Bargainer still serene.
'My apologies, Mr Buckle – for the delay,' she resumed. 'I have been asked to come quickly to the point, and I shall. Is it a fact that Anton Coventry, known as Andy, is an associate of yours?'
Buckle's hands gripped the ledge of the witness box. 'I've met a man of that name, if that's what you mean.'
'I mean a little more than that. Have you entertained him at your house?'
'Well, yes.'
'He swam in your pool on at least one occasion?'
'Yes.'
'Doubtless you've heard that he is at present in custody on several charges, including offences relating to the supply of cocaine?'
'I read something about it in the paper.' Buckle was unconvincing. It was too late now to distance himself from his odious friend.
'Did you know that Andy Coventry is alleged to have supplied cocaine to the late Mrs Jackman?'
Buckle was silent.
'Come now. It is public knowledge, is it not?' Lilian Bargainer probed.
'Why ask me, then?' said Buckle.
'Why not admit it, then?' she rapped back. 'We're getting closer to the truth, aren't we? The whole truth that you promised to tell, Mr Buckle. I put it to you that you came under police suspicion as an importer of illegal substances. My client's trip to Southampton at your behest to collect the teddy bears was just a charade, a diversionary tactic to spike their guns, was it not? How interesting that when she returned to your house at the end of the day you were entertaining, among others, Andy Coventry.'
Sir Job rose to protest that the charges against Coventry were sub judice and the imputation was misleading, and Mrs Bargainer withdrew her last comment.
'But you agree with my account of the facts?' she pressed Buckle.
'The whole thing is irrelevant,' he said without conviction. 'I'm here to talk about the car.'
Mrs Bargainer smiled. 'Very well, let's talk about the car. The Mercedes 190E 2.6 Automatic that you bought when Mrs Didrikson joined Realbrew Ales. You bought two cars of that model for the company at that time, didn't you?'
'Yes.'
'One for your personal use and the other for Mrs Didrikson's?'
'Yes.'
'Good.' She beamed at Buckle; he didn't smile back. 'I'm going to ask about the use you made of the cars, notably on Monday, 11 September and Tuesday, 10 October last year. Am I making myself clear, Mr Buckle? The first date was that of Mrs Jackman's murder. We have already heard from you that Mrs Didrikson did not report for work that day, so presumably you had to drive yourself about?'
'Yes.'
'And ever since Tuesday, 10 October, you have been without a chauffeur, because that's the day Mrs Didrikson was taken in for questioning by the police. When were you informed?'
'I can't recall.'
'Chief Inspector Wigfull testified that he phoned you between eight and nine that evening, 10 October.'
Buckle shrugged. 'Fair enough.'
'I must insist on a better answer than that. Do you recall being telephoned?'
'All right. It was some time that evening. I didn't check my watch.'
'It's important, you see, because there was a delay of some twelve hours before the Mercedes Mrs Didrikson drove was collected for forensic examination. The car stood outside her house for twelve hours. When it was collected, we now know, the impossible was shown to have happened. The scientists proved with their genetic fingerprinting that the body of Geraldine Jackman had been in the boot of that car. I say it was impossible because Mrs Didrikson has told me so, and I believe her.'
Buckle stared rigidly ahead like a guardsman being bawled at by a drill sergeant. Actually Lilian Bargainer had not raised her voice one decibel.
The skill of this cross-examination was profoundly satisfying to Peter Diamond. Compelled to hear his own deductions voiced by proxy, he was locked in to every word the barrister uttered.
'I put it to you that the impossible can only be explained this way. When you got the call from Chief Inspector Wigfull, you decided on a plan to confuse the police and divert suspicion from yourself. For it was you, wasn't it, Mr Buckle, who deposited the body of Geraldine Jackman in Chew Valley Lake?'
Nobody protested and Buckle made no pretence of a response. A paralysing curiosity gripped the court as Mrs Bargainer talked on. 'On the night of 11 September you drove there with the dead woman in the boot of your Mercedes. And when, a month later, you heard that Dana Didrikson was being held overnight, you thought of a way of confirming the police in their suspicion that she was the murderer. The spare keys for her Mercedes were held by your company. You drove up to Lyncombe where the vehicle was parked. You opened the boot and undipped the fabric lining.'
Buckle's eyes flicked towards the jury, as if in search of a doubter. The looks that met his were not encouraging.
'Are you listening, Mr Buckle? You undipped the lining. Then you removed the lining from the boot of your own car, the lining the body had lain on, and fitted it into the other car. Do you deny it?'
Peter Diamond so completely identified with the question that he started to say aloud, 'Speak up'. He clapped a hand to his mouth.
Buckle was saying, 'You've got me totally wrong. I didn't kill Gerry Jackman. Before God I didn't.'
'You put her in the lake.'
He hesitated.
'You put her in the lake,' Mrs Bargainer insisted. This had become a contest of wills.
Buckle stared around the court. In the dock, Dana had put her fingers to her throat.
'Do you deny it?' Lilian Bargainer demanded.
He capitulated. 'AH right, I did. I put her in the lake.' As a murmur from all sides of the court broke the tension, he added more loudly, 'But I didn't kill her.'
Mrs Bargainer frowned, put her hand to her face and let the fingers slide down to the point of her chin in an attitude of incomprehension. 'You're going to have to help me, Mr Buckle. What you are claiming now is curious, if not incredible. Let's have this clear. On the night of 11 September you drove to Chew Valley Lake with the body of Mrs Jackman and deposited it in the water, and yet you didn't kill her. You insist on that?'
'Yes.'
'Why? Why behave in such an extraordinary fashion?'
He was silent.
'You must explain, Mr Buckle, you really must if we are to believe you.'
His mouth remained closed.
Mrs Bargainer said, 'Let's approach this another way. You didn't kill her. Did you know she had been murdered?'
'No,' said Buckle, freed from his constraint. 'That's the point.'
'Good. I'm beginning to understand. You found her dead, is that right?'
'Yes.'
'You didn't know she'd been murdered, is that right?'
'Yes.'
'You thought she'd overdosed.'
'Yes – I mean no.' Buckle stared about him. He'd been snared, and he knew it.
Lilian Bargainer said without even a hint of irony, 'You said yes and you meant no. Which is it? I put it to you that your associate Andy Coventry was supplying Mrs Jackman with cocaine that he got from you. You're the importer and he was the pusher. Am I right?'
Sir Job sprang up, but the judge gestured to him to be seated.
'You had better consider your position, Mr Buckle,' said Lilian Bargainer. 'It's too late now to deny your
