‘It was good of you to accept the brief,’ said Pepper, blandly but he meant what he said.
‘Well, if we get a result, the publicity won’t do any of us any harm, eh, Flis? I take it you’ve put in for silk this time?’
Felicity Garrard smiled. ‘You might think that, but I don’t suppose I should comment. Not before Maundy Thursday.’
Further conversation ceased as a woman prison officer opened the door without knocking and ushered Julia Hamilton into the room.
‘How long d’ya think you’ll be?’ she asked, casually. ‘Tea time is five o’clock, and we don’t want Hamilton missing out. She could do with building up.’ She gave Julia a sarcastic grin.
Everdene and Pepper stood up. Garrard was already on her feet.
‘We’ll be as long as I see fit,’ replied Everdene, firmly.
The warder looked him over and half-smiled.
‘I’ll be back at five to five.’
She then departed, closing the door noisily behind her.
‘Good God,’ said Everdene, ‘is that an example of the attitude in here? This place should be closed down. It’s a disgrace!’
‘It’s not that bad,’ said Julia Hamilton without emotion, ‘once you get used to it. You can get used to anything – in time.’
Everdene shook his head then introduced himself and Felicity Garrard. ‘Of course, you already know Mr. Pepper?’
Julia nodded. She shook Everdene’s hand. He noted how cold it felt despite the stuffy and overheated conditions in the prison. She was wearing a simple cream coloured dress and a matching cardigan. Her legs were bare and she wore sandals on her feet. As a remand prisoner, she was permitted to wear her own clothes, as were most of the inmates in the mother and baby unit. Her blonde hair was tied back and she wore no make-up or jewellery, but Everdene was nevertheless quite taken aback by her beauty. Her deep blue eyes seemed to bore into his very soul. He was momentarily quite enchanted by her. But he quickly resumed his usual persona and smiled as he pointed to the chair where she was to sit. As she walked around the table and took her seat, he noticed she looked tired and wearisome. Not the determined and alert woman he had anticipated. She appeared, at least, to have fully recovered from giving birth. Her figure had been restored, as a result of regular visits to the gym, but she seemed uninterested as he opened the papers that Felicity Garrard had carefully laid out on the table. She looked about her and seemed unable to settle.
‘It would seem we have only forty-five minutes,’ said leading counsel, looking at his watch. ‘So I propose to deal with the question of the telephone call it is suggested you made to this man Grayling on the twelfth of March. Before you say anything, I should point out that it may be possible to persuade the judge to keep it out. We have a pretty good argument as to admissibility that we can put forward.’
Julia hardly reacted. She looked at Felicity Garrard and then at Giles Pepper before she spoke.
‘I wouldn’t know about that. All I can say is that I did not make that call. It must have been someone else. And as I understand it, the expert instructed by the CPS can’t say it was me.’
Her tone was flat and distant. She hardly seemed to care.
‘That’s certainly true,’ interrupted the solicitor, concerned at his client’s apparent lack of attentiveness. ‘You’ve seen the expert’s report I take it Mr Everdene?’
‘I have. I agree it’s not conclusive, but the surrounding circumstances also support the prosecution case.’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Julia. She knew exactly what he meant but it didn’t suit her to reveal as much.
‘The fact that the call was made shortly before your appointment at the hair salon, for one. And I believe Mr. Savage has confirmed he dropped you off there. He can’t be precise about the time, and he can’t say he saw you go immediately into the salon. He drove off as soon as you alighted from his BMW.’
Julia nodded. ‘I suppose I did wait a few seconds before I went in. I watched him drive towards Ratcliffe Road. I told him he could re-join the A46 south by turning right and going through the next village. He was heading to his hotel in Leicester where he was staying overnight after the Law Society dinner. There was no way I would have allowed him to stay with me!’
‘The next village would be Ratcliffe on the Wreake, I take it?’
‘Yes. If you turn right after you’ve gone past the salon and the Blue Lion pub and drive about a mile on through Ratcliffe, then turn right, the A46 is only three hundred metres away. Mr. Savage was not familiar with the area any more than he was familiar with me.’
Julia stared at Everdene, a look of derision on her face. Then she looked away. Everdene glanced down at his papers. This was not going to be an easy consultation. He fully appreciated that his client would have to perform wonders in the witness box if she were to have any chance of an acquittal. The jury might well regard her seeming indifference as indicating guilt. He decided to liven things up. Defendants usually reacted with a bit of spirit if they thought their own counsel questioned their account of matters. Everdene raised his voice slightly.
‘If it were not you making this call, it’s a remarkable co-incidence, is it not? It means someone must have been in the phone box about the time you went into the salon?’
Julia immediately became more animated. ‘Perhaps someone was trying to set me up? These people Michael Doyle seems to have got involved with might well have wanted to set both of us up.’
‘Both of you?’
‘Of course. I believe the CPS already accepts that the whole thing was intended to make it look like Doyle was the instigator. But he was never charged with the conspiracy. If they were happy to set him up, it’s not stretching things too far to suppose that I would be included as well. All I can tell you Mr Everdene, is that it was not me. I did not make that call.’
She spoke firmly and seemed well satisfied with her answer. Everdene, too, was pleased. His tactic seemed to be working.
‘Did you see anyone in the phone box before you went into the salon?’
‘No. I didn’t look. Why should I have done? I don’t even think that it’s visible from the door of the salon.’
‘I’m not sure that’s right,’ interrupted the solicitor. ‘If you look at the plan I prepared – it’s behind tab seventeen.’
Everdene turned over the pages until he found the sketch. ‘As you can see,’ added the solicitor, ‘there is a clear sight-line from the door of the salon. I’ve checked it for myself. The plan is accurate.’
‘Well, I didn’t look,’ said Julia. ‘For all I know there could have been a vehicle parked by the green that obstructed my view. The parking in the village is terrible.’
Everdene did not pursue the matter further.
‘Who knew you had a hair appointment that afternoon?’
‘My mother, Bill Savage, the salon, I don’t know. I wasn’t keeping it secret.’
‘If someone was setting you up, they’d have to know you had a hair appointment, wouldn’t they?’
‘I don’t see why. I was intending to stay in Thrussington for the week-end with my mother. Presumably the call could have been made at any time, if the intention was to implicate me?’
Everdene decided to move on. He couldn’t refute her logic. ‘And you did not go to Hastings on the sixteenth?
‘No I did not.’
‘Have you ever been to Hastings?’
‘Never. The sixteenth was the day I went to London and had dinner with Bill Savage. He’d invited me the previous Friday. I went down to London on the afternoon train from Leicester. I was nowhere near Hastings.’
She glanced towards Giles Pepper. ‘Did you get the information from my credit card?’
Pepper nodded. ‘Yes. Its behind tab seven, the blue one.’
Everdene scrutinised Julia’s American Express card bill for Mar
ch 1999. It showed a first class return ticket had been booked on 15 March for the 15.35 train on 16 March from Leicester to London St Pancras.
‘And you took that train?’
‘I did – so it follows that it wasn’t me who met with Grayling or anyone else in Hastings at 2pm. As far as I’m concerned there was no such meeting.’
‘Have we tried to check the CCTV from either station?’ Everdene looked at Giles Pepper. The solicitor glanced at his file.
‘CPS says it no longer exists. Hardly surprising. It’s nearly a year ago. But I have a statement from Mr. Savage. He confirms that he drove Julia to St Pancras after they’d had dinner at an Italian restaurant, just off Bedford Row. Julia caught the eleven twenty-five. It was the last train back to Leicester.’
‘Yes,’ said Julia, ruefully. ‘It stopped virtually everywhere. Over two and a half hours it took. There was a problem at Bedford as I recall. The driver became ill and we had to wait over thirty minutes for a replacement.’
Giles Pepper nodded vigorously. ‘That’s also been confirmed. There’s a letter from Midland Main line behind tab eight. The driver had to be taken to hospital, it seems. So Julia just had to be on the train or she wouldn’t know about this.’
Everdene smiled.
‘I don’t think the Crown will dispute she was on that train. No incident of note on the way to London, I suppose? That’s much more important.’
‘No,’ replied Julia. ‘Although I do believe we were about eleven minutes late.’
‘That’s also confirmed,’ added Giles Pepper. ‘Behind tab nine.’
‘But that information would be available in the local paper wouldn’t it?’
‘What if it was? Who reads something like that? It’s hardly front page news!’
Giles Pepper intervened.
‘I found a brief report in the Leicester Mercury. There were a lot of complaints about late running of trains last year. One of their journalists did an article about it. There’s a copy behind tab ten.’
‘You have been efficient, Mr Pepper. Tell me, did you check the options for travelling from Hastings to London in time for the restaurant appointment?’
‘I haven’t got it confirmed in writing yet, but I have done the basic research. It would be possible to take one of four trains after three o’clock and get to London in good time to arrive at the restaurant by eight pm. The journey time is around one hundred minutes – that’s an hour and forty minutes. There were no problems with the trains that day.’
‘And by road?’
‘Not to be advised. It’s about seventy-five miles, but there was a major accident on the M25 that afternoon. There was a huge hold up. Twelve miles of traffic, assuming one took the direct route recommended by the AA.’
‘Is there an alternative? ‘
‘There’s the country route, I suppose. But you’d have to know where you were going and it would take forever, as far as I can see.’
Julia interrupted. ‘Whatever the best route is, I didn’t take it. I travelled from Leicester on the train. Surely my American Express bill is sufficient proof?’
‘It certainly doesn’t harm us,’ replied Everdene. ‘What did you do in London after you arrived? Even if the train was a bit late, you’d have quite a bit of time to kill?’
‘No more than a couple of hours. I was at the restaurant by about seven forty-five. As I recall, I took a cab to Trafalgar Square from St Pancras and spent over an hour in the National Portrait Gallery. There was a Holbein exhibition on. I have the brochure somewhere, unless the police have seized it.’
‘I’ll look into that,’ said the solicitor.
‘Then you went to the restaurant?’
‘Yes. I had a coffee in that new Starbucks nearby and then took a cab to Bedford Row. The restaurant is in an adjacent street.’
‘Red Lion Street is where it is. It’s a very good restaurant,’ added Giles Pepper. ‘Italian, you know.’
‘I don’t know it,’ said Everdene. ‘But I’ll take your word for it.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Could I ask you about your relationship with Mr Savage. I don’t want to appear intrusive, but I anticipate you’ll be cross-examined about it, assuming you’re prepared to give evidence?’
Julia was not in the least put out. She had put her initial attitude well behind her. She was now fully focused and deadly serious.
‘What would you like to know?’
‘Well, as I understand it, you had known him a few years back?’
Julia laughed.
‘You mean in the carnal sense? Well, I suppose I did, brief though it was. I was very young and I suppose I was easily impressed. My head was quickly turned in those days and Savage was very good looking. We spent a week-end in Brighton. A disastrous week-end in fact. Savage had a bit of a drink problem. He drank far too much champagne and behaved quite abominably. He was, how shall I put it, very physically demanding. I vowed I would never see him again.’
‘But you obviously did?’
‘I saw him professionally, of course. There was nothing I could do about that. But I had nothing to do with him for several years socially. He was always apologising to me – he blamed the drink for his behaviour – but I declined all further invitations until last March.’
‘What changed?’
Julia did not reply immediately. She took time to compose what she wished to say.
‘He did.’
She paused again.
‘And I suppose it was really the predicament I found myself in. As you probably know, last February I discovered I was pregnant. I knew Michael Doyle had to be the father – there was no other possibility - but he’d been arrested and put into custody. I was all alone, apart from my mother, and she spends most of her time in Portugal. She has a new man in her life out there, with whom I do not get on. And I wasn’t sure what Michael had been up to. He’s since pleaded guilty to a serious robbery conspiracy and picked up fifteen years. I was in two minds about him. I eventually decided to tell him I was finished with him but I knew how he would react if I did. So I told him the child I was carrying was not his. That sort of put me in the wrong so made it easier for him to accept. Savage was paying me a lot of attention. He seemed to have changed for the better and he asked me out. I accepted and we got on very well. He behaved perfectly, quite different from before. When he asked me to go with him to Brussels, I was cautious at first, but I eventually accepted and I must say his conduct throughout our trip was what you would expect from a QC and a gentleman.’ She looked pointedly at Everdene. ‘He’d booked a suite with separate beds and he made no demands at all. If I hadn’t been pregnant with Doyle’s son, I might well have been very tempted.’
She smiled but her eyes had a far away look.
‘He was in Brussels to deal with his aunt’s estate?’
‘Yes. She left him a fantastic apartment and a painting that I’ve since heard turned out to be a genuine undiscovered masterpiece. I’ve even seen a write-up about it in The Daily Telegraph. He’s a very wealthy man. A real enticement for any woman.’
She smiled, cynically.
‘You appreciate that the prosecution will say you went to Brussels with him to give yourself an alibi?’
Julia smirked and shook her head.
‘Why would I need an alibi? I’d done nothing wrong. I knew nothing about any kidnap plot. And the timing of the trip had nothing to do with me, that was down to Savage. I think that’s very important, don’t you?’
Everdene did not answer. He pressed on with his questioning.
‘But it coincided with the kidnapping of the judge’s wife and son.’
‘What if it did? It was a last minute invitation. I could hardly have planned it. And, as I understood it, Doyle was very confident that he had some legal point that would lead to his acquittal. There was no need for me to do anything to assist him, let
alone organise the kidnapping of the judge’s family. You’d have to be quite insane to attempt something like that.’
‘Yes. I’ve seen Harriet Lassiter’s skeleton argument – and the prosecution’s response. A very nice point. But it was never put to the test. Both Benson and Doyle eventually pleaded guilty.’
‘Odd that Benson abandoned the argument. It had a real prospect of success,’ interrupted Garrard, ‘but I suspect he didn’t want to risk being dragged into the kidnap and blackmail.’
‘Understandable, I suppose,’ said Julia, glumly. ‘And there wasn’t really any doubt that he was involved in the robbery. He left his DNA all over the scene. I remember Michael telling me that – before we went our separate ways.’
‘Well, at least we don’t have to worry about DNA in our case,’ said Everdene. ‘There’s no scientific evidence to show you were ever at Grayling’s home.’
‘Obviously,’ replied Julia. ‘Because I was never there!’
‘So what happened with Mr Savage?’
Julia appeared to become quite emotional. Her eyes welled up with tears.
‘It was my child. I knew he wouldn’t be interested in me if I gave birth to Doyle’s son.’
She paused and took a tissue from the sleeve of her cardigan and dabbed her eyes.
‘I had to decide whether to have the child or seek a termination.’
She paused again.
‘I made enquiries but I just couldn’t do it. Savage knew about the child, of course. It was pretty obvious I was pregnant. And I was up-front with him. I told him Doyle was the father while we were in Brussels. It didn’t seem to put him off at first, which surprised me, but it was probably the reason why he made no demands of me. When we returned to the UK, as I anticipated, he quickly lost interest. Then I was questioned by the police – quite out of the blue. I answered to the best of my ability and I was told I could go. Then a few weeks later, I was arrested and remanded in custody. I was refused bail. Very unfairly I thought.’
She dabbed her eyes again. ‘There was no prospect of resuming the relationship with Bill Savage after that. He also told me he couldn’t possibly represent me.’ A note of bitterness crept into her voice. ‘A conflict of interest he said.’ She laughed, cynically. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be very good for his career would it? A new QC linked to a woman who was pregnant by a serious criminal? That wouldn’t do at all!’
A Private and Convenient Place Page 9