DIAMOND DUST
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1
The prisoner stared at the jury as they filed in. Every one of them avoided eye contact.
The foreman was asked for the verdict and gave it.
A few stifled cries were heard.
Peter Diamond of Bath CID, watching from the back of the court, displayed no emotion, though he felt plenty. Unseen by anyone, his fists tightened, his pulses quickened and his throat warmed as if he'd taken a sip of brandy. This was a moment to savour.
'And is that the verdict of you all?'
'It is.'
'But I'm innocent!' the man guilty of murder shouted, his hands outstretched in appeal. 'I didn't do it. I was stitched up.'
Yes, stitched up well and truly, Diamond thought, in a Pink Brothers shirt and a fine Italian suit that didn't fool the jury, thank God. Any minute now the lowlife inside those clothes will say something nakedly uncouth.
