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Chapters (59)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for I Know What I Saw
  3. By the Same Author
  4. Dedication Page
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. Now read on for a preview
  55. 1
  56. 2
  57. 3
  58. 4
  59. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Jan looks round to me with her eyebrows raised high. There is anger and confusion on her face. She mutters something to the judge about further instructions and comes to the back of the court where I am gesticulating at her.

‘What is this, Xander?’ she says in a heavy whisper.

‘The stabbing. Squire. They can’t use that, can they?’ I say.

‘Why not? And why didn’t you think of mentioning this to me?’

‘Because,’ I whisper back, ‘they dropped it.’

‘Dropped it?’

‘Yes. They said NFA.’

She makes a note of this on her pad and returns to her place.

‘Thank you, Your Honour. My understanding is that the stabbing that the Crown is alluding to with reference to Mr Squire was NFA’d by the police. In the circumstances it is completely improper for the Crown to attempt to influence your decision by that means. If there was evidence, they would have charged him. The fact that they didn’t charge him, if anything proves that there was no evidence against my client. And finally, Your Honour, if Mr Shute was a danger and he did murder this victim, what we can be sure of is that he hasn’t presented a danger to anybody since that time, nearly thirty years ago.’

The judge looks at me and then at the two lawyers.

‘I’m going to rise to consider my decision,’ he says, and leaves to the refrain of ‘All rise’.

39

Friday

Although the judge is out of the courtroom, everyone else stays, like actors milling around waiting to perform. If they could, everyone would be lighting up; instead they chat. The woman in the gown is talking to the prosecutor about her holiday. The gaolers are talking to one another about some member of staff who has been fiddling with the rotas. And I am here in a well of light, behind glass, looking at my hands.

Jan finishes scribbling something and comes to speak to me between the gaps in the glass wall.

‘He’s just going to decide. Shouldn’t be too long. Did you catch the rest of it?’ she says.

‘No. What’s the rest?’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all later but basically, whatever happens with bail, your case is being listed soon for pleas.’