by June Tate
She gave a wry smile. ‘Oh, Ben, and things were going so well!’
‘Never mind. When it’s over we can get on with our lives. The case shouldn’t be far off now. I’ll try and find out when it’s on the list. Look, darling, I have to go, but I’ll be round later tonight.’
As he walked away, Marj sidled over to Phoebe. ‘Everything all right, love?’
Shaking her head, Phoebe said, ‘No. Arthur Stanley was murdered in his cell today. Now I’m the only witness.’
‘Bloody ’ell! What ’appened?’
‘He was stabbed, apparently. That’s all I know.’ She let out a deep sigh. ‘Oh, Marj!’
Marj put an arm round her. ‘You’ll be all right, love. All you can do is tell the truth, then that rotten bugger will get what ’e deserves.’
‘I know. There’s poor old Arthur paying for his brother’s dirty deed. It doesn’t seem right somehow.’
‘It don’t seem fair, but there you go. Now don’t you go worrying yourself sick about going to court. You’ll be doing everyone a favour.’
In Wormwood Scrubs, Percy had been summoned to see the governor, to his surprise. As he was taken there by a warder, he couldn’t possibly imagine why the governor would want to talk to him. Was he perhaps being moved to another prison? But if so, why?
The warder knocked on the office door and opened it, leading Percy in by the arm.
Looking up from the work on his desk, the governor stared at him, studying him for a moment before speaking.
‘I’m not sure if what I have to tell you is upsetting or not, but I’m sorry to tell you that Arthur, your brother, passed away earlier today.’
Percy just stared back at him, his expression unchanged. ‘What did he die of?’
‘He was stabbed several times, and the doctor was unable to save him. I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘Is that all?’ Percy asked.
‘Yes. Take him back to his cell,’ the warder was told.
When he was alone, the governor shook his head. ‘Cold-hearted bastard,’ he muttered.
As he was escorted back to his cell, Percy could hardly keep the smile from his face. Now that Arthur was dead, his testimony was not such strong evidence without him sitting in the witness box, telling his sad tale! Sad news? Bloody wonderful news!
The warder let him into his cell. ‘I can see you’re broken-hearted about your brother,’ he said, then he locked the door.
Percy sat on his bed, thinking, plotting. He would emphatically deny the murder. He’d say it was self-defence. A clever brief could sow the seeds of doubt in a jury’s mind. Enough to give reasonable doubt, and they’d have to let him off, then the only charge would be the burglary and him selling the stolen goods. A prison sentence for such a misdemeanour wouldn’t be that long. After, he’d be free. But then he remembered: the police said they had a witness. If it was that girl in the market, then he was in real trouble.
Well, the only way he’d find out would be when he was in court.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Percy Stanley’s case was on the court list for late September at Winchester assizes. Once there was a definite date, Phoebe was unable to put the idea of appearing in court to the back of her mind. What stressed her more than actually giving evidence was knowing that Percy would be in the court room listening to her. It kept her awake at nights and when eventually she did sleep, it gave her nightmares.
One morning in the market, Marj seeing the circles under her friend’s eyes, walked over to her.
‘You look like the wreck of the ’Esperus, love. You’re fretting about going to court, ain’t you?’
With a grimace Phoebe nodded. ‘It’s keeping me awake at nights. He’ll be there, Marj, listening to every word. What if he escapes again? He’ll come after me!’
‘No, come on, love. Don’t you think the police, knowing ’e did a runner before, will take the necessary steps to be sure ’e doesn’t get the chance. Nah! They’ll be sure ’e can’t escape again. There’ll be a policeman standing in the dock, keeping a close eye on ’im.’
‘I have the same nightmare every night, Marj. Percy’s chasing me down the street and I’m screaming for help … and there’s nobody there!’
Her friend put her arms around Phoebe and patted her on the back as you would a small child. ‘Now then, now then! It’s just nerves, darlin’. You’ll be fine. For God’s sake, Phoebe, think what you’ve been through. You lose your dad, you take over the stall, you carry on looking after Tim when your poor mum died. You became ’is parents as well as ’is sister. You are a strong woman! Percy Stanley is just dirt under your shoe! You are in a position to put him away and probably save some other poor bugger from a similar end.’
Phoebe hugged her friend. ‘Oh Marj! What would I do without you?’
‘Damned if I know!’ She walked back to her stall, chuckling softly.
Preparing the supper, Phoebe tried to be cheerful for Tim’s sake. He was not aware that she’d seen the murder take place and she wanted to keep that fact away from him as long as possible. If he knew, he’d question her about it and it was the last thing she wanted to talk about and secondly, she didn’t want him worried.
Ben soon arrived and joined them for a meal. They kept the conversation light until Tim had done his homework and was safely in his bed. It was only then they discussed what was ahead.
‘The trial shouldn’t take that long,’ Ben explained. ‘After all there is only your evidence. The coroner’s report, then mine about being undercover and seeing the outside of the lock-up cleaned around the time we imagine the murder took place, which ties in with what you saw. But it’s your testimony that will put him away.’
‘But you said I’d be cross-questioned.’
‘Yes, you will. Stanley will be given a solicitor to fight his case. He’ll try and prove his client’s innocence. It’s what he’s paid to do.’
‘But to do that he’d have to make me out to be a liar!’
‘He’ll certainly try and trip you up, but if you just answer his questions and stick to the truth, you’ll be fine. You just need to keep your head and not get flustered.’
‘And Percy will be there listening to it all!’
‘Yes, Phoebe, he’ll be sitting in the dock with a policeman guarding him. Don’t ever look at him. Keep your eyes fixed firmly on whoever is asking the questions. If you look at Percy, he’ll do his best to distract and intimidate you, hoping you’ll make a mistake.’
Letting out a deep sigh she looked crestfallen. ‘All that’s bad enough but after it’ll be worse. It will be in all the papers, everybody will know. Poor Tim will be teased at school again. It was bad enough when Mum died, but this will be worse because it’ll be a sensation.’
‘I’ve thought about that. When the case is over, I’m taking some leave and we’ll go off to Gloucester and stay with my parents for a week. You’ll need a break and I’ll have a word with Tim’s headmaster, who’s a very understanding man, and we will leave it all behind. We can make plans for the wedding. The sooner we get married the better, then we can all three of us start a new life together.’
Phoebe gazed at him. ‘Oh, Ben, I do love you! Especially when you say the three of us.’
He looked at her with surprise. ‘But it is the three of us!’
‘I know, but it’s wonderful that you think that way, a lot of men wouldn’t.’
‘Then they’d be wrong. We are already a family and in time we’ll have children of our own – and Tim will be an uncle. He’ll love that! We’ll move to a bigger flat and eventually our own home. You won’t have to work in the market any more; you’ll be too busy looking after the men in your life.’
She looked concerned. ‘Can you afford to keep us without my money coming in?’
Ben started to laugh. ‘I can see you’ll be a good housekeeper, Phoebe. Yes, darling, I can afford to keep you and Tim, otherwise I wouldn’t have proposed to you.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I have to go, I’
m on an early shift. It’s one thing you’ll have to get used to, I’m afraid. I don’t work business hours and, if we have a case, I could be away for a few days sometimes.’
‘That’s all right, I’ll have Tim to keep me company.’
‘There you are! Whoever was stupid enough to say that three’s a crowd?’ Getting to his feet, he pulled her into his arms. ‘Try not to worry, darling. It won’t be long when all this unpleasantness will be a seven-day wonder and we can get on with our lives.’
‘I can’t wait,’ she said as she walked him to the door.
The day of the trial drew nearer. Phoebe had an appointment with Edward Phillips, the solicitor, who informed her he’d be helping a barrister called James Harding, who was prosecuting the case, then they went through her evidence together.
‘When he questions you, Miss Collins, I want you to give him a precise answer. Don’t add anything else. The same thing goes when the defence questions you. Just answer the question. If you don’t know, say so, don’t try and make excuses as to why you don’t know. Counsel will lead you when he questions you, so you know exactly what he’s asking. You just give him an answer and no more, unless he asks. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, it sounds so easy sitting here talking to you, but I dread going into the court and taking the stand.’
He smiled at her. ‘I do it all the time. It’s my Kingsland Market, I suppose! But for you and others it can be a bit intimidating. Just think of it as a rather grand room where business is being conducted. Yes, there is a sort of theatrical feel with the barristers wearing wigs and the judge in his rather splendid wig and robes, but we are all there to see justice served, that’s the most important thing. This man has killed someone in cold blood. He already has a record for violence and has served time for that. He’s a danger to the public and must be put away. Thankfully, you were witness to the unspeakable deed. Sadly, Arthur Stanley met an unsavoury end all through his brother, so that’s another murder he was the cause of, but because of this Arthur can’t be there to tell his story himself. Unfortunate for you, but fortunate for the law – you can. Do you realise how important your evidence is?’
‘Yes, I do, I really do. I just don’t want to mess it up.’
‘Having spent some time with you, Miss Collins, I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Once you’re led to the stand and take the oath, take a deep breath, it will help to calm you. Please don’t worry, we’re there to take care of you. You must trust us.’
Phoebe smiled at him. ‘I do, I promise.’
He rose to his feet and shook her hand. ‘Good! I’ll see you in court.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The day of the trial arrived. Phoebe arranged for her neighbour to look after Tim when he came home from school. She told him she had an appointment, but didn’t tell him for what reason, and then she met Ben at the train station so they could travel together to Winchester assizes.
It was a brisk September day and Phoebe felt cold, but she knew it was more through nerves than the chill of autumn. They didn’t chat a lot as they travelled, until they arrived at the court house. There the solicitor was waiting. He introduced her to James Harding.
Phoebe had forgotten they’d be dressed in wigs and gowns and for a moment was taken aback by the change. It only made her realise even more the importance of the occasion. They sat outside the courtroom where they would be called to give their evidence. Ben held her hand as James Harding sat beside them.
‘I know this is an ordeal for you, Miss Collins, but you’ll be fine and today we will see justice served. You were brave to keep this all to yourself for so long, seeing Stanley in the market every day, knowing what he’d done, that took great courage. I need you to be as strong today. Remember what you’ve been told about just answering the questions put to you and no more?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Good. Now as you know, Stanley will be in the dock watching. Just forget he’s there. Don’t even glance in his direction. Just look at the person in front of you asking the questions. All right?’
‘All right.’
‘Remember, after taking the oath, take a deep breath and we’ll begin.’ He grinned at her. ‘After this is all over, I’ll take you both out for a couple of stiff drinks!’
This was so unexpected, Phoebe laughed. ‘We’ll probably all need a drink by then.’
James got to his feet. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Ben put his arm round Phoebe. ‘The worst will soon be over, darling. Then we can get on with our lives.’
‘I know, but I can’t help being nervous.’
‘That’s understandable. Appearing in court for any reason is a bit daunting. But I don’t see it lasting more than a few days.’
‘A few days?’ She was shocked. ‘I thought it would be all over by this afternoon!’
‘I’m afraid the law takes a little longer than that on a murder case. Yes, if you were being fined for some piffling misdemeanour, but not murder.’
‘No, I suppose that was rather stupid of me. I could only think about getting it over.’
‘You’ll only be called once, but before that others will have to give evidence. Indeed, you may have to wait until tomorrow, it all depends.’
She let out a deep sigh. ‘I could do with one of those drinks now!’
There was a frisson of excitement inside the courtroom. A murder trial was serious. The press were there in force and the public gallery was full. Everyone stared with interest as Percy was led up some stairs and into the dock. Their expectation heightened as the jury was led in to take their places. Percy glared at them as they settled. Then the door at the side opened.
The voice of the clerk of the court echoed as the judge walked in. ‘All stand!’
The judge took his seat, sorted his papers and waited as Percy was asked if he pleaded guilty or not guilty.
‘Not guilty!’ he proclaimed.
Looking at both barristers, the judge nodded. ‘Shall we begin, gentlemen?’ It was an order rather than a question.
James Hardy rose from his seat and approached the jury.
‘Gentlemen, we are here today to see justice done. The prisoner, Percy Stanley, is charged with the murder of one Frank Clarke. During an altercation, Stanley produced a knife and stabbed him in cold blood. After, to cover his crime, he and his brother hid the body in a local cemetery and carried on with their daily lives. He’s not shown a shred of remorse for this heinous crime and I believe he should pay the price for taking this man’s life.’ He walked back to his seat and sat down.
The counsel for the defence approached the jury.
‘Gentlemen, what my learned friend has told you is partly the truth. Percy Stanley did indeed stab Frank Clarke, but it was purely in self-defence. He was in fear for his life and as a last resort he used the only thing that would save him. This was not done in anger, but only for survival. After, he panicked and hid the body in the belief that no one would believe it was an accident. This man is no murderer; he’s only in the dock for trying to defend himself.’
He turned and walked back to his seat.
James Hardy stood. ‘I’d like to call my first witness, Mr Charles Gates.’
A voice could be heard at the door of the court. ‘Charles Gates!’
Into the court walked a middle-aged gentleman in a smart grey suit with spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He walked to the witness box and took the oath.
Hardy approached him. ‘You are Charles Gates, the coroner?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘You examined the body of Frank Clarke on March 24th of this year?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Will you please tell the court your findings?’
The coroner went on to explain that the body had decomposed after being left in the cemetery for several weeks and gave more detail about the state of the body but then said that he’d found the cause of death to be a stab wound to the heart that had been fatal.
The counsel for the defence rose to his feet.
‘Mr Gates, I realise that the state of the body made your job more difficult, but could you say if this man could have been strong enough to put up a good fight, had he needed to?’
Gates peered over his glasses. ‘He was well built and in his forties. But that’s as far as I could possibly deduce.’
‘Thank you, sir. No further questions.’
Mr Gates left the witness box.
Then Ben was called. He stood in the witness box, took the oath and waited.
Hardy walked up to him. ‘You are Detective Benjamin Masters.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Will you tell the court what you were doing working as a stallholder in Kingsland Market.’
‘I was there to observe the two Stanley brothers, who were under suspicion for burglary. I was watching their every move, looking for anything suspicious.’
‘Working undercover, is that right?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you notice anything suspicious after the day of the murder?’
‘Yes, I did. The two brothers were on edge. They argued, which wasn’t unusual, but this time it was different. Young Arthur looked decidedly nervous and jumpy and this angered Percy. But this time, they were arguing quietly and there was a sense of urgency about their exchange. But what made it even stranger was that Miss Phoebe Collins, who was another stallholder, was also behaving differently. She too was on edge and somehow I felt that it had something to do with the brothers.’
‘Did you have any evidence of this?’
‘No, sir. Just a gut feeling. But after the market closed and everybody had gone home, I went back to check on the Stanleys’ lock-up. I discovered remains of damp sand on the ground in front of it, which was strange. Then I realised that, only outside the lock-up, the ground had been carefully cleaned. I couldn’t imagine why, until it was discovered that a murder had taken place and it all made sense. If the murder had been committed in front of their lock-up, there would have been a loss of blood from the victim, which would have had to be cleaned up. Sand would absorb it, then it could be washed away.’