‘Mrs Pettifer,’ Jess began, ‘My name is Jess Farrar. I have a few questions for you on behalf of Henry. I won’t keep you very long.’
‘I’m not in a rush, dear,’ Mrs Pettifer replied. ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go, except home.’
The members of the jury were smiling; Jess returned the smile.
‘Thank you. You told the jury that you would see Susan when she came downstairs to hang washing up in the garden, and when she’d been to the shops and brought you something: is that right?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘So, you would see her, what, two or three times a week to talk to?’
‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘On the other hand, you never really had the chance to talk to Henry, because he was always at work?’
‘Yes, he was.’
‘I’m not going to ask you what Susan told you; but would it be fair to say that anything you heard about their marriage came from her, rather than Henry?’
Mrs Pettifer hesitated.
‘I never asked her about her marriage, Miss, it wouldn’t have been polite, would it? I’m not one to pry into other people’s affairs.’
‘No, no, of course. But you know how it is when women get together over a cup of coffee. I’m sure you shared a few confidences now and then.’
She smiled. ‘A truer word was never spoken, dear. We do like to gossip, don’t we?’
‘Yes, of course we do. And I’m not asking what you may have heard about their marriage. My suggestion was that whatever you heard, you heard from Susan, not from Henry?’
‘Well, yes… that’s true.’
‘Thank you. Mrs Pettifer, you saw Susan go out in the evenings twice or three times a week, is that right?’
‘More or less, yes.’
‘Leaving aside Friday nights, when she and Henry might go out together, she would go out on her own twice or three times a week?’
‘Yes.’
‘Leaving somewhere around 8 o’clock, and getting back as late as 1 or 2 in the morning?’
‘Yes, Miss, that’s true.’
‘And when she went out, would it be fair to say – tell me if you don’t understand this phrase – she would be “dressed up to the nines”?’
Mrs Pettifer frowned. ‘I understand what you’re saying, but…’
‘She would wear high heels, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘And a cocktail dress?’
‘Yes.’
‘Her hair nicely done, nice makeup?’
‘Yes, quite true.’
‘Mrs Pettifer, I don’t mean to be rude, but people don’t usually dress up like that to go out for the evening in Islington, do they?’
Mrs Pettifer thought for a moment or two.
‘We did have a French restaurant once, and people dressed up a bit for that, but it only lasted a year or so. I suppose there wasn’t the call for it.’
‘They wouldn’t dress up like that to go to the pubs near you, would they?’
She laughed. ‘Oh, no, dear; not unless you wanted people staring at you.’
‘It was more the kind of thing you would wear for a night out in the West End, wasn’t it?’
‘I wouldn’t know, dear. I don’t get up to the West End much these days.’
The jury laughed, and Jess joined in.
‘Fair enough. But would you agree with this? She was dressing up to look sexy, wasn’t she?’
Mrs Pettifer looked uncomfortable.
‘Well, she was a good-looking woman. But why do you have to call it sexy just because she dressed up nicely to go out?’
Jess smiled. ‘I won’t press it, Mrs Pettifer. But the pattern was that two or three times a week, Henry would come home from work, and a short time later, Susan would go out, dressed up to the nines, and she wouldn’t come back until the early hours. Is that what you saw?’
‘I suppose so, dear, yes.’
‘Mrs Pettifer, was Susan sometimes drunk when she came home in the early hours?’
The witness seemed taken aback.
‘How would I know that?’
‘You said that Henry would sometimes accuse her of being drunk. I wondered whether you ever saw or heard anything yourself to suggest that she had been drinking?’
‘What kinds of things? I don’t understand.’
‘Well, you heard her footsteps on the stairs. Did she ever seem unsteady? Did she have trouble getting up the stairs? Could you hear her saying anything? Did anything ever happen that made you look out of your window?’
‘No. Not that I remember.’
‘When you heard her voice, was her speech ever slurred?’
‘I couldn’t hear her clearly enough to tell. I could hear him, but not her so much.’
‘When you would see her for coffee, did she ever seem hung-over, a bit under the weather?’
‘She did look a bit pale some mornings, but I assumed that was just because she was tired.’
‘Did she ever tell you that she was seeing another man?’
Mrs Pettifer gasped.
‘What? What do you mean “seeing”? What are you suggesting?’
‘I’m asking whether she ever told you she was going out with a man other than Henry?’
‘No, Miss, she certainly did not.’
Jess paused.
‘I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Mrs Pettifer, but do you know what cannabis is?’
She chuckled.
‘Well, of course I know what it is, dear. It’s what those hippies and such smoke instead of proper cigarettes, isn’t it?’
Jess smiled. ‘Yes, exactly. Mrs Pettifer, do you know what cannabis smells like when it is smoked?’
‘No. Well, at least I don’t think so. I’ve never known anyone who smoked it, as far as I know.’
‘No, I’m sure you haven’t, but did you ever smell anything from upstairs that seemed strange, something very pungent that didn’t smell like food?’
The witness pointed a finger.
‘Now you mention it, Miss, there was something. I thought it was just some different kind of coffee, you know, Turkish coffee or the like – not that I’ve ever had Turkish coffee, so I don’t know really, but they say it’s quite strong, don’t they? I did smell something during the week sometimes, but I couldn’t tell you what it was. She never smoked it in front of me. She smoked regular cigarettes sometimes, but not that cannabis, or whatever you call it.’
‘Did she talk about the children very much?’
‘No, not very much, come to think of it,’ Mrs Pettifer replied. ‘If I asked her about them, she would tell me how they were doing, but I don’t remember her just talking about them for the sake of it, or showing me photographs, or anything like that.’
‘And lastly, Mrs Pettifer, I want to ask you about the evidence you gave when you said you heard Henry hit Susan. You said this happened when they were arguing, after she got home late from her evenings out: is that right?’
‘Yes. Not every time, but…’
‘What you heard was the sound of a slap, is that right?’
‘More than one.’
‘All right, two or three slaps, or however many; but you were describing something you heard going on upstairs?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just so that the jury are clear about this, you never saw Henry hit Susan, did you?’
‘I never said I did.’
‘No, that’s quite right, you didn’t. It’s just so we are clear. It’s what you heard, not what you saw?’
‘Yes.’
‘You think you heard one person slapping another?’
‘Think I heard…?’
‘You couldn’t see what was going on. You heard what you thought were a number of slaps.’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s assume for a moment that you are right about that –’
‘I know what I heard, Miss –’
‘You couldn’t see upstairs, could you? But let’s assume for a moment that you are right, that you did hear some slaps. You can’t say who slapped whom, can you?’
‘What…?’
‘You hear a couple arguing, they’re both angry, shouting at each other, and then you hear what you think are slaps. Assuming they were slaps, what I’m suggesting is that you can’t say whether he slapped her, or she slapped him, can you? You weren’t there.’
There was a silence.
‘I heard her cry out,’ she replied, after some seconds.
‘Cry out, or shout?’
‘Well…’
‘Mrs Pettifer, did you ever see any marks or bruises on Susan?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Pettifer. I have nothing further, my Lord.’
Andrew stood.
‘My Lord, I have one or two short, formal matters, and I will then be in a position to close my case. After that, may I suggest that we adjourn and begin the defence case after lunch?’
‘Yes, very well,’ the judge replied. ‘Isn’t there going to be an application of some kind, a matter of law?’
‘My Lord?’
‘I thought someone said there was going to be a matter of law for me to decide, a matter of whether certain evidence is admissible?’
Ben got to his feet.
‘My Lord, there will be a question of law, but not today. It’s a matter I will raise after Mr Lang has given evidence.’
The judge nodded.
‘Yes, very well. Then we will rise for lunch before you call Mr Lang.’
‘I’m much obliged, my Lord,’ Ben replied.
Andrew approached Ben to whisper.
‘How did he know about the point of law? Did you tell him?’
Ben shook his head. ‘I have no idea. He didn’t hear it from me. Perhaps he’s imagining things.’
Andrew grimaced. ‘Great. That’s all we need.’