And so he’d said it himself, without her having to accuse him. The atmosphere in court was electric. She felt the crackle of attention all round her.
‘On the morning she died, where did she say she was going?’
‘To the protest. But it wasn’t true. I went there myself to check.’
Sarah smiled grimly. ‘So what did you do then, David? Did you go to Bramham Street to spy on her, as you’d done before?’
‘No! I didn’t. I wanted to, but I thought … there’s no point. I went straight to work.’
‘Really?’ Sarah shook her head, disbelievingly. ‘And while you were at work, you forgot all about Jasmine, did you?’
‘No!’ Once again, tears filled his eyes and he fumbled for a tissue. ‘I was upset, of course I was.’ Sarah thought of the pain she was inflicting, then instantly hardened her heart.
‘So you were upset about Jasmine. What time did you leave work that night?’
‘At the end of the shift. Ten o’clock.’
‘What did you do then?’
‘I cycled home.’ He watched her warily again.
‘But you’d been thinking about Jasmine all evening at work, you say. Did you go to Bramham Street on your way home?’
‘No.’
‘Didn’t you, David? Why not? How could you resist the urge to stand outside, see if the bedroom light was on, see if you could hear her laughing with him?’
‘I told you, I didn’t go. Anyway I thought she might have come home.’
‘But she hadn’t, had she? Did you go out again, to look for her?’
‘No. Of course not. There was no point.’
‘Because you knew where she was?’
‘I thought I did, yes.’
‘You didn’t go back along the cyclepath by the river, where Jasmine’s body was found?’
A soft indrawing of breath ruffled the air as the point of Sarah’s question became clear.
‘No! I wish I had, I might have saved her!’
‘Did you cycle home that way?’
‘No. Not that day.’
‘Why not?’
‘It was dark. I don’t go that way when it’s dark.’
‘But it’s a route you know well?’
‘I use it sometimes, yes.’
‘And Jasmine used it too?’
‘She did, but I told her not to use it after dark, for that exact reason. Anyone could be hiding in the bushes. A monster like him!’ He glared at Simon.
‘I see. So you knew that this was a route that Jasmine used, and you thought it was exactly the sort of place where a murderer or rapist might attack her. Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
Sarah drew a deep breath. Almost there. ‘So if the idea had come into your head to murder Jasmine, you’d have known exactly the right place to choose. Wouldn’t you, David?’
His face paled in horror. ‘You’re mad! I didn’t kill her! Simon did!’
‘So you say. But there was no one with you that night, was there, David? No one who can support this story that you didn’t use the cycle path, or go out again to look for Jasmine late that night?’
‘No. But it’s all true. For Christ’s sake!’
Turner was back on his feet. ‘My lord, I really feel that this has gone far enough. My learned friend is badgering this witness without a shred of evidence to support these allegations. She is causing great distress to no purpose.’
Resolutely, Sarah faced the judge, on whose face was a clear expression of distaste. ‘I have made no allegations, my lord, none. I have accused this witness of nothing: he has accused himself. I have merely sought to establish that he has the motive, the opportunity, and the lack of alibi, precisely that which is alleged against my son.’
Judge Mookerjee contemplated her, considering the situation before him. But before he could decide, Sarah resumed. ‘Anyway, my lord, I have no more questions for this witness. So if I am causing distress, it is ended.’
The judge nodded, relieved. ‘In that case, Mr Brodie, you may stand down.’
David Brodie stood there, irresolute, shaking. He half turned to go, then changed his mind and faced Sarah again. His hurt, bitter voice carried clear across the court.
‘I loved Jasmine, and your son killed her. You know it, too, don’t you? Bitch!’
Amid the excited buzz of conversation, Sarah turned to look at Simon. Directly above him, watching from the public gallery, was her husband, Bob.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Since the start of the trial Sarah had felt stared at. It was not just the cameras outside — everywhere within the building people were aware of her, either watching her openly or from the corners of their eyes. She was on public view. But today was worse than ever. As the court emptied for the lunchtime recess, she could feel the eyes feeding on her, hundreds of them. As though they all belonged to one single organism.
She shivered as she came into the crowded lobby, where journalists, security guards, students, police and witnesses were milling around indiscriminately. Lucy squeezed her arm.
‘That was a tough thing to do.’
‘Tell me about it. Oh Christ, look out. Left turn, quick.’
David Brodie was a yard away, speaking indignantly to the prosecution solicitor. When he saw Sarah he stepped impulsively forward. ‘You’re a bitch, you know that? A rotten stinking cow! I never killed her and you know damn well I didn’t …’
‘David, David, come on. You’ll make things worse …’ The solicitor caught his arm, while Sarah and Lucy slipped past them out of the front door straight into the huge black eye of a TV camera. A smartly dressed young woman thrust a microphone in Sarah’s face.
‘Mrs Newby, how did the trial go this morning?’
‘No, sorry, not today.’ Lucy dragged Sarah down the steps and away, the camera filming them but making no attempt to follow. It was then that Bob appeared.
‘Sarah, can I have a word?’ His face under the beard looked grim.
‘We’re just off to lunch, Bob.’
‘Fine, I’ll come too.’
‘This is a surprise, Bob.’ Sarah kept walking briskly. ‘How will the school manage?’
‘For a day, it’ll have to. Sarah, what the hell were you doing in there?’
‘Defending Simon, of course. How can you ask?’
They stopped by a bench on the quay. Lucy watched awkwardly.
‘You were destroying that young man’s reputation!’
‘I’ll do whatever it takes, Bob. That’s the name of the game.’
‘But he didn’t kill her. You know he didn’t. Christ, you could see how upset he was.’
‘Guilty people get upset too, you know.’
He shook his head sadly. ‘You don’t believe it, though, Sarah, do you? Not for a minute.’
She faced him grimly. ‘Don’t I, Bob? How many more times? It’s not a question of what I believe, it’s what I can do for Simon that counts. How much doubt I can raise in the minds of the jury. That’s what this morning was about.’
‘Well, it’s a filthy business, in my opinion. Not a game.’
‘Is it, Bob? I’m sorry. But it’s what has to be done.’
‘Well, you may as well know that you didn’t raise any doubts in my mind with that performance. Just the opposite. If I were on the jury I’d be more likely to think Simon’s guilty, if that’s the best defence you can offer.’
And he was gone, striding swiftly away without a backward glance. Leaving Sarah and Lucy alone, with a couple of ducks waddling hopefully towards them.
‘Would you, Bob?’ Sarah murmured, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Well that’s a great pity, isn’t it? Really a very great pity indeed.’
She leaned her head on Lucy’s shoulder, and cried. For a marriage, for a husband who was gone. Then she straightened up, brushed the tears away, and smiled ‘Come on. I don’t know about you, but I need a good lunch. To give me strength for this afternoon. What do you say?’
‘It’s on me,’ said Lucy loyally, falling into step beside her. Thinking, the woman is as strong as a samurai sword. But even that can shatter, on stone.