others are giving evidence.'
'Thank you, Mrs Cooper,' Alison said and dithered for a moment as if she wanted to say more.
Jenny gave her a look. 'What is it?'
'Nothing.' Alison turned to the door.
'You've not been speaking to Dave Pironi?'
'No ... I haven't, honestly.'
'But?'
'I shouldn't be giving you my opinions. He'll give an account of himself. I just hope that worm from MI5 does the same.' She hurried away before Jenny could push her further.
But there was nothing more Jenny needed to know: Alison was convinced that whatever shortcomings there had been in Pironi's investigation were not down to him. Like all good policemen he'd only been obeying orders. He wasn't brave enough to say so in court, so he'd filtered the message back through his old friend. Spineless bastard, Jenny thought, and cowardly with it. Being locked in the same room as McAvoy all morning must have been hell for him, like seeing his conscience in human form.
Madog stuttered through the oath and fidgeted with his glasses as Jenny led him through a few preliminary questions, a number of which she had to repeat. After several attempts she established that he was fifty-nine years old and had worked as a toll collector on the Severn Bridge for twenty- three years.
'I appreciate it's a long time ago, Mr Madog, but can you tell us if you remember witnessing anything unusual on the night of 28 June 2002?'
He glanced apprehensively at the lawyers, then back at Jenny. 'The black car, you mean?'
'If you could just take us through what you have already said in your statement.'
'Well it was late, about eleven at night, like,' he began uncertainly. 'I was in the booth there when a black car pulled up. There were two white fellas in the front and two Asian lads in the back.'
His answer was met with a flurry of whispers amongst the lawyers. Martha Denton and Havilland turned to confer with their respective solicitors, then briefly formed into a larger, collective huddle. Alun Rhys, however, did not react.
Jenny said, 'What kind of vehicle was it?'
'A big seven-seater type. A Toyota I think. A black one.'
'Can you describe the occupants in any more detail?'
With a little prompting, Madog limped through a description of the crew-cut driver, the man with the ponytail and the two frightened passengers cowering in the back seat. During this, Jenny noticed Mr Jamal's eyes widen in alarm, his resolute composure giving way to an expression of outrage.
Jenny said, 'You collect tolls from hundreds of vehicles every shift. What was it about this one that drew your attention?'
'The driver had an attitude, you know. No please or thank you, virtually snatched the change out of my hand. And one of the lads in the back looked at me in a way I couldn't forget. He had a beard like, but there was something about him - he looked much younger, like a kid.'
'Usher, could you show Mr Madog photographs of Nazim Jamal and Rafi Hassan?'
Alison left her table at the side of the room and took two large photographs across to the witness. He peered at them both before nodding. 'Looks like them.' He pointed to the picture on the left. 'That'd be the one I noticed.'
Alison checked the printed label on the back of the photograph. 'That's Nazim Jamal, ma'am.'
Mr Jamal was looking directly at Jenny now, horrified and expectant, waiting for the pieces to fall into place.
'Did you ever see the occupants of this vehicle again, Mr Madog?'
'I'm afraid I did . . .'
Still, Jenny noticed, Alun Rhys sat tight, showing not the slightest flicker of surprise. It was as if he knew what was coming next.
'Go on, Mr Madog.'
Battling his failing nerves, Madog managed to recount his encounter with the ponytailed passenger the following Saturday. He told the jury how the man had sprayed paint on his granddaughter's hair, and how he hadn't even looked angry as he was doing it. He showed no feeling at all, Madog said.
'Did you tell the police about this attack on your granddaughter?'
'Didn't dare. I wasn't going to put her at risk, was I?'
'Have you seen this man since?'
Madog shook his head.
Jenny's stomach turned over. She glanced over at Alison, who gave a slight shrug. Madog had been sitting in the same room as Tathum for at least fifteen minutes before he came to the witness box. He must surely have remembered his face, even if he was now shorn of the ponytail. She could call Tathum into the court and ask Madog to identify him, but it presented a huge risk. The higher courts frowned on courtroom identifications - the circumstances in which they were made were considered artificial and dangerously pressured - and were prone to ruling them inadmissible. But unless Madog did single Tathum out, a vital link in the chain of evidence would be broken.
She decided to bide her time. She would ask Madog to remain in the hall after stepping down and recall him to the witness box after he'd watched Tathum give evidence.
Jenny invited counsel to cross-examine. Havilland deferred to Martha Denton, who rose to address Madog with a faintly amused smile.
'You claim to remember the details of a single car and its occupants the best part of a decade after the alleged event.'
'Not exactly . . .' he glanced to Jenny. 'A fella asked me about it after, must have been the following July.'
'Oh, really? And who was this?'
'Mr Dean, I think his name was. Said he was a private investigator.'
'An investigator for whom?'
'I can help you there, Miss Denton,' Jenny said. 'Mr Dean was instructed by Mrs Amira Jamal's then solicitor.'
'I see.' Martha Denton's instructing solicitor tugged at her elbow and whispered to her. She smiled, then turned accusingly back to the witness. 'And this solicitor would be Mr Alec McAvoy? A man who in December of 2002 was imprisoned for an offence of attempting to pervert the course of justice? So presumably Mr McAvoy was in prison at the time?'
'I didn't know anything about that,' Madog said.
Wishing she had kept her mouth shut, Jenny said, 'You'll be hearing from Mr McAvoy in due course. You can address that issue with him directly.'
'I certainly will, ma'am. Did this investigator take a written statement from you, Mr Madog?'
'I didn't like to say anything at the time - because of my granddaughter.'
'Why did he come to you of all people?'
'He knew what kind of car he was looking for and that there would have been a couple of Asian lads in it. He wanted to know if any of the toll collectors had seen it.'
'Ah. So he specifically asked you whether you had seen a large black vehicle containing two white men and two Asian youths?'
'He did.'
'Did he pay you, Mr Madog?'
'No. Nothing.'
'And did he suggest the incident with your granddaughter and the paint?'
Madog shook his head firmly. 'I never told him about that.'
'I see. So when did you first recount that alleged incident?'
'Last week, when I was asked to make a statement.'
Martha Denton adopted a puzzled expression. 'Let's be absolutely clear about this, Mr Madog. You claim to
