Well, everyone except Sir Julian Warwick and Mr Booth Watson.
‘Steak-and-kidney pie and chips,’ said William.
Grace frowned. ‘I’m not sure Beth would approve.’
‘I won’t tell her if you don’t,’ said William with a grin.
‘I’ll have the same,’ said Sir Julian, handing back the menu. Grace didn’t comment.
‘I know it’s a silly question, Sir Julian,’ said Clare, ‘but if you had to put a small wager on the verdict, what—’
‘You’re quite right, Clare, it’s a silly question. We’ll just have to leave that decision to the jury. None of us can second-guess.’
No further opinion was offered until a waitress reappeared carrying a tray full of food.
‘Mine’s the green salad,’ said Grace.
‘Don’t look now,’ said William, ‘but your esteemed colleague—’
Sir Julian, Grace and Clare glanced across the room to see Booth Watson having lunch with his client.
‘BW isn’t a colleague, and he certainly isn’t esteemed,’ said Sir Julian. ‘We just happen to be in the same profession.’
‘That may well be true,’ said William, ‘but even so, I wish I was a fly on the wall.’
‘What do you think?’ said Summers as he cut into his steak.
‘Once there’s nothing more I can do to influence the jury,’ replied Booth Watson, ‘I stop thinking. It’s a fool’s game. But I’ll be interested to hear what the judge has to say, because it could in the end all rest on his judgment.’
‘Two of the women on the jury were looking at me when you sat down after your closing speech, and you said that’s a good sign.’
‘Probably the same two women who were looking at Warwick after he’d given his evidence.’
‘You couldn’t have done any more,’ said Summers, popping a chip into his mouth.
But will it be enough? Booth Watson couldn’t help wondering, as a waitress whisked away their plates.
‘How long do you think the judge’s summing-up will take?’ said William, checking his watch. ‘I was hoping to get back to the Yard and catch up on some files in my in-tray that have been gathering dust.’
‘As long as it takes,’ said Sir Julian helpfully.
‘Could I have a word with you, Father, about Nicky Bailey?’ said Grace, changing the subject.
‘What about her?’
‘Whichever way the verdict goes, I was wondering if we could find her a job in chambers. It won’t be easy for her to make ends meet as a single mother.’
‘Essex Court is not a crèche,’ said Sir Julian, putting down his coffee. ‘We’re a professional legal chambers.’
‘I’d be happy to take her on as an investigator,’ said Clare. ‘She’s bright and capable, and the fact that she fell in love with the wrong man doesn’t mean she’s not entitled to a second chance.’
‘Why not employ Summers while you’re at it?’ said Sir Julian. ‘After all, he might be also looking for a job.’
‘Is your father always this chippy?’ whispered Clare to her partner.
‘Only after he’s sat down for the last time and thinks of questions he should have asked.’
The waitress returned to their table. ‘Will there be anything else, sir?’
Booth Watson looked at his watch. ‘No, just the bill,’ he said, while making no attempt to pay.
Summers smiled at the waitress as she gave him the bill. He glanced at the figure, £7.80, and handed over ten pounds.
‘Keep the change.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow,’ Summers added with a grin.
Booth Watson didn’t offer an opinion other than to say, ‘Time to make a move. We’d better get back before the judge, otherwise we could both end up in the dock.’
They left the restaurant and made their way back to court number one, where Summers returned to the dock, while Booth Watson took his place on the front bench; both of them sat back and waited for Mr Justice Ramsden to return and begin his summing-up.
As two o’clock struck, the judge entered, a large red folder tucked under his right arm. Like the two leading counsels, he’d also spent most of the night polishing his summation, which was among the most difficult he’d had to write in a long career.
He sat down in his high-backed chair, rearranged his long black gown and smiled down at the assembled gathering, but the smile disappeared when he observed that the Crown’s leader was not in his place. Nor was his junior. He checked his half-hunter to see it was three minutes past the hour. By the fourth minute, he was tapping his fingers impatiently on his open folder, and by the fifth he was becoming increasingly irritated. He had never known Sir Julian Warwick to be late for the start of a session.
Booth Watson made no attempt to repress a smirk as the clock reached six minutes past the hour, and the court doors swung open. Sir Julian, Grace and Clare came rushing in.
‘I do apologize, m’lud,’ said the Crown’s leader, while still on the move.
Mr Justice Ramsden nodded curtly. ‘When you are quite ready, Sir Julian,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I might be permitted to begin my summing-up.’
‘Before you call the jury back, m’lud,’ said Sir Julian, slightly out of breath, ‘I hope you will allow me to make a legal submission.’
‘As you wish,’ said the judge, reluctantly closing his folder and sitting back in his chair.
‘With your permission, m’lud, I would like to recall a witness, as some important new evidence has emerged.’
‘That, as you well know, Sir Julian, would be highly irregular at this stage in proceedings.’
‘I accept that, m’lud. Nevertheless, if this new evidence were not brought to the attention of the jury, it might undermine the whole purpose of these proceedings. The jury, I am sure you will agree, must be given all the relevant and admissible evidence if they are to come to a considered judgement in this case.’
‘Do you have any objection to Sir Julian recalling a witness?’ asked Mr Justice Ramsden, turning his attention to the other end of the bench.
‘I most certainly do, m’lud,’ said Booth Watson, rising from his place. ‘This would, as you’ve suggested, be highly irregular, considering that the trial has almost concluded, and all that remains before the jury retires is your summing-up.’
‘I hear you, Mr Booth Watson, and will need a few moments to consider Sir Julian’s request.’
Loud chattering broke out the moment the judge had closed the door behind him. Booth Watson was conducting an urgent whispered discussion with his junior about who the witness could possibly be, and more important, what new evidence the Crown had come up with.
The clock had reached the thirty-sixth minute past the hour before the door opened once again and Mr Justice Ramsden reappeared. The court fell silent as everyone waited for his pronouncement.
‘I have given your request some considerable thought, Sir Julian,’ he said, ‘and decided that the court will hear this witness’s new evidence before I deliver my summing-up.’
‘He must have sought the Lord Chancellor’s advice,’ growled Booth Watson to his junior, ‘so there’s not much point in objecting.’
The judge waited for the jury to return and take their places before saying, ‘Who is it you wish to recall, Sir Julian?’
‘Detective Inspector William Warwick, m’lud,’ replied prosecuting counsel.
The judge nodded, and the clerk of the court bellowed, ‘Call Detective Inspector William Warwick.’
William entered the court moments later. On his way to the witness box he handed an envelope to Clare.
‘I’m sure I don’t have to remind you, Detective Inspector,’ said the judge, ‘that you are still under oath.’