A Game of Proof

in no time. I’m going to give you another injection. You just look up at the ugly policeman who’s come to protect you.’

As Sharon turned her head the oxygen mask slipped. ‘Harry?’

‘Don’t worry, Sharon, you’re going to be OK. We know who did it.’

‘Sean?’

‘Yeah. We’ll get him, don’t worry. Here, breathe this.’

Holding the bottle with his left hand, he replaced the oxygen mask with his right. She took a few more deep breaths, then pulled it away herself.

‘Harry … my kid. Did he …?’

‘No, she’s fine, Sharon. Just fine. She’s with a policewoman now. He never touched her.’

‘Thank God. And … Wayne?’

‘He’s at school, isn’t he? We’ll send someone to pick him up.’

She nodded, put the mask back and took several long, shaky breaths. Harry swayed precariously on his seat as the ambulance, siren wailing, zigzagged through a set of red lights. She took off the mask again and tried a faint smile, her lips almost as pale as her teeth.

‘You should try this, Harry. Good stuff.’

‘Don’t talk too much now, Sharon,’ the paramedic warned. ‘Save your strength.’

But the adrenaline injections seemed to have revived her. She breathed from the mask a couple more times, then said: ‘He was the one who raped me before. Not Gary. He told me.’

‘What, Sean? He was wearing the hood?’

She closed her eyes, then nodded faintly. ‘That’s not all … he did … other things …’

The effort seemed to be weakening her. She closed her eyes. The paramedic replaced the mask firmly over her face. ‘Come on now, Sharon. You can tell him all this later, when you’re better. You just lie still and save your strength, okay? Breathe in, there’s a good girl …’

Harry glanced out of the window. They were crossing Lendal Bridge, weaving down the centre of the road through the traffic which was climbing the pavements to get out of their way. They should reach the hospital in three or four minutes. Sharon’s eyes were closed. She seemed paler than before.

He glanced questioningly at the paramedic. The man shook his head and began to unwrap a third pre-packed needle, larger than the others. He jabbed it into her chest, underneath the heart. She shuddered, then opened her eyes.

‘That’s a girl, Sharon. Come on now, love. Keep breathing. You’re doing great.’

She took two shuddering breaths, her eyes wide and shocked. Then she turned to Harry and said something. ‘Hiiklljjasssminhurshtooo.’

‘What’s that? Sharon, I can’t hear.’

Harry reached to take off the mask but the paramedic held his arm. ‘She can’t talk now. You’ll kill her.’

Sharon’s eyes stared at his, wide and pleading. Harry shoved the man’s arm aside.

‘Just a couple of words. What is it, Sharon?’

‘He killed … Jasmine … Hurst too.’

The words were like a whisper, scarcely louder than a breath. Her eyes closed abruptly. The paramedic clamped the mask over her face. ‘Come on, Sharon, keep breathing. You can do it, Sharon, breathe deeply now. We’re nearly there. You’re doing great.’

The breaths came fainter and fainter and seemed to Harry to stop altogether. The ambulance drew up outside Accident and Emergency and in an instant the driver was round opening the back doors. They got the wheels of the stretcher down and hurried Sharon along the corridor into the emergency theatre, Harry running alongside still holding the bottle for the drip until a nurse took it from him.

He waited outside with the paramedics for a while, thinking of what he should tell Terry. Then a doctor came out. There was blood on his white coat. He shook his head sadly.

‘Dead on arrival, I’m afraid. If she’d lasted a few minutes longer, perhaps …’

The paramedic glared at Harry. ‘I told you,’ he said.

‘How long does it take?’ Simon asked.

Sitting on the bench in the cell beside him, Lucy shrugged. ‘How long is a piece of string? Half an hour, if they all agree at the start. Three hours, four — a day even, if they don’t.’

‘If they don’t agree I’m free, aren’t I?’

‘Not necessarily.’ Sarah paused from her pacing. ‘If they can’t agree after what the judge thinks is a reasonable time, he’ll ask for a majority verdict. Eleven to one or ten to two. So if only three people think you’re innocent …’ She gave him a small, tight smile.

‘You think we’ve lost, don’t you?’ Simon muttered, avoiding her eyes.

‘The truth is I don’t know, Simon. I really don’t. Anyway what I think doesn’t matter any more. There’s nothing we can do about it now.’

‘Christ!’ Simon strode to the door, and banged his forehead against it, softly. ‘This is the worst part of all, this waiting. They’re deciding about my life, in there!’

‘A lot of them were following your mother’s speech closely, Simon,’ Lucy said helpfully. ‘Especially the younger ones …’

‘And what about the old bat with the necklace? She hates me, you could see it in her eyes!’ Simon swung round to face them. ‘And those two old farts next to her. They’d have me shot, if they could!’

‘You can’t always tell from looks, Simon. Sometimes …’

There was a rattle of keys in the door. The three of them froze. A warder came in.

‘Are they back?’ Sarah asked.

‘No, not yet madam. It’s the judge — he’s called for you. Urgent, he says.’

‘Oh? Right.’ She glanced at the others apologetically. ‘I’ll be back.’

When Harry walked into the Crown Court he wondered if Churchill would be there. He’d phoned Terry half an hour ago and learned that Sean and Gary had escaped. The patrol car had lost sight of them and they could be anywhere. Terry had put out an all car alert.

‘How’s Sharon?’ Terry had asked.

‘Dead on arrival, sir, I’m afraid. But she said something, in the ambulance.’

When Harry had explained what he had heard, Terry had insisted he go straight to the court to tell the judge. Harry was worried — this was direct interference in DCI Churchill’s case. Shouldn’t they consult him first?

‘Just tell the judge, Harry,’ Terry had insisted. ‘That’s an order. If it’s wrong, it’s my head on the block, not yours.’

Nonetheless, Harry did not relish bumping into Churchill on his way. He imagined how the conversation might go.

‘Hi, Harry, what are you doing here today, old son?’

‘Just come to wreck your case, sir, that’s all. Won’t take a minute.’

‘Oh, okay, fine, go ahead. Use my name when you apply for promotion, okay?’

Outside court he saw Churchill in conversation with a tall, rustic-looking barrister in wig and gown and a fat, middle-aged solicitor, whom Harry took to be the prosecution team. Luckily, Churchill had his back to the entrance. Harry strode swiftly past, located the court clerk, and a few minutes later was telling his story to the judge in chambers.

Judge Mookerjee sat back in his leather chair, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on his desk. ‘You’re quite sure of this, detective constable?’

‘Perfectly, sir. It happened less than an hour ago. My superior officer ordered me to bring you the information immediately.’

‘Quite so, quite so. Then I suppose I must disclose this to counsel. Though whether it can make a difference, at this stage … Wait there, detective constable, will you?’

He picked up the phone and dialled.

‘It seems to me that it makes all the difference in the world, my lord,’ Sarah insisted. We all know there’s been a series of unexplained rapes and murders in York, and now we have evidence that a man who has murdered again, this very day, has admitted to them all. Including the murder of which my son stands accused. You must stop this trial now. Any conviction in these new circumstances would be unsafe.’