The courtroom was packed. Grey stone and ancient wood for décor only added to the solemnity of the proceedings. Hussain’s stress levels were at breaking point. Adey, sitting behind him, gently patted his back in an effort to keep him calm.
He turned around. ‘Connor?’
She shook her head.
‘All rise!’ Three elderly gentlemen in red robes came into court and took their seats, Mr Justice Billings in the middle, presiding.
Anderson was brought in and seated in the dock on a raised platform to the right of the judges. Able to get a glimpse at the public gallery he saw his brother Stephen, and to his surprise, even his parents. Mr and Mrs Granger sat stony-faced in front of Orlando West and Mia. Were they really lovers?
DI Taylor, sitting with two CPS lawyers behind Hannah Stapleton, made no eye contact with Anderson, or the defence team.
Hussain realised that such was the arrangement in appellate courts; he would have no opportunity to consult with Anderson during the proceedings. Anxiety levels rose again.
‘My Lords,’ he announced. ‘I represent the appellant, Miss Stapleton, Queen’s Counsel, is for the—’
‘Don’t you mean you represent the applicant?’ Mr Justice Billings cut in. ‘He only becomes an appellant if this Court grants leaves to appeal. At the moment we haven’t seen anything vaguely resembling arguable grounds.’
‘Yes, My Lord.’ Hussain’s first mistake. ‘Might I make a preliminary application?’
‘Which is?’
‘That the applicant sits not in the dock, but next to me, here in counsels’ row?’
‘That’s highly unusual,’ the judge replied with disdain.
‘So is the applicant, My Lord. He was – is – a very experienced barrister, and I require his assistance to ensure that justice is done, which is, after all, the only ambition of this Court.’
‘But he’s been struck off, hasn’t he?’
‘Only because of this conviction, which we seek to quash, My Lord. This Court is the bowel of the criminal justice system in this great country; I implore it not to stand too much on ceremony.’
Hussain’s pomposity raised one or two half-smiles. The judges consulted each other, exchanging whispered opinions.
Eventually: ‘Very well. Dock officer, please accompany the applicant. We will rise while that is done.’
Hussain was amazed, and mightily relieved.
Once Anderson was in position, and had spread his dog-eared bundle of papers out in front of him, Sam Connor made an appearance in counsels’ row. He whispered: ‘That’s the Court of Appeal for you – they can do what they bloody well like!’
Anderson twisted around to see his old rival.
‘I’m really sorry, John,’ said Connor.
Nothing else needed saying, the past was the past. A hearty handshake and a warm smile was enough for Anderson. He had more important things on his mind. And besides, Connor was here to make amends.
‘I’ve remembered where I saw Heena Butt before,’ Connor whispered to the defence team.
Everyone was eager to hear this revelation.
‘On the morning of the crash I was in chambers early, doing those bloody schedules.’
Anderson remembered.
‘I saw her in chambers. Coming out of West’s room. He was showing her out.’
No, please no, thought Anderson.
‘I knew it!’ exclaimed Hussain.
‘Shush,’ said Adey, holding a finger to her lips. They were attracting the attention of the public gallery.
‘That’s it now,’ said Hussain. ‘West set you up. I’m going for him.’
‘Tread carefully,’ warned Anderson. ‘We don’t know the details yet.’
‘There’s one more thing,’ said Connor.
‘What, there’s more?’ asked Hussain.
Connor was nervous. Choosing his words carefully: ‘I can’t give evidence.’
‘What are you talking about? You are the main thrust of this appeal!’ Hussain’s outrage was again noticed by others in the courtroom.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve thought of nothing else. It would ruin my career. I’d never live it down.’
‘You gave us your word,’ said Hussain.
‘I want to give evidence, but…’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not like Anderson. I’m weak.’
‘You’re a coward,’ said Adey.
‘Leave it,’ said Anderson. He’d heard enough. Connor simply didn’t have it in him.
‘I’m sorry,’ was all Connor could say.
The others watched their star witness slope off to the public gallery.
‘Excuse me?’
‘What is it?’ snapped Hussain, before realising it was Mrs Granger who had spoken. She was standing at the side of counsels’ row with her husband.
She looked even more gaunt than when Hussain had last seen her. Haunted.
‘I want to give evidence.’
‘You? Why?’
Hands twitching: ‘I didn’t tell the truth at trial.’
Stunned, no one knew what to say.
‘I still think you’re guilty,’ she said, looking directly at Anderson. ‘But I never saw your face before the crash.’ Then, by way of explanation: ‘When I made me statement I were proper angry.’ She shook her head. ‘So I lied. Then I just stuck with it. It were wrong o’ me.’ She studied her hands, fidgeting with the buttons on her jacket. Sandra Granger’s anguish was plain to see.
‘Mrs Granger,’ said Hussain. ‘You do realise that you would be admitting perjury? You could go to prison.’
She took her husband’s hand. It had obviously been a matter of considerable debate in the Granger household. ‘I know.’
‘Right, well, thank you,’ said Hussain, gathering his thoughts. ‘If you’d like to wait outside, Miss Tuur, my colleague, will come and take a statement before we call you.’
The Grangers nodded and left the courtroom.
‘Quite a turn up,’ said Hussain. ‘I’ll ask for time whilst the statement is taken.’
‘A grieving mother going to jail?’ said Anderson. ‘We can’t call her.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Adey. ‘This could get us a retrial.’
‘I don’t want a retrial. I want to finish it today. I came here to find out what happened, not to sacrifice Sandra Granger to save my own skin. She’s got more guts and integrity than Sam Connor ever had.’
Adey just didn’t get it. Hussain did. ‘OK, my friend, I will go and tell her.’
He joined her on one of the old wooden pews, slotted between stone pillars along the corridor. ‘We’re not going to call you, Mrs Granger, so you have nothing to worry about.’
‘Why not? I don’t understand?’
‘Mr Anderson feels you’ve suffered enough. We are not here to punish you, but to find the truth about what caused this tragedy – for all of us.’
Sandra Granger stared at Hussain, unable to comprehend Anderson’s generosity.
She was mystified.