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Once the court had settled, the judge looked expectantly down at the Crown’s bench. Grace glanced at her father, but he didn’t move. Booth Watson looked puzzled, while Faulkner glowered at her from the witness box.
“Stand up!” whispered Clare sharply.
Grace rose unsteadily to her feet. It didn’t help that everyone in the courtroom was staring at her. She looked down at her carefully prepared list of questions, opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“When you’re ready, Ms. Warwick,” said the judge, giving her an encouraging smile. But still nothing.
“Get on with it!” Clare whispered from behind.
“Mr. Faulkner,” she managed. “I won’t be keeping you for too long—” a leaf she’d taken out of Booth Watson’s book—“but I would like to go into a little more detail about your meeting with Mr. Heath on May the seventeenth, when, at your request, he went to your home to deliver a box of the finest Royal Beluga caviar.”
Booth Watson clung on to the lapels of his gown, a prearranged signal that his client should remain silent.
“For which you paid him eight hundred pounds.”
“That is correct,” said Faulkner, feeling on safe ground.
“And indeed, Mr. Heath confirmed that amount when he testified on the first day of this trial.”
“He did indeed,” said Faulkner, defiantly. “So, are you now finally going to admit that he was telling the truth?”
“When it comes to the eight hundred pounds, I accept that you were both telling the truth, but before I return to Mr. Heath’s testimony, may I take you back to another witness, Dr. Ruth Lewis, who gave evidence yesterday.”
“The government’s lickspittle who was speaking on behalf of the Crown?” said Faulkner, ignoring Booth Watson, who had warned him to keep his answers to the barest statements of fact and make sure not to insult anyone.
“Dr. Lewis told the court that the street price of twelve grams of ninety-two percent pure cocaine would also be around eight hundred pounds. Didn’t you find that a bit of a coincidence?”
“No, I did not. Once she knew the amount I’d paid Heath, she conveniently used it to bolster her case. Now that’s what I would call a coincidence, if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s working for you.”
That stone having flown harmlessly over Faulkner’s shoulder, Grace selected another one from her heavy pouch.
“Are you suggesting, Mr. Faulkner, that Dr. Lewis made up the figure of eight hundred pounds in order to mislead the court?”
“Your words, not mine,” said Faulkner, looking rather pleased with himself.
“Then I’m bound to ask, if you doubted her veracity at the time, why your distinguished counsel didn’t dispute her findings? In fact, as I’m sure you will recall, Mr. Booth Watson chose not to cross-examine Dr. Lewis, which would rather suggest that he accepted her evidence without question.”
Booth Watson was now tugging his lapels furiously, causing Clare to scribble another note, which she quickly passed to Sir Julian. He hadn’t noticed what Booth Watson had been up to until then, but immediately turned to stare pointedly at defense counsel, who reluctantly folded his arms.
“Is it also another coincidence that twelve grams was the amount of pure cocaine the police found inside the statue at your home?”
“He knew the exact amount to plant that could be bought for eight hundred pounds,” said Faulkner, pointing at Lamont.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Faulkner. Mr. Heath had left your home with the money before anyone else knew how much was involved—except you.”
“As I said earlier, Ms. Warwick, I can’t be sure of the exact sum I paid Mr. Heath.”
This time Faulkner hadn’t ducked in time, but he stared defiantly at junior counsel, as if the blow hadn’t landed.
“Mr. Faulkner, a twenty-pound note was found on the desk in your study.”
“Which Dr. Lewis confirmed had no traces of cocaine on it, if I remember correctly.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest otherwise, Mr. Faulkner,” said Grace. “However, I’m glad you agree that it is part of the evid
ence already accepted by both sides, and, indeed, your signature is on the list of items taken from your home by the police on the night of your arrest. But let’s be sure, shall we? M’lud, may I ask the defendant to study the note in question and confirm that it was the one found on his desk?”
The judge nodded and the clerk extracted a small cellophane bag from the bundle of evidence, walked across to the box and handed it to the defendant.
