Which was the right outcome.’
‘I didn’t see it like that. I didn’t think my evidence had any particular impact.’
‘Oh, it did. But there’s always a moment in a long trial when the thing swings. Juries aren’t rational, the seats are too hard, the room’s too hot, it goes on for days and days and bloody days. Weeks. Do you know the average person’s attention span is twenty minutes? And they’d listened to Danny for hours. I think they rather admired him in a funny sort of way. I know I did. But you could see them thinking, I don’t know, he seems all right… And then you came along, and you supplied them with another perspective.’
‘I didn’t change a single fact.’
‘No, but you changed the way they saw him. You scuppered him. And I can tell you the exact moment it happened. Smithers was asking you whether Danny understood that death was a permanent state. Do you remember? And you quoted Danny’s exact words. “If you wring a chicken’s neck, you don’t expect to see it running round the yard next morning.”‘
‘But he was talking about chickens. He lived on a chicken farm, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Doesn’t matter. And everybody went…’ He mimicked the intake of breath, exactly as Danny had done.
‘Danny remembers that.’
‘Does he?’ Nigel said. ‘That’s interesting.’
Tom was thinking. ‘I suppose I’ve never been easy about it, because Smithers got me on the ropes. I know he did. There was no hope of qualifying anything – he just swept it aside.’
Nigel grunted. ‘I wouldn’t blame yourself too much. All you did was quote his own words.’
‘He wasn’t referring to Lizzie.’
‘It was the attitude. All that about it didn’t really matter because she was old, she’d had her life. You ripped the mask off, and okay, you lost me the case.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m glad somebody did, because if he hadn’t been caught he’d have done it again.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘Of course. He was on to a good thing, wasn’t he? Befriending old ladies, robbing them, and if they got in the way – splat! I think you should pat yourself on the back. And if you have any bother at all with him, tell the police.’
Tom sat lost; in thought, until a discreet movement from Nigel drew his attention to their empty glasses. He roused himself to go to the bar, where he ordered another pint for Nigel and a half for himself.
He got back to the table to find Nigel chatting to two barristers, and the conversation necessarily changed to other topics.
Half an hour later, as they were leaving the pub, Nigel fell deliberately behind and drew Tom aside. ‘Look, don’t let him get to you. You told the truth. And as far as I’m concerned the only mistake’s the Home Office letting the little bugger out.’
He nodded, and hurried to catch up with his colleagues, a shoal of dark fish weaving in amongst the brightly dressed crowd.
TEN
Danny replaced the burnt matchstick carefully in the box.
Tom said, I’ve been thinking about that English teacher of yours. What was his name again?’
Danny looked wary. ‘Angus MacDonald.’
‘You were close?’
‘Yes, I suppose. Ish.’ He tapped ash offhis cigarette. ‘It was a long time ago.’
Silence, except for the pop-pop of the gas fire, and the wind slamming against the windows.
‘You know,’ Danny said suddenly, ‘all day I’ve been thinking I can’t go through with this, and now I think I can.’ He glanced at the red-shaded lamp on Tom’s desk. ‘I don’t know where to start.’
‘You said with Angus you started with little things. About the farm.’
‘Yes…’
‘Worked, then.’
‘Yeah, all right. The first thing I ever wrote for him started with me in bed on a winter’s night watching reflections on the wall, hearing people outside in the yard, shouting, calling. Feeling, you know, exiled – the way kids do when they’re in bed and everything’s still going on downstairs.’
‘Whose
‘I didn’t see it like that. I didn’t think my evidence had any particular impact.’
‘Oh, it did. But there’s always a moment in a long trial when the thing swings. Juries aren’t rational, the seats are too hard, the room’s too hot, it goes on for days and days and bloody days. Weeks. Do you know the average person’s attention span is twenty minutes? And they’d listened to Danny for hours. I think they rather admired him in a funny sort of way. I know I did. But you could see them thinking, I don’t know, he seems all right… And then you came along, and you supplied them with another perspective.’
‘I didn’t change a single fact.’
‘No, but you changed the way they saw him. You scuppered him. And I can tell you the exact moment it happened. Smithers was asking you whether Danny understood that death was a permanent state. Do you remember? And you quoted Danny’s exact words. “If you wring a chicken’s neck, you don’t expect to see it running round the yard next morning.”‘
‘But he was talking about chickens. He lived on a chicken farm, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Doesn’t matter. And everybody went…’ He mimicked the intake of breath, exactly as Danny had done.
‘Danny remembers that.’
‘Does he?’ Nigel said. ‘That’s interesting.’
Tom was thinking. ‘I suppose I’ve never been easy about it, because Smithers got me on the ropes. I know he did. There was no hope of qualifying anything – he just swept it aside.’
Nigel grunted. ‘I wouldn’t blame yourself too much. All you did was quote his own words.’
‘He wasn’t referring to Lizzie.’
‘It was the attitude. All that about it didn’t really matter because she was old, she’d had her life. You ripped the mask off, and okay, you lost me the case.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m glad somebody did, because if he hadn’t been caught he’d have done it again.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘Of course. He was on to a good thing, wasn’t he? Befriending old ladies, robbing them, and if they got in the way – splat! I think you should pat yourself on the back. And if you have any bother at all with him, tell the police.’
Tom sat lost; in thought, until a discreet movement from Nigel drew his attention to their empty glasses. He roused himself to go to the bar, where he ordered another pint for Nigel and a half for himself.
He got back to the table to find Nigel chatting to two barristers, and the conversation necessarily changed to other topics.
Half an hour later, as they were leaving the pub, Nigel fell deliberately behind and drew Tom aside. ‘Look, don’t let him get to you. You told the truth. And as far as I’m concerned the only mistake’s the Home Office letting the little bugger out.’
He nodded, and hurried to catch up with his colleagues, a shoal of dark fish weaving in amongst the brightly dressed crowd.
TEN
Danny replaced the burnt matchstick carefully in the box.
Tom said, I’ve been thinking about that English teacher of yours. What was his name again?’
Danny looked wary. ‘Angus MacDonald.’
‘You were close?’
‘Yes, I suppose. Ish.’ He tapped ash offhis cigarette. ‘It was a long time ago.’
Silence, except for the pop-pop of the gas fire, and the wind slamming against the windows.
‘You know,’ Danny said suddenly, ‘all day I’ve been thinking I can’t go through with this, and now I think I can.’ He glanced at the red-shaded lamp on Tom’s desk. ‘I don’t know where to start.’
‘You said with Angus you started with little things. About the farm.’
‘Yes…’
‘Worked, then.’
‘Yeah, all right. The first thing I ever wrote for him started with me in bed on a winter’s night watching reflections on the wall, hearing people outside in the yard, shouting, calling. Feeling, you know, exiled – the way kids do when they’re in bed and everything’s still going on downstairs.’
‘Whose
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