Mr. Clifford pushed further. “Did you ever tell her about Henry Whitington-Smyth?”
“Eventually, yes I did tell her. People keep things to themselves and don't necessarily tell their partners everything,” he retorted.
“You probably needed the time to get your story straight,” Mr. Clifford retaliated. “You were well practiced by the time you started telling people about Mr. Whitington-Smyth.”
Mark showed his irritation for the first time. “It wasn't difficult to explain what happened. It's easy to tell a story when you know what you have done.”
"The only reason you admitted to the police about sending the money to England was because it was essential," Mr. Clifford interrupted, changing the subject.
Mark glanced around the courtroom before responding. "I see James Leary down there. I asked him if there was any chance of getting my money back."
Mr. Clifford quickly explained to the jury that Mark was on first name terms with some of the police officers. Mark was equally swift in his response. "They sat in my kitchen with me for three or four hours. Why wouldn't I call them by their names?"
The barrister decided to probe him about his telephone calls. "There was telephone traffic between your number and Savannah Kingston's phone."
"There were a lot of phone calls mentioned. Twenty seven conversations were suggested to me when it may have been more like four or five conversations which were a few minutes each. I was attempting to return a call to a blackmailer."
"Were you blackmailed by a man?"
"I think at the time I couldn't be certain if it was one or two men. I don't know who was ringing me. It was difficult to know where the call was coming from but I never telephoned Savannah Kingston."
"Are you saying that you never spoke directly with Savannah Kingston after the package had been sent?"
"No, I did not."
“Are you claiming that the numerous phone calls between you and Savannah Kingston were in fact phone calls to a blackmailer?”
Mark shook his head again. “No, some of the calls were to Henry.”
“But the calls are between the same two numbers,” Mr. Clifford quickly countered.
“The numbers were withheld. It was difficult to know.”
The line of questioning moved on to the computers at the centre of the case. It was pointed out to him that emails had been retrieved from several computers, two of which were in Ireland; one at the office and the other at Cois Farraige, the house he shared with Rebecca."
"How many people had access to those computers?"
"Obviously, I had access, as had Rebecca, Shona and Penelope. My son, Christopher, would have had access to anything in the house, but not in the office." He glanced over at his son who refused to make eye contact with him. Christopher had sat stony-faced in the courtroom throughout the trial. He was pale and withdrawn and was utterly devastated by the accusations which were being made against his father.
"Did anyone else have access to the computers?"
"There were a few others who may have used the computers too."
“Are you “devils-revenge”?”
“No, I am not.”
“It’s an interesting coincidence that “devils-revenge” kept signing himself as Mark. How would you explain that?”
“It wasn't me. I understand that it's your job to bring in a guilty verdict but I can assure you I'm not “devils-revenge”.”
“But the emails are very detailed; details that only you could know,” Mr. Clifford remarked. “The writing style in the emails is similar to the letters which you admit writing to the Director of Public Prosecutions.”
Mark agreed that some of the language used in the emails was similar to his own. "I don't know what was going on but some of it was definitely not written the way that I write." He stood firm and repeated that he hadn't written them but the barrister was relentless and was in no way disconcerted by his continued denials and smiles at the jury.
“I made the whole situation clear to the police when they questioned me but they didn't write everything down.”
“We know you weren't happy with the interviews,” Mr. Clifford conceded.
Mark nodded. “I actually have quite a long list of points which I would like my defence team to address, but I think the jury may want to finish up for today.” He flashed a mega watt smile at the jurors.
The barrister was not impressed by his grandstanding. “The jury will have the right to request your interview videos once they have begun their deliberations and it's up to them to decide if the differences matter. Right now it's the emails from “devils-revenge” that are of interest to the Prosecution.”
Mark was insistent. “I'm not “devils-revenge.” I'm a victim. I've been blackmailed. I never made any secret about paying the money. I think the position I find myself in is ludicrous.”
“It's of your own making, Mr. McNamara.”
“I don't agree with you. I was set up.”
“It must have been someone with a particularly Machiavellian mind who set you up,” Mr. Clifford continued. “They would have had to have crept around your house to use your computer and when they were framing you they would have had to have been very precise in their internet searches for photography equipment and flights to France at the same time as they were searching for an assassin. Whoever set you up must have known you well.”
“Anything is possible.”
"Why didn't you tell the police about the computer that was missing from your house?"
"I most certainly did inform them. It's in the Book of Evidence. You should look it up," Mark challenged.
Mr. Clifford was unperturbed by his demeanour and continued to fire questions at him. "The police never found any trace of your correspondence with Mr. Whitington-Smyth."
"So I've been told," Mark beamed from the witness box. "It's not unheard of that emails can be lost."
Mark had been on the stand for almost half an hour at that stage and he remained relaxed and comfortable. It was clear that he was thoroughly enjoying his moment in the spotlight. Mr. Clifford continued to probe him about the context of the various emails at the centre of the case while Mark adjusted the stripy tie he wore against his pale blue shirt. He continued to smile.
"You are "devils-revenge",” the barrister repeated.
"I'm not.” Mark immediately denied.
"You don't have a shred of evidence to prove otherwise," Mr. Clifford retaliated.
Mark was equally swift in his response. "I had hoped that the police would find something. I even wrote to the Director of Public Prosecutions and asked if he could have somebody investigate the theft of my life, but he chose not to follow through with it."
"There's no way that you can accuse the police of being lazy. They have engaged in an exhaustive investigation."
Again, this yielded a swift response from the witness. "I'm not so sure they were exhausted. They seemed to have had a lot of holidays. Anyway, I don't believe for a moment that anyone ever intended to kill three people."
"The presence of ricin will contradict you," Mr. Clifford quickly responded.
"Well, I don't know anything about ricin," Mark replied. "I can tell you that I certainly didn't intend to have three people killed."
"There was a lot of detail in the emails that only a few people would know."
"Who do you think sent them?" Mark asked.
"You, Mr. McNamara, you," Mr. Clifford replied. "There was consistency between the emails and other proven facts, including that when Savannah Kingston arrived at the house she had photographs and investigators found an email which referred to sending photographs of the three intended victims. There was even a photograph of you where it was stated; "I'm the handsome devil in the tuxedo.""
"I'm amazed that somebody would identify themselves like that to a would-be assassin. Would anybody really be that stupid? Surely if someone had planned to do something like that, they would have tried to cover their tracks a little better."
"Are you saying that someone assumed by deleting them that they wouldn't be found?"
"Yes."
"Why go to the bother of getting someone to break into the office?"
The questions were being hurled back and forth between the two at a fast pace and Mark was feeling thirsty. "Excuse me," he smiled before leaning forward and pouring himself a glass of water. He slowly drank the water and braced himself to answer the flow of questions which continued to be thrown at him.
"One of the emails suggested disposing of the computer in the sea, when in fact it was discarded in bushes behind the hotel."
"So I believe," Mark shrugged nonchalantly.
"You don't believe it?"
"So I believe," Mark repeated, enunciating each syllable.
"Are you aware that deleted emails can be retrieved?"
"Of course, everything is retrievable these days."
"Are you aware of net analysis?"
"No, but I'm sure I'm about to find out."
"Net analysis is the second by second reconstruction of a computer."
"No, I'm not aware of that. I'm appalled that my email address was being accessed because I wasn't using it myself. However, my password is saved on all the computers that I use which might explain how someone could have used my email address."
"Do you think someone has a motive to set you up? You seem to be trying to imply that there is someone."
The question was met with a pause and there was silence in the courtroom. A few seconds passed before Mark finally spoke. "I've been brought to the police station and questioned at length. I've been charged with crimes that I certainly didn't commit and never would commit. I've been put in prison. You can't even begin to imagine the effect it's having on my life. I refuse to accuse anybody of anything when I don't know for certain. I would hate to wrongfully accuse someone and have them experience what I have been forced to endure."
"Do you think it was Rebecca McNamara?"
"No."
"Who's left? Are you suggesting it was Penelope Garrett or Shona Morgan?"
"Only a limited number of people have access to the office."
"Why do you think Ms. Garrett or Ms. Morgan would set you up?"
"You'd have to ask them." It was the first time that Mark seemed to be getting uncomfortable.
"Were they trying to get money from you?"
"I don't know."
"You don't have much money anymore, do you?"
"No."
"You signed over your half of the business and the family home to your wife, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Why would you do that?"
"I did it to prove to my wife that I wanted our relationship to work."
"Your wife owns all the assets now; assets which were previously yours."
"Yes."
"How long have you been married?"
"Twenty one years,” Mark beamed proudly.
“What is your relationship with Shona Morgan and Penelope Garrett?”
Mark coughed before answering “They are business colleagues.”
“Is that all? Is it not true that you were cheating on your wife with these two women, neither of whom knew about the other?”
“Yes,” Mark replied quietly. “It's not something I'm proud of but Rebecca and I were going through a bad patch in our marriage.”
“So you cheated on her with not one but two women. Was there anyone else?” A murmur of incredulity ran through the courtroom. Mark’s shiny image was being well and truly tarnished.
“I don't think I need to explain the private matters between two married people.”
"Do you think your wife has been humiliated?"
"I think if somebody was planning to kill me that I'd get over the humiliation. I know if someone was shown the amount of evidence that Rebecca has been shown about someone trying to kill her that I wouldn't let my pride get in the way."
"Did you discuss the evidence with Rebecca?"
"No, not really, but I know the police shared a lot of the evidence with her."
"Your wife hasn't appeared in the courtroom for several days."
"Can you blame her, after everything she's been put through?" Mark snapped.
"Is Rebecca a woman of secrets?"
"Isn't everyone?"
"It seems you let the secret out of the bag. Do you think that you had motive to kill these three women?"
"I do not."
"Your diary was retrieved and in it you wrote that your situation was unbearable. Was it unbearable?"
"No."
"You also wrote that you were worried about "making a move." What did you mean exactly?"
"I was trying to work out if I should leave and start over again. I had nobody to talk to so writing helped me figure things out."
"Why didn't you get a divorce and walk away?"
"I could have left, but I didn't want to leave my home and my baby. Rebecca was in poor health after our son was born and I felt obliged to help her. I know I could have left and I would have done well out of the divorce settlement but I was finding it difficult to make a final decision."
"Did Rebecca verbally abuse you?"
"Sometimes, but I probably deserved it." Mark smiled wryly.
"You wrote in your diary that your wife was prone to black moods."
"Yes, she suffered with post-natal depression."
"How would these black moods manifest?"
"She sometimes threw tantrums and there were days when she hardly spoke and couldn't even get out of bed to look after the baby."
Mr. Clifford wasn't about to give up easily. He pointed out the obvious. “The hatred of “devils-revenge” for the women was obvious in the emails sent to “assassin_hire.”. I would say that hatred is a powerful motive.”
Mark vigorously shook his head. “It's not a motive to kill three people.”
“Did you and your wife talk about your affairs?”
“Yes but I don't want to discuss the matter any further. I don't see the relevance.”
“It’s very relevant,” Mr. Clifford insisted. “This is a conspiracy to murder trial and for that a motive is required. It's far easier to order the killing of someone you hate and that's what your emails seem to suggest.”
Mark shook his head again. A concerned frown creased his brow. “I realise that a motive is usually needed to kill someone but my disagreement with my wife was a motive to leave. It wasn't a motive to kill. I most certainly do not hate Rebecca. She is the mother of my children. If I hated her I would have left her, not killed her. I may have disliked a quality or an action of hers, which is to be expected after twenty one years of marriage. It's possible to love someone but not necessarily like them all the time."
Mr. Clifford shook his head. “Hatred wasn't your only motive. Money was another major motive in hiring an assassin.”
Mark leaned forward. “That's ridiculous!”
“Rebecca tricked you into signing over your share of the family home and business to her when she discovered your affairs. She was after revenge so maybe you decided it was time to exact a revenge of your own.”
Mr. Clifford continued to question Mark about his diary and eventually he'd had enough and wasn't afraid of letting the court know how he felt. "I don't want to discuss my personal diary any further. I don't see how it relates to murder.”
“Police retrieved an email where it was written "I want to inherit.” Perhaps your motive was inheritance."
"I would have been financially secure if I'd divorced Rebecca."
Eventually the questions came to an end. Mark stepped down from the witness box after his grilling and took his seat beside his legal team.
"How does he keep going?" Shona leaned across to whisper in Penelope's ear. It amazed them both how he had remained so calm and collected throughout the afternoon. The intense questioning seemed to have run off him with little or no effect.
"It'll be interesting to see how he reacts to his cross-examination tomorrow morning," Penelope replied as she stared at Mark.
Chapter 15
Mark was on the stand for two days of intense cross-examination which resumed early the following morning. The allegations and suggestions which were made in the course of the trial were hard-hitting but one of the most dramatic aspects of the trial was Mark's overnight transformation. The cheerful, smiling, confident man who left the witness box the previous afternoon was suddenly replaced by a quiet, sombre man. The brashness and bravado were gone, replaced only by sadness. He seemed tense as everyone gathered for the second day of evidence. His face was drawn and there was exhaustion showing in the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed markedly older as he once again took the stand and Mr. Clifford continued his questioning. The barrister had no pity for him and immediately began his relentless barrage of questions. The drill on the second day was to be a detailed re-examination of the computer evidence.
"Why would anyone access your emails?"
"I don't know," Mark quietly replied.
"Various searches were carried out on your office computer for such things as mortgages, travel companies and inheritance rights. Searches were also carried out for a hitman. The “devils-revenge” email and your personal email account, “MarkMc,” were accessed on the same day."
"I didn't go into the “devils-revenge” account. I never even heard of that email until the police told me about it."
"Music videos were also accessed around the same time. It seems you were relaxing after a day's work while searching for inheritance rights and contract killers."
"I never downloaded any music videos."
"Did you send money to Savannah Kingston?"
"I didn't send any money to Ms. Kingston. I sent money to stop the blackmail."
Details of various emails which were sent by "devils-revenge" were put to Mark but he repeatedly denied any knowledge of the email account. "I can't comment. It's dreadful but those emails certainly were not written by me."
“Whoever set you up must have been very devious indeed,” Mr. Clifford repeated his deductions from the previous day. “It's amazing that this mystery person has exactly the same interests as you; photography equipment and flights to France.”
Unfaithful (The Complete Trilogy) Page 32