A small crowd outside hurled rotting vegetables and abuse, and spat in Freedom’s face as he stared at them between the wagon’s bars. They raised their fists and gave chase as it moved off. Most of them then went to join the dole queues, satisfied that they were at least better off than the gyppo. Poor they may be, but they were free.

Freedom touched a slight swelling on his right cheek.

He had been taunted so much at breakfast - not by the prisoners but by the warders - that he had lost his temper and hurled his porridge at a particularly unpleasant warder who took delight in needling him constantly. He had made lewd gestures and implied that Freedom and his kind were up to no good. Freedom was beaten as he was dragged back to his cell. The warder, still dripping cold porridge, shouted, ‘They’ll hang you sure as I’m standing here, and, by Christ, I’ll pull the rope meself, you bastard!’

The wagon bounced and rocked over the cobbled side streets on the way to court. Freedom closed his eyes, breathed the fresh air into his lungs. As they drove through the back gates of the court yet another small group of people pelted the wagon. But a few girls stood by the gates waving flowers, calling his name. One blew him a kiss, and got a severe wallop from a man for behaving like a ‘gyppo bitch’.

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?’

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.

BOOK: The Legacy
3.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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