waiting.’
‘She stood by me again, sir, she said they were out to kill me because they — the villagers — believed I had done the killing. There were many men trying to push the wagon over, I took her aboard the wagon because I was afeared for her life.’
‘Are you saying Miss Jones’ own people were turning against her?’
‘Yes, sir, they knew she’d been with me, and that lad was dead, and in the Romany way …’
Smethurst closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The court was in an uproar.
The judge called for a lunch break, and everyone filed out of the room. Freedom was led down to the cells. When he was brought back after lunch, Henshaw cross-examined him for the rest of the afternoon.
That evening Evelyne waited for Freda’s usual visit. She came into the hotel room and promptly burst into tears. ‘Oh, I feel so sorry’for him, Evie, he looks so alone, so alone … And that Mr Henshaw twisted him so, made everything he said sound so bad … he asks one question and leads it into another, and gets Freedom confused.’
Evelyne grew more and more nervous as Miss Freda described how cold and arrogant Mr Henshaw was. They both jumped with fright as someone pounded on the door, and they heard Sir Charles’ voice demanding admission.
‘Now look here, this isn’t on. You know you mustn’t talk to the witness, Miss Freda. Now please leave instantly … go along, out, out — and make sure no one sees you as you leave.’
With a fearful look at Evelyne, Freda hurried out. Sir Charles closed the door after her. ‘I shouldn’t be here either.’
‘How do you think it’s going, sir?’ ‘Not good, not good at all — they’re making him look like an oaf. Er … look here, gel, you and this fellow … er, you have been telling us the truth, haven’t you?’ ‘About what, sir?’
‘Well, this chap Henshaw’s pretty sharp, and he’s picked up that perhaps there’s more to your so-called “friendship” with this fella than meets the eye.’
Evelyne’s hands tightened in her lap. She swallowed hard. ‘If I had lied to you, I would not get on to that witness stand and swear on the Holy Bible to a lie. Everything I said to you, and Mr Smethurst, was God’s truth.’
‘Ah, yes, quite … well, I think you’ll be called soon. I suppose Smethurst will talk to you before then. I’d best be off… Goodnight.’ ‘Goodnight, Sir Charles.’
Evelyne lay down, hardly able to believe that after all she had been through Sir Charles had to ask her again. Her heart pounded and she began to worry. Mr Henshaw sounded even more threatening than Miss Freda had made out. He had obviously sown a seed of doubt in Sir Charles’ mind.
In the morning Freedom was led, handcuffed, from the jail to the waiting police wagon. A small crowd outside hurled rotting vegetables and abuse, and spat in Freedom’s face as he stared at them between the wagon’s bars. They raised their fists and gave chase as it moved off. Most of them then went to join the dole queues, satisfied that they were at least better off than the gyppo. Poor they may be, but they were free.
Freedom touched a slight swelling on his right cheek.
He had been taunted so much at breakfast — not by the prisoners but by the warders — that he had lost his temper and hurled his porridge at a particularly unpleasant warder who took delight in needling him constantly. He had made lewd gestures and implied that Freedom and his kind were up to no good. Freedom was beaten as he was dragged back to his cell. The warder, still dripping cold porridge, shouted, ‘They’ll hang you sure as I’m standing here, and, by Christ, I’ll pull the rope meself, you bastard!’
The wagon bounced and rocked over the cobbled side streets on the way to court. Freedom closed his eyes, breathed the fresh air into his lungs. As they drove through the back gates of the court yet another small group of people pelted the wagon. But a few girls stood by the gates waving flowers, calling his name. One blew him a kiss, and got a severe wallop from a man for behaving like a ‘gyppo bitch’.
Smethurst was very angry. Freedom was looking rough, his suit crumpled, and there was a bruise forming on his cheek. He handed Freedom his own greasy comb and told him to do something with his hair. Clean it might be, but long strands hung loose from the leather thong. Smethurst felt sorry for losing his temper. ‘The women in the gallery are on your side, lad. I wish we had a few on the jury. They’ll be tossing flowers at you before the trial’s over. Apparently you resemble that film actor chappie, Valentino.’
‘I never been to no picture house, sir.’
An usher gave Smethurst the nod that court was about to sit, and he rushed to his chambers to throw on his wig and gown. Henshaw was already waiting, spick and span, checking his appearance in the mirror. ‘So it’s the big day — your girl’s on the stand? Should be interesting,’
‘You get copies of those two statements? From Lord Carlton and Captain Collins?’
‘I did, old chap, I did. Personally I doubt if they’ll help, you’d need the prince himself to step on the stand to get your chap off this one.’
‘We’ll see, we’ll see — don’t count your eggs yet. Want a toffee?’
Henshaw smiled a refusal as the judge entered, muttering about the rift-raff outside the court. Smethurst joked with the judge. ‘They say my client’s the spitting image of this movie star, fella called Rudolph Valentino.’ The judge snorted, ‘Well, for the Lord’s sake I hope the press don’t pick that up, the wife’U be here next. She’s seen Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse twice.’ Smethurst nearly swallowed his toffee the wrong way as the judge swept out. ”Four Horsemen of the what?’
Henshaw laughed, checked he had his glasses and then winked at Smethurst. ‘Old boy’s wife’s a bit of a lady, so I’ve heard. Well, come on, let’s get on with the show.’
Evelyne was driven to court in Sir Charles’ Rolls-Royce. She was shaking with nerves and kept licking her lips because her mouth felt so dry.
At the court they were surrounded by newspaper reporters pushing forward to speak to Sir Charles. The flashes and bangs of the photographers’ lights made Evelyne jump.
‘May I ask you, Sir Charles, what your interest in this case might be? Please, Sir Charles, just a few words?’
‘I simply want justice done, that is all. Freedom Stubbs is an innocent man who has already spent too long in jail.’
Two police officers pushed the reporters back, allowing Evelyne and Sir Charles to enter. The massive marbled reception area of the Law Courts was daunting, and Evelyne would have found it awe-inspiring if she had not been so nervous. Voices echoed and people rushed hither and thither. She was thankful to see the familiar figure of Smethurst striding towards them.
‘Ah, you’re here, good, good — curtain up in about five minutes.’
‘Good God, man, can’t you afford a better wig, the tail’s over your left ear, looks dreadful.’
Smethurst turned his wig round, only to leave the tail sticking out over his right ear. An usher was waiting to lead Evelyne round to the waiting area. Sir Charles went ahead into the courtroom as Smethurst, his gown floating around him, walked with Evelyne to a long bench.
‘Now just keep calm, and remember, don’t let Henshaw ruffle you. He’ll try his damnedest. Shouldn’t be too long a wait, and may I say you look charming.’
He strode off before she could reply or thank him for his compliment. She could see what looked like food stains down the back of his gown.
She became aware of a man scrutinizing her from the doorway. His cold eyes made her shiver, his drawn face was set and hard.
Henshaw detected how nervous she was, and knew instantly she would be putty in his hands. He followed Smethurst into the court.
One hour ticked by, then another. Evelyne paced up and down the marbled corridor. She walked to the far end and peered round the corner. There was another bench, with a number of men sitting on it, some with cigarettes in their cupped hands. Above them hung a ‘No Smoking’ sign in bold red letters. Evelyne returned to her bench and sat down again.
In the courtroom Smethurst was in fine form, his face flushed a deep red, his big hands waving in the air. He called for the defendant, Freedom Stubbs, to be brought into the dock.
The raised voices from the court made Evelyne’s nerves even worse. Suddenly the double doors were thrown open and an usher called her name. She dropped her handbag in her haste to follow him into the court.
