by Anne Perry
Daniel looked at the jury and saw several of them in deep anger and distress at the situation.
Grisewood must have seen it too, because he rose to his feet. ‘My lord, I know Mr Pitt is young and inexperienced, but this is all an appeal to the emotions. It has nothing to do with the facts that Miss Cumberford coldly and deliberately murdered Mrs Winifred Graves. That is what we are here to try.’
‘Indeed, Mr Pitt,’ the judge said gravely. ‘Mr Grisewood is correct. You will please address the facts relevant to that. You have only succeeded so far in making Mr Grisewood’s case for him. Miss Cumberford had excellent motive for wishing Mrs Graves to disappear, as she almost succeeded in accomplishing that.’
‘Yes, my lord. I apologise to the court. I only wanted to establish Miss Cumberford’s character, and the honesty, or otherwise, of Mr Graves, the chief witness against her.’
‘Your point is taken, Mr Pitt. Have you any other questions for Mr Graves?’
‘Yes, my lord, a few.’
‘Then proceed, but see that they are relevant.’
‘Yes, my lord. Mr Graves, you have suggested that your butler, Mr Falthorne, is telling lies, rather than the truth, when he says you beat both your wife and your daughter regularly, causing them serious injury. Is he, in fact, lying? If we were to ask the lady’s maid the same questions, would she have different answers? And apparently Mrs Winifred Graves had several scars dating from the time she was married to you.’
‘She was a clumsy woman!’ Graves said darkly.
‘And was Ebony clumsy, too, and Sarah?’ He allowed the sarcasm he felt to be heard in his voice.
‘Occasionally,’ Graves replied, but there was a flush in his face and a sharp, brittle edge to his voice.
‘Are you clumsy also?’ Daniel asked. ‘Have you had broken bones?’
Grisewood rose again. ‘My lord, this is impertinent, intrusive, and ridiculous.’
‘It is not entirely irrelevant,’ the judge replied. ‘And I do not find it ridiculous. I would like to hear the answer.’
‘No, I am not clumsy,’ Graves said irritably.
‘Never broken a bone?’ Daniel raised his eyebrows. ‘Be careful to be exact, Mr Graves. We have science these days that can tell if a person has any broken bones, even before they are dead. Bones heal, but they look different from bones that have not been broken.’
‘No, I have never broken my bones, and no science will find that I have,’ Graves answered tartly. ‘What has this to do with the fact that Ebony killed Winifred and tried to get me hanged for killing her?’
‘Oh, quite a lot,’ Daniel said with a tiny smile. ‘But we will come to that later. Thank you, my lord, that is all I have for this witness.’
Grisewood stood up and had Graves restate his total innocence, and add some details of his suffering as a result of having been wrongly accused of murdering Ebony.
Daniel addressed the judge. ‘I am quite aware of all that, my lord. In case Mr Graves has forgotten, it was I who worked night and day to prove his innocence.’
‘Indeed, Mr Pitt knows it most of all,’ Grisewood said with a wide smile. ‘The prosecution rests, my lord.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daniel began his defence immediately after an early luncheon recess. He had spent the time with Kitteridge, turning over and over in his mind the possibilities. Should he present as much evidence as possible? Or should he not risk boring the jury, or giving Grisewood too much testimony to challenge? Grisewood would certainly do all he could to destroy Miriam. He would try everything to discredit her skills or make a mockery of her in the courtroom.
‘Are you sure I should expose her to that?’ he kept asking Kitteridge. ‘He’ll try to make her look ridiculous. He’ll use every prejudice possible.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Pitt! She’s a grown woman! Do you appreciate your mother fussing over you to protect you from life?’
‘No, of course not, but that’s different!’
‘Yes, it is! She’s your mother. It’s her job. You are not Miriam’s parent. In fact, she’s almost old enough to be yours.’
‘No, she isn’t!’ Daniel replied hotly.
‘She’s about two or three years short. She’s got Marcus treating her as if she’s made of porcelain, she doesn’t need you too!’
But Daniel was not convinced. All his witnesses were women, and he felt as if he were missing something vital. But which men could he call? Falthorne had already testified, so had Graves, the police, and the police surgeon.
‘Believe in yourself!’ Kitteridge said. ‘If you don’t, the jury will sense it and you’ll lose them. Bite the bullet, Pitt! Get on with it.’
And so Daniel began by calling Ebony Cumberford.
‘I apologise if I should slip and call you Ebony Graves,’ he began. ‘But the majority of the time I have known of you, it was by that name.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I thought of myself by that name,’ she told him. ‘I will take no offence.’
‘Thank you.’ He then led her through her first meeting with Russell Graves, from her point of view. She insisted she had known nothing of Winifred’s existence. Graves appeared to be single, and behaved as if he were. He had courted her; she mentioned certain places and events they had attended together. He asked her to marry him, and she had accepted.
In time, they had moved to their present address in the outskirts of London. Sarah had been born, and then Arthur. In none of that time had Graves made any mention of an earlier marriage.
She knew nothing of the inheritance involving a title and estate. She had learned of it only when Winifred arrived and demanded to see her.
‘That must have been a tremendous shock to you,’ Daniel observed.
‘Small, compared to the news that she was Russell’s legitimate wife, and I was a bigamist, and my children had no standing at all,’ she replied, her voice a little shaky.
‘But you believed it?’
‘She had her marriage lines with her. I could hardly refute it.’
‘You believed her that there had been no divorce?’
‘Russell told me he had never married before. If there had been a divorce, he would have said so, surely. Yes, I believed her. She had come to reclaim her place, now that there was a title and money. If she were divorced, then she would have no claim. There would be no point in her coming.’
‘What did she expect you to do?’
‘I don’t know. I was so horrified I called her a liar and said I would fight her . . . that . . . that was when she lunged at me and I stepped back, and she slipped. I . . . she . . . she slapped me, and I slapped her back. I think she was so surprised, she stepped away and turned her ankle, and fell sideways.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘She struck her head on the corner of the hearthstone . . . and . . . she didn’t move. Not at all. I stood for a moment, expecting her to rise, but she didn’t. She didn’t move . . . even to . . . breathe. I bent over her, and that’s when I realised she wasn’t breathing.’
‘You knew that?’ Daniel asked.
‘I do now. Then I thought . . . I thought she was merely insensible. I stood up and I called for Sarah, my daughter. I knew she was in her own room.’
‘Why?’
‘I thought she could help me lift her up, maybe put her on the bed, and . . . revive her. I told her to bring smelling salts. They’re very sharp. If you faint . . .’
‘And did she?’
‘Yes, she brought the salts . . . but as soon as she kneeled by the woman and touched her, she realised she was dead. I told her what had happened . . .’ Ebony looked desperate. She had at first refused to involve Sarah at all, but Daniel had told her she would not be believed if she said she had managed to lift the body without any help at all. And to implicate her lady’s maid was not only untrue, it was monstrously unfair. And above all, would not be believed. Sarah herself would not allow it.
‘And did Sarah help you to change the clothes on the dead woman to those you were wearing
? And the boots also?’ Daniel prompted.
Grisewood might have objected that Daniel was leading the witness, but he had nothing to gain from it, and sat instead with a half-smile on his face, almost a sneer of disbelief.
‘Yes,’ Ebony admitted reluctantly.
‘When the clothes were changed, you placed her back where she had originally fallen?’
‘Yes.’
‘You dressed in other clothes, leaving hers in your wardrobe, and then you left the house?’
‘Yes.’ Ebony’s voice was growing fainter as she relived the horror.
‘Allowing Sarah to identify the body as yours?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why? Why did you do that, Miss Cumberford? Why not simply report the death, that she had attacked you, and slipped and fallen?’
‘It would have come out who she was . . . and therefore that I was . . . that my children were illegitimate.’
‘Is that all?’
She stared at him with anger in her face, and utter misery. ‘No. I was afraid of being beaten again. I was tired of it, and frightened. It hurts when your bones are broken, it hurts appallingly. I . . . I couldn’t take it another time.’ She did not add that Sarah had persuaded her to, although Sarah had told Daniel that herself. Ebony refused to compromise Sarah any more than she had to.
‘The last time you were beaten was just recently, was it not?’
She closed her eyes, as if she could not bear to see the expression of pity and revulsion on people’s faces. ‘Yes.’
‘Did he injure you?’
Grisewood stood up slowly. ‘My lord, this is all very heartbreaking, I’m sure, but it is completely unprovable. Even if Miss Cumberford could embarrass us all by showing bruises, there is no proof where she got them, or how. She could have slipped and fallen downstairs.’ He shrugged exaggeratedly.
The judge looked at Daniel. This was the moment he had been angling for. He must word it exactly. This chance would not come twice.
‘My lord, I understand this is hard to believe, and the whole of Miss Cumberford’s story is in the balance, as my learned friend suggests.’ Grisewood had not gone so far as to say anything on it – but Daniel had.
‘Well, Mr Pitt?’ the judge asked.
‘I call Miss fford Croft to the stand, my lord.’
‘Miss fford Croft?’ Grisewood’s eyebrows shot up. ‘In what capacity?’
Daniel turned to the judge, as if it were he who had asked. ‘She has sat the degree examinations at Cambridge in medicine, and in chemistry, my lord. I think that expertise will become apparent.’
‘Oh, really!’ Grisewood was filled with derision.
The judge looked up at him with dislike, then turned back to Daniel again. ‘Is she related to Marcus fford Croft, by any chance?’
‘Yes, my lord, she is his daughter.’
‘Very well. But you will have to allow Mr Grisewood to cross-examine her when you are finished.’ He made it almost a question, giving Daniel time to withdraw if he thought it too much for Miriam. He actually thought Miriam would take him to pieces if he did that!
Miriam was duly sworn and prepared to face Daniel. She was dressed in a deep wine-coloured suit, very plain but so well-tailored it managed to look businesslike and yet very feminine at the same time. She was not as slender as Daniel had remembered, and rather more gracefully curved. Her bright hair was coiled very fashionably. She looked fragile, compared with the sturdiness of Grisewood. Daniel was suddenly afraid for her. Perhaps this was a mistake? He was not willing to sacrifice Miriam, no matter how angry she might be, in order to save Ebony. There had to be another way.
‘Mr Pitt?’ The judge brought him sharply back to the present.
‘Miss fford Croft, would you tell his lordship, and the court, what expertise you have to give evidence before this court? What have you studied, where, and for how long?’ Did his voice sound as shaky and defensive as he felt?
‘I studied medicine for some six years, and chemistry for five. At Cambridge, my lord. I passed all my exams with honours.’
‘So, you have degrees in both medicine and chemistry?’ Daniel prompted.
‘No, sir.’ She kept the anger from her face, but she could not hide the grief. ‘As may be apparent, I am a woman.’
‘I see,’ said Daniel. ‘Or actually I don’t see, but I have checked with the university and I know it is true. Thank you, Miss fford Croft.’ He turned towards the judge. ‘With his lordship’s permission, I will now question you regarding your knowledge in this particular case.’
‘Proceed.’ The judge nodded his head fractionally.
‘Yes, my lord.’ There was no help for it now, no way except ahead. ‘Miss fford Croft, the police surgeon examined the body by the fireplace, and accepted Miss Graves’ identification of it as Ebony Graves. In the course of my attempts to defend Mr Graves on the charge of having murdered his wife, did you have cause to examine that body yourself? And if so, what conclusions did you reach?’
Grisewood rose to his feet, and the judge ordered him to sit down before he could raise his objection. ‘I will tell the jury to ignore it, if it is irrelevant, Mr Grisewood,’ he said sharply. ‘Let us hear it first.’
‘What did you find, Miss fford Croft?’ Daniel asked. He was nervous now, and it was reflected in his voice. He could hear it himself.
‘That the burns had been made after death, using linseed oil and oiled silk, and some such thing to ignite, as a safety match, or possibly a taper from the fire,’ Miriam replied. ‘And a certain amount of cotton had been used to carry the heat and provide fuel. I also X-rayed the bones, and discovered that they had four old, well-healed breaks in them. Three in the hand and arms, one in the ankle.’
‘How did you know they were long-healed?’ he asked.
‘When a bone is healing, the body puts new calcium on the breach, rather as we would put cement on a piece of broken china. It thickens with time, and I have X-rays here that perhaps I will be allowed to show the jury?’ She turned to the judge. ‘If I may, my lord?’ She held up a very large photographic print. He put out his hand.
She deliberately left the witness stand and walked gracefully across the floor of the court, and offered him the photograph, although actually it was shadowy black and white, allowing the light through it – a negative rather than a print.
‘Thank you.’ He took it and looked at it.
‘That is a hand,’ she offered. ‘It’s rather beautiful, is it not? You can see the structure and how many bones there are in it. A most perfect instrument, strong, easily manipulated, delicate, agile and fit for an infinity of purposes.’
The judge smiled. ‘You are very enthusiastic in your art, Dr . . . Miss fford Croft.’
‘Not my art, my lord. God’s, or whoever you believe created us. I merely explain.’
She handed him another picture.
He looked at it, then at her. ‘What’s this? This is not a hand.’
‘No, my lord. It is a clavicle, a collarbone, if you like. And this leading off here,’ she pointed, ‘is a shoulder blade, and you can see the spine behind it.’
‘And these white marks?’ he asked, frowning at her.
‘Here and here?’ She looked at him. ‘They are places where the bones have been broken. And here. This one was some time ago, it is now healed. This one was more recent. That, I should judge, was less than a year ago.’
He looked startled. ‘Good God, what happened to her?’
‘I believe she was systematically beaten and abused, my lord.’
‘What on earth kind of life did she lead? No wonder she sought to relieve it by making claims on Mr Graves!’
Miriam cleared her throat. ‘These are not pictures of Winifred Graves’ bones, my lord. These are pictures of the right shoulder and arm of Miss Cumberford – Mrs Graves, as she believed she was, until Winifred turned up. That is when Ebony took the chance to escape, even at such cost to her reputation, her wellbeing, and the temporary loss of
her children.’
The judge stared at her, for a moment wordless.
‘If I may offer an opinion, my lord,’ Miriam continued before the judge could speak. ‘I do not think that these shoulders of Miss Cumberford would have had the physical strength to fight Winifred. There are many other injuries, both to fingers and toes, in addition to two broken ribs, a broken ulna – the lower arm – and a broken fibula in the left leg. All of them are healed, but over a space of approximately twenty years.’
‘Good God!’ exclaimed the judge. ‘And do you swear to this, Miss fford Croft?’
‘Yes, my lord, but if you have any doubt they can be X-rayed again. The results will be the same.’
‘I recall breaking my heel once, when I was a young man. The pain was extraordinary. This woman must have suffered . . . beyond my imagination.’
‘Yes, my lord. And been very afraid. I found two broken ribs in Miss Sarah, also. I did not examine Mr Arthur.’
‘Show these images to the jury,’ said the judge. ‘If they have any questions, answer as best you can.’
Daniel remained standing, swinging between hope and despair, while the jury examined the X-rays with fascination. Each, at one time or another, looked across at Graves, then at the white-faced figure of Ebony.
Grisewood started to make some protest, but then thought better of it.
Daniel wondered what it would be, and how he would contain it. Would Graves say he was not responsible? It was preposterous that some other man was systematically beating his first wife, and then his second wife, and then his daughter, and he had not known of it.
Miriam left the X-rays with the jury and returned to the witness stand. The judge offered Grisewood the chance to cross-examine Miriam but he had no questions for her.
The jury stared at her, but in admiration and delight at the complicated and beautiful pictures of bones. Daniel saw at least two of the jurors hold up their own hands and gaze at them, as if marvelling at their beauty, as if they could imagine what existed beneath the ordinary flesh.