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‘And what will you do if the judge doesn’t give you time?’ she asked.

‘Probably lose the case,’ I said.

At least Julian Trent would then be pleased.

CHAPTER 18

As I had expected, on the Thursday morning at two minutes past ten, and prior to the arrival of the jury in the courtroom, the trial judge rejected the defence submission that there was no case to answer.

‘If it then please My Lord,’ I said, standing up. ‘The defence would like to submit a list of witnesses we wish to be summonsed.’

‘And how many witnesses are there on this list, Mr Mason?’ the judge asked rather sternly.

‘Initially I have two names, My Lord,’ I said, picking up a sheet of paper. ‘But there may be more, depending on the evidence of these witnesses.’

I passed the paper to the court usher who delivered it to the judge. He looked down at its brief contents.

‘Why have these names not been previously submitted to the court, so that summonses might have been issued to them in good time?’ he asked me.

‘My Lord,’ I said. ‘Information came to our knowledge only yesterday which indicates that these witnesses are essential to our case.’

‘And how is that?’ he asked.

‘Our case, My Lord,’ I said, ‘as detailed in the Defence Case Statement, previously submitted to the court, is that the defendant is innocent of the charges and that he is being framed for a crime he did not commit. In the light of fresh information, the defence now wishes to further this argument by calling these witnesses.

‘My Lord,’ I continued. ‘Mr Mitchell’s solicitor made an attempt to contact these potential witnesses during yesterday afternoon and evening. One of them indicated verbally to the solicitor that they had no wish, or intention, of attending court to assist the defence in this matter. Consequently, I would like to apply to the court for a witness summons.’

‘How about the other?’ asked the judge.

‘As yet we have been unable to contact the second one, My Lord,’Isaid.‘But I have every reason to expect the same outcome.’

‘Mr Mason,’ said the judge. ‘Have you shown your list to the prosecution?’

‘I have, My Lord,’ I said. ‘I gave a copy to my learned friend just prior to the court sitting this morning.’

The judge invited the prosecution to respond to the request.

‘My Lord,’ said the smarmy prosecution QC. ‘The prosecution has no objection to the summonsing of these witnesses if it is likely to aid justice. However, the defence has had ample time to prepare for this case and further procrastination should not be tolerated.’

Or in other words, I thought, we don’t object but, oh yes, we do after all. Anything to sound reasonable, while not actually being so.

The judge, God bless him, chose to hear only the first part of the QC’s statement.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘As the prosecution have no objection, I will allow a witness summons to be issued for each name. But be warned, Mr Mason, I will take a firm line if I consider that the defence is in any way wasting the court’s time. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Absolutely, My Lord,’ I said.

‘Will these witnesses be ready to be examined by this afternoon?’ asked the judge.

‘My lord,’ said the prosecution QC rising rapidly to his feet. ‘The prosecution requests more time to consider the names of these witnesses and to prepare for cross-examination.’

It was exactly as I had hoped, because I was not in any position to call my witnesses. Not yet, anyway.

‘Would you be ready by tomorrow?’ asked the judge.

‘We would prefer Monday, My Lord,’ said the smarmy QC.

‘Any objection, Mr Mason?’ asked the judge.

‘No, My Lord,’ I said, trying hard to keep a grin off my face. ‘No objection.’

‘Very well,’ said the judge. He was probably already looking forward to an extra day on the golf course. ‘Court is adjourned until ten o’clock on Monday morning.’

Excellent, I thought. Just what I had wanted, and just what I needed.

I ordered a taxi to take all my papers back to the hotel. I had previously been to the court office to get the witness summonses issued for Monday, and Bruce Lygon had departed eagerly to try and personally deliver them into the correct hands.

As I waited inside the court building lobby, I called Nikki.

‘I now have the documentation,’ she said excitedly. ‘It all came through this morning.’

‘Great,’ I said. ‘Now I have something else for you to do.’

‘Fire away,’ she said.

‘I need you to go to Newbury to ask some more questions,’ I said.

‘No problem,’ she replied.

I explained to her exactly what information I wanted her to find out, and where to get it.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Call you later.’

She hung up as my taxi arrived.

The taxi took me to the hotel and then waited as the porter carried all the boxes up to my room and I packed a few clothes into one of my new suitcases. Then the taxi took me and my suitcase to Oxford station, where we caught a fast train to London.

‘What are you doing here?’ asked Arthur as I walked into chambers soon after noon.

‘The case has been adjourned until Monday,’ I said. ‘Perhaps Sir James will be ready to take over from me by then.’

‘Er,’ said Arthur, floundering. ‘I believe that his case is still running on.’

‘Arthur,’ I said sarcastically. ‘I pay you to lie for me, not to me.’

‘Sir James pays me more than you do,’ he said with a smile.

‘Just so long as we know where we stand,’ I said.

I had no intention of telling Sir James Horley anything about my new witnesses. The last thing I wanted was for him to now feel that the case wasn’t such a lost cause after all, and for him to step back in and hog all the limelight. No way was I going to let that happen.

I went through to my room and set about looking a few things up in my case files and then I telephoned Bob, the driver from the car comapny. I urgently needed some transportation.

‘I’ll be there in about half an hour,’ he said.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I have some more calls to make anyway.’

One of them was to my father on the new mobile phone I had bought him.

‘Having a nice time?’ I asked him.

‘I suppose so,’ he said, rather reluctantly. ‘But everyone else here is so old.’ Just like him, I thought, rather unkindly.

I had sent him to the seaside, to stay in the Victoria Hotel in Sidmouth, Devon, where he could walk along the beach each day and get plenty of healthy fresh air, and where, I hoped, Julian Trent wouldn’t think of looking for him.

Next I called Weatherbys, the company that administered British horse racing, the company that had paid Scot Barlow his riding fees as detailed on his bank statements. I needed some different information from them this time and they were most helpful in giving me the answers.

I also called Eleanor and left a message on her mobile phone.

She had left the Oxford hotel early in the morning to get back to work in Lambourn, but not so early that we hadn’t had time for a repeat of the previous evening’s lovemaking.

She called me back on my mobile as Bob drove me away from chambers.

‘I got my time from the judge,’ I said to her. ‘And the witness summonses, too.’

‘Well done you,’ she replied.

‘I’m in London,’ I said. ‘The judge adjourned until Monday morning. I’ve already been to my chambers, and I’m now on my way to Barnes to face the mess. And I’ll probably stay there tonight.’