Judge Savage

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Judge Savage Page 33

by Tim Parks


  Naked, Judge Savage now felt ridiculous. You’re lying, he told her. He looked around for his pants. I’m not going to insist, but you’re lying. You know you are, you said as much at the funeral. Why did you tell Sarah? he asked. She sat forward and put her hand on his shoulder. Can’t we just forget all this ugliness and have a lovely kiss. Again, he obliged. They began to kiss. She kissed with great softness now, but very wilfully. She is making her mouth melt, he thought. Breaking off a moment, she said, what lovely, lovely skin you have Daniel Savage, you are so dark and so sexy! She shivered, theatrically, and now was kissing him again. Often, he knew, you had to go through all kinds of trials before you could actually have a woman. But when his hand found its way between her thighs, she tightened. To his great surprise it seemed she was completely shaven. She pushed him away and jumped up off the bed. Tea! she announced. Oh I must look awful. I’m all mussed, aren’t I. Milk? Sugar? I need a shower. Coming back with a tray, she said: Dan, the truth is I don’t have sex with strangers. And least of all with little boys. She smiled, Not to worry, there are always the twenty-year-old Asian chicks. I thought it was in pretty bad taste by the way introducing the child to Sarah. He was dressing rapidly now and started to pull his socks on. Oh don’t go, Dan, she said, let’s have some tea and chat a bit. Then his mind clouded. He stood up and smashed the tea tray from her hands. Bitch! he shouted. She screamed. She was scalded. She kept screaming, crouching over her knees. Daniel was scared he had hurt her. Get in the shower, get in the shower. He pulled her up and hurried to the bathroom, turned the water on. Get in. Now she was in the shower with her underwear on, shivering, directing the cold jet at the top of her leg. Is that better. Yes, she said. She sighed. He stood there in his old bathroom. Nothing had changed here. You must forgive me Dan, she laughed nervously – no, it’s not that bad, I’m just not used to these things. You know. I’ve never done them. Poor Martin, she began to cry under the cold water. I’m sorry, he said. Are you okay? With another change of tone she asked, Why don’t you get in the shower. She turned on the hot tap. What? Come in, the water’s lovely. She stretched her arms out. Again he complied. He took his clothes off. She kept her underwear on. In his ear she whispered: It was you asked to stay the night! She took his sex in her hand. Tell me about all the women you’ve ever had, she said. Tell me. Tell me. While she was towelling herself dry, she said: about Sarah, I don’t know why I told the girl, I just did. I’m sorry, but I’m like that. You can’t trust me. On leaving in the early morning he knew he had never felt so humiliated.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  MISS CRAWLEY, YESTERDAY you described how Mr Sayle threw a stone onto the ring road from the bridge, a stone that hit a car travelling toward the bridge and caused the crash that led to this trial, is that right? The girl said yes. The public gallery was packed with angry faces: Sayle’s relatives, and Grier’s. The defendants too looked intent, possibly belligerent. The jury were all on the alert after yesterday’s excitement. Two or three listened with pencils in their hands.

  You claimed – Sedley consulted a piece of paper covered with tiny writing, he adjusted his spectacles – that the stone was thrown as a result of an argument between Mr Sayle and Mr Grier over their relationships with Miss Singleton. Is that correct?

  Yes.

  You said that Mr Sayle appeared to be about to use the stone to attack Mr Grier, but then tossed it instead out onto the road when Miss Singleton begged him to stop. Have I got that right?

  Yes.

  Sedley lowered his papers and stared at the girl. Had he too, Daniel wondered, been up all night. The barrister had bags under weak eyes. Again he adjusted his spectacles.

  Where did Mr Sayle find the stone, Miss Crawley?

  The girl appeared to think.

  Dunno.

  Can you tell me where each member of the group was at the moment the stone was thrown?

  David and Jamie was right there, right by the parapet like.

  That is Mr Sayle and Mr Grier.

  Right. Sasha, Singleton, was right near them, behind Dave. Sayle. Me and Mr Simmons was walking back onto the bridge to say we was off.

  You were approaching from the town side of Malding Lane.

  Don’t get you.

  As if you were coming from town.

  Yeah.

  So how far were you from the incident.

  Dunno. Maybe here to that wall.

  Miss Crawley, Judge Savage interrupted, since your evidence is being recorded, could you please give approximate distances, rather than referring to the size of this room, which will mean nothing to those listening to the tape away from here. To help you, I should say that the length of this room would be about ten yards.

  The girl frowned. Okay then, ten yards.

  Ten yards, Sedley repeated. And you say that immediately before the fatal accident you heard Mr Grier say, and I quote your words of yesterday: I won’t stop throwing stones till Sasha admits how much she likes sucking my dick.

  The words sounded wonderfully incongruous in Sedley’s dry lips. No one smiled.

  Right. I don’t know if those was the very exact words, but more or less.

  Miss Crawley, the ring road is a busy road, is it not?

  Yes, sir.

  It was the first time she had called him sir. Sedley let it ride.

  And a busy road makes a lot of noise.

  Right, it’s noisy. There’s a sort of roar.

  A sort of roar, Sedley repeated. And yet, over ten yards distance, and above that roar, you were able to hear what Mr Grier said to Mr Sayle.

  The girl took a deep breath, but didn’t reply.

  Miss Crawley you might imagine that as counsel for the prosecution I would be grateful to hear from a defendant that another defendant had committed the crime, but I must now put it to you that your testimony is riddled with inconsistencies, many of which I suspect are the result of your lying. Is that the case?

  The court waited.

  Is what sorry?

  Sedley asked: Miss Crawley, you have said that the first interview you gave to the police, in which you described Mr Sayle as throwing the stone under very different circumstances, was full of untruths.

  Yes, she said. Like I said, I was put under pressure.

  Sedley took a breath: Do you feel you are under pressure now?

  Yes, I suppose so. In court and everything.

  Am I to assume, then, that you are telling untruths again?

  You can think what you like, she said quickly, you weren’t there.

  Miss Crawley, are you going to insist that you could hear what Mr Grier said to Mr Sayle from ten yards away on a bridge over a busy road?

  Maybe I was nearer, she said. I can’t remember.

  Judge Savage began to lose patience. Miss Crawley, this question of distance is important. You are under oath to tell the whole truth.

  I need a rest, the girl said flatly. I got a headache. I can’t concentrate. Or I’ll faint or something.

  Judge Savage adjourned. How are you? he asked. He had dialled the number on impulse. Okay, Hilary said. Sarah said you were depressed. I’m not jumping for joy. Sarah sounded in good spirits, he tried. She’s been a great help. So, you’re getting on together? Daniel asked. We always got on, his wife replied. Well, I’m glad. She even said she’d got a boyfriend. This caused a short pause. First I’ve heard of it, Hilary told him. Oh, well that’s what she told me. Did she indeed, and you believed her? Why shouldn’t I, he asked. Who is it then? Hilary said. She wouldn’t say who it was. I bet she didn’t. Daniel stopped. And how’s Tom? Tom is upset, she said. At once he sensed that her voice was franker. What’s up? he asked. She lost her temper: What do you mean, what’s up, don’t be so stupid, what’s up is his Dad’s not here. He doesn’t talk. He’s in front of the TV all day. Can I see him? Who’s stopping you? I’ll call this evening, he said. Call when you want. Hilary, he tried, I didn’t want this, even now I . . . Well, you’ve got it, she said. The conversation was completely d
ifferent from those he had had from the phones of the Cambridge Hotel. He waited a moment. Look, I miss you all. He knew he was being honest. Hilary I love you. Is there no way . . . What does it mean, I love you? she demanded. What does it mean? Come on, tell me what it means to say that. He thought, I mustn’t give a stupid sentimental answer. It means, he said, he hesitated, it means that I only made sense to myself as a person when I was with you. I don’t know if . . . When you were with me you were betraying me, that’s a lot of sense. But Hilary, I said all that was over, it was a sort of weird phase, sometimes I think it had to do with Dad’s dying and . . . You were with Christine last night! his wife shrieked. Who told you? Christine, she’s here now. Then Daniel said: Christine is the person who’s been talking to the press, Hilary. She’s poison. And every word she told them, his wife said, is true!

  Hilary had slammed the phone down. Daniel called straight back. When my mind engages with my family, he thought, I can’t leave well alone. No it isn’t true, he said, as soon as she picked up. Dan, for God’s sake! What she told them isn’t true, Hilary. Daniel, I don’t care . . . You know why I went to see her last night? His wife answered promptly, To go to bed with her. Did she tell you that? She did indeed. How ridiculous, he said. You do seem to have a track record. He knew she was acting this sarcasm from things she had seen in films. He said: It’s ridiculous because anyone can see that Christine is incapable of going to bed with anyone. Her femininity ends with her perfume and frilly dresses. Can’t you see that. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never had sex with Martin at all. She’s not a flesh and blood woman like you are, she’s a nutcase! He knew his wife wanted to hear this. Your difficulty was juggling career and babies. She didn’t have either. She’s a complete nothing, and a lunatic too. That’s probably why Martin got so depressed, he hazarded. She wouldn’t fuck.

  Hilary lowered her voice. He sensed she was walking somewhere with the cordless phone. From what she’s been telling me, she said softly, the real lunatic was Martin. You should have heard the stuff that came out.

  Judge Savage sensed the possibility of complicity. Their marriage had always been strongest when criticising those they knew. He said: Okay, so let me tell you why I went to see her last night. There was silence at the other end of the line, but not refusal. I told her something that wasn’t true, deliberately, to see if it would get in the papers. I told her I’d had a fling with . . . He named a famous television presenter. A news anchor woman, no less.

  Suddenly his wife was laughing hysterically. It was disquieting, but Judge Savage went on talking. I said we’d met in London when she was reporting on some conference and I’d invited her up to my room. You always said you fancied her, Hilary said. Suddenly she seemed light-hearted. Daniel couldn’t remember saying anything of the kind. Anyway, I gave her the story so that if it goes in the papers, we’ll know where it came from, and there’ll be such fierce denials all round, won’t there? You can’t imagine someone with that public profile accepting such a rumour, and then maybe people will begin to see that all this news is bullshit. His wife said: To date, all the stories in the paper have been true, Dan. With sudden weariness she said: I’ll tell Tom you’ll call him this evening.

  He had adjourned for fifteen minutes. Now he called Mattheson and waited till the man got off another line. I know who’s been talking to the press, he said. Oh yes? The policeman listened but seemed sceptical. Well, we’ll see if the story comes up, but I doubt if the paper would have the courage to publish a name like that, the libel tab would be enormous. Daniel felt foolish for not having thought of this. He was a judge and he hadn’t thought of the legal consequences. He asked what had happened to the suspect, Craig whatever-his-name-was. We’ve released him for the moment, Mattheson said. Clearly he didn’t want to talk. Daniel couldn’t understand whether he was dealing with an institutional procedure or a man with an agenda all his own. The only thing I’d say, Dan, Mattheson was now signing off, is keep away from the Korean ticket. Why do you say that? Just a word of warning, the policeman said. He chuckled. Come to think about it, the less we talk, and the less you talk about it, the better. Especially as, for the moment you seem to be getting away with it all famously. You don’t see my mailbag, Daniel said.

  Then he was Judge Savage again. He put on his wig. The usher knocked three times on the heavy door. The court rose, he took his seat, the court sat. Miss Crawley stood and came to the box. Okay I was right near, she said at once. She was trembling. Judge Savage now had no difficulty concentrating. The truth is, about the stones, that David, Mr Sayle, had this thing they would only hit someone if God meant them to hit. There was an uproar. Judge Savage ordered that two members of the public be removed. The defendants were silent. They weren’t exchanging glances. Four prison officers now sat with them in the dock. Yes, Janet Crawley admitted, we all knew stones would get thrown one way or another when we were at the bridge. Even if it was only one on an evening. It was a sort of thing between Mr Sayle and Mr Grier. It sort of wound the evening up. I don’t know. It was a thing they had.

  Sedley stood watching. Are you returning to the version you gave in your initial interview with the police, Miss Crawley? The lawyer was taking great care, Daniel thought, to be neutral. He just wants to keep this flow going. With her hard pretty face, brash eyes, tight lips, the girl seemed the least likely candidate to break. Had the group stayed compact, Judge Savage was sure, a conviction was unlikely. There had been room for reasonable doubt. Sedley started to take her through it again. On how many previous occasions had stones been thrown and who threw them, who brought them to the bridge? Why does the truth out? Daniel wondered. And why does it out when it does? Loads of times, the girl said. Please try to be more specific, Sedley asked. You should have heard the stuff that came out, Hilary had said. Grier was just wild, Janet Crawley was saying, her voice had taken on a low, trance-like tone. David said the stones would only hurt people if they weren’t pure because in the end everybody only got what they deserved in this world. No sooner was the girl out of the box than her counsel asked for an adjournment, no doubt to reconsider her position. But when the court was reassembled he did not ask for the indictment to be read out again. Her plea of not guilty remained.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHLOE CUMMINGS, THE TV presenter, was not mentioned in the papers, except with regard to the ongoing story of her sick child by a previous marriage. The boy was dying of leukaemia. On Saturday morning Daniel took his own son to play football in an outlying suburb south of the town, then drove him to Doherty Street market. The match was exciting. The boys were fourteen now and many full grown. The autumn air was full of memories We go up in a line or not at all, a big black defender kept shouting. In a fucking line! Tom lurked between bigger feet. Very occasionally he broke free on his own, shoving with his elbows. Bastard, he cried and right after half-time shot home a loosely cleared ball. He raised his arms, he was mobbed by his team-mates. The yellow-and-black shirts mingled, the black boys and the white and one Asian. Daniel watched in the cool September air.

  Just beyond the pitch old men leaned on the parapets of the walkways round their flats. Sperringway again. And later, driving Tom back to town, without expecting it or choosing his route on purpose, Judge Savage caught a glimpse of the improbable Sue in her lay-by. She was leaning against the side of a van, talking to a driver. I belong here, Daniel thought, smiling. I am a citizen of this town, inside and out.

  But now Tom was demanding a trip to McDonald’s. If I got a shake for every goal I scored, he boasted, you’d be broke. Daniel parked the car. Mum said you were depressed, he told his son over the tabletop. The boy raised his eyes, chewing. He was lighter skinned than Daniel or Sarah, but with the same black eyes. Now they seemed clear of any pain. They shone with youth. No time to be depressed with all the homework they’re giving us, he grumbled. We’re training three times a week now. Great, Daniel said. The games master was saying there’ll be scouts round looking at us this year, from the big you
th teams. Great, Daniel repeated. Sarah? he asked. God what a pain! Tom shouted, his mouth full. For days, nothing but chat chat chat with Mum, you know – he made a quacking gesture with one hand – like it would never end. Chat chat chat. Only now she’s out most of the time, thank God. Never at home.

  Perhaps she’s got a boyfriend, Daniel said lightly. It was nice to be with his son; with Tom his father’s role seemed so obvious, something that was not the case with Sarah. Boyfriend! That’ll be the day, the boy laughed. A boyfriend, Sarah! Then even more emphatically, That will be the day, alrightie-oh! He punched one fist in the air, gripping the remainder of his burger in the other. His voice was gratingly loud.

  But why shouldn’t she get a boyfriend? She’s pretty. Oh yuck, Tom said. Tom, don’t be so childish, she’s lovely. No she isn’t, he insisted. Tom, she is, take it from me! Tom sneered: It’s just that you’re old Dad, you’d make do with anything. Daniel stared at the boy, but he was munching away quite candidly, as though there were nothing offensive in what he’d said. The judge made a gesture with his head. There were three girls sitting at the table to his left. Do you think she’s pretty, he asked. Tom chewed. Comically, he shifted his eyes without turning his face, frowned. Then rocking back and forth he sang: All right in a kind of a limited way for an off-night!

  He giggled. The beautiful girl raised her head. I see beauty everywhere, Daniel thought. Don’t show-off, Tom, he said. Chewing the last mouthful, wiping his hands under his armpits, the boy defended himself: Anyway, Mum’s always saying she never will. What? That Sarah will never get a boyfriend. Mum says that? Yes. No she doesn’t. But she does, Dad! But why? Daniel asked. Tom wiped his mouth, laughed. Dunno!

  Stirring his shake, the boy went on: Oh, one piece of good news though. Mum said I could stop piano. Oh really, and what’s good about that, I thought you liked it. Dad, come on! Where have you been! Again Judge Savage had the feeling he was trying to penetrate an enchanted thicket. They can’t cut you out though, it suddenly crossed his mind, because you are part of the tangle. What on earth do I want to go to the market for, Tom was complaining. I’ll get you a sheath knife, Daniel tried. There’s always someone selling second hand stuff like that. Dad, I only gave up with sheath knives about three-and-a-half centuries ago. As it turned out there was more than one stall selling used computer games.

 

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