Stone nodded. “Leslie says St. Marks juries don’t like to be late for dinner. An early verdict would normally be in our favor, but in this case, I don’t know what to think. Leslie says that the relationship between individual jurors and Sir Winston is going to be the deciding factor.”

“Relationship?” Kramer said. “They have a relationship with him?”

“It’s a small island,” Stone said. “If one of them has something to fear from Sir Winston, he’s unlikely to vote our way.”

“That would be grounds for appeal in the States,” Forrester said.

“The appeal here is to the good nature, or perhaps the whim, of the prime minister, who’s eighty-nine,” Stone said.

“Do you think some of the pressure brought to bear on the government will have some effect on the outcome?” Kramer asked.

Stone shook his head. “I don’t know what that pressure could mean to any of the jurors. I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to go to trial.” He looked back to the defense table, where Hewitt and Allison were deep in conversation. “Leslie was wonderful, wasn’t he?”

“He sure got in his digs at Sir Winston,” Forrester agreed.

“Apparently he’s spent his life digging at the government,” Stone said. “Well, I’d better get back and reassure Allison. Will you both be staying for the verdict?”

“Sure we will,” Kramer said.

“See you later, then.” Stone walked back to the defense table and sat down. “What have you two been talking about?” he asked.

“I’ve just been telling Leslie what a wonderful job both of you have done,” Allison said, smiling. “After what I’ve heard here today, I’m very optimistic.”

“So am I,” Stone said, though he knew he would be uneasy until the jury came in.

“The important thing to remember,” Hewitt said, “is that even if the verdict goes against us, it’s not over. We still have the opportunity for appeal, and I think our position would be excellent.”

“I hope it doesn’t go that far,” Stone said.

“So do I,” Allison echoed.

They became silent, each wrapped in his own thoughts.

It was growing dark outside, and the bailiff rose from his desk and began turning on lights in the courtroom.

Sir Leslie Hewitt looked at his watch. “Almost nine o’clock,” he said. “I must say, I’m encouraged; I’ve never known a jury to stay out this long, so they must be deliberating very diligently.”

Most of the spectators had given up and gone home, but the reporters from the Times and The New Yorker still sat in the gallery, waiting.

“I’m hungry,” Allison said.

“I wish we could go out to dinner,” Hewitt said, “but I’m afraid the bailiff wouldn’t allow it. If you want to eat now, I can see that you’re fed in a cell.”

“No, I’ll wait,” Allison sighed.