At the Dark Hour

by John Wilson

Adam sat down and drank back a glass of water. His left hand was trembling and he felt sweat running down his back. Preston rose gracefully to his feet and directed a conspiratorial smile towards the jury before turning his attention to Novak, standing forlorn in the witness box. This was a disaster!

  Novak had jumped when Adam mentioned his name, and had looked up, bewildered, at his counsel. Slowly, painfully, he had risen to his feet in the dock and was ushered across the court by one of the guards.

  Adam had watched as Novak, in his crumpled blue suit, made his way down to the front of the court. He passed close by Preston who was watching him like a pink-faced falcon, his pen to his lips. He climbed into the witness box and, disorientated, looked around him, first at the jury, then up at the judge and finally down towards counsel. His eyes did not seem to be focusing.

  – Tomas Novak!

  Novak jumped and then looked down into the well of the court for the source of the command. The clerk to the court, in wig and gown, was standing facing him.

  – How do you wish to take the oath?

  – Affirm.

  His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

  – Raise your right hand and repeat after me.

  He raised his hand to give the affirmation and tried to stand up straight. His shoulders were hunched and his hair unruly. Tie-less, he had buttoned his shirt up to conceal the vivid red wheal across his neck. Suddenly he seemed very small against the majesty of the court room. Adam thought back to the erect and arrogant figure he had first met in December. The haughtiness was gone. He muttered the affirmation following the words of the court clerk. His hand, held up before him, was shaking.

  Adam went through the formalities of name and address and of his homeland of Czechoslovakia. There was an audible gasp from several members of the jury when Novak said that his training had been as a physicist. This was an intelligent educated man who would have no difficulty with the construction of a bomb. As he confirmed his previous occupation something of the earlier swagger came back to him, as though this was some validation of his worth. He shook himself, as though waking up, and looked around the court room again, with renewed awareness.

  – When did you come to this country, Mr Novak?

  – At the beginning of 1940, January.

  – How did you get here?

  – I took a boat from Gibraltar to Liverpool.

  – Did you make friends with anyone on the journey?

  – Yes. With Milo Hoffer.

  – Mr Milosevich Hoffer is a doctor, is that right?

  – So I understand.

  – Did you befriend anyone else on the boat?

  – No.

  – Mr Hoffer had a wife, Katya. Did you meet her?

  – I did not. (A lie, thought Adam.)

  – Mr and Mrs Hoffer presented themselves to the Aliens Tribunal for registration. Why did you not do so?

  – Mr Hoffer persuaded me not to.

  There was another murmuring from the jury and Adam felt they were adding Hoffer to the list of conspirators and fifth columnists.

  – Why would Mr Hoffer wish to do that?

  – He persuaded me that I, as a physicist, would be treated differently to him … and his wife.

  – How did you live between February and December 1940?

  – I survived. I found what work I could. I had very little money.

  – When you were arrested you were living in Queen’s Road in Leytonstone?

  – Yes.

  – And how did you find that address.

  – Mr Milo Hoffer found it for me. He recommended it to me.

  There was another susurration from the jury at the second mention of the name.

  – How long had you been living there?

  – For about nine months.

  – You have heard your landlord tell this court that you had only been living there for a matter of days?

  – Well, of course. He is lying. He knows the truth.

  Novak’s voice, louder now, echoed around the court room. It all sounded so desperately thin. Adam had virtually no ammunition with which to defend his client. At that point Mr Justice Sherdley called a halt to proceedings for the day and, before rising, reminded the jury that they should not discuss the case with anyone and reminded Novak similarly that he could not discuss his evidence or the case with anyone, including his lawyers, whilst he was in the witness box.

  Dusk was beginning to fall when Adam and Jones came out onto the streets. Adam had left his robes in the robing room whilst Jones had told Mr and Mrs Hoffer to return again tomorrow, reminding them of the power of the witness summons.

  – Preston’s going to have a field day.

  – Novak’s not telling the whole truth, the stupid idiot.

  – We’re going to have to call Katya, Mr Jones. As things stand there’s no way that jury are going to acquit him.

  – We can’t do that, Mr Falling.

  – We may have to.

  – I’m not happy about this.

  – I’ll see you back here at 9.30 tomorrow. I want to get back to chambers before Blytheway leaves.

  The hearing had resumed at 10.30 the following day but things didn’t improve. The jurors, when they reassembled, pointedly avoided looking at Adam as they filed into court whilst exchanging morning greetings and smiles with Preston. Their mood had hardened overnight. Adam had resumed asking questions but nothing seemed to warm them to him or Novak. The fact that he was of previous good character meant nothing. Novak denied all knowledge of the plans and said he had neither seen nor touched them. He denied all knowledge of any conspiracy. But he would say that. Adam had asked him about Katya Hoffer but he categorically denied having any knowledge of her and denied even meeting or speaking with her. Adam was sure that was another lie. But he couldn’t cross-examine his own client and to have done so would only make matters worse. And so he sat down and handed the floor to Preston, fearing the worst. Adam refilled his glass from the carafe and looked over at his opponent.

  Preston stood silently for at least half a minute, gazing down at his notes. He was carrying a Hunter pocket watch in his waistcoat and the gold chain hung in small crescents across his stomach. He took it out, opened it and looked ostentatiously for the time. Then he bowed to the judge and, turning slightly, smiled at the jury. A smile that said “Welcome to the show”. Then he turned to face Novak.

  – Mr Novak. You are a liar, is that not right?

  – I am telling the truth.

  – You … are … a … liar!

  Preston practically shouted the words at the man. Novak replied so quietly he was hardly audible.

  – I am not a liar.

  – When you were questioned by the police you told them you had only just arrived in the country, did you not?

  – That was a mistake. I’m sorry.

  – You have spent some time telling the ladies and the gentlemen of the jury that you arrived in this country in January 1940.

  – That is true.

  – If that is true, then when you originally spoke to the police you lied, is that right?

  – It was a mistake.

  – If what you have told this court is true, then what you told the police was a lie.

  – No.

  – Your evidence is that you had not just come to this country, is that right?

  – Yes.

  – So it would not be true to say that you had only just arrived.

  – No.

  – Thank you. But you see, I must put it to you that you had only just come to this country and your … story that you came here in January of last year is the real lie. Is that right?

  – It is the truth.

  – Even your landlord says that you had only just arrived here.

  – He is lying.

  – So, everyone is lying except you.

  – My landlord is not telling the truth.

  Preston was again silent for a long thirty seconds. He looked over again at the jury. He was gi
ving them every reason they could possibly need for disbelieving Novak. Then he turned back to Novak.

  – Mr Novak, you have no respect for the laws of our country do you?

  – But of course I respect the laws of this country.

  – You knew that, according to our laws, you were under an obligation to report yourself to the authorities on your arrival, is that right?

  – Yes.

  – And you did not report yourself did you?

  – No.

  – So you broke one of the laws of our country?

  – That is not how it was.

  Again the exchange went backwards and forwards until Novak had to admit he had broken the law. Preston had now established that he did not tell the truth and did not obey the laws of his adopted country. Novak’s attempts to evade answers that were ultimately inevitable did not endear him to the jury. Having landed two major blows Preston began toying with his witness. Gradually and with no great haste he took Novak through each stage of the prosecution case and pointed out the absence of any real positive defence to it. Of course, most of the evidence against him was circumstantial but it demanded a better explanation than Novak seemed capable of giving. And, said Preston, in an almost rhetorical question, why should the jury not believe that he had only just entered the country? He had done enough to convict Novak but still he asked question upon question. Adam was wondering why he didn’t sit down and let him re-examine, and then he looked up at the clock and realised what Preston was doing.

  He wanted to keep Novak in the witness box until 1 o’clock when the court would rise. That way Adam would not be able to speak with him over the short adjournment. There could be no doubt but that Preston had noticed Milo and Katya Hoffer waiting outside court. He wanted to make Adam’s decision about whether to call them as difficult as possible.

  Mr Justice Sherdley announced that the court would be breaking for lunch and gave the customary warning about discussing the case, then everyone rose. Novak was ushered from the witness box and back through the dock to the cells. Over the one-hour break Adam and Jones again went over whether or not to call any witnesses and if so whom. They both agreed that there would be dangers in calling Milo Hoffer as the jury had clearly formed a negative view of him. Although Hoffer had admitted to Jones that he told Novak not to report, there was little guarantee that he would be prepared to say that in court. Adam returned to the question of calling Katya. Jones was opposed to this. They did not know what she would say and Novak had forbidden it. They could not ride rough-shod over their client’s instructions. But Novak’s instructions were going to be the death of him.

  Preston only had a few minutes of questions when the Court resumed at two o’clock and, in re-examination, there was little Adam could do to repair the damage. Novak walked, head bowed, back to the dock. If the defence case were to end at that point, there was little doubt but that he would be convicted and sentenced to death.

  – Yes, Mr Falling?

  It was Mr Justice Sherdley. Adam felt a panic rising in his chest. He looked up at the judge and then across at the jury. They were looking at him. Their faces blurred as he looked from left to right. Preston muttered something underneath his breath to Phillips who sat behind him. Jones was tugging at his gown. The usher was standing in the well of the court ready to bring in the next witness. Should he call Milo Hoffer? No. It would not help. He could speak of Novak’s good character. No use. Should he call Katya Hoffer? She held the secrets in this case. He heard Blytheway tut-tutting in his ear. He had no instructions to do so. It would be completely wrong. Unprofessional. Novak was facing death. He did not believe that Novak was guilty. The jury were going to convict.

  – Mr Falling?

  The judge again. More insistent this time. Adam made a decision.

  – My Lord. I now call Mrs Katya Hoffer.

  A gasp went out around the courtroom and then there was a bellowing from the dock. It was Novak.

  – No!

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  (Tuesday 4th March 1941)

  – Mr Falling! Please keep your client in order!

  If the usher heard Novak’s roar she ignored it and headed out into the vestibule. Seconds later she reappeared shepherding Katya Hoffer in front of her. She had taken off her heavy overcoat and was wearing a dark purple dress, high-waisted so that it showed off her figure. There was muted embroidery on her skirt. She paused at the back of the court, then took a deep breath, which accentuated the fullness of her breasts, and strode towards the witness box, eyes fixed straight ahead of her.

  There was a sense of grace about her. Adam saw that the jurors, men and women alike, were following her with their eyes. He understood why Jones had been mesmerised by her. Preston turned obliquely towards Adam and said under his breath:

  – Well, she’s a pretty little thing, Falling.

  Looking over his shoulder he saw Novak sitting bolt upright, his mouth open, transfixed. He had made no further sound. It was his eyes, the pupils dilated, which gave him away. Adam realised that in all his weeks and months in prison this was the sight that he dreamt of night and day. He remembered Novak’s despair, on their second visit to him, that Katya had not come to see him. Now here she was, only yards away from him. Her presence seemed to stifle his earlier vehement objections. If he was to face the gallows, better that he should do so after seeing her one last time.

  Katya Hoffer climbed into the witness box and peered around her, her luxuriant dark hair framing her face. She looked first at the Judge and made a respectful nod of her head in his direction. Mr Justice Sherdley was also engrossed. Then she looked across at the jury and smiled shyly at them. Finally, she looked at Preston and then at Adam. She did not look towards Novak. The terror that he had seen lurking in her eyes appeared to have gone. Instead, she presented herself as humble and eager to assist.

  She raised a dainty hand and repeated the affirmation after the Court Clerk. Her voice was clear and musical, though faintly accented. Adam rose to his feet, introduced himself to her, and took her through the preliminaries.

  – When did you come to England?

  – In January of last year.

  – Who did you come with?

  – My husband, Milo.

  – How did you get here?

  – We came by boat from Gibraltar. I thought we were going to America.

  Adam took a deep breath. He indicated to Tomas Novak sitting gaping at her in the dock.

  – Did you meet this man on your voyage?

  Katya turned to look at the back of the court, her eyes narrowing as if attempting better to focus. There was a long pause.

  – No I did not.

  Adam, over his shoulder, saw Novak’s body slump.

  – Are you quite sure of that?

  – Yes. I am.

  Adam changed tack and realised, as soon as the question was out of his mouth, that he had broken one of the cardinal rules: don’t ask a question that you don’t know the answer to:

  When did you and Milo get married?

  Why had he asked that question? Why didn’t he ask Jones to find this out when he went to see her? Katya hesitated and for the first time seemed unsure of herself.

  – I don’t see why that is relevant.

  – I think you’d better answer the question, Mrs Hoffer.

  It was the judge intervening. She looked at him and then back at Adam, and then, in a far lower voice:

  – In October 1939.

  October 1939? She had only married Milo Hoffer shortly before they left the country. There is an age difference between them of more than twenty years. Her answer begged a lot of other questions which he did not want to investigate. Realising he had made an error, he returned to his previous line:

  – Tell me about the journey from Gibraltar.

  – What is there to tell?

  – How long did it take, what were the seas like, did you make any friends?

  – The journey was ten days. We headed straight o
ut to sea so I thought we were going to America. But the captain was just avoiding mines. We were hunted by German submarines, but fortunately they did not find us. I was very frightened …

  The last part was said in little more than a whisper and Adam could tell that she was winning over the jury, who sympathised with her, wanted to like her and wanted to believe her.

  – How did Milo Hoffer find the trip?

  – He has no sea legs. He was very sick. He stayed below deck.

  – Where did you sleep during the journey?

  – Mr Falling. I really don’t see where this line of questions is taking us. Can we move on please?

  Mr Justice Sherdley was becoming impatient.

  – I’m sorry, my Lord. I am nearly finished. Mrs Hoffer, where did you sleep?

  – I slept under one of the lifeboats.

  – Do you remember anything else of significance during the journey?

  Adam caught a quick sideways glance from her in the direction of Novak.

  – No.

  He was getting nowhere.

  – When did you first become aware of Mr Novak?

  – My husband … Milo told me he had been arrested. My husband met him while he was working in a bookshop near to our home.

  – You knew nothing of him before then?

  Another almost imperceptible sideways glance.

  – No.

  – No further questions, my Lord.

  Adam was not allowed to cross-examine his own witness. He sat down and then, looking up, saw that the Judge’s eyes were fixed on him.

  – Mr Falling.

  Adam stood at once.

  – Yes, my Lord.

  – Where does this take us? No doubt you will be addressing the jury in due course on Mrs Hoffer’s evidence but I have to say that, from where I sit, it appears to have absolutely no bearing on Mr Novak’s case whatsoever! I suspect, Mr Preston, that you will have no questions arising out of this evidence.