On the second day Hall had Bert Feltham send him the outlines of the four most urgent briefs, simply by posting them care of Dr Cox. He instructed Geoffrey Johnson to arrange the private security protection for the Hampshire mansion. He didn’t even consider telling Jennifer of the problems with Emily or of Annabelle’s growing reluctance to continue the role of surrogate mother.
All five of them were at dinner on the sixth night, as usual in Jennifer’s suite. It was Dawson who ordered the Roederer Crystal with the promise to pay for it himself, declaring a celebration for the complete return of Jennifer’s physical health that had just been announced by Dr Cox.
Jennifer insisted upon joining in her own toast. ‘Here’s to Jane’s departure. I know she’s left me.’
‘ I haven’t,’ said the familiar American voice. ‘ I’ve had a lot to think about.’
Depression swamped them. Jennifer was devastated although she didn’t fall back into immediate apathy. Legally it was a recognized ploy, acknowledged Halclass="underline" protract a case to unsettle its participants and then spring the surprise of a hearing.
‘ I’ve been looking forward to this ’ It was virtually automatic for Jennifer to mouth the words, as Jane’s puppet.
‘So have we,’ said Hall.
‘ I’m right, aren’t If I was murdered. ’
Jennifer sat with her head slightly bowed, both hands gripping the table edge. If Jane threw Jennifer into a fit she’d probably upend the table over all of them, Hall calculated. How they would stage this was something else he hadn’t anticipated: as they were, encircling a table, actually made it look like a seance. Or what he imagined a seance to be like, although he thought people were supposed to link hands. ‘I’m not sure. I haven’t heard your argument.’
‘ You first.’
‘Prosecution before defence.’
‘ My rules, not yours.’
‘Making me the prosecutor as well as the defender?’
‘ With me as the judge. The way it always had to be.’
Dawson’s head was more bowed than Jennifer’s. He had his hands clasped before him and his eyes tightly shut, his lips moving in silent prayer. Julian Mason was tensed forward, eyes bright with excitement. Cox appeared frozen, transfixed.
‘Your death wasn’t properly investigated,’ conceded Hall.
‘ It was murder! ’
‘There wasn’t a proper investigation,’ repeated the barrister, reluctant to concede anything.
‘ Do you think you’ve conducted one? ’
‘Better than that carried out at the time.’
‘ So tell them! I want everyone to hear it! I want my trial. Not the trial there should have been but for the truth to come out at last: Jennifer was panting, short-breathed from gabbling Jane’s insistence. The words that followed were measured, a threat the barrister didn’t need to hear. ‘ And I do hope you’ve got it right. Found it all out. I shall be very angry if you haven’t.’
He didn’t have any of the carefully listed notes, the points enumerated: any of the inquest statements or the replies from the American lawyer to the specific queries he’d raised. Everything was back in his own rooms, at the far end of the corridor. ‘I have to collect some papers.’
‘ What? ’
The evidence you need.’
Could he risk the courtroom ploy of engendering anger? ‘Or don’t you want to hear and see evidence to prove you wrong?’
‘ Careful! ’
‘The real truth? Or the truth according to Jane Lomax, not interested in hearing any story other than that she wants to believe?’
‘ I told you to be careful! ’
‘“Not the trial there should have been but for the truth to come out,”’ Hall quoted, throwing Jane’s words back at her.
‘ Hurry. Be very quick before I lose my patience.’
Hall indicated the cluttered table to Julian Mason as he rose, conscious of Jennifer’s pleading eyes upon him. He walked normally to his own suite, refusing to be panicked. It was all prepared, waiting. For a few moments, just seconds, he remained there, composing himself. Or delaying? he demanded. Positively he strode out of the room and back along the corridor. The table was cleared except for water, the dinner debris piled carelessly on to the coffee table by the television. The priest still prayed. Jennifer looked up at his entry, imploringly. Hall poured water first for her, then for himself.
‘ You planning any more delays? ’
‘None. Are you?’
Jennifer looked up at him again, shaking her head.
‘ She doesn’t think you can save her.’
‘We need an undertaking, don’t we?’
‘ What undertaking? ’
‘If I make the case, you’ll free Jennifer?’ pressed the barrister. He’d left normality and the ordinary behind again, he accepted. He wished he knew where that put him now.
‘ Make your case.’
It wasn’t the commitment he’d wanted but it would have to do. Hall breathed in deeply again, readying himself. He sipped some water. ‘Let me make yours, instead. I think you were murdered.’
‘ Hah! ’
A gasp came from Jennifer, too. Her look towards him now wasn’t any longer imploring. It was accusing and at the same time bewildered, the expression of someone who had been deceived and couldn’t understand why. Almost, in fact, one of guilt. The other three men were regarding him with varying degrees of astonishment: he’d discussed some but not all of the inquest disparities with them but said nothing about Humphrey Perry’s findings.
If he was to be the prosecutor, Jane had to be his witness. The realization – the full, incredible awareness – momentarily held him speechless: he was about to cross-examine the victim about her own murder. ‘He did come home that night, didn’t he? The night before you died?’ he forced himself to ask.
‘ Hey, what’s this? ’
‘The way it has to be, if you want the priest and Cox and Mason to hear your story: hear the truth. And the only way you’ll be able to judge whether I am going to get to the truth or not. So, Gerald came home that night?’
‘ Yes.’
‘After ten?’
‘ About ten-thirty.’
‘Were you in bed?’
‘ Just going.’
‘What did he say?’
‘ We’d spoken on the phone, earlier. I told him I had one of my bad headaches. I got them sometimes: Greenaway’s treatment for the stomach pains could have been contributing. Gerald said he’d driven all the way home to make sure I was all right.’
‘You’d already eaten supper?’
‘ Steak.’
‘And cleared away?’
‘ I don’t like leaving a mess.’
‘But you got something for him?’ Hall pushed her water closer to Jennifer. She ignored it.
‘ Steak. There was a lot left over, in the refrigerator.’
‘And wine? Margaux?’
‘ Gerald opened it. He liked wine.’
‘Did you sit with him, while he ate?’
‘ The commission earnings had been calculated that week. He said
…’ There was a break. ‘… He said Jennifer Stone had come out on top again, even though she’d been away from the office…’
Jennifer began to cry, soundlessly, tears edging down her face. She grabbed for the water at last, gulping it.
‘You shared the wine, while you talked?’
‘ I only had one glass: didn’t drink all of that. The headache had begun to go.’
‘Gerald drank the rest?’
‘ He enjoyed wine. Drink didn’t affect him.’
‘And he had a brandy, afterwards?’
‘ Yes.’
‘Did you go to bed straight away?’
‘ I started to clear up, put the wine bottle in the bin, but he told me he’d finish doing it. That he wanted to go to bed…’ There was another break. ‘… It was obvious he wanted to make love…’
Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut, still crying. The other three men were locked on to Jennifer, speaking for Jane. Cox’s mouth hung open.
‘So you went up ahead of him? Put your clothes away, like you usually did?’
‘ Yes.’
‘And put your underwear in the laundry basket?’
‘ Yes.’
‘And took some insulin?’
‘ I’d had problems since Dr Greenaway prescribed the stomach pills, as I told you. Nausea as well as headaches sometimes. I thought there might be a slight imbalance – I’d told Gerald, downstairs – and decided I could correct it. It was quite safe. After so long I knew exactly what I could and couldn’t do.’