another kind of memory — a detail, elusive and minute. He thought perhaps it was something Katya had said when she’d given evidence from this same witness box, staring over so angrily at her former boyfriend in the dock, convinced of his guilt. And yet he couldn’t be sure — maybe it was just his imagination, feeding on the intensity of his desire to find a key to unlock the case when perhaps there was no key to be found. The uncertainty made him nervous, and, picking up his hat, he headed for the door.
Back at the house a letter was waiting for Trave on the doormat. The envelope was typed, official-looking, and he knew what it contained even before he’d ripped it open.
Dear Mr Trave,
The Chief Constable regrets to inform you that it has been decided to terminate your employment with the Oxfordshire Police forthwith in the light of a finding of gross dereliction of duty following the hearing last Saturday. You have fourteen days to appeal…
Trave didn’t bother reading any further. He screwed up the letter and threw it across the room and then proceeded to get as drunk on neat whisky as he’d ever been before in his entire life.
He woke up on the sofa the next day with the morning sun burning in his eyes. He had a blinding headache, and the telephone was ringing insistently in his ear, filling his head with yet more pain. It was Creswell.
‘Did you get the letter?’ asked the superintendent.
‘Yeah,’ said Trave, remembering with a feeling of renewed sickness the reason why he’d drunk himself into a stupor the night before.
‘I’m sorry, Bill,’ said Creswell, sounding genuinely upset. ‘I did my best, but they wouldn’t listen to me.’
‘I know. I didn’t think they would.’
‘Look, you have to appeal. I’ll try again. Dismissing you isn’t fair. It’s too harsh.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Trave. ‘I don’t think it’ll do any good. It’s cracking this case that would change things…’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ said Creswell, sounding angry now. ‘It’s your pig-headed obsession with Titus Osman that led to all this. If you’d been a bit more contrite…’
‘But I’ve never been much good at that, have I?’ said Trave. ‘Look, sir, I appreciate you calling, and I know you’re trying to help, but I’m not feeling at my best right now.’
‘Okay, I understand. But you’ll think about what I’ve said, won’t you? About not giving up?’
‘Yes,’ said Trave. ‘Of course I will.’
But Trave stopped thinking about the appeal as soon as he’d got off the phone. He was touched by the superintendent’s concern, but now he had other things to worry about. Something had been on the edge of his mind when he woke up, and he needed to concentrate before it slipped away. He went upstairs and showered in ice-cold water until his head was clear of alcohol and self-pity, got dressed in a pair of old gardening trousers and a patched jersey, and made a pot of the strongest coffee he could tolerate. He drank down a cup, and then, with a second in his hand, he finally sat back down with the transcript of David Swain’s first trial across his knees. It was dog-eared now, the pages crumpled from overuse. Trave turned to Katya’s evidence and began to read:
Evidence of Katya Osman
Witness is sworn
PROSECUTION COUNSEL, MR ARNE: Please tell the court who you are and where you live.
WITNESS: I am Katya Osman and I live with my uncle at Blackwater Hall. It’s near Oxford.
COUNSEL: Do you know the defendant sitting over there? (Counsel points toward the dock.)
WITNESS: Yes, we used to be friends.
COUNSEL: Friends?
WITNESS: He was my boyfriend for a year, but then I broke up with him after I met Ethan.
COUNSEL: Ethan Mendel?
WITNESS: Yes; he came to stay with my uncle last year. We fell in love. And David hated us for it. He sent me letters — horrible, threatening letters. I’ve got them here — six of them. I got the last one a few days before he killed Ethan. I brought them with me(Witness produces bundle of handwritten letters.)
COUNSEL: My lord, these will be exhibits 17 through 22. Copies have been made for the jury, and with your lordship’s leave the witness will now read them into the evidence.
JUDGE: Very well, Mr Arne.
Trave impatiently turned the pages of the transcript, looking for the resumption of Katya’s evidence. It was what Katya had to say that he was interested in, not David Swain’s childish, impassioned rants.
COUNSEL: The defendant refers in his letters to meeting you at ‘the boathouse’. Please tell us where that is, Miss Osman.
WITNESS: It’s by the lake. You get to it across the lawn and along a path through the woods. No one goes there.
COUNSEL: But you did with Mr Swain. Why?
WITNESS: Because no one goes there. My uncle didn’t approve of David, and so I couldn’t see him in the house.
COUNSEL: Never?
WITNESS: I took him there once when my uncle was away. Otherwise we met at the boathouse or in his room in Oxford.
COUNSEL: How often did you meet Mr Swain at the boathouse?
WITNESS: Lots of times.
COUNSEL: And how did Mr Swain get there if he wanted to avoid your uncle seeing him?
WITNESS: There’s a place on the road before you get to the main gate. You can get over the fence and walk down the path to the lake. That’s how.
COUNSEL: Did you use the boathouse after you ended your relationship with Mr Swain?
WITNESS: With Ethan you mean?
COUNSEL: Yes.
WITNESS: Yes, we did. I liked that it was our place, our secret. It was romantic with the lake and everything.
COUNSEL: I understand. Did you ever see the defendant at or near the boathouse after you ended your relationship with him?
WITNESS: Yes, once. It was in the evening. Ethan was writing something, and I went outside to look at the sunset. David was in the trees further up the path, watching. It was horrible, creepy. I never saw him again after that — until now.
COUNSEL: When was this?
WITNESS: The third of April — three days before Easter.
COUNSEL: How can you be so sure?
WITNESS: It upset me, and so I wrote about it in my diary. It helps to get things out of my system.
COUNSEL: What did the defendant do when you saw him?
WITNESS: He ran away back towards the road. I could hear him in the undergrowth.
COUNSEL: Did you tell Mr Mendel?
WITNESS: Yes. He was angry at first, worried. He wanted to go and see David about it, but I didn’t want him to. I thought it would make things worse. And so he didn’t. We stayed away from the boathouse for a while after that, but then we went back because it was beautiful and it was our place and David had no right to try and take it away from us. (Witness breaks down, distressed.)
COUNSEL: I’d like to move forward now to the period immediately leading up to Mr Mendel’s murder. What was the state of your relationship with Mr Mendel at that time?
WITNESS: We were in love; we were happy, although Ethan was preoccupied with something. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. He went away to Europe for a week. He didn’t tell me where he was going, but I assumed he was going to see his family in Antwerp. And then on the day he came back, I was out shopping in Oxford with Jana and so I never saw him. (Witness breaks down again, distressed.) I don’t know why he sent that note to David. Perhaps it was because of David’s letters. Ethan knew they upset me; he knew I was scared. I wanted them to stop.
COUNSEL: I want to show you the knife, the murder weapon — it’s exhibit three, my lord. Have you seen it before, Miss Osman?
