Old Cases New Colours (A Dudley Green Investigation) (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 9)

by Madalyn Morgan

  ‘No,’ Ena said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, ‘Eve Robinson did not accuse me of killing her husband. ‘Her exact words were, “I hope what you find in there was worth my husband’s life. If you hadn’t come to the hospital to see him, he would still be alive.”’

  ‘Thank you for clearing that up, Mrs Green.’ With a sympathetic smile, Sir John said, ‘Are you happy to continue?’ Ena nodded. ‘I think the court has been misled about your association with Mr Nick Miller. Would you describe the relationship between yourself and Mr Miller and tell the jury why you travelled with him to Austria?’

  ‘There was no relationship. Nick Miller had been taken into Police custody for questioning. He had valuable information that the security services – my department in particular – and the Police needed in order to expose a large and deep-rooted spy ring. As you know, the Director of the Home Office was the head of the cell, Helen Crowther and Shaun O’Shaughnessy were members. Nick Miller said he would release the information once he had arrived safely in Austria. I didn’t choose to go with him, he insisted I went as insurance.’

  Ena looked at the jury. ‘But I did have a personal reason for accompanying Nick Miller to Austria. Nick had proof that Helen Crowther, who was found dead on December 23rd, 1958 in my office, had killed herself. Crowther went to extraordinary lengths to make her suicide look as if my husband had murdered her. I flew to Austria with Nick Miller to save my husband from being hanged for a murder he did not commit.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Green.’ Sir John turned to the judge. ‘No more questions, My Lord.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ena joined Artie at the bar of the Lamb and Flag. ‘I’ve got you a scotch.’ He passed the whisky to her and she took a drink.

  Ena glanced around the bar. ‘There’s a vacant table by the door.’

  Artie followed Ena to the table. ‘So, how did it go?’ he asked when they were seated.

  ‘It was a nightmare. O’Shaughnessy’s lawyer twisted everything I said. He made me out to be a liar and didn’t give me a chance to answer some of the questions.’ Ena took another drink of her whisky. ‘Out of context some things did sound….’

  ‘Dodgy?’

  ‘Questionable is a better word. He made me sound as if I was the guilty party.’

  ‘Did you tell John Hillary what O’Shaughnessy did to me?’

  ‘Yes, and the defence lawyer shouted hearsay.’

  ‘Tell Hillary I’ll go to court if necessary.’

  ‘I will. Sir John countered the defence lawyer’s cross-examination and asked me questions which allowed me to put the record straight. What about your day? Did you get to Wandsworth Prison in time to speak to Doreen?’

  ‘Yes and no. I got there in plenty of time but she didn’t turn up.’

  ‘That’s odd. Why would she accept a visiting order and not use it? I’m pleased of course, but I’m curious to know why she didn’t visit him?’

  ‘Perhaps she’s realised at last that her excuse for a husband is a waste of time. Let’s hope she gives him his marching orders when he gets out.’

  ‘I don’t think she’ll do that. She’ll have him back for the sake of the boys.’

  ‘In that case, why didn’t she visit him today?’

  ‘You could ask her. She hasn’t got a telephone so in the morning, when you’ve been to the office and checked the post, drive over to her house. I’ll phone you when we break for lunch.’

  ***

  Ena arrived at the Old Bailey just before nine o’clock. She was about to enter the waiting room when she heard someone calling her.

  Stopping short of entering the room, she turned to see Mr Martin, ruddy-cheeked, at her side. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Green, but you won’t be required to give evidence today,’ he said out of breath and sounding flustered. He took the handkerchief from the top pocket of his black suit jacket and mopped his brow. ‘Mrs Robinson is giving evidence today.’

  ‘I thought Eve Robinson had already given evidence.’

  ‘She had. Well, she began to give evidence last week, but she was taken ill. I think going over how the defendant had almost killed her was too much for her. She collapsed. A doctor was sent for and she was diagnosed with exhaustion. He ordered complete rest. She telephoned the Chambers yesterday and said she was better.’

  ‘I hope she’s up to being cross-examined by O’Shaughnessy’s lawyer.’ Mr Martin nodded in agreement. ‘I should like to hear Mrs Robinson give evidence.’

  ‘Come with me, I’ll find you a seat in the public gallery.’

  Entering the gallery they were met by loud chatter. Mr Martin whispered in the ear of a large man who had spread himself across two seats. Glaring at the clerk and looking Ena up and down, the man reluctantly shuffled along to allow her to sit.

  It seemed to Ena that half the spectators were so theatrically dressed they might have been auditioning for pantomime at the end of Brighton Pier. Probably friends of O’Shaughnessy or they had worked with him at one time or another. The other half with their short-cropped hair and sour faces – looked like relics of Mosley’s BUF or the splinter party, the League of Empire Loyalists. Either group of fascists left a nasty taste in the mouths of decent human beings. Ena sat quietly, hoping no one would recognise her from giving evidence against O’Shaughnessy the day before.

  ‘Order!’ the clerk of the court called to no effect. He called again, this time louder, ‘Order!’ Not until everyone in the court was silent, did he continue. ‘All rise for his honour, Judge Peckham.’

  When the judge was seated, Sir John Hillary stood up and addressed him. ‘My Lord, I would like to call Mrs Evelyn Robinson.’

  Judge Peckham leaned forward ‘She is recovered, I hope.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord, Mrs Robinson is quite well.’

  The Judge gave a cursory nod. And the clerk of the court shouted, ‘Call Mrs Evelyn Robinson.’

  Eve Robinson entered the court to an outcry of boos and jeers. The usher met her and led her down the centre aisle to the witness box.

  With a face like thunder, Judge Peckham glared at the mob in the public gallery until they stopped heckling.

  As Eve Robinson was being sworn in, a woman shouted, ‘Liar! She threw herself at him and when he turned her down she cried wolf.’

  ‘Madam! Hold your tongue in my court!’ Judge Peckham looked sternly at the woman who had shouted out and then at the men who Ena assumed were O’Shaughnessy’s fascist followers on the front row, ‘One more outburst and I shall have you all taken to the cells.’ He eyeballed the man sitting next to the woman. ‘Do I make myself clear!’

  The man and the woman looked down and muttered, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Proceed,’ Judge Peckham said to the usher.

  Eve Robinson gave her name and address and stepped into the witness box.

  Sir John Hillary picked up several sheets of paper and walked over to Eve. ‘Thank you for coming in today, Mrs Robinson. If you need to take a break at any time, please say so.’ Sir John looked up at the judge. He nodded.

  Sir John flicked through the pages of the typed manuscript until he had scanned all six pages. ‘I do not wish to go over old ground or to ask you to repeat evidence that the jury have already heard; evidence that may be distressing to you, but I must ask you again if the man who tried to strangle you is in this court?’

  Eve barely glanced at O’Shaughnessy. ‘Yes, Sir, he’s in the dock.’

  ‘The defendant?’ Eve nodded. ‘Mrs Robinson, do you know why the defendant tried to strangle you?’

  ‘My husband’s personal assistant, who Shaun O’Shaughnessy lived with, was writing my husband’s memoirs. After she killed herself, he, O’Shaughnessy, came to my house and said that he would finish the memoirs. We had a couple of meetings, then one day he arrived at my house drunk. He told me that my husband’s PA, Helen Crowther, had been my husband’s mistress. He said they’d been having an affair all the time I was married to McKenzie and that they had been lovers right up unt
il the time she…’ Eve took a shuddering breath, ‘she killed him. O’Shaughnessy laughed. He took pleasure in telling me.’

  O’Shaughnessy’s lawyer stood up. ‘Speculation, My Lord, unless my client told the witness how he felt, she couldn’t possibly know.’

  ‘I’ll rephrase, My Lord.’ The judge nodded. ‘Mrs Robinson, what made you think the defendant had taken pleasure in telling you his friend had murdered your husband?’

  ‘He laughed about it, taunted me. He said Helen Crowther was a spy, a German agent, who was married to a military officer in Berlin. He said my husband was besotted with her. He said McKenzie didn’t care that she was a spy, or that she was married, and that he’d given her a job to be close to her.’ Eve looked pleadingly at Judge Peckham. ‘My husband was a good man, a loyal man. He was the Director of MI5,’ she continued. ‘He didn’t know about Helen Crowther’s past,’ she sobbed, ‘I swear he didn’t.’

  Sir John interrupted. ‘Mrs Robinson, would you like a break.’ Eve shook her head. ‘A drink of water, perhaps?’ Sir John looked across the room to the clerk who immediately poured water into a glass from the jug on Sir John’s desk and took it to her.

  After taking a sip, Eve put the glass down on the ledge at the left of the witness box and whispered, ‘Thank you.’

  She looked frail. Her hair was greyer than Ena remembered and she had lost weight.

  ‘Mrs Robinson, do you feel well enough to continue?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘If at any time you feel unwell, I’m sure My Lord would allow a recess.’

  Eve nodded. ‘Thank you, but I’d like to carry on, Sir.’

  Sir John gave Eve a sympathetic smile. ‘Mrs Robinson, did the defendant tell you anything else?’

  ‘Not then, no. He told me when he was…’ Eve lifted her head high and, for the first time since she had entered the witness box, she looked directly at O’Shaughnessy. ‘When he was choking me, he said I knew too much. He said, “I’m going to shut you up.”’

  ‘And by shut you up, you believed the defendant was going to kill you?’

  ‘My Lord!’ Mr Anderson leapt from his seat. ‘My learned friend is putting words into the witness’s mouth.’

  ‘Rephrase your question, Sir John.’

  Sir John acknowledged the judge with an apologetic nod. ‘Mrs Robinson, what did you understand the words shut you up to mean?’

  Eve looked at O’Shaughnessy again, ‘That he was going to kill me. While he was strangling me, I lost consciousness and collapsed. The doctor said collapsing had saved my life.’

  ‘Hearsay, My Lord!’

  Judge Peckham gave the defence lawyer a quizzical look. ‘Were you not in court on the day Mrs Robinson’s doctor gave his testimony?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord but—’

  ‘Proceed, Sir John.’

  ‘I have no more questions, My Lord. Unless your honour has any questions…?’

  Judge Peckham waved the suggestion away and beckoned the clerk of the court.

  After a brief exchange, the clerk called, ‘All rise!’ Judge Peckham stood up, acknowledged the court with a nod and made his exit in a flurry of red – and the clerk called, ‘There will be an hour recess for lunch.’

  Two guards – one on either side of O’Shaughnessy – took him down to the cells, the court usher helped Eve Robinson out of the witness box and Ena left the public gallery.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hoping to speak to Eve Robinson, Ena stood among the journalists as if she was waiting to use a telephone. Within minutes, Eve emerged from Court No 1 sandwiched between Sir John and Mr Martin. Sir John took his leave, and Mr Martin whisked her away through the door leading to the waiting rooms. Ena waited for a couple of minutes. When Mr Martin didn’t reappear, she left for the café on Limeburner Lane.

  As she passed the public telephone boxes she could see people were already queuing outside the café. If she was going to get a sandwich for herself and Eve, she needed to take her place in the queue before anyone else joined it, or the hour would be up.

  Ena had no idea what Eve Robinson liked, so to be on the safe side she ordered two cheese and tomato sandwiches.

  On her way back to the court, she decided to give Artie a quick call. She took some coins from her purse and dialled the telephone at the office. ‘Artie,’ she said, before he had time to speak, ‘did you see Doreen Hardy?’

  ‘Yes, and she hadn’t received a visiting order. She showed me a letter from Arnold telling her not to visit him. He said he didn’t want her to remember him in prison. The creep said he was ashamed of his past and promised to change. He went on about how he had paid his debt to society, saying he would have a clean sheet and wanted to start again.’

  ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘Nor do I, but Doreen does. You should have seen her face. Her cheeks were flushed when she was telling me. She looked positively blooming.’

  ‘I’d like to know what he’s up to. Doreen promised me she wouldn’t tell Arnold she’d saved some money while she was cleaning at the Duke of Wellington, so what’s his game?’

  ‘We won’t know until he comes out.’

  ‘Nor will Doreen. That reminds me, will you go to the hotel and ask the manager if he’s found any marked notes in the till. Best time to go is between lunchtime closing and evening opening, and don’t be put off if Dolly the guard dog answers the door. Insist on speaking to the manager, Mr Walters. Unfortunately, I don’t think there’ll be any marked notes.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Stealing money and planting it on Doreen has served its purpose. She’s out of the picture. Argh! It’s the least complicated of our cases but the most difficult to fathom. Before I go, was there any post this morning?’

  ‘A letter from George Derby-Bloom. She’s coming to London on Friday and wondered if you had any news about her father’s death. I telephoned and told her you were at the Old Bailey and said you’d phone her as soon as you were next in the office.’

  ‘Would you give her another quick call for me? Tell her I need to speak to her father’s friend at the nursing home. Tell her I’ll be going there on Thursday and I’ll talk to her about it on Friday. Right! If there’s nothing else, I’d better get back.’

  Crossing the entrance hall, Ena saw Mr Martin exit through the door to the waiting rooms. She followed him to the room where she had spent the morning before she was called to give evidence, tapped on the door and Mr Martin answered.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Green, the public aren’t allowed back here.’

  ‘I’m not the public, I’m a witness.’

  ‘You were a witness. You are not one now.’

  ‘Mr Martin, please allow Mrs Green in.’

  Flushed, Mr Martin said, ‘It is most irregular. But if you are sure, Mrs Robinson.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I’ll be back at two o’clock to escort you to Court No 1.’

  Since Ena had last seen Eve Robinson, she had aged several years. Her face was pale, although Ena could see she had rouge on her cheeks, and her eyes were dull with loose skin and dark rings beneath them.

  ‘How are you holding up, Mrs Robinson?’

  ‘Call me Eve, Ena, please.’

  Ena crossed to Eve and sat next to her. ‘I don’t suppose you feel like eating, but I think you should have something before you go back for the afternoon session.’ Ena opened the paper bag containing the sandwiches and took one out. She offered the bag to Eve. ‘They’re nothing fancy, just plain cheese and tomato.’ Eve Robinson stared at the sandwiches. ‘I think you’ll feel better with something inside you.’ Eve nodded and took one.

  The two women sat in silence and ate their lunch. When they had finished, Eve said, ‘I owe you an apology, Ena. I was led to believe that you were responsible for my husband’s death.’

  ‘No apology needed. Helen Crowther was a very convincing liar. You weren’t the only one to suffer because of her lies. But, forget about her, she can’t hurt
you now.’

  ‘No, but O’Shaughnessy could if he got off.’

  ‘He won’t get off, Eve,’ Ena said, concerned that Eve’s resolve to make O’Shaughnessy pay for what he did to her was waning.

  ‘That’s what Sir John said.’

  ‘And he’s right.’ Ena screwed up the empty sandwich bag and lobbed it into the waste paper basket. ‘Shaun O’Shaughnessy will hang.’

  Eve inhaled sharply and her body trembled. ‘During the last few weeks I had begun to feel a little better, you know, after O’Shaughnessy attacked me. I daren’t close my eyes for months, I kept seeing his snarling face next to mine, like it was the day he tightened his hands around my neck. Recently I’d started to sleep again. Only an hour here and there, but it was something. Then Sir John Hillary called me into his office and asked me to tell him about O’Shaughnessy and what he had done to me. He knew already of course, but said he needed to hear about the attack from me.’ Eve clutched Ena’s arm. ‘You know, he almost killed me. The doctor told me if I hadn’t lost consciousness and fallen to the floor when I did, he’d have killed me.’ Eve let out a shuddering sob. ‘And she, Helen Crowther, according to O’Shaughnessy, murdered McKenzie. How could she do that? She had worked with him all those years as his personal assistant and she killed him when he was in hospital.’

  ‘I know. I’m so sorry, Eve.’

  ‘Going over it again this morning brought it all back to me.’ Eve put her hand up to her mouth. ‘Seeing that evil creature standing there smirking at me frightened me to death. And this afternoon I shall have to go through it all again when his lawyer cross-examines me.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation, what you said this morning should have been enough to send O’Shaughnessy to the gallows. Witnesses have to undergo cross-examination, it’s the law, but I think everyone knows he’s guilty – even his lawyer.’ Ena took hold of Eve’s hands. ‘You were very strong this morning.’

  ‘I didn’t feel strong.’

  ‘Believe me, you were. And you must be strong this afternoon too. O’Shaughnessy’s lawyer will try to confuse you, twist what you say, make you out to be the liar – as he did me – but stick to your guns. Try to stay calm. Don’t let him fluster you.’