The door swung open again and they both turned to see Mandy, the woman in charge of witness care, poke her head around the door.
“Okay, Brandine, you’ve been summoned,” she said sweetly. Seeing the looks on their faces, or perhaps sensing the tension in the room, the smile faltered. “Erm, they’re waiting for you, so –”
Brandy looked at her and it all became too much for her. She couldn’t walk into the courtroom, she couldn’t relive what had happened. She couldn’t handle Keskia in her face, telling her what Troy’s rights were.
“I can’t do this,” she stammered, shaking her head. Mandy stepped in, looking concerned. Keskia remained where she was, uncertain now. Brandy pushed past Mandy, throwing the door open. “I’m sorry, I can’t do any of this.”
Out in the corridor, she saw Aunt Bo’s head peering round the door to the witnesses’ waiting room. Before she could say anything, Brandy turned in the opposite direction. She caught sight of the panels of glass in the entrance hall and her pace quickened. She hurried past the security desk and threw open the door, savouring the sunlight and fresh air that enveloped her as she walked out onto the street. Without looking backwards, hardly daring to, she began down the road.
* * *
In the dock, Troy sensed that something was going on outside the courtroom. Lindhurst had sent for Brandy a few minutes ago, and she still hadn’t come in yet. Lindhurst was looking agitated and red-faced, muttering to his colleagues in anxious tones, whilst Khan remained composed, though Troy knew she was hoping, the same as him, that Brandy had pulled out.
The court clerk conferred with the judge and left the room, probably to go and see what the fuck was going on. Judge Harksaw glared at Lindhurst, as if this was his fault, and Troy hoped this would go in his favour.
He wondered, looking around him at all the perplexed faces, if Brandy had changed her mind because she still had feelings for him. He had never really considered that before. When he had found out she had provided Detective Patterson with the knife he’d used to kill Shaniqua with, he had thought that any love for him she might have had was gone, but perhaps not, he thought now.
Had she perhaps regretted helping get him locked up? Had she cried herself to sleep at night, wishing she could go back and erase that error in judgement? He wondered what he would do if she really did still love him. Of course, he would have to punish her, because whether she regretted it or not, she had brought him here, to this dock, and he could not forget that slight. Yes, he thought, he would have to make her suffer, but when she had been punished, would he give her another chance? He had spent the months in prison thinking only of revenge, and it hadn’t really occurred to him that she might still love him.
He would probably take her back, he realised. She would owe him, though, and he would make sure he knew that she had a lot of making up to do before he forgot what she had done. He would fuck other girls, he knew, and he’d make sure that Brandy knew about them. Maybe he’d even make her watch, that would torture her. The thought of Brandy’s torment sustained him, and he was almost surprised to be torn from his thoughts when Judge Harksaw cleared his throat, the court clerk back at her desk beside him, having given him a piece of paper.
“The court is adjourned whilst the witness is retrieved,” Judge Harksaw said solemnly, and the court erupted into whispers.
Troy looked at the greying guard beside him, unsure what he was supposed to do. The guard made no effort to move, and Troy stayed whilst the clerk told everyone to stand up for Judge Harksaw to leave for his chambers.
When the judge was gone, Troy allowed himself a smile, pleased that today was turning out to be just as good as yesterday.
* * *
Aurora felt frustrated as she filed out of the courtroom with everyone else, Marlena’s face clouded with anger as she walked beside her. They paused across the corridor from the doors, and Aurora wondered whether Brandy could be forced to give her evidence, or if she would remain silent, facing prison again just so she wouldn’t have to stand up and talk about what they had done to Shaniqua.
A woman passed them on the way to the toilets, and Marlena’s face darkened. The woman, in a cheap-suit, her hair tied back and hoops at her ears, looked shocked to see them, and from the look on her mum’s face, Aurora knew the feeling was mutual for her.
“What are you doing here?” Marlena demanded. “Isn’t it bad enough your daughter’s causing all this drama, did you have to come and show your face?”
Aurora was shocked by her mum’s words, and looked at the woman in front of them. Her eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, looking unabashed.
“Don’t give me shit for what Brandy’s doing, I ain’t got no control over her,” the woman said, hand on hip. “And don’t blame me for being here, my fat-arse sister dragged us all here, so don’t go giving me a hard time for –”
“You’ve got some nerve,” Marlena shook her head. Aurora watched them with bewilderment. What could her mum possibly have against Brandy’s mum? She hated Brandy right now, but they could hardly hold her mum responsible. Marlena leant forward, fists clenched at her sides. “I’d get myself gone if I was you. You should be ashamed, turning up here.”
“Mum –” Aurora protested, and both women looked at her.
A smile appeared on Brandy’s mum’s face, and she shot a sly look at Marlena.
“So this is your girl,” she said, looking her over. “The youngest, obviously. The other one ain’t looking so pretty now, is she?”
Aurora was shocked by her malicious tone, by her words, and Marlena grabbed the woman’s shirt, wiping the smile off her face.
“Even though she’s dead, Shaniqua’s ten times the girl yours is,” she hissed, sending flecks of spittle onto the woman’s face. “Now get the fuck away from us, or you’ll bloody well wish you had.”
Brandy’s mum gave them each a spiteful look and sauntered off into the toilets. Aurora looked at her mum, wanting to know what it had all been about, but the look on her face told her that now wasn’t the time.
“Come on,” she said eventually, still shaken by the encounter. She clasped her mum’s arm, leading her down the corridor. “Let’s go get a coffee.”
* * *
At the station, Carl stared at the screen in front of him, hand hovering on the mouse. He had been reviewing more files in the Jasper Okoro case, but something about this morning did not sit well with him.
Serena had said that Bolton must have had the stolen money, and he was inclined to agree with her after Dante’s reaction. He remembered the hours in the aftermath of Bolton’s death, Charley’s hysteria and Asher’s stress as he tried to keep his family together and deal with what he had witnessed.
Carl did not want to think about it, but he knew that Asher had not been with him all night, though he had come to stay with him after the commotion had died down. And he had not gone straight to his mother’s flat to comfort Charley.
A thought had struck him, one that was not only unwelcome but dangerous.
Asher had been with Bolton when he died. If Bolton had stolen the money, would he have confessed before his death? Would he have used his dying breaths to tell Asher where the money was, or give him a location so that Charley could benefit?
Carl knew his boyfriend, knew that Asher loved his job on the force and would never do anything to endanger it, but he also knew that his family would always come first. He loved his family more than anything. If it had come down to it, which would Asher have chosen?
He did not want to know the answer, and Carl wanted desperately to forget this trail of thought. He glanced over his screen at Serena, jotting down notes on her pad and trying not to upset him for a second time this morning.
As much as he dreaded what he might find, Carl knew that it would be better for all concerned if he was the one to look down this line of enquiry rather than Patterson. He just hoped that, when he got to the bottom of it, he did not regret what he might find.
* * *
&n
bsp; Brandy stopped at the bus-stop, Keskia just a few feet behind her. Brandy willed herself to stay calm, but she was sure that chaos was descending back at court and Keskia wasn’t willing to give up. She stopped in front of Brandy, and when Brandy made to look away, she shook her shoulders, demanding she look at her.
“Is running away going to solve anything?” Keskia asked, her tone desperate, and Brandy averted her gaze. “I’m not going to let this drop, Brandy.”
“Of course you won’t,” Brandy shook her head. “Why did you think I never wanted you to know?”
Keskia let go of her, her arms dropping to her sides. Brandy risked a glance at her, and saw how defeated the woman in front of her looked.
“I have a grandson I knew nothing about,” Keskia said. “Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“I don’t care,” Brandy insisted. She scanned the road for an approaching bus, but she wasn’t in luck.
“No, I didn’t think you would,” Keskia said. “I understand that you’re scared, but is that any reason to keep him from us? I’ve got a son in prison, a daughter who doesn’t speak to me, and two sons who are – well, you know them. Is it too much to ask that I get to see my grandson?”
Brandy looked at her, pitying the woman and hating her at the same time.
“And what’s going to happen when Troy finds out?” Brandy asked, raising an eyebrow. Keskia’s shoulders slumped. “He’s in prison, it won’t do him any good to know. It’ll make his time worse if anything.”
“At least he would know he had a son,” Keskia countered, defiant.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be putting himself up for father of the fucking year,” Brandy snorted. Keskia looked unmoved, and Brandy let out a long breath, wishing that she had never come here, that Keskia had never been given a chance to find out the truth. “If Troy finds out, I’ll never be free of him, don’t you understand that?”
Keskia’s eyes met hers, and Brandy thought she saw understanding there.
“I do,” Keskia admitted. “But –”
“Do you really think it’s in my son’s best interests that Troy is a part of his life?” Brandy asked, despairing. “Hell, I’m a fucking terrible mother, but you know what? I’m nothing compared to what Troy would be like.”
“We don’t know that,” Keskia snapped.
“Really? Open your eyes, you’ve seen what he’s like, you know what he’s done,” Brandy said. “Do you really want your grandson being brought up to be a younger version of Troy?”
“No,” Keskia admitted slowly, looking conflicted. Brandy felt for the woman, but she couldn’t allow herself to be tethered to Troy and the Banks brothers for life.
“So you know why I don’t want Troy to find out,” Brandy said.
“You’re asking me to lie to him?” Keskia asked, offended.
“No, not to lie,” Brandy said, shaking her head, desperate to make her understand. “He doesn’t know anything, so just don’t tell him, don’t tell Tyrese or Trent, just let my boy have a chance at a life, a good life. I know you’ll tell them all anyway, but –”
“I won’t,” Keskia said. Brandy was shocked to hear her say the words, and looked at her for a long moment, wondering if she had misheard. Keskia couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “I won’t tell Troy, or any of them. But only if you make me a promise –”
“Shit,” Brandy murmured, catching sight of a police car pull over on the kerb alongside them. She knew that they were here for her. She turned to Keskia, anxious for her promise that Troy would never find out. “What do you want me to do?” she asked quickly.
Keskia took a deep breath, glancing at the officers as they climbed out of the patrol car.
“If I lie to my boys, you have to lie too,” she said quietly. “To the court, to the judge.”
“What?” Brandy asked, shocked. The police officers were nearing, eyes on her.
“I don’t want my son to spend his life in prison,” Keskia said. “If you don’t give evidence, he might have a chance.”
“You want me to –”
“Give my son a chance at having a life,” Keskia said, nodding her head, eyes over Brandy’s shoulder at the police officers she knew were approaching behind her. “Just like I’m agreeing to give yours,” Keskia said firmly.
Brandy opened her mouth when a hand closed around her shoulder, and Keskia took a step back as the two policemen cornered her.
“Miss Mason, you’re going to have to come back to court,” one of them said, without even looking at Keskia. Brandy looked over his shoulder at her, wondering whether this was a trick, or a test. She couldn’t be sure.
Brandy allowed herself to be guided to the back door of the police car, and when the door closed behind her, she saw Keskia watching her, eyes imploring her to accept the offer she had made. Brandy took a deep breath as the engine caught and they drove back up the road, the courthouse quickly coming back into view on the side of the street. Whatever she did next, Brandy knew, would be with her for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER NINE
The courtroom was silent as Brandy was led down the aisle between the two sides of the public gallery, feeling eyes glaring at her from every direction. She did not see any faces she recognised, even though she knew that there were people here that hated her; Aurora and her mum, and Keskia and her eldest sons, for starters. She kept her eyes straight ahead, following the clerk, so focused on controlling her breathing that anything else seemed like too much effort.
Brandy could see the dock looming to one side, and she knew that Troy was sitting up there, narrowed eyes watching her approach, probably scowling at her, or trying to intimidate her with a dark, angry look. She didn’t look in his direction, she wasn’t sure if she could handle that. She might pass out, or try to run again.
She did not look at the jury, knowing they would already be judging her, wondering what she might have to say, and then the clerk guided her into the witness box. There was no seat, Brandy realised. She stood in the box, her hands trembling, fearing her legs would give way from nerves and she would look like an idiot in front of everyone. Maybe it was too late for that, she thought.
The clerk lifted the Bible and Brandy placed a shaking hand on the front cover. The clerk smiled at Brandy reassuringly, but Brandy’s throat felt bone dry. She had been told outside the courtroom to read the oath from a piece of paper the clerk held up now and she licked her cracked lips, hoping her voice would not crack.
“I swear by God,” Brandy said, after clearing her throat. “That my evidence to the court and the jury on this trial,” she coughed, her throat painfully dry. “Shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
The clerk nodded towards the glass of water in front of her and took away the book, going to sit on the other side of the judge. Brandy clutched the glass of water in shaking hands and sipped, grateful for the cool liquid, feeling her throat loosen, and her nerves began to fade just a little.
The prosecutor, who introduced himself as Lindhurst, stepped forward, with a curious smile in her direction. Brandy felt her body tense and her nerves fluttered again.
“Brandine, you were in a relationship with the accused for –”
“Brandy,” she corrected him. Lindhurst’s eyes flashed with anger, and she swallowed hard, reaching for the glass of water again.
“Brandy, my apologies,” Lindhurst said without amusement. “You were in a relationship with the accused at the time of Shaniqua Curtis’ murder, is that true?”
“Yeah,” Brandy confirmed. “We’d been together for –”
“Now, you and Troy were almost inseparable, according to other witness statements, is that correct?” Lindhurst asked. “And by inseparable, I mean –”
“I know what it means,” Brandy snapped. She gulped down some water. “I guess you could say that. We spent a lot of time together, I practically lived at his –”
“And so on the night that Shaniqua Curtis was murdered, you would have been with
Troy Banks at the time?” Lindhurst asked, eyebrow raised. Brandy nodded. Lindhurst stepped closer. “Could you confirm that, please?”
“Yes,” Brandy said, feeling sweat trickling under her breasts from her armpits. “We were together at the time.”
Lindhurst nodded, and Brandy knew what was coming next. He turned to look at the jury, then returned his gaze to her.
“You were together, like you always were, on that night,” Lindhurst summarised, his tone excited. “Did you witness Troy Banks kill Shaniqua Curtis?”
Brandy took another drink of water, her stomach constricting painfully. She could sense the tension in the courtroom at the question. She remembered Keskia’s words, and without thinking about it, she turned and looked up at the dock. Troy looked down at her, his mouth slightly open, apprehensive about what she would answer. Keskia’s words echoed around in her head, and she knew that if she hoped to keep Troy out of her life, she would have to lie, as Keskia had begged her, but would that really make a difference? If Troy was released, what was to stop Keskia from telling him the truth anyway?
She imagined Aurora and her mum somewhere in the public gallery, hoping she would do the right thing, and Keskia, Tyrese and Trent hoping she would lie. She couldn’t hope to keep everyone happy. She sipped some more water, and Lindhurst cleared his throat, her eyes snapping back to him, his face going pink.
“Miss Mason?” he prompted her, with an uncertain smile. “Did you witness Troy Banks kill Shaniqua Curtis that night?”
Brandy put the glass of water back down and took a deep breath. She hoped that she wouldn’t regret her answer. She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do or not, but she said the words anyway.
“No,” Brandy said firmly, not looking up at Troy again. “I didn’t see him do anything. He didn’t kill Shaniqua Curtis.”
* * *
Lindhurst seemed undeterred by the ripple of whispers that erupted throughout the courtroom, and Brandy gulped down some more water. He forced a smile, his cheeks turning red at the surprise turn in events.
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