"Must you say that? Why not tell them the truth?"
"They will not believe the truth. No one would!"
"I have noticed that they tend to ignore me when I tell them the truth and listen only when I repeat back to them what they have told me is the truth."
Now Mr. Griffiths was looking from Jherek to Mrs. Amelia Underwood and back again and there was a miserable, haunted look on his face. "You mean you both believe this wild nonsense about the future?"
"It is not nonsense, Mr. Griffiths," said Mrs. Amelia Underwood firmly. "But, on the other hand, I do not ask you to believe it. The important thing is to save Mr. Carnelian's life — even if it means going against all my principles and uttering a perjury to the Court. It seems the only way, in this instance, to stop an injustice taking place!"
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Griffiths desperately. "So you will go into the witness box and tell the jury that Mr. — Carnelian — is mad. That is all I shall require."
"Yes," she whispered.
"You do love me," said Jherek, also speaking softly. "I can see it in your eyes, Mrs. Underwood."
She looked at him once, a look of longing, of agony. An imploring look. And then she turned and had left the cell.
"She does love me!" Jherek skipped around the cell. Mr. Griffiths watched him skip. Mr. Griffiths seemed tired. He had an air of fatalism about him as he, too, left the cell and Jherek began to sing at the top of his voice. "All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small. All things wise and wonderful…"
After lunch everyone assumed their places again and the first person to appear was Mrs. Amelia Underwood, looking even more strained than ever, in the role of Witness for the Defence.
Mr. Griffiths asked her if she had known Jherek before. She said she had met him when travelling with her missionary father in South America, that he had caused her some embarrassment but that he was "harmless".
"An idiot, would you say, Mrs. Underwood?"
"Yes," murmured Mrs. Underwood, "an idiot."
"Something of — um — an innocent, eh?"
"An innocent," she agreed in the same voice. "Yes."
"Did he show any violent tendencies?"
"None. I do not believe he knows what violence is."
"Very good. And crime? Would you say he had any notion of crime?"
"None."
"Excellent." Mr. Griffiths turned towards the twelve men who were all leaning forward, concentrating on the exchange. "I think, members of the jury that this lady — the daughter of a missionary — has successfully proved to you that not only did the defendant not know he was being involved in a crime by the deceased Alfred Vine but that he was incapable knowingly of committing any crime. He came to England to seek out the woman who had been kind to him in his own country — in the Argentine, as Mrs. Underwood has told you. He was duped by unscrupulous rogues into aiding them in a theft. Knowing nothing of our customs…"
Lord Jagger leaned forward. "I think we can save all this for the summing up, Mr. Griffiths."
Mr. Griffiths bowed his head. "Very well, m'lud. I apologise."
And now it was Sir George Freeman's turn to question Mrs. Underwood. He had small beady eyes, a red nose and an aggressive manner. He asked Mrs. Underwood for particulars of where and when she had met Mr. Carnelian. He produced arguments and evidence to show that no ship had docked in London from the Argentine on the date mentioned. He suggested that Mrs. Underwood had misguidedly felt sorry for Mr. Carnelian and had come forward to give evidence which was untrue in order to save him. Was she one of those who objected to capital punishment? He could understand that many good Christians were. He did not suggest that she was appearing in the witness box from anything but the best — if most misguided — of motives. And so on and so on until Mrs. Underwood burst into tears and Jherek tried to climb out of his own box and go to her.
"Mrs. Underwood!" he cried. "Just tell them what really happened. Lord Jagged will understand! He will tell them that you are speaking the truth!"
And then everyone seemed to be springing up at once and there was a loud babble of voices and the rapping of a hammer against wood and a man crying loudly:
"Silence in court! Silence in court!"
"I shall have to have the court cleared in the event of a further demonstration of this kind," said Lord Jagger drily.
"But she is only lying because these people will not believe the truth!" cried Jherek.
"Silence!"
Jherek looked wildly around him. "They said that you would not believe the truth — that we met a million years in the future, that I followed her back here because I loved her — still do love her…"
Lord Jagger ignored Jherek and instead leaned towards the men in the false hair below him. "This witness may leave the box," he said. "She seems to be in distress. Do you have any further questions, gentlemen?"
Mr. Griffiths shook his head in silent despair. Sir George Freeman seemed quietly pleased and also shook his head.
Jherek watched Mrs. Underwood being led from the box. He saw her disappear and he had a terrible feeling that he would never see her again. He looked appealingly at Lord Jagger.
"Why did you let them make her cry, Jagged?"
"Silence!"
"I think I have successfully proven, m'lud, that the only witness for the defence was lying," said Sir George Freeman.
"Have you anything to say to that, Mr Griffiths?" Lord Jagger asked.
Mr. Griffiths had lowered his head. "No, m'lud." He turned and looked at Jherek, who was still agitated. "Though I believe we have had ample proof of the defendant's unbalanced mental state today."
"We shall decide on that later," said Lord Jagger. "And it is not, I should like to remind the jury, the defendant's mental condition today which is being examined. We are trying to discover whether he was mad on the morning of the murder."
"Lord Jagged!" cried Jherek. "I beg you. Finish this thing now. The charade might have been amusing to begin with, but it has caused Mrs. Underwood genuine grief. Perhaps you do not understand how these people feel — but I do — I have experienced quite awful emotions and states of mind myself since I have been here."
"Silence!"
"Lord Jagged!"
"Silence!"
"You will be able to speak in your own defence later, if you wish," said Lord Jagger, without a flicker of humour, without a single sign of recognition. And Jherek at last began to doubt that this was his friend on the bench. Yet the face, the mannerisms, the voice were all the same — and the name was almost the same. It could not be a coincidence.
And then the thought occurred to him that Lord Jagged was taking some malicious pleasure in the proceedings — that he was not Jherek's friend at all. That he had engineered this entire fiasco from start to finish.
The rest of the trial seemed to take place in a flash. And when Lord Jagged asked Jherek if he wished to speak, he merely shook his head. He was too depressed to make any reaction, to try to convince them of the truth. He began to believe that, possibly, he was, indeed, quite mad.
But the thought almost made Jherek dizzy. It could not be! It could not be!
And then Lord Jagger made a short speech to the jury and they all left the court again. Jherek was taken back to his cell and was joined by Mr. Griffiths.
"It looks grim," said Mr. Griffiths. "You should have kept quiet, you know. Now they all think it was an elaborate trick to get you off. This could ruin me."
He took something from his case and handed it to Jherek. "Your friend, Mrs. Underwood, asked me to give you this."
Jherek took the paper. He looked at the marks on it and then handed it back to Mr. Griffiths. "You had better read it."