‘Did you forget her son, Ben?’

  ‘Yes, just nerves, Ben. That’s it.’

  ‘And can you describe the kitchen at Rosie’s house?’

  ‘The kitchen, no. Well, we always met out somewhere, for a meal or a drink. I didn’t go to the house.’

  ‘You went out for meals together. Was that often?’

  ‘Fairly.’

  ‘Can you tell us anything Rosie liked to eat? Did she have a favourite kind of food?’

  ‘She liked Italian food.’

  ‘Italian! Osso bucco, tagliatelle. Did she have a favourite dish?’

  ‘Spaghetti Bolognese…she liked spaghetti Bolognese.’

  Judith paused before inclining her body just slightly towards the jury. ‘Rosie had been vegetarian for the last seven years of her life,’ she said. ‘I put it to you that you and Rosie were not at all close.’

  ‘We were.’

  ‘That you have manufactured this…re-kindling so that you can come here today and tell a load of untruths.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘This story about the cat, that Mr Laidlaw had to drag from you. It’s straight from a storybook.’

  ‘Your honour, Ms Burton keeps telling her own stories rather than asking questions.’ Laidlaw was crouching to deliver his remonstration, which was noticeably less forceful than his previous interventions.

  ‘I apologise your honour. I was carried away for a moment, with the creative elements of Miss Fleming’s narrative. I put it to you, Miss Fleming, that your story about a nineteen-year old Danny Mallard, wallowing in the dismembering of a domestic cat is a total fabrication, dredged up to make the jury believe Debbie is capable of cruelty and violence, when there isn’t any real evidence of this.’

  ‘No. It’s true.’ Caroline’s shoulders were thrown back and she was, again, searching the court room for reassurance.

  ‘Who is she looking for?’ Constance scribbled Judith a hasty note. Judith read it and dropped it into her pocket. She had a fair idea who it might be, but she was now poised, herself, to go in for the kill and she drew herself up to her full height in preparation.

  ‘But there is a reason why you came up with this story, this fiction about a cat, designed to show the defendant in an unsavoury light, isn’t there?’ Judith continued, ‘Together with the rest of your storyline. You haven’t just made it up on the spot this morning.’

  Caroline closed her mouth tight and the corners drooped. Jeremy Laidlaw half-stood again and gestured to Judge Nolan with a shake of his head. Judge Nolan leaned forwards in Judith’s direction and cupped a hand over her ear. Judith tried to focus, but she could already foresee a whole series of memes which would follow from the freeze frame. She opened her briefcase and took out a newspaper.

  ‘Your honour, I have here an advance copy of this week’s Sunday Mirror magazine. On page four there is an interview with Miss Fleming, which sets out her views on all the matters she has put forward in evidence this morning, and more. If I could approach the bench, I could share it with you.’

  Judge Nolan nodded and Judith hurried forwards, with Laidlaw in hot pursuit. The judge grabbed the magazine, read through the article and her face turned purple.

  ‘Turn the cameras off,’ she shouted at no one in particular.

  One usher came scuttling towards her. ‘All of them?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, all of them! And clear my courtroom. Everybody out…except Counsel. You stay put.’

  Caroline hovered halfway down from the witness box, swaying backwards and forwards, unsure whether she was included in the blanket command to leave or the more limited instruction to remain.

  ‘Miss Fleming, you should wait outside too, please, as we will resume once I have spoken to Counsel,’ Judge Nolan continued. ‘You remain under oath and must not discuss your evidence with any person, or you will be in contempt of court. Is that clear?’

  * * *

  ‘Did you know about this?’ Judge Nolan asked Laidlaw, when the public had left, brandishing the magazine like a victor’s flag and breathing heavily through flared nostrils.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he replied.

  ‘And how did you get an advance copy?’ She turned her attention to Judith.

  ‘I was handed an envelope containing the magazine as I arrived at court this morning. I don’t know who sent it, presumably someone who works for the newspaper, and I only had time to open it, shortly before we began.’

  ‘Are you saying this means Miss Fleming has perjured herself?’

  ‘I can’t say that for certain, your honour, although I think she has tacitly accepted, already, that some of her earlier testimony was overstated, but that may be the full extent of it. Clearly, we can give her the opportunity to explain when she returns. But it must cast considerable doubt on her overall credibility.’

  ‘Was she paid for this story?’

  ‘Undoubtedly.’

  ‘Mr Laidlaw. Did you not explain to your witnesses, to all prosecution witnesses, that they must not speak to the press for the duration of the trial?’

  ‘Of course, your honour. And I had no reason to doubt the veracity of this witness, or any other, for that matter. I expect the pressures of this particular case might have proved too tempting, on this rare occasion. It is still not, as Ms Burton accepts, evidence of lying under oath.’

  Judge Nolan sat back.

  ‘How did you find her, this Caroline Fleming?’

  ‘Your honour, you know I can’t divulge…’

  ‘You choose this moment to remember the extent of your professional duties.’ She banged her hand down on the desk. ‘The world is watching this trial, you know that?’ Her eyelids flickered.

  ‘Yes, your honour,’ both Counsel nodded.

  ‘Everything we say or do. We were chosen as one of the first cases, to showcase the best of our justice system. Both of you, I expect you to be very careful with anyone you bring into my courtroom. I don’t want liars giving evidence or people who just want to be famous. I want witnesses who can help us get at the truth. For God’s sake, we have a dead woman here, a good woman. We owe her more than this!’

  ‘Yes, your honour.’

  ‘Mr Laidlaw, Mr Nimble is a barrister in your chambers, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, your honour.’

  ‘Well, I should like to see him here tomorrow morning bright and early, say 8.30am, to discuss the press coverage of this trial. Can you tell him that, please?’

  ‘Yes, your honour.’

  ‘Now, when we reconvene, we have the opportunity to make it clear to the jury that Miss Fleming’s evidence is unreliable. And from now on, if there is anything that you know, or of which you become aware, during the course of this trial, which you feel puts its fairness in doubt, which compromises our justice system in any way, then I expect to be the first person to know about it, in advance, in private. Not in the media and not in my court room! Is that understood?’

  * * *

  After a thirty-minute hiatus, the public and press shuffled back into court. Caroline Fleming was restored to the witness box, but she was pale and downcast. Constance used the cover of the noise to snatch a few words with Judith.

  ‘What did Judge Nolan say?’ Constance asked.

  ‘That we have to vet our witnesses and make sure they’re all telling the truth. Other than employing a mind reader, I’m not sure how we’re supposed to do that,’ Judith replied.

  ‘And are you going to make Caroline retract her evidence?’

  ‘I’m thinking about it.’

  ‘You must, mustn’t you?’

  ‘I have a better plan,’ Judith said. ‘Oh, don’t look so worried.’

  * * *

  ‘Yes. Please continue Ms Burton.’ Judge Nolan reconvened the proceedings with a regal wave, as if her outburst had never occurred.

  Judith looked at Caroline, then at Debbie and then at Judge Nolan.

  ‘I have no further questions for this witness,’ she said.

  Judge Nolan raised her embellished eyebrows. ‘You have no further questions for this witness?’ she repeated.

  ‘No, thank you, your honour.’ Judith shook her head, just to make her point crystal-clear.

  ‘Miss Fleming, you are free…’

  ‘I have a question.’ Judge Nolan’s booming voice cut through Laidlaw’s release of his witness. Laidlaw looked at Judith. Judith ignored him. Constance shifted in her seat.

  ‘Miss Fleming. Did you give an interview to the Sunday Mirror, to be published this coming Sunday, in which you described matters on which you have been giving evidence today in court?’ Judge Nolan said.

  ‘Yes.’ Caroline’s face was now pale yellow.

  ‘Were you remunerated in any way for the interview?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘How much were you paid?’

  Caroline fidgeted with a tiny, diamante earring.

  ‘Sixteen thousand pounds,’ she said.

  There was a low muttering in the court, which was silenced when the judge waved her hand over them all.

  ‘And when you were interviewed, were you asked, in particular, if you could “remember” and I use the word in the loosest possible sense, any salacious stories about the defendant, Debbie Mallard?’

  ‘I…that doesn’t make what I said untrue,’ Caroline pouted miserably.

  ‘But it makes you an unreliable witness in my court room and I will direct the jury accordingly,’ Judge Nolan replied. ‘And I urge the police to look carefully at what you have said here today and to draw the appropriate conclusions. I will not have people lying in my court room! Mr Laidlaw, you may now release your witness.’

  * * *

  ‘That was a bit risky, wasn’t it?’ Constance asked Judith, once they were in the sanctuary of their breakout room.

  Judith sat down and eased off her shoes, one by one. ‘I needed to show it was all made up, the money trouble, the violence, the cat.’

  ‘It would have been safer just to ask her.’

  ‘There was no reason for me to cross-examine Caroline further. I was at a high point. She said she never liked Danny, I’d dropped the hint she fancied him herself, she accepted that Rosie never said Debbie hurt her and I’d made my point, which was that she made the whole mutilated cat story up to manufacture an exclusive for the press.

  ‘Then the judge threw a tantrum, which reinforced for the jury that Caroline had done something pretty bad. Why would I give Caroline any opportunity to explain or come back with further negative things about Debbie? And, if I may say so, it worked even better than I planned because, first of all, Laidlaw was so shocked he forgot to re-examine, or maybe he realised what a liability his witness was and that he needed to get rid of her before she did more damage, and then the judge herself called Caroline out as an unreliable witness. I thought it was text-book, better than text-book, a masterclass.’

  ‘How did you know Judge Nolan would come down on her so heavily?’

  ‘I knew Judge Nolan was all fired up, wanted to show everyone that she was in control, especially given all the criticism from yesterday.’

  ‘I didn’t see that.’

  ‘Is that because you were too busy watching TV? I read it in the Mail Online, I think. They called her the “Red Queen” like in Alice in Wonderland. You know, off with her head! because she switched off the cameras. They were really scathing. Then the Guardian got David Benson to comment that he expected co-operation from all parts of the justice system. Poor Bridget. Not sure she deserved that disparagement. But, knowing that she was likely to be more sensitive than usual as a result, I used my judgement, as I always do. God knows what they’ll say now she did it a second time.’

  ‘Whatever you say. You’re the boss.’

  Judith paused with a shoe still in her hand. Constance didn’t usually challenge her methods so directly and especially not when things were going well.

  ‘You know that’s not how I see us, Connie,’ she said. ‘We are a team. And we have Rosie’s mother this afternoon. I need you onside.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I say, you just do what you want.’

  ‘That’s not true. I listened to you about the glove. I ran with it despite my reservations, and I’m still not certain it was the right thing to do. But I can’t go back now and ask Caroline any more questions, even if I wanted to, so let’s move on. What exactly do you want me to do next? Go on. I am listening.’

  Constance pulled a can of lychee water from her bag, opened it and took a gulp.

  ‘All right. Here’s what I think,’ she said. ‘Go easy on Mrs Harper. She’s lost her daughter. It was acceptable with Caroline to push her around, especially once you knew about the Mirror interview, but the public will hate you if you interrogate Mrs Harper the same way.’

  ‘This shouldn’t be about what the public thinks of me. I’ve told you. I’m not changing my ways.’

  ‘Well it is now. You’ve seen that. You and Laidlaw, with Andy Chambers’ commentary. They analyse your every move – how you ask your questions, if you’re trying to trip up the witnesses, if you’re bullying them!’

  Judith sighed, then she began to massage her foot. ‘I agree with everything you just said about Elaine Harper, but I can’t promise to go soft on her. It all depends what she says in the box. If she’s bland, I’ll follow suit. But if she’s poisonous, you can’t expect me to let it go. I’ll have to challenge her hard.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Is there something else that’s bothering you?’ Judith asked.

  Constance pouted. How could she tell Judith that she was cross that the Caroline Fleming article had been handed directly to Judith, bypassing her? Judith was the face of the defence, to the outside world, so it wasn’t surprising. Even so, it made her feel inconsequential.

  ‘Do you know why we’ve lost another juror?’ she asked, changing the subject, to give herself time to stifle her disappointment.

  ‘You mean on top of the two women who Bridget worried might get nobbled?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t even remember who it was.’

  ‘Young guy, blue shirt, second left. It seems that he had been checking the internet in all the breaks and one of the other jurors told on him. That’s why he’s gone and “now there are only eleven”. He wasn’t ill, just in big trouble. Apparently, Bridget then read the rest of them the riot act about contempt of court. I heard it from her clerk.’

  ‘Poor Judge Nolan. She must wish she’d taken a sabbatical too.’

  ‘I warned her about them keeping their devices, not that it did me any good. I suspect she’ll think I’m smug about all this and come down on us even harder.’

  ‘Not that you are…smug or anything.’

  ‘I don’t like the word smug. I prefer to say that I predicted, with accuracy, what was likely to occur.’

  ‘Can we move on from this to talk about the money trouble motive?’

  ‘I’m not one to gloat.’

  ‘It just doesn’t add up.’

  ‘What did Debbie say?’

  ‘She says she doesn’t know anything about the payments out of Rosie’s account, claimed Rosie looked after their finances, that she doesn’t have much money of her own, which is probably not very helpful to know.’

  ‘Maybe, go and see Jason Fenwick, again. See if you can find out what Rosie was paid and if he knows what those payments might have been. I’m sure he’s dying to help, in any way he can.’

  Constance opened her laptop and began tapping away. They didn’t speak for some minutes.

  32

  Elaine Harper was dressed entirely in black, with black earrings and black nail polish to complement her outfit. Although she was in her late sixties, she remained a strikingly attractive woman. She had refused to speak to Constance some weeks earlier, but an advance copy of her statement had provided a steer of what her evidence would be, and it wasn’t helpful.

  ‘Mrs Harper, I know this must be most distressing for you, so please let me know if you require any breaks at any time.’ Laidlaw began at his oily best and was rewarded by a sob from the witness. ‘Mrs Harper, when did you last see your daughter, Rosie?’

  ‘I saw her two weeks before her death, on the 31st of May, but we spoke the night before.’ Elaine Harper’s mouth hinged open on one side only when she spoke, giving her delivery a staccato quality. The physical resemblance between Elaine and her now dead daughter was evident, but where Rosie had been gentle and supportive, at least on camera, Elaine seemed brittle, every syllable delivered like an accusation.

  ‘And when you saw Rosie, what were the circumstances?’

  ‘It was my birthday. I invited her and the children over. We had some Prosecco and a light supper.’

  ‘And did she tell you that anything was bothering her?’

  ‘No. But the children, my grandchildren, were there.’ She looked out into the gallery, spied Laura and Ben, gave them a half smile, then returned her gaze to Laidlaw.

  ‘I see. Did you get the impression from anything Rosie said or did that something might have been bothering her?’

  ‘I thought she seemed a bit quiet, thoughtful. And she’d lost weight.’

  ‘She’d lost weight?’

  ‘She was never big but, well, her clothes were hanging off her. And she picked at her food, left most of it.’

  ‘When you spoke to her on the telephone, the night before she died, was she more forthright?’

  ‘She said that Debbie was coming over the next day to talk about Ben, my grandson, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.’

  ‘Did she explain what she meant by that?’ Laidlaw leaned forward and gave the camera his best shot at empathy.

  ‘She didn’t have to. I knew what she meant.’

  ‘And what was that?’ Laidlaw was speaking softly, cajoling the witness.