‘So when you broke into the property on Booth Street, when you saw events on the recreation ground, you were under the influence of drink and drugs. Surely these would affect your ability to see and remember what you saw?’
‘No,’ Zak contradicted her.
‘Did you work with Derek Carlton?’
‘No.’
‘But you were involved in stealing goods and the handling of stolen goods?’
‘Sometimes,’ he conceded.
‘And the supply of drugs?’
‘Not the drugs, well, not much. Personal use only.’ Zak grinned. No one else did.
‘Do you find today’s proceedings amusing?’ she asked him, her face all sour.
‘No.’
‘Then please refrain from making jokes. You are aware this is a murder trial?’
‘Course.’
‘And that we are here to get to the truth of the matter. You deny being involved with Derek Carlton but is it not the case that on more than one occasion you ferried packages between suppliers and dealers?’
Zak had done Midge the odd favour. Small scale. ‘Maybe a couple of times.’
‘I beg to differ. I suggest you were up to your neck in illicit drug dealing and associated violence and it would be very convenient for you to blame Derek Carlton for this murder thereby getting rid of the competition.’
‘No way! That’s mental!’ Zak said.
‘Is it true you said nothing until you were arrested in the course of breaking into a supermarket and attempting to steal goods?’
‘Yeah, but-’
‘Blaming Derek Carlton would be a way of evading justice.’
‘No, it’s not-’
‘I think it is. Two birds with one stone. You save your own neck and you see off a rival at the same time. You are a known criminal with a history of drug abuse, why should anyone here believe a word you say?’ Her words lashed at him.
‘You calling me a liar?’ Zak could feel the hot rush of rage in his guts.
‘Aren’t you a liar?’
‘Piss off!’
There was a flurry of reactions in the court and the judge told Zak he would be held in contempt if he was abusive.
‘I’m not lying,’ he shouted, his skin crawling, roaring in his ears.
The judge said they would take a brief break to enable the witness to compose himself and then resume.
The usher tried to calm Zak down – offered him a drink. Zak felt boxed in. He asked if he could take a leak – just needed to move, get up and out – but the guy said it’d be better to wait. They’d start again soon, he said, just answer the questions, don’t let it get to you.
Zak shuffled in the seat, muttered a bit, then the woman, skanky bitch, was back in his face again. ‘You knew Derek Carlton’s accomplices?’
‘Like who?’
‘Michael Revington? The man you called Midge?’
Zak didn’t want to talk about Midge, he felt bad. ‘Yeah.’
‘You stayed at his house, spent time with him?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You claim in your statement that Michael Revington took possession of the handgun used to shoot Danny Macateer?’
‘I think it was, no one said that-’ Zak couldn’t finish, she talked over him.
‘I suggest another version of events: I suggest you played a far greater role in things than you are admitting. I put it to you…’
Her voice banging on and on, Zak could feel his nerves jangling, sparking.
‘… that it was you who delivered that gun for safekeeping to Michael Revington and-’
‘No way! That’s slander that is, you can’t say that!’
‘And that you know a lot more about the murder of Danny Macateer than you have told the court and you have twisted everything round to suit your own ends,’ she said vehemently.
Zak’s head was bursting. She was saying he’d been in on the shooting, that he’d do something like that. ‘I’m not havin’ this-’
‘You didn’t actually see who fired that gun but that doesn’t matter, does it, the truth doesn’t matter, only saving your own skin – even if you send two innocent men to prison. This is a tissue of lies, why don’t you admit it?’
‘I’m not doin’ this. You can go fuck yourself.’ Zak got to his feet, ripped off the microphone. The usher stood up, trying to calm him.
‘Sit down!’ thundered the judge. Then everyone was yelling. Zak reached the door of the room and wrenched at it. It was locked. He kicked it hard, bastard pain in his foot. Slammed his hands against it. Smacked his head into it, hard, harder, blotting out all the thoughts, the avalanche of feelings, the thumps and slaps and curses.
Then the door was unlocked and Little was yanking him out and spitting words at him. His wolf’s grin looking like he was ready to rip Zak’s throat out. In the end Zak had to go and sit back down. It was that or be arrested then and there and banged up for contempt. He was tempted but he had Bess to think of.
There was another ten minutes of slagging off from the woman and then the other brief, the one looking after Sam Millins, started in on him. More of the same: trashing Zak’s reputation, liar, conartist, beggar man, thief. He’d invented a pack of lies to escape the law, he was a completely unreliable witness and his account could not be trusted. The fact that his evidence was even being admitted today indicated how weak the prosecution case actually was. Whoever killed Danny Macateer that day it was not his client and the garbled rag-bag account they had just heard was simply the desperate imaginings of someone who told the police what he thought they wanted to hear to escape jail himself.
‘Crap!’ Zak said.
‘Precisely,’ replied the brief. People sniggered and then he was done.
Little and Large were not pleased. He’d come within a hair’s breadth of being done for contempt and if that had happened he’d have been off the programme, beyond their protection. Plus his antics on the stand (as they called it) had been bloody atrocious. Zak couldn’t be bothered to defend himself any more.
‘You’ve done it now, your name’s out there,’ Large said, ‘in lights, Blackpool illuminations. Keep your head down and your nose clean, Ryan. There’s a lot of people would like to take you apart for what you’ve done. They’ll be looking for you.’
‘What about the reward?’ Zak asked them. ‘I kept my end of the bargain.’
Little went red, like he’d burst, and Large laughed. ‘What planet are you on, lad? Evidence leading to a conviction – could go either way thanks to your performance. There might not be any conviction. If these guys get sent down, it’ll be in spite of you not because of you.’
Zak shook his head, a bitter taste in his mouth. Shafted.
They dropped him at his flat and went to bring Bess. She danced around him like a mad thing.
‘What about a move?’ Zak asked Large. ‘You said maybe after the trial?’
‘No chance.’
‘Well, a better job then,’ he wheedled.
‘Doing what, exactly? No skills, no qualifications.’
‘I like animals.’
‘Try the Jobcentre, keep an eye out. It’s time to stand on your own two feet, Ryan.’
Stop calling me that, Zak thought.
‘Any problems, any bother, call the number,’ Large said. ‘We can get you to safety.’
‘So you’d move me if there was bother,’ Zak asked, wondering if that was a plan.
Large sighed. ‘Genuine bother, and a move could be worse than here.’
How? thought Zak.
Large got up to go and Zak said, ‘Can you give us summat to get some grub in? No money till tomorrow.’ He’d get something to take the chill away, something to make him relax.
Large shook his head but came up with a fiver anyway.
‘I need dog food an’ all,’ Zak complained. Even though he had plenty in the cupboard.
Large signalled for him to give the fiver back and gave him a ten. ‘That’s your lot,’ he said, ‘you have to make your own way now. Don’t mess up, lad.’
Zak took Bess up to the park but he couldn’t shake off the feeling he had. A dirty shame at the way they’d talked about him in court, how they’d treated him. Like he was rubbish, no respect, nothing. Like he wasn’t even a human being with feelings. He needed something to help him forget, to rub out the feeling.