I buck up me courage, start to look round. Is a shock to see how many people sitting in row after row, all jammed together. And everywhere I look, all I see is angry faces. Not one friendly one in sight. Off to the side, I notice a group of free coloureds. Ladies and gentlemen dressed in them Sunday best. I look to see if Mistress Josephine is there, but she is not. No sign of Winnie, either. It would give me strength to see a kindly face I know.

The clock on the wall strike ten times.

Since the court session start, Mister Jackson and Mister Grignon been presenting them case. They look like two peacocks showing off them feathers. And many in the crowd starting to get restless. Finally the talking over and the judge say, ‘Mister Jackson, please call your first witness.’

Mister Jackson call on Doctor Watson. Him been coming to the plantation from since I was a boy. Cut off old cripple Jonnie leg. Him often used to join Massa and Mistress Margaret for dinner. Stay the night.

‘You were called in to where Mister Mowatt was lying in the parlour. Is this correct, Doctor Watson?’

‘Yes, I attended to Mister Mowatt.’

‘Please tell the court what you observed.’

Doctor Watson pull out a little book and start to read from him notes.

‘As the stocking of the deceased appeared to have been torn, the shoe off, the ankle rubbed, I surmised he had been thrown from his horse. But I could not account precisely for the accumulation of blood in his neck and for that which came from his body.’

Doctor Watson turn him gaze hard on Stella and me before him say, ‘Both wounds, however, had clearly arisen from personal violence.’

‘Objection, Your Honour,’ Mister Grignon say, jumping up. ‘On the one hand, Doctor Watson says he cannot account for the accumulation of blood on Mister Mowatt’s person, but then assumes that it was caused by personal violence.’

The judge look at Mister Grignon and him look back. ‘Objection sustained. Clerk, strike the last sentence from the record.’ Mister Jackson not happy and neither is the crowd. They start to murmur loud enough for the judge to bang on him little wooden block.

‘Please continue, Mister Jackson.’

‘So, Doctor, even though you don’t know the cause, you are positive Cargill Mowatt died from the wounds to his neck and the back of his body.’

‘Yes. The wounds were very deep. He lost a great deal of blood. There was nothing I could do for the poor man. I and his mother sat with him through the night. He died the following morning.’

‘Thank you, Doctor Watson. That will be all. You may step down.’

Doctor Watson open the little gate to the dock and head back out the court.

‘Please call your next witness, Mister Jackson,’ the judge say.