‘I’m sure you’re right. But I’d feel better out there doing something, not just sitting still. That’s why Sarah should be here.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Terry agreed, but it was not his place to do anything about it.
‘Bitch.’
The word was spoken softly, so Terry pretended not to hear. He turned to sergeant Hendry. ‘Tom, have you got a constable to stay with Mr Newby? In case …’
‘I’m not a child, you know!’ Bob snapped. ‘You get your men out searching — I may be upset but I do see the sense in what you’re saying.’
‘All right, sir, thanks. But Tom’ll call in regularly, keep you in the picture. Here’s my mobile number, if you need it. Now, er, can I have the address of that son of yours?’
Bob took a deep breath, trying to regain self control. As he wrote the address he muttered: ‘He’s my stepson, really. Sarah had him before we met. He’s a brickie — works here there and everywhere.’
‘All right, sir, I’ll find out. And we’ll check that phone box too.’
As Terry turned to go, Bob clutched his arm. ‘You’ve run this sort of search before, haven’t you? What are the chances?’
Terry saw fear in the man’s eyes, a barely suppressed panic that could quickly break through. ‘Well, in two cases out of three the child just turns up of its own accord. So the chances are good, if you look at it that way. But we’ll do our best to find her even if she doesn’t.’
Outside he said: ‘Keep an eye on him, Tom. He’s likely to crack any time.’
And as he left he wondered: would I go to pieces like that if Jessica or Esther vanished? Perhaps — who knows.
Would I let my wife treat me as Sarah treated him?
No way.
No wife anyhow.
In the cramped cell below the court, Gary Harker scowled at his lawyers.
‘I’ve thought about it and I’m going in the box.’
‘Why?’ Sarah stood by the door, wig in hand, Lucy beside her.
‘Well if I don’t, the judge is going to slag me off, in’t he? You said so yourself. I’m not going down just because of some crap advice my brief gave me.’
‘As your brief,’ Sarah said firmly, ‘I’m giving you the best advice possible. If you don’t give evidence the judge is entitled to draw the jury’s attention to your silence, Mr Harker; but if you go into the box, with your temper, the prosecution are going to hang you out to dry.’
‘What’s that bloody mean when it’s at home?’
‘Julian Lloyd-Davies is going to needle you about all the lies you’ve told, until you swear and curse and the jury despise you. He’s an expert — he’ll run rings round you.’
‘I have given evidence before, you know! You think I’m fucking stupid or what?’
‘I think you have a violent temper which you find hard to control.’
‘Well, that’s a load of crap, that is, thanks a lot! Me own bloody brief trying to bollock me before the trial! Fucking pair of slags!’
Sarah drew a deep breath. ‘I’m trying to present your case in the best light possible, Mr Harker. If you want to dismiss me and defend yourself you’re quite at liberty to do so.’
Gary considered it. ‘No, that’s not what I want, you know that.’
‘Right then. Well my advice is that if you go into that box and start swearing at people like you are now, you’ll destroy yourself more effectively than the judge ever could. So I suggest you exercise your right to keep silent, and let the judge say what he likes.’
‘And what if the jury listens to him, eh? What am I looking at?’
‘For a violent rape like this? Fifteen years, maybe. Minimum of eight.’
‘Fifteen fucking years! But it only lasted ten minutes, for fuck’s sake!’
Gary stood, his huge hands clenching and unclenching by his side. Sarah said nothing. This is what I came to work for, she thought. Bob’s right. I should be at home looking for Emily. Leave this tosser to rot. She saw the great vein swelling in his thick neck six inches from her face, as he shouted. ‘Fifteen years, and you don’t want me to speak? It’s me that’s going down, not you, you know, Mrs pretty barrister! For a ten minute shag.’
‘Are you admitting your guilt, Mr Harker? If you do that I can no longer represent you.’ And you can rot in hell, she thought. Where you belong. She turned to go, but the man grabbed her shoulder.
‘No I am not admitting no fucking guilt, not to you nor any other twat with a pile of horseshit on her head. But I’m not staying silent, neither. I’m going in that box to tell the truth, so you’d best sharpen up your fancy brain too, because if you don’t, I’ll be looking for you after those fifteen years and it won’t be no ten minutes’ revenge I have in mind, neither.’
She put her hand on his to push it away, but realised she could no more move it than pull a brick from the wall. As her fingers scrabbled on his she met his eyes and to her horror he smiled. Then he let go.
I’m losing control of this, she thought. Get out now. But she had to preserve some dignity. ‘Very well,’ she said shakily. ‘If you insist on giving evidence, that’s your right. I’ll see you in court.’
Outside in the corridor she saw that Lucy, too, was shaking. The two women leaned against opposite walls and gazed at each other. ‘Not your day really, is it?’ Lucy said.
‘No.’ Sarah pressed her trembling hands against the wall behind her. ‘What am I doing here, for God’s sake?’
Lucy fumbled in her bag for cigarettes. ‘It’s not your fault. You told the wanker what to do. His future’s in his own hands now.’
‘Yes. And with a temper like his he’ll probably yank it right off.’
For a moment, in relief after the shock of Gary’s rage, this remark struck the two women as hopelessly, hysterically funny. A warder, passing on the stairs, glanced at them curiously. They were still giggling together when they came up into the main entrance of the court and bumped into Sharon Gilbert.
Oh God, Sarah thought. How much worse can this day get?
I’m not going to try very hard, Sarah thought. There’s no point. Even if he hasn’t actually admitted it the bastard’s guilty and deserves to go down. Anyway I’m too tired. She stood up.
‘My lord, I call Gary Harker.’
Gary took the oath in a strong, loud voice, stumbling slightly over the words as he read them.
‘Mr Harker, you have heard all the evidence brought by the prosecution. Did you rape Sharon Gilbert?’
‘No.’
‘Did you go to her house on the night of Saturday 14th October last year?’
‘No.’
‘Very well. Let me take you through the events of that night. Did you meet Ms Gilbert earlier that evening, at a party at the Station Hotel?’
‘I did, yes.’
‘Why did you go to that party?’
‘Why not? I knew some lads there.’
‘Did you expect to meet Ms Gilbert?’
‘No. I hadn’t seen her for … six months, mebbe.’
‘What were your feelings when you met her?’
‘Well, I weren’t bothered really. I mean, I bought her a drink, asked her to dance, like. That were it, really.’ To Sarah’s surprise Gary seemed quite calm, almost respectable in the way he spoke. The jury were listening intently, no sign of disgust on their faces as yet.
‘Did she seem pleased to see you?’
‘Not really. She’s a stroppy cow at times.’
Here we go, Sarah thought. Sink yourself if you want to. I don’t care.
‘Did you have an argument?’
‘I asked her for me watch back. She said she hadn’t got it.’
‘And how did you react to that?’
‘I said she were, er …’ Gary paused, glanced at the jury, seemed to take a grip on himself. ‘I said it weren’t true. I reckon she’d sold it and she owed me t’brass.’
‘Were your voices raised when you had this argument?’
‘A bit. You had to speak up to be heard.’
‘All right. Did you threaten her in this argument, say you might come to her house and take the watch back, perhaps?’
‘No.’
‘Did you go to her house to get the watch back?’