‘But he could have got any amount of drugs in the City. Why go all the way to Brixton?’
‘Not everyone wants to piss in their own back yard, if you’ll excuse the expression, m’lud,’ said Lamont, looking up at the judge.
‘The Crown would have us believe that Mr Rashidi resided in a luxurious apartment in the adjoining block during the week.’
‘I also investigated that possibility, and quickly established that the defendant returned to his home in The Boltons every night after carrying out a day’s work in the City.’
‘Did you find anyone who could confirm that?’
‘Yes, sir — the housekeeper and his chauffeur, a Falklands veteran, who are both willing to testify.’
Clare wrote What about his mother? on her yellow pad, before passing the observation to Sir Julian.
‘It may also be relevant that the house is in Mr Rashidi’s name,’ continued Booth Watson.
‘Of course it is,’ murmured Grace. ‘And guess who pays the wages of both the chauffeur and housekeeper.’
‘None of this explains DI Warwick’s claim that he found a photograph of Mr Rashidi’s mother on a bedside table in an apartment in Block B.’
‘If he did,’ said Lamont, ‘I never saw it. The only photograph I came across in the flat was the one of Mr Roberts’ mother that was presented to this court as evidence. However, I did look into the possibility that the silver frame might be rare, or even unique.’
‘And was that the case?’
‘No sir. Asprey informed me that they sell around two hundred such frames every year. It’s one of their most popular items.’
Clare nodded, Sir Julian frowned, and William could barely restrain himself. He assumed his father couldn’t wait to tear Lamont apart.
‘And the empty safe which Mr Roberts testified had seven hundred pounds in it,’ pressed Booth Watson. ‘What do you have to say about that?’
‘At the time I took DI Warwick’s word and assumed it was empty.’
William became aware that almost everyone in the court was now staring at him.
‘Did you mention to any of your superiors the possibility that Mr Rashidi might be innocent?’
‘I was reluctant to do so because everyone, including the commissioner of the Met, was convinced Trojan Horse had been an overwhelming success. Indeed, soon after Rashidi’s arrest, DS Warwick was promoted to inspector. So it would be understandable if he had turned a blind eye. I confess I made the same mistake when I was a young detective sergeant, and I’ve regretted it ever since.’
‘Brilliant,’ whispered Sir Julian. ‘He’s not only got it on the record but turned it to his advantage.’
‘But you also turned a blind eye, superintendent.’
‘To begin with, yes, sir, but once I realized that no one was willing to consider the possibility this could be a gross miscarriage of justice, I took what I believed to be the only honourable course of action given the circumstances, and resigned from the Metropolitan Police.’
Sir Julian placed his head in his hands, while William could only stare in disbelief at Rashidi, who clearly was getting his money’s worth.
‘Is it also true, Mr Lamont, that had you remained in the force for another eighteen months, you would have been eligible for a full pension, and no one would have been any the wiser?’
‘That is correct, sir. But by then, I was convinced that an innocent man had been stitched up for a crime he hadn’t committed, and I didn’t want that on my conscience for the rest of my days.’
‘Understandably, Mr Lamont,’ said Booth Watson. ‘I commend you for the fortitude and courage you have shown in wanting to set the record straight, rather than taking the easy way out. I have no further questions. But please remain in the witness box, as I’m sure my learned friend will want to cross-examine you.’
Sir Julian rose from his place and was about to ask for an adjournment when Booth Watson got back onto his feet. ‘I do apologize, m’lud, but there is one more question I should have asked this witness.’
The judge nodded his consent, and Sir Julian reluctantly resumed his seat.
‘Earlier in this trial, Mr Lamont, the Crown made great play of the fact that my client had his suits made in Savile Row by Bennett and Reed, and we know that Inspector Warwick removed several suits from the apartment in Block B as evidence that Mr Rashidi lived there. Did your personal investigations include looking into that claim?’
‘Indeed they did, sir. And despite trooping up and down Savile Row for hours on end, I was unable to find anyone who’d ever heard of Mr Rashidi, let alone made a suit for him.’
‘Were you able to discover where Mr Rashidi had his suits made?’
‘Yes, sir. During the course of my investigations, while questioning Mr Rashidi’s mother to confirm that he resided with her in The Boltons during the week, I asked if she knew where he had his suits made. She told me—’ Lamont paused, and looking up at the judge, said, ‘May I be allowed to refer to the note I made at the time, m’lud?’ Mr Justice Whittaker nodded, and the court waited while Lamont flicked through several pages of his notebook until he found the one he was looking for. ‘Mrs Rashidi’s exact words were, “I think Assem gets all his suits off the peg from Harrods. He’s a regular size, and doesn’t like to waste money unnecessarily.” ’
Sir Julian began to write a note.
‘And did you then—’
‘Forgive me for interrupting you, Mr Booth Watson,’ said the judge, ‘but could this matter not be resolved quite simply by asking the defendant to show us the label on the inside of the jacket he is wearing?’
‘Do you not consider, m’lud,’ said Booth Watson, ‘that would be more appropriate when my client is being examined in the witness box?’
‘I would agree with you, Mr Booth Watson, if you hadn’t already informed my clerk that Mr Lamont will be your final witness. Besides which, if the defendant were to give evidence, he would have more than enough time to change into another suit.’
‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ whispered Grace. Sir Julian didn’t look convinced.
‘You are of course under no obligation to reveal the label of the suit you are wearing, Mr Rashidi,’ said the judge, looking across at the defendant. ‘However, it might assist the jury in their deliberations if you felt able to do so.’
Suddenly, all eyes were looking in one direction. It was clear from the expression on Rashidi’s face that he was reluctant to go along with the judge’s suggestion.
‘Got you,’ murmured William, as their eyes met for a second time, pleased to see the self-satisfied smile had been wiped off Rashidi’s face.
Rashidi rose slowly from his seat in the dock, unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it open to reveal a familiar green-and-gold label that read HARRODS. There was no sign of the initials A.R.
Sir Julian requested an adjournment, which the judge agreed to.
‘How much do you think Lamont was paid to perjure himself?’ asked William.
‘A damn sight more than thirty pieces of silver,’ replied Grace, with considerable feeling.
‘Don’t forget this is the same man who stole a holdall full of money,’ said William, ‘and probably switched the photographs.’
‘We don’t have proof of that,’ said Sir Julian, ‘despite the receptionist reporting that it was a super intendent she’d seen that night, but the duty exhibits officer wasn’t able to confirm it was Lamont.’
‘Wasn’t able to,’ said Grace, ‘or wasn’t willing to?’
‘Be that as it may,’ reflected Sir Julian, ‘I couldn’t help noticing that several members of the jury looked convinced by Lamont’s sincere and heartfelt testimony. To make matters worse, although it was a complete set-up, the Harrods label didn’t do us any favours.’