Authors: Colin MacInnes
‘It’s my police notebook, sir.’
‘Exactly. Officers of the Crown, when giving evidence, are permitted to refer, for matters of fact – and matters of fact only – to the notes they made of a case immediately after they have performed their duties. Very well. Now, Detective-Inspector, will you please tell my Lord and members of the jury what happened, in your own words?’
In his own words, and prompted only slightly by Mr Gillespie, the officer related the detailed minutiae of the events the counsel had already outlined. By the time of the third, fourth and fifth seeing of Dorothy taking money in the park, and seeing her giving it to Johnny in the Immigration Road, the tale began to lose some of its human fascination, even though its cumulative substance added greatly to the ‘weight of evidence’.
Mr Gillespie sat down, and Mr Wesley Vial arose.
‘Detective-Inspector,’ he said. ‘Do you know who the defendant is?’
‘Who he is, sir? He’s an African.’
‘Yes. Quite so. An African. But can you tell us anything about him?’
‘I have, sir.’
‘Yes, Inspector, we know you have. But I mean who he is? His family? His background? What sort of man the court has got before it?’
‘No, sir. He said he was a student.’
‘He said he was a student. Did you enquire of what?’
‘No, sir.’
‘You didn’t. Did you know this young man’s father, Mr David Macdonald Fortune, wears the King’s Medal for valour which was awarded to him when he was formerly a sergeant in the Nigerian police force?’
‘No, sir.’
‘You didn’t bother to find out what sort of man you had to deal with? It didn’t interest you. Is that it?’
The judge stirred himself slightly, as if from a distant dream. ‘I can’t quite see the relevance of that, Mr Vial,’ he said, in a melancholy, croaking voice. ‘It’s not the accused’s father who’s before me.’
Mr Vial bowed. ‘True, my Lord. But your Lordship will appreciate, I’m sure, how vital it is for me, in a case of this description – that is, a case where the defendant is a citizen of one of the colonies of our Commonwealth – to establish clearly his social standing and reputation. The members of the jury’ (Mr Vial inclined himself courteously towards them) ‘may not be as familiar as we have grown to be, my Lord, with what very different sorts of African citizen are now to be found here in England among us: some, no doubt, with a background of a kind that might render an accusation of this nature unfortunately all too credible, but others – as I hope to show you is the case at present – in whom such conduct would be as totally improbable as it would were I, my Lord, or Mr Gillespie here, to be said to indulge in it.’
There was a hush, while everyone digested this. ‘Yes. Well, do proceed, please, Mr Vial,’ said the judge.
The defending counsel turned once more to the Crown witness.
‘You have, in fact, Inspector – apart, of course, from the present case – nothing to say against the defendant?’
‘No, sir. He’s got no police record.’
‘Exactly. He’s got no police record. And has he, at any time, made any statement in writing, or any verbal statement concerning the charge, by which he admits his guilt in any particular whatever?’
‘No, sir.’
‘So we’re left with what you and your officers have seen, Inspector.’
The Inspector didn’t answer. Mr Vial looked up, and barked at him, ‘I say, we’re left with what you tell us that you’ve seen. Will you please answer me, Inspector?’
‘I didn’t know you were asking me a question, sir.’
‘You didn’t know I was asking you a question. Very well. Now, I want you to tell us about these happenings in Hyde Park. You saw this woman accost various men at various times on various evenings, take money from them, and disappear with them into the …’ (Mr Vial looked at his notes) ‘… yes, into the undergrowth, I think it was. Now let us take the first evening: the evening you tell us that the defendant later received twenty-eight pounds from this woman. How many men accosted her?’
‘Five or six, sir.’
‘Five – or six? Which was it? You may consult your notebook if you wish.’
‘Six, sir.’
‘So each man would have paid an average of four pounds thirteen shillings and four pence for this woman’s services?’
‘Not necessarily, sir. She could have had some money in her bag before she went inside the park.’
‘In her what, Inspector?’
‘She could have had some money in her bag before she went there.’
‘What bag?’
‘The bag she put the money in, sir.’
‘Oh.’ Mr Vial picked up a document. ‘But in the magistrates’ court, I see you told his Worship that this woman put the money in her raincoat pocket.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Sometimes she put it in her raincoat pocket, and sometimes she put it in her bag, is that it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I see. And then she went with these people into the undergrowth. How dark was this undergrowth?’
‘Quite light enough to keep her under observation, sir.’
‘Come now, Inspector. Are you telling the court a woman of this description would take a man, in a public locality like Hyde Park, into a place that was dark enough for her purposes, but light enough to be observed by two police officers – standing at a certain distance from her, I suppose?’
‘We were quite near enough, sir, to see whatever happened.’
‘You were quite near enough. And she never saw you?’
‘No, sir.’
‘On no occasion? Not once on all these evenings
when you and your colleague stood peering at her while she went into the undergrowth with all these dozens of men?’
‘She gave no sign of being seen, sir.’
‘Not even when you followed her home?’
‘No, sir.’
‘What did she travel home on? A bus? A tube?’
‘She usually took a bus to Victoria station, and then a tube, sir.’
‘She usually did. Aren’t prostitutes in the habit of taking taxis? Isn’t that notorious?’
‘Not all of them, sir. Not always.’ The officer consulted his notebook. ‘She took a taxi one night, but it’s not been referred to in my evidence.’
‘So you followed her by bus, or tube, or taxi to the Immigration Road – and then what?’
‘We saw her go into the house, sir.’
‘Saw her how? Did you follow her inside?’
‘No, sir. We kept observation from the street.’
‘So you must have seen her through the window. Is that it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘This window had no curtains, I suppose. Is that what you have to tell us?’
‘Yes, sir, it had. But they weren’t always drawn over it.’
‘Not always drawn across the window in the depths of winter?’
‘Not always, sir.’
Mr Vial paused for quite ten seconds. ‘Officer,’ he
said, ‘if you, or I, or anyone else in his right mind were going to hand a large sum of money over to somebody else, even for a perfectly legitimate reason, would we really do it in front of an open, uncurtained window on the ground floor of a house in a busy street of a not particularly salubrious neighbourhood?’
‘That’s what they did, sir.’
‘And if the transaction was a highly illegal one, as it would be in the present instance, wouldn’t there be all the more reason to hand the money over behind closed doors and out of sight?’
‘These people are very careless, sir. They’re often under the influence of alcohol, and other things.’
‘They’d need to be! They’d certainly need to be, to behave so rashly!’ Mr Vial gazed in amazement at the judge, at the jury, at Mr Gillespie, and back again at the Detective-Inspector. ‘Now, Inspector,’ he said gently. ‘Please understand I’m not questioning your good faith in any respect. You’re an experienced officer, as my learned friend has said, and there can therefore be no question of that at all … But don’t you think, from what you tell us, it’s possible you were mistaken?’
‘No, sir. She gave him the money like I said.’
‘On half a dozen occasions, a prostitute takes money out of her handbag, or raincoat, or whatever it was, and hands it over to a man in a lighted room without the curtain drawn across in full view of the general public, and does it all so slowly that anyone standing outside could count the exact number of pound notes? Is that what you’re telling us?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Thank you, Inspector.’ Mr Vial sat down.
The Detective-Constable was called. Examined by Mr Gillespie, he confirmed his colleague’s account in all essential particulars. Mr Wesley Vial rose again.
‘How long have you been with the CID, Detective-Constable?’
‘Two months, sir.’
‘This is your first case as a CID officer?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Before you joined the CID, did your duties bring you in contact with this sort of case at all?’
‘No, sir. I was in Records.’
‘You were in Records. Now, Constable. Since this case was first brought in the magistrates’ court, you have discussed it, naturally, with the Inspector?’
‘I’ve talked about the case in general, sir. I haven’t discussed the details of the evidence.’
‘Of course not. The evidence you gave is entirely your own, isn’t it? But you’ve relied on the guidance of your superior officers to a certain extent as to how you should put it to the court?’
The judge made a slight noise. ‘I don’t think you should ask the witness that, Mr Vial,’ he said. ‘You needn’t answer, Constable.’
‘As you say, my Lord. I have no further questions.’
The Detective-Constable left the box and went and sat by the Inspector, who gave him a slight, official smile. ‘Call the defendant,’ said the usher.
Johnny Fortune left the dock, walked firmly through
the court and took the oath. The assembly regarded him with a slightly increased respect; for whatever the outcome of the case, a person in the witness-box seems a very different person from one sitting between two policemen in the dock.
Mr Vial faced his client with a look stern as Gabriel’s, and said: ‘John Macdonald Fortune: do you know what living off the immoral earnings of a woman means?’
‘Yes. I do know.’
‘Have you lived off the immoral earnings of this woman?’
‘No. Never.’
‘Have you ever lived off the immoral earnings of any woman?’
‘Never! Never would I give my blood to such a person. Never!’
Mr Vial sat down. Mr Gillespie arose.
‘You say you’re a student,’ he began. ‘A student of what?’
‘Of meteorology.’
The judge leant forward. ‘What was that word?’
‘Meteorology, my Lord. I’m not quite sure what it is, but no doubt we’ll discover. And how long is it since you attended your last lecture?’
‘Is some months now.’
‘Why? Is your college on holiday?’
‘No. I give up these studies.’
‘So now you’re not studying anything?’
‘No.’
‘You’ve not been a student for some months, in fact?’
‘No.’
‘And what have you lived on?’
‘I work in a labouring job.’
‘How long did you work in this labouring job?’
‘Some few week before I get arrested.’
‘Some few weeks. And at the time you were living with this woman, were you working?’
‘Listen to me, sir. I live some few week when I have no money with this woman.’
‘So you
did
live with her? You admit that?’
The judge croaked again. ‘There’s just a point here, Mr Gillespie, I think. It’s possibly the language difficulty, you know.’ He looked at Johnny. ‘You say you lived
with
this woman. Do you mean simply that you lived in the same house, or flat, or room, or do you mean that you lived there as man and wife?’
‘She not my wife.’
‘We know that,’ said Mr Gillespie. ‘What his Lordship means is, did you have any carnal knowledge of this woman?’
‘Have what?’
‘Did you have intercourse with her?’
‘One time I have sex with that woman, yes. One time. But I take no money from her. Never.’
‘I see. You took no money from her. Who paid the rent?’
‘She pay it.’
‘Who bought the food?’
‘She buy some small food some time.’
‘So you’re telling us you lived in the same room as a common prostitute, alone with her, that you had intercourse with her, that you accepted board and lodging from her, and that you took no money from her? Is that it? Answer me, will you?’
‘Listen, man. I answer you. Never I take no money from that woman. Not even pennies for my bus fare.’
‘You really expect the court to believe that?’
‘I swear on this book here what I say will be true. And what I say is true.’
There was suddenly a yell from the public gallery. It was the Bushman. He shouted, ‘God is black!’ and was hustled out by a constable. The judge closed his eyes during this episode; then opened them, and said, ‘Please continue, Mr Gillespie.’
‘I have no more questions, my Lord.’
‘Mr Vial?’
The defending counsel bowed and shook his head. Johnny went back to the dock.
The judge blinked around the court. ‘Mr Gillespie, Mr Vial. Is there anything further before you address the jury?’
The counsel shook their heads.
‘Then I shall adjourn for luncheon before your final address.’
Everyone rose, the judge did so rather more slowly, and disappeared beneath the rampant lion and unicorn.
Mr Zuss-Amor stood with Montgomery outside the court, waiting for Theodora. ‘Well, there it is,’ said the solicitor. ‘I need hardly tell you that I think he’s had it.’
‘What does Mr Vial say?’
‘He won’t commit himself. But our boy made some horrible admissions. And that interruption from the gallery didn’t help at all.’
‘That wasn’t Johnny’s fault.’
‘I know it wasn’t, Mr Pew: but it made a very bad impression. Was that boy drunk, or what?’
‘No. Just voicing his feelings, I expect.’
‘I wish he’d voiced them elsewhere.’
‘I didn’t think the police officers were all that brilliant, anyway.’
‘Oh, they’re not so clever in court as they are outside it, I admit. But they do know when to keep their mouths shut.’
‘The Inspector was the more convincing …’
‘He should be, he’s been lying longer.’