Francesca was staring at the witness statement given by Sean Martin to Murdoch moments before. Dan had read it through a couple of times. It was just a series of denials and bland comments about how outraged he felt.
He threw it on to the table in front of him. ‘Is he definitely giving evidence?’
She looked up. ‘He wants to.’ She sat back and folded her arms. ‘Tell me, Dan. Do you believe what your client said?’
‘I do.’
‘I hope this goes the right way then.’
Dan didn’t reply.
‘You’re quiet today. I expected you to be a bit more gung-ho.’
Before Dan could say anything, the door leading to the judge’s corridor opened and he entered, shuffling towards his chair. Everyone rose to their feet.
Dan looked to the back of the court as the usher went to collect the jurors. All of Lizzie’s friends and relatives were in the courtroom, some of their anger dissipated, but there was also a new set of spectators. From the anguished looks on their faces, Dan guessed they were relatives of Sean’s victims, desperate to hear their own truths. Murdoch was in the centre of all of them, staring ahead.
Peter was in the glass box, looking down, waiting for the hearing to start.
Dan turned away. He had no idea how the case was going to turn out, but he knew it wouldn’t have a happy ending. Peter had admitted to killing Lizzie and the real story behind it had come out, so his conscience should be clear, except Bill’s life was part of the picture now. He couldn’t do both what Peter wanted and what Sean demanded. One of them had to be sacrificed.
There was a delay as the jurors entered, solemn and quiet. Once in place, the judge looked to Francesca and said, ‘We heard the evidence yesterday of the defendant. Do you intend to call any evidence in rebuttal?’
‘I do, My Lord. I call Sean Martin.’
There were murmurs around the courtroom.
As Sean strode towards the witness box, confidence oozing from him, the reporters making frantic notes, Dan’s phone buzzed.
He sneaked it out of his pocket and put it on to the table in front of him. The judge was distracted by Sean’s arrival, so he was able to check the message. It was from Jayne.
His tickles of nerves turned into tremors of excitement. A development. He glanced towards the judge, to make sure he wasn’t watching him, and texted back,
The usher passed Sean Martin the New Testament so that he could swear the oath, but the judge interrupted him.
‘Mr Martin, before we start, I must make it clear that you are under no obligation to be here. The defendant in this case, Peter Box, has made various allegations against you. I will be blunt. You are accused of engaging in very serious criminal behaviour. By coming to court today, you open the possibility of criminal proceedings being brought against you. You are not obliged to come here and potentially incriminate yourself. If you leave, it is no admission of guilt. What would you like to do?’
Sean looked around the courtroom, half a smile on his lips, catching the eye of every spectator, resting on Dan as he replied, ‘My life has been ruined by one false allegation already, even though I stand exonerated of that awful crime. I feel honour-bound to speak. I owe it to all the people who campaigned on my behalf to further clear my name.’
Dan looked away, trying to keep his anger in check. He had to remain calm.
Sean swore the oath.
Francesca cleared her throat before she asked her first question, and she started with the most obvious one, the question that cleared the air. ‘Sean Martin, have you ever deliberately taken another person’s life?’
He looked towards the judge and spoke in a clear voice. ‘I have not.’
‘Do you know the defendant, Peter Box?’
Sean looked towards the dock. ‘Yes, I knew him, but it was years ago. I can’t remember the last time I spoke to him. He used to go out with my wife’s sister. She was my girlfriend then, but we’re married now.’
‘Trudy?’
‘Yes, that’s right. She stood by me when I was in prison. Rosie’s mother didn’t. Rosie was the poor girl who was murdered, which caused me to go to prison wrongfully. But I don’t blame Karen; she was fed the wrong information. Trudy knew what I was really like.’
‘Did you spend much time with Peter?’
‘Some, but he wasn’t my friend. Trudy and her sister were close, so it was natural that we’d sometimes hang out as a foursome. Once they split up, I didn’t see him again.’
‘What did you think of Peter?’
Dan rose to his feet. ‘My Lord, is the witness’s opinion of the defendant relevant?’
The judge glared at him. ‘Mr Grant, given the severity of the allegations made by your client, the witness’s opinion of your client’s character might have some weight.’ He nodded at Sean as Dan sat down. ‘Carry on, Mr Martin.’
Sean eyed Dan with curiosity before he said, ‘I thought of him like a younger brother, because we were nearly that, brothers-in-law, but he was a strange one. One of those introverts who you feel you never really get to know. I found him a bit creepy, to be honest, but harmless enough. At least I thought he was.’
‘But reliable, or truthful?’
‘Not particularly.’
Francesca feigned surprise. ‘Can you give the court some examples?’
‘Just boasting, trying to make himself sound important. It was only natural, I suppose, because I was older, more experienced, so had more to tell. I think Peter felt he had to try to keep up. For instance, if I mentioned a festival I’d been to, he’d start talking about some great party he’d gone to and it was almost as if his had to be better, or bigger.’
‘Going back to New Year’s Eve, the night that culminated in the murder of Elizabeth Barnsley. Where did you spend it?’
Sean rolled his eyes making a show of it. ‘It’s a few months ago now.’
‘Do you think you might have been out on your boat?’
‘Well, it’s more of a joint boat really, not mine alone.’
Dan’s eyes narrowed. Sean’s first mistake. He was avoiding the question.
Francesca had noticed it too, because she straightened and gripped the lapel of her gown. ‘Whoever owns it, were you out on the boat that you sometimes use together?’
Sean shot a glance towards Dan. ‘No, not that night. Like I told Mr Grant, when he asked me, I spent it indoors, watching television. Trudy and I shared a bottle of wine. I wouldn’t have gone out that night. Too many drunks by the canals,’ and he pointed towards Peter. ‘And other undesirables.’
The judge held up his hand as there was a noise of someone moving along the public gallery. Dan looked back and saw it was Murdoch. She was holding up her phone and heading for the doors. She caught Dan watching as she went outside, nodding at him as the door closed.
Francesca continued, ‘Referring to the other allegations made against you, did you know Claire Watkins?’
He straightened and gave an earnest nod in reply. ‘Yes, I did. She lived on the next street to where Trudy lived. Peter liked her, if I remember, but she ran away or went missing. A tragedy, but young people can do strange things.’
‘When you say Peter liked her, what do you mean?’
‘Fancied her. Desired her.’
‘But he was going out with your partner’s sister?’
‘He wasn’t very good at concealing it. He’d get all flustered when I spoke to her, blushing and stuff.’
‘Did you have any kind of a sexual relationship with Claire?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Did you play any role in her disappearance?’
‘Not at all.’
‘And did you have any part in the murder of Rosie Smith?’
He sneered at that and shook his head. ‘The last trial I had resolved that issue. I was cleared. Not guilty.’
‘How do you feel about the allegations against you?’
‘Angry. Bewildered. Confused. Outraged. I’ve rebuilt my life, with Trudy, and I don’t know why Peter’s saying this. Some bitterness at how my life has turned out perhaps, or disappointment with his own? All I know is that I didn’t do what I’m alleged to have done, and there won’t be any proof of it. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it, in a courtroom? To find proof?’
He looked at Dan when he said it, and Dan recognised the taunt in his eyes.
Francesca bowed to the judge and sat down.
The judge raised an eyebrow. ‘Mr Grant. Do you have any questions?’
Dan stood. He was nervous, confused, not knowing where to go with his questions. His laptop was open. He glanced down, to look for any kind of message from Jayne, but there was nothing.
He thought of Bill and whether what he was about to do would end up with his murder. He couldn’t cope with that on his conscience.
As he looked at Sean Martin, with his arrogance and his cold sneer, the way he had acted about Bill outside, Dan decided what to do.
Sean might have underestimated him. If he had inherited one thing from his father, it was the fondness for a fight. The more he was told he couldn’t have it, the more he needed it.
He was going after Sean Martin, whatever the cost.