The expectant buzz dissolved into a dozen unanswered questions as defence counsel resumed his place. William felt robbed for a second time, having spent so many hours preparing for the encounter. Sir Julian didn’t seem at all surprised, though Grace looked puzzled.
‘What’s he up to?’ she whispered in her father’s ear.
‘We’ve pulled the rug out from under his feet, so he now can’t afford to cross-examine William. Booth Watson was convinced the Garrard’s box would be empty. But the Hawk wasn’t going to let that happen a second time.’
‘So should we expect a change of plea?’
‘Not a hope. Booth Watson won’t throw in the towel while there’s the slightest chance of him getting his client off. However, he now knows PC Bailey is his only hope of climbing back into the ring. So don’t under any circumstances lower your guard, because she’s the one witness Booth Watson will be waiting for.’
‘Sir Julian, are you ready to call your next witness?’ interjected the judge.
‘Yes, m’lud. However, with Your Lordship’s indulgence, I shall ask my junior to conduct the Crown’s cross-examination of this particular witness.’
‘As you wish, Sir Julian.’
The daughter rose to replace the father. From the corner of her eye Grace noticed that Booth Watson was almost licking his lips in anticipation. He may have avoided the Choirboy, but he couldn’t wait for the Choirgirl.
Grace looked confidently up at the judge and then across at the jury before she said, ‘I call Police Constable Nicola Bailey.’
29
‘Are you confident she took the bait?’ asked Miles.
‘Hook, line and sinker,’ said Christina. ‘Her eyes lit up at the thought of the Fitzmolean getting its hands on a Raphael.’
‘Which sadly they won’t. She’s nothing more than a pawn in a far larger game, and she’s about to be taken off the board.’
Christina felt guilty about the way her friend was being used, but Miles hadn’t left her in any doubt what the alternative was.
‘You gave her the authority to bid up to a million pounds on your behalf, and made it clear that she couldn’t go any higher? And equally important, she mustn’t tell anyone she will be bidding on your behalf.’
‘Not even Tim Knox. She has no idea that cheque will never be cashed because you’re going to outbid her.’
‘How did she react when you offered her the chance to take our place on the Alden?’ Miles asked.
‘Overwhelmed. She was only disappointed that it meant she wouldn’t be able to attend our wedding.’
‘Let’s hope she never finds out the real reason we couldn’t risk being seen together on the Alden.’
‘Call Police Constable Nicola Bailey,’ repeated the clerk, his voice echoing around the court.
A young woman dressed in a simple white blouse and a navy pleated skirt that fell below the knees entered the room. She wore no jewellery and only a hint of lipstick. She and Rebecca had given a great deal of thought to how she should look, with only the jury in mind.
Nicky made her way slowly across to the witness box, not once glancing in the direction of her former lover in the dock, although his eyes never left her. The clerk handed her a Bible and she delivered the oath without looking at the proffered card.
Grace checked the long list of questions she and Clare had spent several days preparing, to make sure that Summers wasn’t left with any wiggle room, while at the same time hoping to avoid any traps Booth Watson might later spring.
Clare had instructed Nicky to tell the truth, and admit to the mistakes she’d made, and she mustn’t under any circumstances lose her temper, because if she did, Booth Watson would take advantage of it.
Grace smiled at the witness, aware of how nervous she must be.
‘Please state your name and rank for the record,’ said Grace.
‘Police Constable Nicola Bailey.’
‘When you were a serving officer with the Metropolitan Police, which branch did you work for?’
‘I was attached to a special unit investigating corrupt police officers, based at Scotland Yard. My final assignment was a posting as a constable in Romford.’
Booth Watson wrote the word Final? on his yellow pad.
‘Why Romford?’
‘The unit was investigating a Detective Sergeant Jerry Summers, an officer from the Romford division, who we had reason to believe was involved in serious criminal activities. My job was to try to pick up any information on the ground, while my immediate boss, Detective Inspector Warwick, remained undercover.’
So far so good, thought William, who was now seated in the back row of the court.
‘How did you go about that task?’
‘To begin with I was extremely cautious, because if DS Summers had thought I might be working for the Yard, I would have been responsible for blowing the whole operation.’
‘What information were you able to gather about Summers’s activities?’
‘I began by checking his daily reports, which I must confess were impressive. But although his arrest record was second to none, there were also some unexplainable anomalies.’
‘Such as?’
‘Two well-known families were between them running the local drugs racket, and while members of one of them, the Paynes, were regularly being arrested by DS Summers, their equally notorious rivals, the Turners, would often get away with a warning, or at most the occasional police caution.’
‘Did you come up with any explanation for this apparent inconsistency?’
‘I did. Summers openly boasted he had a well-placed informer in the Turner gang, who was supplying him with information that resulted in some large drug seizures and a number of arrests.’
‘Did you pass this information back to Scotland Yard?’
‘Yes. I share a flat with another member of the inner team, so that wasn’t a problem.’
Booth Watson wrote down on his yellow pad Name and rank of her flatmate?
‘Did you try to establish contact with the subject during this operation?’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t easy to begin with without making it too obvious,’ said Nicky. ‘After all, Summers was a detective sergeant, and as far as he was concerned I was just another trainee bobby on the beat. However, he did speak to me on one occasion in the station canteen, and when I found out which pub he frequented after work, I began to hang out there with another WPC in the hope of seeing him again.’
‘And did this ploy prove worthwhile?’
‘Not at first. But one evening after my friend had left to report for the night shift, DS Summers offered to buy me a drink. I accepted, although I remained cautious, and at the time, kept my distance.’
Booth Watson wrote down At the time and Kept my distance.
‘Later that week he invited me to the cinema. Afterwards I joined him for a drink at his flat, before going home.’
‘Why did you agree to go back to his flat? Wasn’t that an unnecessary risk that might have jeopardized the whole operation?’
‘I wanted to find out if there was anything in his home that looked out of place, and beyond the salary of a detective sergeant.’
‘And was there?’
‘Way beyond. The building he lived in was a bit shabby and certainly in need of a lick of paint, while the garden had more weeds than flowers, but once you were inside the detective sergeant’s home it was a different story. He had all the latest electronic gadgets and top-of-the-range furniture that looked as if it had come from an expensive West End store. There was one notable exception — the curtains were old and worn.’