Bendigo
Monday 10 October
Miss Juno was at Evie’s front door early in the morning. ‘Mr Campbell thought you might like some company while you get ready,’ she explained. ‘The magistrate will see us at ten.’ Her grooming was meticulous, as usual, even at this hour. She stepped past Evie and into the hallway. ‘Let’s start with a cup of tea. Down this way?’ she asked, removing her gloves. ‘Are you all right?’
Evie nodded. ‘A bit shaken, to be honest.’
Miss Juno pressed her arm. ‘We heard that you might have had a bit of bother last night. Mr Campbell wants to reassure you that all went as well as can be expected. Mr Barrett has done a fine job.’
Evie followed Miss Juno into the kitchen. She didn’t have the energy to explain about all the candles sitting around, burned down to stubs. ‘Mr Campbell already knows I had a “bit of bother”?’
‘Mr Barrett was surveilling, you see, and followed a certain nuisance of a man from here to a woman’s place, the man’s mother we believe. Mr Barrett reported quite early this morning at Mr Campbell’s home. Very diligent.’
Evie groped for a chair and slumped into it. ‘The nuisance rattled my windows and the door handles.’ She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. ‘I’d much rather he’d been apprehended. I’m exhausted and tetchy.’
Miss Juno had filled the kettle and was stoking the cooker. ‘Nearly over. Today is the day.’
‘I’m worried the magistrate will find against me.’
‘My dear Miss Emerson. Mr Campbell is your lawyer, and he and Mr Barrett are your champions. Clearly also, Mr and Mrs Kingsley. Now, you must assist by being quite calm, well dressed, your face washed and complexion clear. After our tea, we will use the tea leaves in a pouch of muslin over your eyes to give them a rest.’ Miss Juno sat at the kitchen table.
‘Is this your usual advice, Miss Juno?’
The woman smiled, and her plain, sometimes sombre features bloomed, transforming her. ‘We will give these dastardly Cooper creatures a run for their money. For once, we have managed to convince a number of women to write statements regarding the truth of their matters with Mr Cooper. If the magistrate looks at even a couple of those, he will see a pattern emerging.’ Her smile broadened. ‘I always find it exhilarating when women band together to fight a common enemy.’
Evie was tired. ‘Men? Surely not all of them.’
Miss Juno reached over and pressed her hand. ‘Oh, of course not. Now come along. By mid afternoon this will all be behind you, and you can begin life anew.’
Evie dragged in a big sigh. ‘I don’t feel I have the energy.’
‘You have more than you know. I do realise, however, that you might have spent a great deal of it whacking Mr Cooper with the poker.’ Her eyes were merry.
Evie gave a burst of laughter. ‘Oh, there’s certainly more where that came from, Miss Juno.’
‘I’m sure. In self-defence, of course.’
‘Could he state that I attacked him?’
‘He could, but we have a witness who saw what he was up to, so his argument would fail.’ Miss Juno reverted to her serious self. ‘You were defending yourself and your property. Soon, he won’t be a problem for you.’
‘Edwin Cooper is wily and manipulating,’ Evie cried. ‘Will anything really stop him, win or lose?’
‘We will stop him bothering you, Miss Emerson. Whether it stops him from doing it to someone else in the future, well … Mr Campbell has long come across this type of behaviour in people, mainly men, I’m afraid.’ Miss Juno’s disapproval showed in a frown. ‘It does prove to be almost intractable. Conviction and gaol is best, preferably for a long time. But a conviction is not always a sure thing, and is very hard to come by.’ She took a breath and added, almost apologetically, ‘And even if the law does do something about them, sometimes they can’t be stopped. There’s a scientific medical thread, in England and on the continent, which theorises that the behaviour has something to do with Narcissus, if you read Greek mythology, exploring the behaviour as a mental condition. Apparently, it’s thought to be imbedded in the personality, and not curable.’
Oh dear. That did not bode well at all.
‘How on earth do you know—’
‘My father’s brother is a physician in England, very much interested in the criminal mind,’ Miss Juno said, smiling. ‘Our letters are quite interesting. The papers on the subject are indeed illuminating.’
Oh.
The courthouse, the building, had never appealed to Evie. Perhaps it was knowing what went on inside; all that law business, where people’s emotions were set aside while wrongdoings were dealt with coldly and without favour. Supposedly.
She must be overtired; of course the courts dealt fairly. Really, Evie? Ask any woman if the courts deal fairly. Frustrated and foggy after her few terrible nights, she tut-tutted. Oh, for goodness’ sake, fair or not, what will be will be.
Relatively new, the court building had risen slowly from dirt and rubble and into the great ugly nub it had now become, the work continuing. Evie had watched its progress along with everyone else, but never in her wildest dreams had she expected that she would have to attend a session here herself, in front of a magistrate. Hopefully with Mr Campbell’s help the situation would not be as daunting as she feared.
Directed down a corridor towards the courtroom and accompanied by Miss Juno, Evie had passed a small room in which had sat Edwin Cooper, his mother and his sister. Haughty glares had met her gaze as she passed them. She’d begun to shake, desperately glad she hadn’t been told to sit in there with them. Miss Juno had just given her a pat on the back, as if to say, ‘Come along.’
The first thing that hit her as she entered the courtroom was the scent of oily furniture polish on new timber, and the smell of recently applied paint. There were no windows, just vents high up on the wall. A sudden weight dropped on her chest. No way out of here except behind me.
Mr Campbell was already in situ at a table facing the magistrate’s bench. He stood as she approached and, towering over her, he bent a little. ‘Miss Emerson. How are you?’
‘I truly don’t know, Mr Campbell.’
Miss Juno indicated that she should sit on the chair between Mr Campbell’s and the one she would take. She removed a writing pad and pencil from her bag and sat back, her hands clasped primly on her lap. The room was empty of other people. Adjacent were another table and three chairs. That must be for the Coopers.
‘Now, this is not a court with a jury, Miss Emerson. We are only before the magistrate, a Mr Rudge, but he will rule. He’s a decent fellow, a family man, has a second family now, after his first wife died. He’s well used to shenanigans and has had many cases before him. I must warn you, though. At times he can be cranky and somewhat eccentric. He might appear sometimes as if he’s asleep—’
Evie’s few hopes sank.
‘—but I can assure you, he will not be.’
Daring only to look behind her the once, she saw a number of people filing inside and taking up the seats in the courtroom. Mr and Mrs Kingsley each gave her a quick smile, Mr Barrett was there, Ann and Posie had come in arm in arm, each giving her a little wave as they shuffled towards their seats. She turned back, aware that others were still filing in, the chatter subdued. She hoped they were ‘her’ people, but didn’t turn around again to check in case her glance accidentally met with the Coopers’.
Raff. If only Raff were here.
Her mouth was dry. She knew a journalist from the newspaper would be here, but would they treat her fairly?
Oh heavens, Fitz should be here, too.
And then it began.
Evie held her breath. Everyone stood as the magistrate came through a door behind the bench and settled in his chair. Indicating with a wave of his hand that they should sit, he looked about the room and the people seated at the back. His gaze alighted on the plaintiff and defendant, and their supports, as if studying their characters. She felt a hot rush of blood to her face and neck as he assessed her.
He swung to the Cooper’s table. ‘Mr Cooper. No lawyer for you?’
Edwin stood. ‘I have no need of one, sir. My charge will stand on its own merit.’ Evie could just imagine the smug glance Edwin slid at her.
‘Is that so?’ Mr Rudge peered at Edwin. ‘Well, you first. Off you go.’
‘Me? He’s the lawyer.’ Edwin pointed at Mr Campbell.
The magistrate rolled his eyes. ‘Cooper v Emerson, Mr Cooper. The plaintiff, that’s you, goes first.’ When Edwin stuttered, Mr Rudge overrode him. ‘Mr Cooper, the documents before me say you are charging Miss Emerson with breach of marriage contract.’
‘I am, sir.’
Arrogant, self-righteous, haughty ratbag. Evie didn’t glance sideways at him.
‘Who have you there, the two ladies with you?’
‘My mother Mrs Cooper, and my sister, Miss Jane Cooper.’
‘I see.’ Mr Rudge took a good look at them, scowling for some moments, squinting, then tucked in his chin appearing to read further. ‘You seem unlucky in the marriage stakes, sir. There are quite a few of these cases mentioned here in the papers before me.’
Mr Campbell started. ‘Your—’
‘Is there?’ Edwin asked, rattled.
‘Well, Mr Cooper?’ the magistrate asked.
Edwin recovered. ‘It’s true, of course. I am unfortunate. My nature is to take the high emotions expressed to me on face value, and I believe them to be true, and honourable. I fear perhaps my naivety in these matters works against me.’
Evie heard the outright lie with her mouth open. She stared at the magistrate, who had his head bent still perusing the documents in front of him. Had he even heard the despicable liar? Was he awake, or had he dropped off, despite what Mr Campbell had said?
Then the magistrate’s head bobbed up. ‘Really? And what high emotions were expressed to you by the defendant?’
Evie’s colour rose again. The room was silent except for Mr Campbell’s large fingers tapping a pencil rhythmically, softly on the table.
‘That Miss Evie Emerson, the woman sitting right there bold as brass, agreed to become my wife.’
She only heard her own intake of breath, felt her heart hammer. Liar.
The magistrate regarded Edwin head to toe. ‘Was there swooning, or smelling salts needed to rouse her from the effects of her over-excitement at the undoubted happy prospect? Did she make a great show of spreading the titillating news that she was to be married to … you, to all her friends?’ At Edwin’s bemused shake of his head, Rudge went on. ‘There was hardly high emotion on her part then,’ he said dismissively. ‘But I grant you, the news might have evoked emotion in some folk. Amusement, perhaps.’
There was a snicker of laughter.
‘Despite her reputation,’ Edwin continued, unabashed and righteous, ‘I offered her the sanctuary of my name.’
What? Evie glanced in horror at Mr Campbell, who merely raised his eyebrows in the direction of the magistrate.
‘Your Honour,’ he said tiredly.
Mr Rudge nodded at him, but waved at Edwin. ‘Do please continue.’
‘She admitted to me,’ Edwin said, encouraged, ‘that she had allowed another to dally with her—’
Evie’s breath stopped. There was a sudden kerfuffle in the gallery behind her but she didn’t dare look.
‘—but because she was enamoured of me, had regretted her sin, and begged me to accept her. Which, of course, I did.’
The magistrate’s eyes disappeared into slits. ‘Did you say “sin”, Mr Cooper?’ His button nose had folded into wrinkles, shortening it.
Edwin faltered. ‘I did.’
‘Pompous of you, isn’t it?’ Mr Rudge glowered. ‘“Who among you is without sin, cast the first stone”, eh?’
Bewildered, Evie stole a glance at Mr Campbell, who appeared not to be following either. His usually bland and kindly face was lined with consternation.
Edwin hesitated again. ‘Well, I—’
‘And you offered your proposal, even aware of such a “sin”?’
‘I am a good man, Your Honour.’
‘Lord save us,’ the magistrate muttered. He lifted his chin. ‘Well, Mr Campbell? What say you about your defendant?’
After his initial assessing of her, Evie was sure the magistrate hadn’t so much as noticed she was still sitting there. What hope did she have if he wouldn’t even try to gauge the honest person she was?
Mr Campbell stood. ‘Your Honour, I have been engaged to defend the spurious charge of breach of contract.’
‘Quite.’ Mr Rudge was nodding. ‘Mr Campbell, what do you make of Mr Cooper’s … whatever you want to call it?’
‘A fabrication, sir.’
‘What part?’
Evie burned at that.
‘All of it, including his very last utterance,’ Mr Campbell said, decisively. ‘You have the documents we prepared to back our case.’ He sat.
‘Mmh. So, back to you, Mr Cooper,’ the magistrate said, his eyes wide. ‘You offered your … sanctuary, only to have it rejected. I’d have thought, man, that if the lady had “sinned”, her rejection would have let you off the hook.’
‘It was the promise of a happy marriage, a loving home. An obedient wife. And … a man needs his comfort.’
Gorge rose in Evie’s throat, and her mouth twisted. The gallery had gone quiet.
‘Yes, yes. So, you say Miss Emerson accepted you and that you fully believed, like the rest of us about to marry, that all those wonderful things would come your way?’
Low laughter issued. Mr Rudge’s gaze lifted to the people at the back.
‘I … I did, sir.’
‘Clearly, man, you’ve not been married before. Some might congratulate you for that.’ His squinty, piercing glare glowered at those whose laughter had once more bubbled forth. He returned to Edwin. ‘Sit down, Mr Cooper. And you lot,’ he said pointing to the gallery, ‘be quiet.’ At the immediate hush, he pointed at Mr Campbell. ‘Your turn.’
On his feet again, Mr Campbell wasted no time. ‘Your Honour, Miss Emerson agreed only to consider a proposal of marriage, and within two days had declined the offer, perhaps mistakenly in person.’
Evie stared down at her hands.
‘It seems that Mr Cooper here took advantage of this and has attempted extortion and intimidation thereafter,’ Mr Campbell stated.
Edwin leaped to his feet, a protest at the ready.
‘Sit down, you,’ the magistrate barked, and he waved to the bailiffs who started forward until Edwin dropped back to his chair.
‘Not only has he attempted to physically coerce Miss Emerson—’ Mr Campbell paused as a guttural sound emitted and a short scuffle ensued from somewhere behind, ‘—but he also attempted to damage the reputation of her employer, Mrs Kingsley, a well-known milliner in town. Mrs Kingsley was nearly served with an eviction notice from someone known to be an associate of Mr Cooper, and Mr Kingsley himself was assaulted by—’
‘Not relevant here, Mr Campbell, and you know it.’
‘Attesting to character, Your Honour,’ Mr Campbell said, without falter. ‘Then there were the two notices in the newspaper, which no doubt Your Honour has seen, that are malicious. Libellous.’
‘Hmm. We might speak to libel another day.’ He seared a glance at the Cooper table. ‘But I agree, the notices are not at all gentlemanly, to say the least.’ Mr Rudge addressed Edwin. ‘But you’re not here because you’re a gentleman, are you, Mr Cooper? Not against the law for you to be a sewer rat, is it?’
‘I—’
Evie turned to look. A tic had begun over Edwin’s left eye.
‘Quiet. Don’t need you to answer to that.’ Mr Rudge huffed. ‘What else have you got, Mr Campbell?’
Miss Juno handed Mr Campbell a sheaf of papers. ‘These here, Your Honour,’ he said, ‘are statements written by some previous victims of this family’s activities. Those activities include what appears to be blackmail and, shall we say, hush money or, in some cases, hush jewellery handed over by the victims in order to have Mr Cooper remove himself from their lives forever.’ He took another few sheets from Miss Juno. ‘As you’re aware, we have Miss Emerson’s report to police, and this paperwork is a report from Mr Bendigo Barrett, Private Investigator—’
‘Disgusting.’ Mrs Cooper voiced her opinion.
‘Not a word out of you,’ the magistrate snapped, and only let his glare move once the woman sank into her ruffled feathers.
Mr Campbell continued. ‘Mr Barrett who, only last night, reported seeing this individual’—a long arm and pointed finger was aimed at Edwin—‘lurking about and peeping into Miss Emerson’s house in the dead of night.’
Gasps rose from the crowd behind Evie.
‘Lies.’ Mrs Cooper again.
‘I said, not a word. Another outburst and I’ll have you thrown out on your bustle, madam.’ The magistrate, ignoring the indignant huffs of the Cooper ladies, turned to the lawyer. ‘Really, Mr Campbell, a private investigator?’
‘Whose work has been invaluable in securing such statements, and who has been assisting my clerk, Miss Juno.’
‘Mmh.’ Mr Rudge considered that. ‘All right, his reputation is supported by the worthy Miss Juno.’ He nodded, unsmiling, at Miss Juno then peered at Edwin again. ‘What say you, Mr Cooper? Were you lurking?’
‘I was not.’
‘Miss Emerson has previously made a report that speaks to that very activity, and we have another witness who says that yes, you were lurking, and peeping as well.’
There was a familiar grunt of anger from behind her, but Evie dared not turn around to see. Raff? It had to be.
‘Wasn’t me,’ Cooper said, his voice firm. ‘They’re lying. She’s mistaken. I professed love for her and she made promises.’
Evie sat forward, hands flat on the table. Miss Juno laid a hand on her arm and whispered, ‘He said, she said. Don’t bother getting upset. It’s preliminary.’
‘Your Honour,’ Mr Campbell began, ‘my client vehemently denies any breach of contract because there was no contract. A completely false declaration of an engagement from Mr Cooper by way of an advertisement in the Bendigo Advertiser is no contract. Furthermore, nor was an engagement ring ever presented.’
‘She sold it,’ Edwin cried, leaping with gusto onto another lie. His mother was on her feet beside him.
Evie’s mouth dropped open. Now accused of theft. How low will he stoop?
‘Is that right?’ Mr Rudge leaned forward, his jaw jutting. ‘Mr Cooper, do you have a bill of sale for such a ring?’
Evie turned finally to glare at Edwin, who was still on his feet, and gaping like a fish.
‘No? Interesting. If there is no ring, that would be lying to the court.’ Mr Rudge dropped his chin again, held up a finger that silenced Edwin’s sputtering. He shuffled the papers one-handed, his finger still in the air. ‘Then there was the following letter to the editor, Mr Cooper, the one where you are warning other unsuspecting gentlemen of Miss Emerson’s so-called dubious character, and that of a former suitor of hers.’
Evie was mortified. Did the magistrate need to enunciate quite so clearly?
Edwin tugged at his lapels. ‘Only right and proper.’
‘Except it isn’t, Mr Cooper. It’s more libel on your part, which might need addressing if someone wished to bring it before me,’ Mr Rudge emphasised. ‘And close your mouth. You, too, madam, I won’t hear a word from you,’ he said to Mrs Cooper. ‘Sit down, both of you. Mr Campbell, please continue.’
Mrs Cooper aimed a vicious glare at Evie, as did Jane.
‘Your Honour, this matter should never go further than here,’ Mr Campbell said. ‘Not only do we have statements from other victims of this racket, but also other newspaper reports over the years from surrounding districts’ local papers in which the Cooper family’s dark deeds shine.’
‘Newspaper reports?’
‘Yes. Due to the nature of the issue, we hadn’t time to interview as many women as we’d hoped, so with the help of a journalist, we were able to secure these.’ He waved articles cut from newsprint.
Evie let out a breath. Fitz—it would have been him.
‘Not exactly evidence, Mr Campbell.’
‘And notes recorded at a few other court sessions that certainly attest to the characters of those sitting at the plaintiff’s table today.’
Edwin shot to his feet. ‘Notes and … and newspaper articles,’ he thundered, outraged. ‘Do I need to say something about that, Your Honour?’
‘No, Mr Cooper, you need not. I can see quite plainly they are newspaper articles, thank you very much.’ Titters sounded from the crowd behind. The magistrate beckoned with his fingers. ‘If you will, Mr Campbell.’
Mr Campbell nodded at Miss Juno who delivered the clutch of papers to the bench. Mr Rudge took his time perusing them and, once again, Evie felt sure he had nodded off, his chin disappearing in folds of florid skin at his collar.
Then he popped out his chin and after shuffling to find a certain page, said, ‘I see here on your application, Mr Cooper, that you are suing Miss Emerson for two thousand pounds. Pray tell how you arrived at that paltry sum for the enormous loss of your future comforts.’
Sniggers rose again. Mrs Cooper pushed out of her chair and marched out of the courtroom. Evie was mortified all over again. Her breath had become short and she hung her head. Miss Juno tapped Evie’s arm for attention and patted under her own chin. Chin up, Miss Juno encouraged.
‘Do you believe that Miss Emerson has such funds to offer, Mr Cooper?’ the magistrate asked.
Oh my God. It’s Mama’s bequest to me and Meryl. The house and the money.
Edwin tried to maintain his composure. ‘I was led to believe that our life together would be comfortable and in a secure home—’
‘That you were not providing. Is that right?’
Evie sat up straight and turned to scowl at Edwin, her mouth firmly closed.
‘She … threw a heavy decanter at me,’ Edwin sputtered.
‘I shouldn’t wonder,’ Mr Rudge said. ‘But what’s that got to do with anything? Did it break over you, Mr Cooper?’
‘No, it—’
‘Ah, then she can’t charge you for damages. A pity.’
Mr Campbell coughed. A giggle erupted from somewhere. Edwin’s face bloomed as if with a morbid rash.
‘Though I see in Miss Emerson’s statement,’ Mr Rudge went on, ‘that someone broke into her home and did indeed smash a heavy decanter, an antique I’m told, by taking a hammer to it. Then left the guilty instrument for all to see. This vindictive, small-minded creature had also ruined a number of specially crafted ladies’ hats. Was that you, Mr Cooper, stomping all over hats like some wayward child? Don’t lie to me again.’
Edwin was trying to think of an answer.
‘No matter,’ the magistrate announced. ‘As to Mr Barrett, the, ah, private investigator, his report states that he saw you outside Miss Emerson’s place just last night, late, attempting to make an unlawful nuisance of yourself—’
‘I did no such thing. It’s outrageous to suggest that a man of such a low profession should have his word considered over mine—’
‘A peeping tom, you are, sir,’ the magistrate snapped. The court fell eerily silent. ‘And Mr Barrett hardly needed to intervene, because it says here that Miss Emerson leaped to her defence on the veranda of her home and struck you with a fire poker, not once, but twice.’ He took a deep breath and checked another paper. ‘Once on the chest, then once on the back, as you were running away, no doubt your tail between your legs.’
A guffaw erupted collectively from the back of the room. Evie was on her feet, horrified that her frustration and terror of last night, resulting in her attack on Edwin, was now the subject of amusement. Miss Juno’s fingers clutched her sleeve, encouraging her back to her seat. She collapsed into the chair, Miss Juno’s arm on hers.
‘Mr Cooper,’ Mr Rudge said, pointing a finger, ‘remove your jacket and shirt and present yourself.’
‘I will not.’
‘Very well.’ He looked around the courtroom. ‘I find that Miss Emerson has no breach of contract case to answer. I rule for the defendant, and that the plaintiff will pay court costs, plus a sum of two thousand pounds damages to the defendant. That figure must sound familiar. Am I clear, Mr Cooper?’
‘But that’s not—’
‘It’s that or a gaol term, which, to be honest, considering there are a number of statements from other ladies, I would much prefer for you.’
‘I’m not on—’
‘Not on trial here yet, Mr Cooper, and consider yourself lucky. I know there is only one other way to stop men like you if a gaol term is not imposed, so be very careful out there from now on.’
Mr Campbell’s eyes widened and he began to stand.
Edwin’s jaw shook, his chin puckered. ‘What a load of rot,’ he muttered between his teeth.
‘What did you say?’ Rudge snarled at him.
The bailiffs had straightened and Edwin dropped his glare.
‘In fact,’ Mr Rudge frowned as he considered his next words, ‘if I find you back in my courtroom for the smallest misdemeanour, I will make sure you are charged for everything on these pages.’ He slapped a hand over the paperwork in front of him.
‘And I will lock you up for the term of your natural life.’
‘You can’t do that,’ Edwin shouted.
‘Starting with contempt of court,’ the magistrate shouted in return.
The bailiff stepped up to take a stunned Edwin by the elbow. Jane Cooper thrust out of her chair and marched towards Evie. Miss Juno sprang to her feet, blocking the woman. Everyone stood, chairs scraped, voices hushed as Mr Rudge tugged his gown and straightened.
His voice rang out. ‘As for you, Miss Jane Cooper.’
Jane spun to face him, mid Valkyrie charge.
‘I believe you’ve recently made my stepson’s acquaintance, Mr Alistair Worsfold.’ He waited as Jane blinked at him, the shock evident on her face. ‘As of today, remove your poisonous self from his company or you might very well land here in my court as well.’
Jane sucked in her cheeks, her blush starting at her nose and flaring over her wide forehead. She pushed her way out of the room. Edwin had already disappeared with the bailiff.
Miss Juno pressed her lips together, eyes merry.
Mr Rudge waved a hand at the clerk.
‘All rise,’ the clerk of court intoned. ‘Session is over.’
Mr Campbell approached the bench, calling Mr Rudge back before he closed the door on his chambers. ‘Your Honour, ah …’ The public filed out, gossip a blur in the air. Evie remained where she was, still stunned.
Miss Juno began to pack up the papers and nodded surreptitiously towards the bench. ‘Wait with me so you can hear, Miss Emerson,’ she said, her voice a whisper.
Mr Rudge stood at his door waiting for the lawyer to reach him. ‘Mr Campbell, I know what you’re going to say, but I am sick to death of philanderers, wastrels and timewasters. Mr Cooper is all of that, and worse, I have no doubt. Also his family.’
‘My concern, Mr Rudge—’
‘It was hard to resist, all that theatrical thunder of mine.’ The magistrate made no effort to drop his voice. ‘Think I damn bamboozled the fellow. Don’t look so glum. Maybe some of my colleagues might have dealt with him differently, less harshly, and allowed blame to fall on the innocent woman, but allay your fears, if that’s what your frown indicates.’
‘Your Honour, I’m certainly not questioning you’—which he was—‘but Cooper might believe he has cause now to try again in the court, perhaps might think he has been dealt with unfairly.’
‘His prerogative.’ Impatient with that, Mr Rudge waved a hand. ‘My judgement was fair, justice was served and dispensed. Dear God, man, I’m nearing the end of my illustrious and practically useless career, and it’s about time justice and the law came together for once, don’t you think? Besides, who’s going to challenge me—Cooper? I don’t believe he has the funds,’ he said, ‘or the bollocks, sir, hence his deplorable, cowardly activities.’ Mr Rudge nodded to where people had been seated at the back of the courtroom. ‘I saw there was a journalist present. Today’s session will go far and wide thanks to the article he’ll write. I’ll go out on a blaze of glory, and justice will be the hero. Good day to you.’ He closed the door behind him.
Mr Campbell returned to the table, where Evie was helping Miss Juno slide the last of his documents into a large satchel. He looked at both women. ‘I’ve never, in all my days …’ he said, shaking his head.
Mr Campbell left the courtroom moments after Evie had thanked him.
‘A very good outcome, Miss Emerson,’ Miss Juno told her on the steps outside, smiling, and then she followed her boss into a cab and it drove away.
Mr and Mrs Kingsley came up the steps for her.
‘Edwin is under orders to pay within the month, or a custodial sentence will be placed on him,’ Evie said to them.
‘Rightly so, the beggar,’ Mr Kingsley said.
‘I doubt he has any money, though,’ Evie said.
‘Can’t be disappointed, dear. He’s certainly a low type of man, and this is at least his comeuppance.’ Mrs Kingsley patted Evie’s arm. ‘I do believe there’s a journalist of note here,’ she said, a look in her eye.
Evie craned her neck around the people milling outside, and saw Fitz with notepad and pencil, grinning at her. She covered her mouth before her shout of glee could escape. Then someone else caught her eye. Raff stopped alongside Fitz, frowning darkly. He tipped his hat, nodded at her. Delighted, happy as a lark, her smile wide, she started towards him, but he held up a hand to say ‘stop’.
Confused, she halted. It didn’t matter. Her poor heart raced cheerfully. He’s here. Evie tried to keep Raff in sight, but the bright light of day was eye-watering and she was momentarily blinded by the sharp sunlight. Suddenly, Mrs Kingsley yelped as she was bumped aside, and Mr Kingsley grunted an ‘Oi,’ in protest at the clumsy pedestrian.
Then Edwin had his finger thrust under Evie’s nose. ‘I’ll get you. I’ll come for you in the dead of night and you’ll be damaged goods for sure after that,’ he snarled, his voice low. ‘You’ll pay me to go away, and even then, don’t count your chances I’ll stay away.’
Mr Kingsley jostled him and yelled for help. Jane was trying desperately to drag her brother away when the court bailiffs rushed out to clear the footpath. The Coopers stormed off, pushing their way out of the crowd.
Evie’s hand was on her throat, the hard thump of her pulse giddying. She was shaking. Had anyone else heard? The Kingsleys, worried and angry, herded her into their cab.
Raff was nowhere in sight.