‘Judith is a barrister, like me,’ he said. ‘We are bound by our professional obligations to act with the utmost integrity. When Judith told the court that she had sought help from an expert, who’d confirmed evidence some of the diary entries weren’t genuine, that will have been the absolute truth. It was always open to Mr Laidlaw to bring his own expert evidence to the contrary. The fact that he didn’t bother tells its own story. And the diaries were important evidence. It was right and proper that Judith was allowed to test their authenticity.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Katrina said. Andy now knew her well enough to suspect this was the precursor to a really tricky question, but, tonight, he felt he could handle anything.

  ‘Earlier in the week,’ she continued, ‘we talked about whether it was ever acceptable to bully a witness, particularly in the light of the Caroline Fleming debacle. Wasn’t Jeremy Laidlaw’s exchange with Debbie Mallard precisely that, especially towards the end?’

  ‘It may have appeared harsh, but he was just doing his job,’ Andy said. ‘Sometimes, if a witness is hiding something and you apply pressure, the truth is forced out.’

  ‘Apply pressure!’ Katrina’s eyes were wide, bottomless pools. ‘That sounds rather like the end justifying the means,’ she said.

  ‘Which it sometimes does.’

  ‘If we take that to its logical conclusion, we may as well torture confessions from our defendants and save the cost of the trial.’ Katrina gave a half laugh, as she exchanged a knowing glance with Chris.

  They both looked across at Andy expectantly. Andy waited for the voice in his ear to tell him which way to jump, but it was silent. He thought of Clare, at home watching, or perhaps busy with the kids, with the programme on record to watch later, and of his colleagues (or at least his pupil) viewing this from their local wine bar.

  ‘I think that we risk being overly sensitive, speaking from this sanitised environment, when the reality is that seventy per cent of those prosecuted for murder are found guilty,’ he said. ‘The lawyers’ job is to expose those individuals, to reveal their crimes, so that they can be punished and they won’t go on to kill or harm anyone else. That’s an enormous responsibility on our lawyers and we have to give them the tools to operate.’

  Katrina opened her mouth to speak, but Andy kept on going.

  ‘In other countries, it’s acceptable to apply physical or mental pressure on suspects to find the truth,’ he said. ‘Some people would say that we should do the same here. That the best way to obtain a confession from someone who has beaten an old man to death with a brick to steal his pension, or knifed a shopkeeper for cigarettes, or kicked his pregnant girlfriend in the stomach till she lost her unborn child, is to respond in the only language they understand; that of violence.’

  ‘Surely, you’re not advocating…’

  ‘Lawyers in this country, in England and Wales – to be fair in all of the United Kingdom – we have rules of procedure and rules of evidence, and quite rightly so. But that means that sometimes victims have to face their attackers in court and relive the horror of their experiences, or key evidence is disallowed, because of a technicality.

  ‘When you view Jeremy Laidlaw’s questions to Debbie Mallard in that context; seeking to expose a potentially vicious criminal while complying with the rules imposed on him by a civilised society and trying to protect potential witnesses from harm at the same time, I think everyone at home will appreciate that his behaviour was totally appropriate. Digging around, pressing the defendant verbally to focus on the matter in hand and not avoid the issues, is really not oppressive when viewed against the background of a brutal murder.’

  * * *

  Constance had spent the afternoon industriously. First, she had taken the tracker from Debbie’s phone and re-traced her steps from the day of Rosie’s murder. Now she knew where Debbie had gone after leaving Rosie’s house and before her training session.

  Then, she had moved on to Nicki’s emails to Rosie. They were long and rambling and rather disjointed, not like the words selected by the articulate person who had held her own – and more – during their interview. She had a sudden thought and spent a few minutes searching around the internet. Then she laughed aloud. She wasn’t quite there, but the pieces of the puzzle were sliding into place.

  * * *

  Andy went straight to the bathroom at the end of his session, where he doused his face with water. He couldn’t be certain (the usual debrief would come later this evening) but he felt, instinctively, that he had done well tonight, even if he’d ended up defending Jeremy Laidlaw. He had even begun, for a few brief seconds, to relax, which must be a good sign.

  Not only was he proud of himself, he was relieved, too. He had never sent his draft contract with Court TV to Clare or the promised employment lawyer, knowing from his own reading of it that it contained some fairly draconian provisions and that he really wanted to sign up without making waves.

  Andy walked back towards the studio and stood for a moment, looking through the glass at Phil, who was, in turn, watching Katrina and Chris in the studio. Then he wandered around the studio and stared out of the window at the London street below. Turning around, he noticed the closed door with the ‘no entry’ sign again, and this time, once more, it was slightly ajar.

  He approached with some trepidation, then pushed it open and stepped inside. A man wearing headphones, with an integral microphone, was seated at a desk, with his back to Andy. He was watching the show through a small window, which corresponded to the dark window Andy had viewed from the other side. He was making notes on an iPad. Andy came closer and waited.

  After a few seconds only, the man’s back straightened and he turned slowly around.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘You found me then?’

  Andy was silent. He wanted the man to speak some more.

  ‘You were excellent tonight,’ the man said. ‘Quite a match for our presenters. That’s why I didn’t need….’

  ‘Who are…’

  ‘Apologies. My name’s Gregory Winter. I’m a friend of Graham’s,’ the man said, holding out his hand for Andy to shake. ‘I’ve been standing in for him the last few days.’

  ‘Why are you hiding away?’ Andy asked.

  ‘I have my own reasons for wanting to keep my involvement quiet – nothing illegal, before you become concerned. And sitting in here is perfect, without any distractions, I can focus really clearly on all of you.’

  And Andy laughed aloud and with relief. The man’s voice perfectly matched the one he’d been hearing in his head this last week.

  45

  Constance and Judith sat opposite each other in Caffè Nero on Cheapside the following morning. Constance had treated herself to a pot of yoghurt, Judith was on her second espresso.

  ‘Poor Charlie.’ Judith pushed aside a copy of Metro with an image of protesters surrounding Dawson adorning the front page. ‘The Police Commissioner is bound to suspend him now,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t really have any choice, but it’s not right.’

  ‘Would you still say that, if he did plant the glove?’ Constance replied.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You think the glove was on the floor all the time, then; just left behind?’

  ‘Charlie said it was there when he came in and I believe him. Anything else, I haven’t a clue. What do the Twitter polls say today, then?’

  ‘40:60.’

  ‘Only 40% think Debbie is guilty?’

  ‘Yep. Well done you!’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m so deserving of praise. Presumably, a lot of people still think Debbie killed Rosie, even after all we’ve done.’

  ‘But look how far we’ve come.’

  ‘Yes. God, when the diaries came out, I thought we’d had it. But there was something so manufactured about them, even Laidlaw was forced to accept that.’

  ‘Rosie must have been desperate to write them.’

  ‘Why are you always so charitable? She told lies, and pretty nasty ones, to get an easy ride through the system, and it’s only thanks to…well, thanks to your persistence and Greg’s skill, that she hasn’t dragged Debbie down with her.’

  ‘You didn’t ask Dawson about the money?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He told me not to.’

  ‘And you listened to him? You never do that.’

  ‘I know. I saw him before we went in, after the mob roughed him up. He said it was totally irrelevant and he asked me, in the strongest possible terms, not to take things further.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘They must still be investigating and suspect some kind of fraud. Maybe that’s why it took so long to extract information from Rosie’s laptop.’

  ‘You know there’s a gap in the timing I haven’t mentioned before,’ Constance asked.

  ‘Why do I get this tingling at the back of my neck when you say that?’

  ‘Debbie went somewhere when she left Rosie’s. She didn’t go straight home. I asked her about it and she got pretty upset. I wondered if it was…you know, Mr X, her new lover. She demanded that I didn’t check it out.’

  ‘So you did?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s a doctor’s surgery.’

  ‘Perhaps her new flame works there.’

  ‘No. She’s been seeing a neurologist there, for some months. A neurologist is…’

  ‘I know what a neurologist is! She’s ill, Debbie? Maybe we can use it.’

  ‘I told you she was adamant not. That was before her whole speech to me this morning about winning on her own merit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She’s seen all the stuff over the weekend. Who could miss it? And then I showed her the Rapunzel video, like we agreed. She doesn’t want to win because she’s trans. She wants to win because she’s innocent.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Judith said. ‘Talk about fussy!’

  Constance opened her mouth wide.

  ‘I was joking,’ Judith said, seeing the look of incredulity on Constance’s face. ‘I am not totally devoid of empathy. I want that too and I’m hoping that’s precisely what we’ll get, which is no more than Debbie deserves. But forgive me for wishing that the sooner we finish and get the verdict, the better, before any more skeletons emerge.’

  ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’ve finally had the chance to look properly at Nicki’s emails to Rosie.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘That’s the thing. They’re mostly copied, cut and pasted, from other articles. I checked with this app. That’s why they don’t read fluently.’

  ‘What does that mean, then?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe it just means she was lazy or she isn’t great with words; well, not written words.’

  Judith checked her watch. ‘What time did Greg say?’ she asked.

  Constance acknowledged the change of subject with a frown. Judith had never been very interested in Nicki.

  ‘Now, he said now. He’ll be here, just be patient,’ she said.

  And right on cue, Greg walked through the door and settled himself at their table.

  ‘What have you got for us?’ Judith asked.

  ‘I haven’t found the person who sent Rosie the video, yet.’

  ‘What have you been doing then?’

  ‘I worked all through Friday night on the diaries,’ he said. ‘Then I had to get the Rapunzel folder unlocked. Today, I’ve traced the email account to a coffee shop on Baker Street and I’ve been there just now. There’s free use of the internet and an unknown person sent the video from there to Rosie Harper’s personal email address on 1 April 2017. It must have been a nice April Fool surprise for Rosie. And before you ask, there is no way of telling who sent that email or the two follow-ups.’

  ‘Follow-ups?’

  ‘Asking for money, telling her where to send it.’

  ‘Blackmail. Damn!’ Judith stood up and walked a few paces away from them before returning. ‘How stupid I never thought of that. At least that means it’s unlikely to be Ben.’

  ‘Should we tell Dawson?’ Constance ventured.

  Judith smiled. ‘This time Dawson was one step ahead of us,’ Judith said. ‘That’s why he told me not to ask him about the money leaving Rosie’s account. But he can’t have known about the video, can he? Had anyone else accessed that folder?’

  ‘Not as far as I could see. It took me hours to open it and, I’d like to say, years of experience. I doubt the police had the time to devote to it – or the requisite skill.’

  ‘But what do we do with it?’ Constance asked. ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘And if we want to use it to shift suspicion away from Debbie on to whoever sent the video, we’ll have to show it. And we can’t do that.’ Judith was pacing again.

  ‘Why not?’ Greg was serious now.

  ‘Why not? Because all our efforts, weeks of work, have been to cultivate an image for Debbie of a quiet, demure, plain-speaking, loving, devoted spouse. That will all be thwarted by two minutes forty-two seconds of nonsense. If we show the video, no one will listen to the blackmail bit. They’ll focus on what Debbie was doing at Madame Jojo’s and how she looks. Hardly the shrinking violet.’

  ‘Then you’ll say it’s totally irrelevant. That the blackmail is the key to it all.’

  ‘Is it? You don’t even know who sent it. Instead, Laidlaw will rub his hands with glee; Christmas coming early and all that. He’ll ask whose knee she’s sitting on. Debbie will have to confess her lover and then he’ll say this was all about her lover and that she lied about being in love with Rosie and that if she lied about that, she lied about everything.’

  ‘And Debbie has forbidden us to use it,’ Constance added.

  Greg motioned to both of them to listen. ‘It’s unlikely I can find where the emails came from – or not quickly enough to be of any use – but I have thought of a possible way of tracing who the blackmailer might be.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘I’ll need to do some research and make a few calls. I’ll get onto it now. What should I do if I find out?’

  ‘Go straight to Dawson, if he hasn’t been booted out of the force by now. He’ll listen. I know he will.’

  ‘All right. But I don’t think you should be so worried about showing the video, even if I don’t find out who sent it. In fact, I really think you need to get Debbie to talk about it in the witness box, today.’

  ‘Why on earth would we do that? You heard Connie. It’s the last thing she’s going to want to do,’ Judith replied.

  ‘I understand Debbie might not like it, but since when was that a consideration for you? This is how I see it. You’ve done brilliantly so far in picking holes in the prosecution case, and, inadvertently, in raising the profile of the whole issue of discrimination against trans women, but that’s not the end of the story. The public hasn’t connected with Debbie personally, yet.’

  ‘Connected?’

  ‘Hear me out. I’ve been watching all the social media platforms very closely. People are still not sure how much they like Debbie or trust her, even with all the anti-police stuff. And Laidlaw has made a good job of making her look selfish and mean. They adored Danny, and why did they adore him?’

  ‘He helped his country win a huge international football title?’

  ‘All right, but more than that, he performed when it was needed and he carried people along with him. There was an emotional connection. This is an opportunity for Debbie to steal the limelight, literally. To wear her heart on her sleeve, and they’ll love it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The public loves vulnerability. This “performance” has it in buckets. I doubt it will be the main reason she’s acquitted – that will be down to all your hard work, raising a reasonable doubt and all that – but, if that happens, and I believe it will, she wants to have a life afterwards, not be hiding her face away. I mean, look at OJ! The lawyers got him off, but everyone thought he did it, even his friends. And within a few years he was back inside. And I can tell you, without giving away any confidences, that Court TV BTS will major on this video this evening.’

  Judith picked up her coffee cup and then put it down again.

  ‘Connie. You’re more in touch with what’s going on than I am. What do you think?’

  Constance reclaimed the laptop from Greg and replayed the first part of the video.

  ‘I think Greg’s right,’ she said. ‘You know, if I think back, I never really believed Debbie was innocent, until the day they wouldn’t let her wear her makeup.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The prison guard took her makeup away one morning last week. Just for a moment, when she told me about it, I saw how that made her feel. Then she covered it up. But in that moment – that’s when I believed in her. And the public don’t care about cold, clinical evidence; gloves and trophies and money going in and out of bank accounts. They don’t like people who are detached and distant and reined in, like Debbie has been, like we’ve encouraged her to be. They want people to be real and raw and to expose their souls. Then they will judge them as human beings.’

  Judith shifted her weight from one foot to the other and then she laughed out loud.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘I’m thinking back to David Benson’s intro to all of this; his grand transparency scheme, allowing the public to “judge cases on the evidence”. That’s what he said. The irony is that you’re perfectly right. The evidence only takes things so far. All right. Let’s try. I can’t see how we’ll get Debbie to volunteer anything about this video, though,’ Judith said.

  ‘You’ll find a way,’ Greg said, grinning widely. ‘You always do.’