periodic glimpses of his true personality. He constantly brushed his bangs off his forehead in a habitual gesture that reminded Greta of Thomas.
“How old are you, Matthew?” asked the judge.
“Sixteen, sir.”
“I think you’d be more comfortable if Mr. Sparling and Mr. Lambert here called you Matthew rather than Master Barne or anything formal like that. Is that what you’d prefer, Matthew?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I suggest you sit down to give your evidence. It’s not easy for someone of your age being in court, and you should tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it less difficult for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Matthew managed a nervous smile as he sat down and turned his buttoned up neck toward John Sparling. “Matthew, do you know Thomas Robinson?” asked the prosecution barrister.
“Yes, I do. He goes to school with me.”
“Which school is that, Matthew?”
“Carstow School, sir. It’s in Surrey.”
“How long have you known Thomas?”
“Since last September. We both started together.”
“Tell us about your relationship.”
“He’s my best friend. All the other boys in our class had already been there two years when we got there, and so we were sort of in it together, if you know what I mean.”
“I see. Now, have you ever been to five St. Mary’s Terrace in Chelsea, London?”
“Is that where Tom’s dad lives?”
“Yes. Have you been there?”
“Yes. Yes, I have.”
Matthew suddenly sounded very nervous and looked up at Judge Granger, swallowing visibly as he did so. The judge did his best to calm him down.
“Just answer the questions, Matthew,” he said gently. “You have nothing to fear. Have some water if you need to.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” said Sparling. “Now, Matthew, when did you go to Sir Peter Robinson’s house?”
“Near the end of October last year. It was at the weekend. On a Saturday.”
“Who were you with?”
“With Tom. It was his idea.”
“I see. Now tell us in your own words, Matthew, what the idea was. Why did you go to the house?”
“Because the girlfriend of Tom’s dad had her stuff there. Tom read in the paper the weekend before that his dad was going to Paris for some political thing, and Tom said his dad’s girlfriend goes everywhere with him because she’s his assistant too.”
“So they’d be away. What was the significance of that?”
“So that Tom could go through her stuff. He thinks she was behind his mum getting killed, and he wanted to find something to prove it. Because that’s what the police told him. That they needed more evidence.”
Miles Lambert had caught Judge Granger’s eye while Matthew was talking, and the judge now leaned forward to speak to the prosecution barrister before he asked his next question.
“I know it’s difficult, Mr. Sparling, but please try and cut out the hearsay. Thomas Robinson can tell us about his motives when he gives his evidence. We don’t need Matthew here to do it for him.”
“No, my Lord,” said Sparling. “I hear what you say. Matthew, tell us what time you got to the house.”
“It was in the afternoon. About half past four. Tom had a key to the front door, but he rang the bell first. We watched to see if anyone answered, but they didn’t. He did the same downstairs in the basement. Then when we were inside, there’s a door that goes downstairs in the hall, and he went through that.”
“How?”
“There was a key in the door. He was down there for quite a while.”
“Where did you go?”
“I stayed upstairs. There was a room off the hall with a whole lot of computer equipment, and I sat in there. I didn’t touch anything.”
“What happened next?”
“Tom came back, and then he went through the stuff in the computer room.”
“What stuff?”
“He looked in the drawers and he turned on the computer and went through the files. He didn’t find anything though. We were there for ages and I wanted to go but he said we had to go upstairs. He said that his dad and his assistant were living together and so she’d have personal stuff in the bedroom.”
“Mr. Sparling,” said the judge in a warning voice.
“Yes, my Lord. Matthew, try to stick to what happened and don’t tell us what Thomas said. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Right, tell us what happened upstairs. Did you go up there too?”
“Yes, but I only stood in the doorway while Tom went in. She did have stuff in there like Tom said she would, but he didn’t find anything to do with his mother in any of her clothes or her drawers or anything like that, and so we started to go back downstairs. Tom was really upset. He was frustrated at not finding anything when he’d been going on about how he was going to get Greta all the way up on the train. He — ”
“Yes, Matthew,” interrupted Sparling. “We do need to focus on what happened in the house. You said you were going downstairs. Tell us what happened next.”
“Well, we were one floor up from the computers. On the landing. And there was a door open into this big room.”
“The drawing room?”
“I guess so. Anyway, Tom saw this old desk in the corner, and he was saying that his mother used to use it when she was in London and that it had this really neat secret drawer. That was where he found the locket.”
“He showed it to you? You saw it up close?”
“Yes, sir. It was gold with a chain, and there was a little photograph inside. Tom said it was his parents. In the photograph I mean.”
“Thank you, Matthew. Now I’d like to show you one of our exhibits. It’s number thirteen, my Lord. Do you recognize that, Matthew?”
“It looks like it. Yes, I’d say it’s the same as the one Tom found.”
“Thank you. Now, Matthew, please tell us what happened after Tom found the locket.”
“He was really excited. Talking a lot and everything. I guess that’s why we didn’t hear the door open downstairs. We didn’t hear anything until she was on the stairs.”
“Who? Who was on the stairs?”
“Greta. She… she’s over there.” Matthew pointed at the dock where Greta was sitting forward in her chair watching him intently.
“What happened next?”
“Tom was in the doorway, and I think she saw him first. She was really angry, shouting at him, using all this really bad language.”
“We need you to tell us everything she said, Matthew,” said Sparling in a fatherly voice. “I know it’s not easy, but we need to know even if the words are bad.”
“She called Tom a fucking little sneak. I remember that. It was scary. Tom backed away into the room and almost knocked me over. I was behind him. Tom was holding up this locket thing in front of her saying, ‘Look what I’ve found’ or something like that. He was really angry too. They were both shouting.”
“What was Greta shouting, Matthew? Help us with that.”
“She said, ‘Give that to me. It’s mine.’ That’s what she said. She made a grab for it but she missed. Tom pulled it away and then he pushed her back. I don’t know what she was going to do. Scratch him or something I guess.”
“What happened when he pushed her back, Matthew? Where did she go?”
“She was on the floor and Tom was standing over her and he was like shouting down at her.”
