witness, particularly when she was as vital to his cause as this one.
“Mattie had to be kept in for the first couple of weeks until she was trained. If she went out on the grounds, it had to be on a leash. Everyone had to remember to check that she was shut up before they went outside.
“Well, Sir Peter and Greta, the defendant that is, hadn’t been down to Flyte for over a month. They usually came together, and my Lady was very disappointed when Sir Peter did not make it down for Thomas’s birthday on April 30. Anyway, she rang him up, and he agreed to come on the following weekend.”
“How long had Mattie been there then?” asked Sparling.
“Just over a week. Well, they both came down late on the Friday evening. Everyone had gone to bed, and the little dog was sleeping on Thomas’s bed. The next morning Sir Peter got up early and went off in his car.”
“How do you know that?” asked the judge.
“I know it because I saw him come back in it. I was cleaning the front windows in the drawing room, and I heard him open the gates and drive up. Mattie must have heard him too because she was at the front door making her normal commotion: leaping up, barking, scratching and the like. Next thing I knew, Greta was at the front door too and had let the little thing out. I didn’t have time to tell her not to. Well, Sir Peter couldn’t have stopped the dog even if he’d tried. She was going faster than a greyhound. Down the steps and out the gates. It was just bad luck that there was a car coming. They drive so fast on that road, and the little dog didn’t have a chance.”
Mrs. Martin stopped to open her handbag and produced a white lace handkerchief with which she dabbed at her eyes, although there was no evidence of any tears there. The jury looked unanimously appalled.
“Mr. Sparling,” said the judge in an authoritative voice. “I am a little concerned and I am sure that Mr. Lambert is too. The defendant is not charged with murdering a Highland terrier, is she?”
“No, my Lord.”
“And there is in fact no evidence as I understand it to suggest that she knew that she would be endangering the dog’s life by letting her out the front door. That’s not your case, is it, Mr. Sparling?”
“No, it isn’t, my Lord. Not at all.”
“Good. Well then, I understand your wish to allow Mrs. Martin to tell things her own way, but please ensure that it’s done properly.”
“Yes, my Lord. Now, Mrs. Martin, where had the defendant come from?”
“She’d been in the dining room having her breakfast. On the other side of the hall from me.”
“Thank you. What happened next?”
“Sir Peter brought the dog up to the house. She was obviously dead, poor little thing. He laid her out on the settle in the hallway.”
“What settle is that, Mrs. Martin?”
“It’s like an old black bench that opens up. There are carvings on the front. It’s been in the house for as long as I have.”
“I see. Please carry on.”
“Well, that was when Tom came down. He was in a terrible state. He’d only had the little dog for just over a week, and to see it all dead like that was horrible for him. I remember him touching her side and then he had blood on his hand. It’d have been better in a way if Sir Peter hadn’t brought her in, but I don’t know what else he was supposed to do.
“Anyway, when Tom realized what had happened, that Greta had let the dog out, he really lost his temper.”
“Who told him?” asked Sparling.
“I think I did. He asked and I told him.”
“I see. So what did Thomas do when he lost his temper, Mrs. Martin?”
“He went for her. Greta, I mean. I don’t know if he hit her or not because it all happened so quick, but I know that she pushed him back.”
“Pushed him where?”
“In the chest. With both hands. He fell back onto the settle and knocked the little dog off it onto the floor. The whole thing was really horrible. There was a lot of crying and shouting.”
“Who by?”
“Tom first of all, and then everyone joined in. My Lady was at the top of the stairs. I could see her from where I was in the doorway of the drawing room, and when Greta pushed Tom back onto the settle, she, my Lady that is, she got really angry. I’d never seen her like that before, and I’d been with her since she was just a girl.”
“What did she do?”
“She came rushing down the stairs like the house was on fire, shouting to leave her boy alone, and then she gave Greta a piece of her mind. Quite right too, if you ask me.”
“Mr. Sparling didn’t, Mrs. Martin,” said the judge firmly. “Please do not give us your opinion of how people behaved. Just tell us what happened.”
Mrs. Martin turned away from the judge even before he’d finished speaking to her and pursed her pale lips. There was a defiant look in her eyes, a determination to stand her ground.
“Please tell us what Lady Anne said to the defendant,” asked Sparling, injecting a placatory tone into his voice.
“She told her she was common and that she didn’t belong in the house.”
“Did she swear?”
“Who?”
“Lady Anne. Did she use abusive language to the defendant?”
“My Lady never used foul language. Never. Not like that Greta.”
“We’ll come on to that in a moment, Mrs. Martin, but we do need you to tell us everything in the right order. Now, you’ve told us what Lady Anne said to the defendant. What happened next?”
“Well, that was when Sir Peter got involved. He got between my Lady and the defendant, and he was telling my Lady not to talk to Greta that way. That she was being unfair. I mean, I couldn’t believe it. He was attacking his wife when he should have been defending her.”
“Mrs. Martin,” said the judge. “I won’t warn you again.”
Again the housekeeper pursed her lips and looked defiant, but this time she didn’t need to be asked to continue.
“Well, that’s what my Lady told him, so it’s not just my opinion. And what did Sir Peter do? He turned round and walked out the front door. We didn’t see him for more than an hour after that. I don’t know where he went.”
“What about everyone else in the hallway? What did they do?” asked Sparling.
“My Lady told Greta a few other home truths.”
“What did she say, Mrs. Martin?” asked Sparling when the housekeeper did not elaborate.
“I can’t remember everything, but I know my Lady said that Greta had turned her husband against her and given Thomas bad ideas. She told her she was poisonous. That was the word she used. Poisonous like a snake.”
“I see. Did the defendant respond, say anything herself?”
“No, it was funny, that. She didn’t say anything at all. Not until my Lady had gone off with Thomas and she thought she was alone.”
“Why did she think that?”
“Because I’d stepped back into the drawing room when all the fighting and shouting started. It wasn’t my place to be standing there in the middle of all that.”
“But you heard something that the defendant said after the others had gone?”
“Yes. She was still in the hall and she said…”
Mrs. Martin stopped in midsentence, hesitated and then looked up at the judge.
“Do you want me to say all the words?” she asked. “She used disgusting foul language, like I’ve said before.”
“Yes, Mrs. Martin,” replied the judge. “All the words please.”
“Well, she called my Lady ‘a fucking stuck-up bitch,’ and then she said, ‘You’ve fucking had it now, Mrs. Posh. Just you wait and see.’ Those were her exact words. And she spoke in this hard, coarse accent that I’d never heard
