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“Move on, Mr. Booth Watson,” said the judge firmly.

“Mr. Faulkner, do you have any explanation as to how twelve grams of cocaine ended up in a statue at your home?”

“None whatsoever. I refuse to believe that Superintendent Lamont or one of his men could have been involved in something as corrupt as planting drugs in the home of an innocent person, with the intention of securing a false conviction.” He paused. “For a second time.”

The judge was just about to intervene again when Faulkner added, “Mind you…” and paused again.

“Mind you?” said Booth Watson.

“I was shocked that when Superintendent Lamont arrested me, he said, ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.’”

The judge waited for the uproar to die down, before he said, “Do you have any proof, Mr. Faulkner, that Superintendent Lamont said those words? Or are you just relying on your memory?”

“M’lud, I made a written note at the time of the arrest,” interjected Booth Watson. “Ah, yes, here it is. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for some time.’ Mr. Faulkner did get one word wrong.”

The judge wrote the words down before saying, “Carry on, Mr. Booth Watson.”

“Thank you, m’lud. Mr. Faulkner, you do not dispute that the police found two marijuana cigarettes and an Ecstasy tablet during the two hours they spent ransacking your home.”

“That’s correct. They found the Ecstasy tablet in the kitchen and the joints in the stables. Two members of staff admitted that they were theirs, and I had no choice but to let them go.”

“Finally, Mr. Faulkner, can I ask what your attitude is to people who indulge in the use of illegal drugs?”

“I feel sorry for them. They’re often sad, helpless individuals who are in desperate need of medical help. But when it comes to the dealers, I consider them vile, despicable people, and a stain on our society. They deserve to rot in hell.”

“No more questions, m’lud.”

“Thank you, Mr. Booth Watson. I think this would be an ideal time to take a break. Let’s resume at two o’clock, when I shall call on Ms. Warwick to conduct her cross-examination of this witness. All rise.”

21

“Do you think I could ask Dad to take my place?” said Grace, as she collapsed onto the nearest seat.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Clare. “Not least because he’d refuse, and would never take you seriously again.”

“But you saw how Faulkner handled Booth Watson from the witness box. He was so assured and self-confident, and he had an answer to every one of his questions.”

“Of course he did. He knew every question that was coming, even before Booth Watson had opened his mouth, so it wasn’t difficult for him to have a well-rehearsed, apparently off-the-cuff, remark ready to impress the jury.”

“But if he already knows about the smoking gun…”

“If he did, Booth Watson would have pulled the trigger this morning and blown a hole right through your cross-examination.”

Grace was about to respond when her father walked into the corridor, clearly looking for his junior.

“I’m going to ask him to take my place,” she whispered.

“We should be heading back in to court,” said Sir Julian. “Everyone’s waiting for you. Even your mother’s sitting in the gallery.”

“Grace has just been telling me how much she’s looking forward to the challenge,” said Clare.

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Sir Julian, “although one shouldn’t be overconfident on these occasions. First time at the Bailey is always a bit of an ordeal, but once you’re on your feet…” Grace didn’t move. “Still, we’d better get going. Can’t afford to keep the judge waiting.”

When Grace stood up, her legs almost gave way. Clare quickly took her arm and led her slowly but firmly back into the arena.

“Do you think Faulkner’s as nervous as I am?” she asked, as Mr. Justice Baverstock entered the court and took his place.

“No,” said Clare. “Which is why you’ll kill him.”

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