by John Wilson
Katya Hoffer made to leave the witness box as Preston stood up to reply.
– On the contrary, my Lord, there are some questions that I would wish to put to Mrs Hoffer. Please stay where you are just for the moment, madam.
Katya Hoffer froze and then slowly turned back and stood where she had been standing before. Preston turned to face her
– You come from Czechoslovakia do you not, Mrs Hoffer?
– Yes, I do.
– Were you aware that Mr Novak also comes from Czechoslovakia?
– I now know that, yes.
– You gave your address as the Old King’s Road in Leytonstone?
– Yes.
– And you have lived there since about March 1940 perhaps?
– About that, yes.
– Are there many refugees from Czechoslovakia living in Leytonstone?
– A few I suppose.
– And you Czech people stick together, I suppose?
Katya Hoffer hesitated.
– Milo and I keep to ourselves.
– Did you meet up with other Czech refugees in your area?
– I don’t see the point of this question.
Her first mistake. Preston’s voice was moving from the courteous to the forceful.
– It is not for you to see the point of my questions, Mrs Hoffer. Did you meet up with other Czech refugees in your area?
– Yes … I suppose so.
– You would have known about the existence of other Czech refugees in your area?
– Probably.
– Mr Novak was arrested in Queen’s Road, Leytonstone. Were you aware of that?
– Yes.
– You must keep your voice up Mrs Hoffer, please answer my question again.
– Yes.
– Do you know where Queen’s Road is?
Katya looked around for help but none could be forthcoming. After a long pause:
– Yes.
– It is no more than a quarter of a mile from where you yourself are living, is that not right?
– Yes.
– Are you really expecting this court to believe that you had no knowledge of Mr Novak’s existence before he was arrested?
She was becoming flustered and her hands began to flutter around her face. Adam was watching her keenly now and saw again the first hint of fear in her eyes.
– I did not.
– Mr Novak told this court that it was your husband who found him his lodgings in Queen’s Road. Are you really telling this court that he did this without telling you anything about it?
– I … I … Milo does not tell me everything.
Her voice cracked and Adam could see that the jury, still watching intently, were shifting their views about her. He looked up at the Judge and saw that he was writing furiously, taking a note of everything she said.
– You’re not telling this Court the truth are you, Mrs Hoffer?
Preston was aggressive and accusatory now, intimidating the frail young woman in the witness box. He paused and slowly turned to the jury – Adam caught the pink aquiline profile – and gave them a sad conspiratorial look.
– How old are you, Mrs Hoffer?
– I am twenty-eight.
– And how old is Mr Hoffer?
– He is fifty-four.
– Fifty-four? So he is twenty-six years older than you are?
– It does not concern me.
– And you only married him in October 1939.
– Yes.
– Just four months before you came to this country?
– That is my business.
There was a catch in her voice, which gurgled now with emotion. Her cheeks had gone red and there was a hint of a tear in her eyes. Preston shouted at her.
– Mrs Hoffer! This is a serious matter! Mr Novak stands accused of treachery and faces a death sentence from this court if he is convicted. You must answer my questions.
His tone made her jump.
– Tell me about your courtship.
– What?
– How did you meet Mr Hoffer? When did you start courting? When did you decide to get married? Why did you decide to get married?
Preston had let out a stream of questions and it was plain that he was attempting to confuse and upset her. She put her hands to her face and began to sob. Her shoulders began to shake, then she said to the Judge, through tears:
– Your Worship. I do not see the point of these questions. These are personal things.
– Mr Preston?
– My Lord.
Preston was suddenly solicitous. He took out his Hunter and studied the time and then looked behind him at the Court clock on the rear wall. It was 3.30 p.m.
– I am very sorry, Mrs Hoffer. I did not want to upset you. My Lord, looking at the time it may be that the best course would be to adjourn a little earlier than usual so that Mrs Hoffer can recover herself.
– A commendable approach, Mr Preston.
– I think Mrs Hoffer would be assisted by a drink of water.
Preston produced an unused glass from in front of him and, holding it delicately between thumb and finger, filled it from the carafe before leaving counsels’ row to hand it to Katya Hoffer. She took it and drank it back before putting it down in front of her.
– 10.30 tomorrow then,
said Mr Justice Sherdley giving the usual warnings about discussing the case. The court rose and Katya Hoffer was shown out of the court by the usher. Adam took off his robes and wrapped his wig in them.
He gathered up his notes and prepared to leave counsels’ row. As he was doing so he turned to have a quick word with Jones.
He did not see Preston’s junior, Phillips, walk down to the witness box and, very gingerly, picked up Katya Hoffer’s water glass and take it back to Preston.
Chapter Fifty-eight
(Wednesday 5th March 1941)
The day’s hearing was about to begin. The jurors were all sitting in the jury box, a new mood of seriousness hanging over them. Preston was writing some notes to himself and Novak was sitting silently in the dock behind Adam. He looked over at Katya Hoffer. She wore a blue dress today. There were dark circles under her eyes and he guessed that she had not slept much the night before. It was 10.28. Adam risked his first glance up to the public gallery. The two rows of seats were full of expectant spectators. They were a mixed bunch. Two old women sitting at the front and next to them a Chelsea Pensioner in his bright red uniform. Various men in suits, aged, Adam guessed between forty-five and seventy. He scoured the back row. There was the same general mix. And then he saw him. As he’d promised, Roland Blytheway was sitting in the far corner of the back row, his eyes hooded.
When the court had risen the previous day it was Adam’s first duty to go and speak with Tomas Novak. He and Jones made their way down to the cells. He was not looking forward to the interview. He had specifically gone against clear instructions and it was plain that he had placed Katya Hoffer in a potentially vulnerable position. He wasn’t sure where Preston was taking his cross-examination but he had been unnecessarily brutal with her – and then surprisingly concerned for her welfare. It was particularly odd that he should suggest that the court rise early when he appeared to have Katya on the ropes.
Novak was in a strange mood. On the one hand he was angry that his instructions had been disobeyed. On the other he appeared pleased – though he did not say it in so many words – that he had had an opportunity to see Katya. When Adam tried to discuss with him what she was saying, how she was providing no support for him, he seemed almost indifferent, as though he had given up hope. A decision still needed to be made about whether or not to call Milo Hoffer but Adam told Jones and Novak that he wanted to think about that issue overnight. They said their goodbyes and left the cell. The warder turned an enormous key and the bolts slotted into place with a metallic clang. Adam took one last look through the spy-hole and in the gloom saw Novak, sitting as they had left him, staring into space.
&nbs
p; Adam had gone straight back to Blytheway’s room in chambers, where Roly was waiting for him. The latter had agreed to meet with Adam for a debriefing session on each day of the treason trial, realising how stressful he was finding it. On the Monday evening Blytheway had shaken his head as Adam related the day’s events, concluding, as Adam had done, that the case was not going well. Adam had raised the question of calling Katya Hoffer on day two – after all there was nothing to lose –and again Blytheway had counselled against it.
Adam had knocked on Blytheway’s door and entered. A pot of tea was sitting on the side table with two cups and saucers.
– You’re back sooner than I expected.
– We rose early today.
– So the evidence is finished? You didn’t call Milo or Katya Hoffer?
– Er, no. I did call Katya Hoffer.
Blytheway lost his habitual cheerfulness and his expression became grim.
– Oh dear. But, I suppose, no harm’s been done. If she has already finished her evidence then she can’t have added anything too unexpected into the mix.
– She’s not finished her evidence.
– Not finished?!
– She was getting upset so Preston suggested that we rise early so that she could compose herself.
Blytheway’s became grimmer.
– I don’t like the sound of that at all. Give me your notebook.
Adam handed it over and waited whilst Blytheway read his transcript of the cross-examination.
– This is very helpful but of course it does not give me the flavour of how the questions were put.
– That was what was slightly odd. Preston actually whispered to me before she started giving evidence how pretty she was. It was almost the first time he’d addressed a word to me. And then he was very courteous to begin with but got more and more aggressive.
– Hmm.
– It was almost as though he wanted to make her cry. But as soon as she started sobbing he completely changed and was apologetic and friendly and suggested that we rise early for her benefit. He even poured a glass of water for her to drink.
Blytheway, who had been putting his cup to his mouth, put it down so suddenly that the crockery clattered.
– I beg your pardon?
– He completely changed and became apologetic and friendly …
– No, not that bit. You say he poured her a glass of water?
– Yes. I don’t see why that is so important.
– He didn’t suggest that the usher pour her a drink of water?
– I suppose that’s what would normally happen.
– Instead he poured a glass that was in front of him on the bench and then, I assume, gave it to the usher to pass on to Katya Hoffer?
– Now that you mention it, he didn’t do that. He actually went out of his way to give it to her himself.
Blytheway leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a long time. Then:
– Tell me, Adam. How did he hold the glass?
– Between his thumb and forefinger.
– Up near the rim I suppose.
Adam saw abruptly saw the way Blytheway’s mind was working.
– Yes. But I don’t think we can read too much into it. It was a fairly spontaneous gesture. A kindness.
– Do you think so?
– Why shouldn’t it be?
– And would I be right in supposing that he didn’t place it in her dominant hand, so that when she drank from the glass she had to change hands?
– I … I … I can’t say that I noticed.
– Whatever it was, Adam, it wasn’t spontaneous. Did you drink water during the day?
– Yes. Of course.
– And how many glasses did you have in front of you?
– One, of course …
– So why did Peter Preston have two?
Adam shuddered and felt himself going white. He looked up at Blytheway, who was staring intently into his eyes.
– Why for that matter would he want to rise early? I suspect dirty tricks, Adam. There’s little I can do but I will come along to Court tomorrow and see what happens.
And so it was that Roland Blytheway now sat discreetly at the back of the public gallery.
– Court rise!
Everyone rose to their feet and Mr Justice Sherdley entered bowed and sat down. Preston rose to continue his cross-examination and threw a malicious smile in Adam’s direction before smiling broadly to the jury. Katya Hoffer, in the witness box, tried to ready herself for the onslaught. She was very pale and she swayed away from Preston as if expecting a physical blow. Preston again waited for thirty seconds before asking his first question. His tone was aggressive.
– Mrs Hoffer. Yesterday you told this court a pack of lies did you not?
– I told only the truth.
– You will have to speak more loudly than that. The jury must hear what you say. I repeat, you lied and you lied and you lied.
– It’s not true.
Preston turned slowly and picked the cardboard cylinder off the desk behind him. Then, with a forefinger at either end he held it up for her and then the jury to see. Katya’s eyes widened and her mouth was a black hole in her white face. The judge was leaning forward in his seat, his pen upraised. The jury too were sitting expectantly. Adam felt his heart sinking. Roly had been right.
– Have you ever seen this before, Mrs Hoffer?
– No. I have not.
– Do you know what it is?
– Of course I do not.
– It contained plans of a water pumping station and bomb-making instructions.
– Then of course I know nothing about such things.
Preston lowered the cylinder and, very delicately, replaced it on the desk behind him.
– I want to go through your evidence with you from yesterday, Mrs Hoffer. First of all you said that you did not know Mr Novak prior to his arrest?
– Yes.
– Then you said that you did not know where he lived prior to his arrest?
– That is true.
– And you told us that you had never been to his room at that address?
– Again that is true.
Preston paused and looked around the courtroom. Adam began counting the seconds. He had got to seventy-five before Preston suddenly shouted out at Katya Hoffer:
– Then how, Mrs Hoffer, do you account for the fact that your fingerprints are on the cardboard cylinder behind me?
It was as though an electric charge had gone through the room. All eyes focused on Katya Hoffer as she attempted to come to terms with the question she had been asked. Adam sneaked a look at Novak and saw a look of astonishment on his face, mouth wide open and shaking his head in disbelief. He noticed that some of the jurors too had looked and seen Novak’s reaction. He looked back at Katya. There was no disguising the look of terror in her eyes now.
– That cannot possibly be!
– It can and it is, Mrs Hoffer. We obtained your fingerprints from the glass that you drank of yesterday afternoon. The ladies and gentlemen of the jury know, indeed Mr Falling has made great play of it, that Mr Novak’s fingerprints are not on the tube but there were certain unidentified fingerprints there. The fingerprints on your glass matched some of the fingerprints on the tube that is sitting behind me – then to the Judge – My Lord, we took advantage of the additional time available yesterday afternoon to conduct an urgent forensic analysis of Mrs Hoffer’s glass.
Katya looked at her hands and made to wipe them against her dress. It was as though she had shrunk physically. She pressed herself to the back of the witness box, and her eyes, filled with entreaty, darted round the court room looking for help which, so plainly, was not coming to her. Adam put his head in his hands. If he hadn’t called her none of this would have happened. Eventually Preston broke the silence.
– Can you please explain, Mrs Hoffer, how it is that your fingerprints are on this tube?
Again, a long silence. Adam stoo
d up and addressed the Judge. Preston sat down.
– My Lord, this line of questioning comes as a complete surprise to the defence. I was given absolutely no notice of it and, as is clear, neither was the witness. It would only be fair if she was given time to compose herself as Mr Preston purported to do yesterday.
– I absolutely object, my Lord. The witness must answer these questions.
Both counsel were now standing. Mr Justice Sherdley looked at Preston and then back at Falling.
– I think Mr Falling has a point, Mr Preston. It does seem that your show of solicitude to this witness yesterday was something of a charade.
– My Lord!
– I think I will rise for thirty minutes. Mrs Hoffer. I must remind you that you are not allowed to discuss your evidence with anyone during the break. When you come back I expect you to answer Leading Counsel’s question.
Adam rushed up towards the public gallery and bumped into Blytheway, who was moving quickly down the stairs
– You were right.
– We can talk as we are walking … You were also right. Katya Hoffer does hold the key. But this is very serious. Preston has caught her red-handed. I was watching Novak from the second that Preston picked up that cardboard tube. It was quite plain to me that he knew nothing about this. He was trying to keep her out of it because she plainly wanted him to keep her out of it. But I don’t think he knew what she had done.
– What should I do?
They were heading towards the robing room. Blytheway pulled his red bag off a hook and began detaching the collar from his shirt and putting on a high one and bands. He smoothed down his hair in front of the mirror as he talked.
– Well, sweetheart. There’s very little you can do at this stage. The cross-examination will have to proceed. But it seems to me that you would be mad to call Milo Hoffer now.