Sebastian turned to look at the jury. One or two of them were nodding, while others were taking notes.
“Have you ever taken even recreational drugs in the past? Perhaps when you were a student?”
“Never. But I do suffer from hay fever, so I sometimes take antihistamine tablets during the summer.”
“Have you ever sold a drug to anyone, at any time in your life?”
“No, sir. I can’t imagine anything more evil than living off the proceeds of other people’s misery.”
“No more questions, my lord.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gray. Mr. Carman, you may begin your cross-examination.”
“What do you think, Arnold?” Seb whispered, as the prosecution counsel gathered up his papers and prepared himself for the main event.
“If the jury were asked to return their verdict now,” said Arnold, “I have no doubt Hakim would be acquitted. But we don’t know what the prosecution has up its sleeve, and George Carman doesn’t have a reputation for abiding by the Queensberry Rules. By the way, have you noticed that Adrian Sloane is sitting in the public gallery, following every word?”
35
Mr. Carman rose slowly from his place, adjusted his well-worn wig and tugged at the lapels of his long black gown before opening the thick file in front of him. He raised his head and peered at the defendant.
“Mr. Bishara, do you consider yourself to be a risk taker?”
“I don’t think so,” Hakim replied. “I am by nature fairly conservative, and I try to judge every deal on its merits.”
“Then allow me to be more specific. Are you a gambler?”
“No. I always calculate the odds before I take any risk, especially when I’m dealing with other people’s money.”
“Are you a member of the Clermont Club in Mayfair?”
Mr. Gray was quickly on his feet. “Is this relevant, my lord?”
“I suspect we’re about to find out, Mr. Gray.”
“Yes, I am a member of the Clermont.”
“So you are a gambler, at least with your own money?”
“No, Mr. Carman, I only ever take a risk when I’m confident the odds are in my favor.”
“So you never play roulette, black jack or poker?”
“No, I do not. They are all games of chance, Mr. Carman, in which the banker inevitably ends up the winner. On balance, I prefer to be the banker.”
“Then why are you a member of the Clermont Club if you’re not a gambler?”
“Because I enjoy the occasional game of backgammon, in which only two people are involved.”
“But wouldn’t that mean the odds were fifty-fifty? Yet you just told the court that you only take a risk when you consider the odds are in your favor.”
“Mr. Carman, at the World Backgammon Championships in Las Vegas three years ago, I reached the last sixteen. I know the other fifteen players personally, and I have a policy of avoiding them, which ensures that the odds are always in my favor.”
A ripple of laughter ran through the courtroom. Sebastian was pleased to see that even one or two of the jury were smiling.
Carman quickly changed the subject. “And before your trip to Nigeria, had you ever been stopped by a customs officer?”
“No, never.”
“So you would have calculated that the odds would be in your favor before you—”
“My lord!” said Gray, leaping up from his seat.
“Yes, I agree, Mr. Gray,” said the judge. “You don’t need to introduce an element of speculation, Mr. Carman. Just stick to the facts of the case.”
“Yes, my lord. So, let’s stick to the facts, shall we, Mr. Bishara. You may recall that I asked you a moment ago if you had ever been stopped by a customs officer before, and you replied that you had not. Would you like to reconsider that answer?” Bishara hesitated, just long enough for Carman to add, “Let me rephrase the question, Mr. Bishara, so you are in no doubt of what I am asking you, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to add perjury to the list of charges you’re already facing.”
The judge looked as if he was about to intervene when Carman added, “Mr. Bishara, is this the first time you’ve been arrested for smuggling?”
Everyone in the court fell silent as they waited for Hakim’s reply. Sebastian remembered from his mother’s libel trial that barristers seldom ask leading questions unless they already know the answer.
“There was one other occasion, Mr. Carman, but I confess I had forgotten all about it, perhaps because the charge was later withdrawn.”
“You had forgotten all about it,” repeated Carman. “Well, now you remember, perhaps you’d be willing to share with the court the details of why you were arrested on that occasion?”
“Certainly. I had closed a deal with the Emir of Qatar to finance the building of an airport in his country and, after the signing ceremony, the Emir presented me with a watch, which I was wearing when I arrived back in England. When I was asked to produce a receipt for it, I was unable to do so.”
“So you hadn’t declared it.”
“It was a gift from the head of state, Mr. Carman,” said Hakim, his voice rising. “I would hardly have been wearing the watch if I’d been trying to hide it.”
“And what was the value of that watch, Mr. Bishara?”
“I have no idea.”
“Then let me enlighten you,” said Carman, turning a page of his file. “Cartier valued the timepiece at fourteen thousand pounds. Or perhaps you’ve conveniently forgotten that as well?” Bishara made no attempt to reply. “What happened to that watch, Mr. Bishara?”
“Customs decided that I could keep it if I was willing to pay five thousand pounds import duty.”
“And did you?”
“No,” said Bishara, raising his left hand. “I prefer the watch my mother gave me on the day of my graduation from Yale.”
“Apart from thirteen ounces of heroin, what else did the customs officer find in your bag on the most recent occasion on which you were detained, Mr. Bishara?” said Carman, changing tack.
“The usual toiletries, a couple of shirts, socks... but then I was only staying for the weekend.”
“Anything else?” Carman asked as he penned a note.
“A little money.”
“How much money?”
“I don’t recall the exact amount.”
“Then let me once again refresh your memory, Mr. Bishara. According to Mr. Collier, he found ten thousand pounds in cash in your overnight bag.”
A gasp went up around the court. More than the annual income of most of those sitting on the jury, was Sebastian’s first thought.
“Why would a respectable banker, with an impeccable reputation, need to be carrying ten thousand pounds in cash in his overnight bag, when to quote you” — he once again checked his notes — “but then I was only staying for the weekend.”
“In Africa, Mr. Carman, not everyone has a bank account or a credit card, so the local custom is often to settle transactions in cash.”
“And I imagine that would also be the custom if you wanted to buy drugs, Mr. Bishara?”
Gray was quickly on his feet again.
“Yes, yes. I withdraw the question,” said Carman, well aware that he’d made his point. “Presumably, Mr. Bishara, you are aware of the maximum amount of cash you are permitted to bring into this country?”
“Ten thousand pounds.”