‘Bunk.’
Harold now grinned up at the Captain and repeated, ‘Bunk.’ And we all laughed.
‘Who said you were coming to sleep on this boat?’ Tommy was looking sternly down on Harold now. And Harold turned his gaze on me enquiringly; then looking back at Tommy he stammered, ‘We … ll, I … I th … thought … well the Captain said—’ And the Captain, shrugging his shoulders expressively and holding out his hands, said, ‘Oh, it’s got nothing to do with me, has it, sir?’
‘No, nothing whatever, Captain.’
And now I put in my say: ‘It all depends on how you behave yourself.’ And we stood looking down on the crestfallen face, and Tommy ruffled his head, saying, ‘Of course you’re coming. We couldn’t manage to get out of the canal without his help, could we, Captain?’
‘No, no, sir. He guided us pretty well the other day.’
‘Of course with the help of his uncles.’
Now Tommy and the Captain exchanged laughter and a relieved Harold became himself and cried, ‘There’s still some more.’
And there was some more.
When later the Captain served us tea in the saloon with thin bread and butter and home-made scones, I looked at him and said in amazement, ‘Don’t tell me you cooked these?’ I pointed to the scones. And for answer he said, ‘I’ve had to learn a lot of things during the last eight to ten years, madam; and I’ve never believed in living rough.’
‘They’re lovely. I … I think this is the biggest surprise of all, this beautiful tea.’
‘Tut tut!’ The Captain tossed his head from side to side but was definitely very pleased at the compliment; then he said, ‘You like her?’
‘How could I help it? But I must tell you, I’m no sailor, I’m terrified of the water … I mean, being so close to it.’
‘You needn’t be afraid of sailing in her, madam; I’ve guided her through some pretty stormy waters. At least, I say I did it, but no, she did it. She’s got a mind of her own, like all women.’
I smiled at Captain Lee. I liked him.
‘Would you like a run into the river?’
‘I thought we were on the river.’
‘This is the canal, madam. It’s a fine day; she’ll be as steady as a rock. What about it?’
‘Well, I suppose’—I looked at Tommy—‘it’s got to happen some time.’
Tommy took my hand and squeezed it, and when Harold jumped up, crying, ‘Good-oh! I can take her again?’ the Captain said, ‘Yes, yes, of course, she’ll need your help. I wouldn’t dream of attempting to take her out myself.’
Harold looked at me slant-wise: he knew he was being kidded and he couldn’t find words to answer the Captain in this vein, but he did it in his own way, and what he said was, ‘Baloney!’
And so we went up the river. And I sat in the wheelhouse and looked at the bows cleaving through the water, and of a sudden I felt happy and knew that I would come to love this boat and that it would show me yet another way of life. And Tommy sat quietly looking at me while Harold stood within the arms of the Captain and presumably took the wheel. And when at one point Tommy leant towards me and whispered into my ear, ‘I love you,’ I felt that life ahead was going to be good.
I’d forgotten about the trial.
Six
I had been sick in the night; in fact, I had been sick for the past two weeks, the dragged-out time of the court proceedings of the Indian Drug Case, so termed by the newspapers because the Mohican had, of course, been the main witness in the trial which covered a sea captain, a yacht owner, a well-known businessman, besides two pushers and the three men accused of attempted murder, and a woman who ran a boutique. The sentences on the captain and the yacht owner had been similar, five years each, but the businessman, to most people’s surprise, had been given eight years, for this particular man had used his connections abroad to bring the stuff into the country using various young people who found themselves stranded abroad or down on their luck. The other men were given two and four years respectively. But when the judge had come to sentencing the three men who were to stand trial for attempted murder his remarks were that he would reserve judgement on these men and their woman associate after the charge had been heard. And then he had praised the detective sergeant who had for two years risked his life in his endeavour to bring the convicted men to justice. And it had been a dangerous task, as had been demonstrated in the end when he had been attacked and left for dead by a drug addict. The sergeant could quite easily have taken to drugs himself; in fact, in order to suggest that he was one of them, he had deliberately punctured his arm with a needle. The whole community and all decent people, the judge went on to say, owed this man a debt of gratitude.
I had been in such a state before I left the house this morning that Tommy had insisted I swallow a glass of milk in which he had put a stiff measure of brandy. But this hadn’t prevented my shaking inside and I was shaking now as I stood in the witness box, after being brought into court by the usher as the first witness in the case. I had taken in the fact of the judge being arrayed in a long red robe with a white stole, and wearing a grey wig. He was sitting high up as if on a throne. Below him was a large table with a clerk sitting at the head of it and beyond this rows of seats occupied by the solicitors and counsel; those, as I had previously been told, for the prosecution on the right and those for the defence on the left. And above these was the dock. My mind seemed to blur to my present surroundings for I was remembering when I was last in court, before the judge had passed sentence on Howard Stickle and he had screamed at me that he would get me in the end. And he nearly had with his power of thought.
I was staring towards the dock; I could see his face. Yet there were four faces there, all blurred, but as the mist cleared from my eyes I saw the woman called Liz, the man called Bunty and then the one called Trucker, and then that dreadful one, Danny, and I started to whine to myself: I shouldn’t be asked to do this, I’m not well enough. I’ll pass out again.
I was once more walking along the top of the cliff with two of these men, one on each side of me holding my arms; I seemed to be lifting my feet up high …
The prosecuting counsel was now asking me to tell the court, in my own words, what had happened.
Haltingly I brought out the words that gave the picture of my meeting the Mohican … I actually said the name before changing it quickly to Mr John Drake, as I knew him to be named then. The judge looked at me kindly. I think there was a smile on his lips as he said, ‘Is that the name you gave to Detective Sergeant Bainbridge?’ And I said, ‘Yes, my Lord.’
When he turned his eyes from mine I saw him looking slightly to the left, and there for the first time I saw the Mohican himself sitting. He was looking at me and he smiled.
‘Why were you meeting the … Mohican or, as you knew him then, Mr John Drake?’ the prosecuting counsel now asked.
I then hesitantly told him that I’d had some articles stolen from the house and Mr Drake had discovered some of them in an antique shop, and he had told me he would show me where the shop was, but he didn’t want me to meet up with him.
‘What happened when you did meet up with him?’
Haltingly again I described the fight and the car drawing up and the men getting out.
‘Mrs Leviston,’ said counsel for the prosecution, ‘can you identify the men who got out of the car?’
I looked towards the dock and met the three pairs of eyes riveted on me. Again they merged into Stickle’s face. I nodded before I said, ‘Yes. They are the men in the dock.’
At this point the counsel for the defence stood up saying that his clients had already admitted all that had been said; the main issue now was their presence on the cliff top at Fairlight on the night in question.
The prosecuting counsel said calmly, ‘We are coming to that.’ Then turning to me he said, ‘Describe what followed, Mrs Leviston, after you had been thrown into the car.’
I told him.
‘Can you rememb
er anything that was said before?’
My mind became blank for a moment; then I seemed to be back on that couch and I heard the woman speaking and I told them what little I remembered and added how she had said that she didn’t want anything to be done to me in her house. I recalled she mentioned the name of Benson and said she didn’t want that to happen again in her house.
At the mention of this name, the judge now said, ‘You are sure, Mrs Leviston, that you heard the woman mention that name with regard to something in the past?’
When I answered, ‘Yes, my Lord,’ the judge wrote something down. Then once again he returned his attention to me, saying, ‘Kindly proceed, Mrs Leviston.’
I now said, ‘Well, they talked a lot about how’—I lowered my head as I muttered—‘to get rid of me. And it was the man called Danny who suggested the cliffs.’
‘What happened then?’
‘I … I cannot remember very much except that after they stuck a needle in my arm I … I sort of became resigned: I knew what was happening yet could do nothing about it. The last thing I remember is being pushed in the back and the air rushing into me. That is all.’ …
‘And that is all that is required of you, Mrs Leviston.’ At this stage counsel for the defence indicated that he did not wish to cross-examine me.
As I was helped down from the box there swept over me a wave of relief, yet at the same time I thought I was going to faint. I sat on the front seat, and someone took my hand and patted it.
Someone else called a name out and a man stepped into the witness box. I didn’t know him. He took the oath, then the prosecuting counsel said, ‘Are you Mr Peter Dyke?’ and the man answered, ‘Yes.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘In Fairlight, outside Hastings.’
‘Where were you on the night of August 10th, 1984?’
‘I was taking my dog for a walk, as I do every night.’
‘Can you describe to us anyone in this court you saw whilst out walking on that particular night?’
All eyes were on the man now as he turned to the dock, and he pointed, saying, ‘Two of the men there, the big one and the thin one.’
‘What in particular did you notice about these men?’
‘I noticed that one looked like a boxer and the other didn’t seem to be half the size, in fact not much taller than the young woman that was walking between them.’
‘What were they doing?’
‘They were each holding one of the young woman’s arms.’
‘What else did you notice about the men?’
‘They were laughing; but the young lady looked solemn. I thought she must have just told them a joke. I remember the small man took her hand and wagged it.’
‘How was it that you recall such a small action as that? They were, in fact, only passers-by.’
‘Because some time later I saw the same two men return to a car. I had passed the car earlier and the third man’—he pointed now—‘was standing outside leaning on the bonnet. But the other two men hadn’t the young lady with them now, and I was a little puzzled at this until I thought they might have been seeing her home; there’s a path leading to cottages and houses further along the cliff top.’
‘What time of the evening was this?’
‘I cannot say exactly but it was almost dark.’
There followed some more questions, but I found I wasn’t listening. My sickness had increased, I longed for fresh air. Someone said, take a deep breath. I did just that.
There seemed to be a lapse of time; then my head cleared and I listened to a man’s cultured tones. It was the defence counsel speaking and he was saying, ‘Neither William Smith, nor Thomas Robberton, nor yet Daniel Foxbrown, deny they bundled Mrs Maisie Leviston into their car, and they admit they took her to Fairlight, which they reached about one o’clock, and that there they pushed her out of the car and this is the last they saw of the lady in question. However, they admit that she might have been in a dazed condition as they had given her a sedative prior to bringing her from London.
‘Therefore I suggest she wandered and later fell over the cliff. In the meantime, the accused men went to Hastings, a few miles away, parked the car, had several plates of cockles and wilks … ’
‘I think they are called whelks.’
‘Yes, my Lord, yes, whelks.’
There was a titter of laughter in the court; I looked towards the public seats and saw Tommy and he gave me a smile, which did nothing to help me.
The defence counsel was now repeating, ‘Whelks, they had several plates of these, and later they visited two or three public houses.’
‘How many public houses?’
‘Two or three, my Lord.’
‘They either visited two or they visited three.’
‘Yes, my Lord, but I’m only repeating what they remembered, because to relate my clients’ words, they became rather full.’
There was another titter.
Now the judge’s voice rang out clear across the court; ‘I can see nothing to cause amusement in this case. Proceed.’
He proceeded, saying flatly now, ‘My clients can prove that they had returned to London and had had a meal in the flat above their friend’s shop well before dusk.’
‘You are referring to the boutique?’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
‘You have a witness?’
‘Yes, my Lord, the accused, Elizabeth Myter.’
‘Call Elizabeth Myter.’
It seemed from where I was sitting that the woman had to be lifted into the witness box. I couldn’t hear her swearing the oath nor could I hear her giving her name, but the judge said, ‘Ask your witness to speak up.’
When I looked up again the woman was muttering now. Half her words were unintelligible. But the gist of them was she had lived with the man known as Bunty for the past three years and her premises had been used to store drugs which he distributed, and yes, they had taken the woman with the intention of doing her in.
This last statement caused a commotion in the dock: it was the big fellow yelling, ‘She’s a liar, a bloody liar. Just wait.’
Two policemen were restraining the man, a voice was shouting, ‘Order in court!’
The woman was now almost gibbering as she said that she knew about the drug racket all right, but that she would never have anything to do with polishing anyone off. And the man Bunty knew that. She was then asked if any one of them had threatened her. And after hesitation, she replied, no, not really, but that she was frightened of one of them. And to the surprise of the court she named the man called Danny.
Why was she frightened of him? she was asked.
Because he was weird, wrong in the head, twisted.
The man Danny made no response to this, he just stared at her …
There followed more procedure. The prosecuting counsel spoke to the jury. The defence counsel spoke to the jury. Then the judge was summing up and when he had finished the jury retired to consider their verdict and the judge also left the court.
There was a stir in the court, then a movement of people. I had moved too. I was now standing in an outer hall. Tommy was by my side, and in front of me stood the Mohican. His look was kindly as he said, ‘It’ll soon be over.’
‘What do you think they’ll get?’ Tommy was addressing him now.
‘Hard to say. The old boy’s against them, which is good, but it’s amazing, you never know with juries, there’s always one or two who like to sit back and show they’re different.’
‘It must have been pretty rough for you all this.’
The Mohican now looked at Tommy and smiled saying, ‘No; quite a holiday compared to the other business.’
‘Yes, I suppose so, but it’s certainly put a spoke in the drug racket.’
The Mohican made a strange sound in his throat as he said, ‘You said the word, a spoke, and that’s all it is. They’ll still get in somehow.’
‘After all you’ve done?’
�
�Oh, yes. What I’ve done had been done before. It’ll be quiet for a time, but then they’ll find other ways or means. Once you’re hooked, it’s either drugs or death. They won’t recognise that the death comes through the drugs, they just think they’ll die if they don’t get them; and they’ll get them.’
I looked at the Mohican. I was searching for a word to fit his mood, and the only one my mind presented me with was, disconsolate.
His voice was kindly now when, looking at me, he said, ‘You want to take a long holiday when this is over.’
I nodded at him, saying, ‘Yes, I mean to.’
‘She’s going on a honeymoon.’ Tommy had bent towards him.
‘Oh. Congratulations.’
‘I’ve acquired a boat; we’re going to do the rivers, if not the Channel.’
‘Very nice. I hope you’ll be very happy.’ He was looking at me now, and I said simply, ‘Thank you.’
Why did I feel sorry for him? Why did I wish … ? What did I wish?
I looked to the side now and there, standing at the end of the room, were three of Janet’s family, Max, Greg and Rodney. They were looking towards us but they made no move to come forward, and the Mohican, turning his glance towards them before looking at me again, said, ‘They would like to have a word with you but I’m in the way.’ Then on a note of ironic humour he added, ‘We don’t want a punch-up in court, do we?’ And with this he nodded at me and turned away, and Tommy, bending down, asked quietly, ‘What did he mean by that?’ And I replied as quietly, ‘Well, you know he’s dropped Hilda and the boys are not very pleased. He … he was made very welcome in the house.’
‘Oh, yes. Yes, I see the point. Let’s go and have a word with them.’
They all said in their different ways, ‘Hello, Mrs Leviston. How are you?’ And I said frankly, ‘Feeling dreadful.’
It was Greg who stated bluntly, ‘I hope that old boy gives the buggers what they deserve, life, and not just for ten years or so. If I could get me hands on one of them there wouldn’t be any need to sentence him.’
Harold Page 21