‘Detective Constable Warwick, would you please tell the court how you became involved in this case.’
William began by describing his meeting with Mr. Giddy, the manager of Hatchards, and his concern that he might have been sold a set of Winston Churchill’s The Second World War with fake signatures. He went on to tell the court about his visits to other bookshops, a number of which had been offered, and some had purchased, a total of twenty-two volumes of Churchill’s memoirs purportedly signed by the former prime minister.
‘And what happened next?’ asked Hayes.
‘I had a call from an assistant at John Sandoe Books in Chelsea, to tell me that the suspect had returned so I went straight to the shop. But he had just left.’
‘So you lost him?’
‘No. The assistant was able to point the man out as he was walking toward Sloane Square. I chased after him, and had nearly caught up with him when he disappeared into Sloane Square tube station. I continued to pursue him, and just managed to jump on the train he’d got onto as the doors were closing.’
‘And then what happened?’
‘The suspect got off at Dagenham East, when I followed him to a house in Monkside Drive. I made a note of the address, and then took the tube back to Scotland Yard. The following day I obtained a search warrant for the defendant’s home, where I found a number of signed books, including a complete set of Sir Winston Churchill’s The Second World War, three of which had been signed, and several sheets of paper with rows of handwritten Churchill signatures.’
‘These are all in the list of exhibits, Your Honor,’ said Hayes, before turning back to the witness. ‘And did you discover anything else of particular interest?’
‘Yes, sir. I found a first edition of A Christmas Carol, signed by Charles Dickens.’
‘Your Honor,’ said Hayes, ‘that is also in the court bundle. Perhaps you and the jury would care to examine the exhibits.’
The judge nodded, and the jury took their time studying the books, as well as the pages of Churchill signatures, before they were handed back to the clerk of the court.
‘What did you do next, Detective Constable Warwick?’
‘I arrested Mr. Amhurst, and escorted him to Dagenham police station, where he was later charged with three counts of fraud, deception, and forgery.’
‘Thank you, Detective Constable Warwick. I have no more questions for this witness, Your Honor,’ said Hayes, before sitting down.
William was relieved that the ordeal was over. Not as bad as he’d feared. He was about to leave the witness box when Hayes leaped back up and said, ‘Please remain there, Detective Constable, as I suspect my learned friend may have a question or two for you.’
‘I most certainly do,’ said defense counsel, as she rose from her place at the other end of the bench. William stared at her in disbelief.
‘Before I begin my cross-examination, Your Honor, I should point out to the court that this witness is my brother.’
The judge leaned forward and took a closer look first at Grace, and then at William, but made no comment.
‘I can assure Your Honor that neither my instructing solicitor nor my client is at all concerned about this unusual situation. But it is of course possible that my learned friend, or indeed the witness himself, may be. In which case I will withdraw and allow my junior to conduct the cross-examination.’
Mr. Hayes was quickly on his feet. ‘I believe that would be the simplest solution, Your Honor.’
‘Possibly,’ said the judge. ‘But I’m more interested to hear Detective Constable Warwick’s opinion.’
William recalled his father’s words: Grace only takes on hopeless cases, and never wins. ‘Bring her on,’ he muttered staring defiantly at his sister.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said the judge.
‘I’m quite happy for my sister to conduct the cross-examination, Your Honor.’
‘Then you may proceed, Ms. Warwick.’
Grace bowed, straightened her gown, and turned to the witness. She gave him a warm smile, which he didn’t return.
‘Constable Warwick, may I begin by saying how much I enjoyed your colorful description of how you chased my client halfway across London and then failed to arrest him, but returned the following morning to make a second attempt. It all sounded rather like an episode from the Keystone Cops, which may make the jury wonder just how long you have been a detective.’ William hesitated. ‘Don’t be shy, constable. Are we talking about weeks, months, or years?’
‘Three months,’ said William.
‘And was this your first arrest as a detective constable?’
‘Yes,’ admitted William reluctantly.
‘Would you speak up, constable. I’m not sure the jury heard your reply.’
‘Yes, it was,’ said William, as he gripped the sides of the witness box.
‘Now, I’m curious to understand, constable, why, having pursued my client from Chelsea to Dagenham, you didn’t arrest him long before he reached the safety of his home?’
‘I needed to obtain a warrant before I could search his house.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Grace. ‘Because surely you could have arrested Mr. Amhurst the moment he’d stepped off the train at Dagenham East, taken him to the local police station, and obtained a section eighteen authority from the senior officer on duty, and then searched his home that same day.’
William knew she was right, but couldn’t admit he’d made such a basic mistake, so he remained silent.
‘Can I presume, constable, that you have read section eighteen of the 1984 Police and Criminal Evidence Act, which grants you the power to search a suspect’s address following an arrest?’
Several times, William wanted to tell her, but still said nothing.
‘As you seem unwilling to answer my question, constable, can I assume that you had no fear that my client might destroy any evidence or absent himself before you returned the following morning?’
‘But I was confident he hadn’t seen me,’ said William, trying to fight back.
‘Were you indeed, constable? Can you remember what Mr. Amhurst said when you and a colleague arrived the following day with a warrant to search his home?’ Grace held on to the lapels of her gown, readjusted her wig, and stared at her brother, giving him the same disarming smile, before saying, ‘Would it help if I reminded you?’ She prolonged William’s embarrassment by waiting a little longer, before turning to face the jury. ‘He said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”’
A few people in the well of the court began to laugh. The judge frowned at them.
‘Wouldn’t you agree that doesn’t sound like the response of a guilty man, fearful of being arrested and thrown in jail?’ said Grace.
‘Yes, but—’
‘If you could stick to answering my questions, constable, and not offering personal opinions, it would be much more helpful.’
William was stunned by the ferocity of her attack, and certainly wasn’t prepared for her next question.
‘Are you an expert in recognizing forged signatures, or did you just take it for granted that my client was guilty?’
‘No, I didn’t. I had written statements from nine booksellers to whom Mr. Amhurst had offered complete signed editions of Churchill’s history of the Second World War.’
‘None of whom, sadly, including the manager of Hatchards who made the original complaint, were able to find the time to come to court and give evidence today. Were you by any chance in Hatchards on Saturday morning?’
‘No,’ said William, puzzled by the question.
‘If you had been, Constable Warwick, you could have obtained a copy of Graham Greene’s latest novel The Tenth Man, because the author signed over a hundred copies before going on to sign even more books at several other bookshops in the West End. Now, as Sir Winston was a politician, I don’t suppose he was shy about signing the odd copy of his works.’