‘The newspapers weren’t too happy with your verdict,’ Hawthorne said – and I saw a hint of malevolence dancing in his eyes.
Weston gave him a thin smile. ‘It was never my habit to look at the newspapers,’ he said. ‘What made them happy or unhappy had nothing to do with the facts.’
‘The facts were that she killed an eight-year-old child, crippled his brother and walked away with a slap on the wrist.’
The smile became even thinner. ‘It was the task of the prosecution to prove death by dangerous driving under Section 2a of the Road Traffic Act of 1988,’ Weston said. ‘This, they failed to do – and with good reason. Mrs Cowper did not ignore the rules of the road and did nothing that created a significant risk. There were no drugs or alcohol involved. Do I need to continue? She had no intention to kill anyone.’
‘She wasn’t wearing her glasses.’ Hawthorne glanced at me, warning me not to interrupt.
‘I agree, that was unfortunate – but you should be aware, Mr Hawthorne, that the incident took place in 2001. Since then, the law has been tightened on this particular point and I think that is entirely correct. But for what it’s worth, if I were trying the case today, even given the new guidelines, I think I might well come to the same conclusion.’
‘Why is that?’
‘I refer you to the transcripts. As the defence successfully demonstrated, the responsibility did not lie exclusively with the accused. The two children ran into the road. They had seen an ice-cream shop on the other side. The nanny briefly lost control of them. She was in no way to blame but even if Mrs Cowper had been wearing her spectacles, it is quite possible she would still have been unable to stop in time.’
‘Is that why you told the jury to let her off?’
Weston looked pained. He took a moment before answering. ‘I did no such thing and, quite frankly, I find your use of language a little offensive. As a matter of fact, it would have been quite within my jurisprudence to advise the jury not to convict and they in turn could have ignored me. I will agree that my summing-up did lean generally in Mrs Cowper’s favour but again you must consider the facts. We are talking about a very respectable person with no criminal record. She had committed no obvious offence given the law of the time. As tragic as it was for the family of the two children, a custodial sentence would have been completely inappropriate.’
Hawthorne leaned forward and once again I was reminded of the jungle animal, going in for the kill. ‘You knew her.’
Three simple words and yet they were followed by a silence that was almost physical, that slammed shut like a mortuary door. It was the moment everything changed, when Nigel Weston knew there was danger in the room. I was aware of the crackling of the fire and felt the heat of it against my face.
‘I’m sorry?’ Weston said.
‘I’m just interested that you knew her. I wonder if that had any bearing on the case.’
‘You’re mistaken. I didn’t know her.’
Hawthorne looked puzzled. ‘You were a close friend of Raymond Clunes,’ he said.
‘I don’t think—’
‘Raymond Clunes, the theatre producer. Not a name you’d forget, I’d have thought. Also, he made you a lot of money.’
Weston was keeping his composure with difficulty. ‘I do know Raymond Clunes, perfectly well. He is a social and a business connection.’
‘You invested in a show.’
‘I invested in two shows, as a matter of fact. La Cage aux Folles and The Importance of Being Earnest.’
‘Damian Cowper starred in the second one of those. Did you meet him and his mother at the first-night party?’
‘No.’
‘But you discussed the case with Clunes.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘He did.’
Weston had had enough. ‘How dare you sit here in my home and make these accusations,’ he said. He hadn’t raised his voice but he was furious. His hand had tightened around the end of his armchair. I could see the veins bulging out beneath the skin. ‘I had a very distant, tangential connection with Mrs Cowper. Anyone with any intelligence would see that every judge in this country might find themselves in the same position and, according to your logic, would be forced to recuse themselves. I’m sure you’ve heard of six degrees of separation! Anyone in the court could join the dots between themselves and the accused. As it happens, I did go to a party following the first night of The Importance of Being Earnest but if Damian Cowper or his mother were there I did not see them and I did not speak to them.’
‘And Mrs Cowper didn’t ask Raymond Clunes to approach you at the time of the trial?’
‘Why would she have done that?’
‘To persuade you to see things from her point of view. You might have listened to him because you were both … what’s the word I’m looking for?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Angels! You and Mrs Cowper were both investing in his plays.’
‘I’ve had enough of this.’ Weston got to his feet. ‘I agreed to see you because I thought I could help and I also knew you by reputation. Instead, you come here with all sorts of unpleasant insinuations and I can see absolutely no point in continuing with this discussion.’
But Hawthorne hadn’t quite finished. ‘You know that Raymond Clunes is going to jail?’
‘I’ve asked you to leave!’ Weston thundered.
So we did.
Back out in the street and on our way to the station, I turned on him. ‘What exactly did you hope to gain by that?’ I asked.
Hawthorne didn’t seem at all put out. He lit a cigarette. ‘Just testing the water.’
‘Do you really think there was some sort of gay conspiracy going on? That Raymond Clunes and Nigel Weston would have “got together”, as you’d put it, because they happened to have the same sexual orientation? Because if that’s what you think – I have to be honest with you – I think you’ve got a problem.’
‘Maybe I’ve got lots of problems,’ Hawthorne replied. He was walking more quickly, not looking at me. ‘But I didn’t mention anything about sex. I was talking about money. Why have we come all this way? Because we want to know about the accident, the connection between Diana Cowper and the Godwins. Justice Nigel Weston was part of that connection and that was all I was exploring.’
‘You think he had something to do with her murder?’
‘Everyone we meet had something to do with her murder. That’s how murder works. You can die in bed. You can die of cancer. You can die of old age. But when someone slashes you to pieces or strangles you, there’s a pattern, a network – and that’s what we’re trying to work out.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know! Maybe you’re not right for this, Tony. It’s a shame I couldn’t go with one of the other writers.’
‘What?’ I was horrified. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You heard me.’
‘You spoke to other writers?’
‘Of course, mate. They turned me down.’
Eighteen
Deal
I didn’t speak to Hawthorne on the train to Deal. We sat across from each other, on opposite sides of the aisle, and there was more distance between us than there had ever been. Hawthorne read his book, resolutely turning the dog-eared pages. I stared morosely out of the window, thinking about what he had said. Perhaps I was wrong to be offended and I did wonder which other writers he’d approached, but by the time we arrived I’d managed to put the whole thing out of my head. It didn’t matter how it had come to me. This was my book and it just made me all the more determined to make sure that I was the one in control.