The chosen one couldn’t have appeared at first glance to be a less likely leader, even of this disparate group. He must have been around sixty, and not an inch over five foot four, bald and wearing a three-piece suit, white shirt, and a striped tie that Giles guessed represented his club or his old school. You would have passed him in the street without giving him a first look. But the moment he opened his mouth, everyone understood why he had been selected. He spoke with a quiet authority, and Giles wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he was a solicitor, a schoolmaster, or even a senior civil servant.

“Mr. Foreman,” the judge said, leaning forward, “have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?”

“No, my lady,” he replied in a calm, measured voice. “But I felt we ought to inform you of the impasse we have reached, in the hope you might advise us what we should do next.”

“I will certainly try,” said Mrs. Justice Lane, as if she was dealing with a trusted colleague.

“We have taken the vote a number of times, and on each occasion it has resulted in an eight-to-four deadlock. We were not certain if there was any purpose in us continuing.”

“I wouldn’t want you to give up at this early stage,” said the judge. “Considerable time, effort, and expense has been invested in this trial, and the least any of us can do is to be absolutely sure we have made every effort to reach a verdict. If you think it might help, I would be willing to accept a majority verdict of ten to two, but nothing less will be acceptable.”

“Then we will try again, my lady,” said the foreman and, without another word, he led his little band back out of the court, with the bailiff bringing up the rear of an exclusive club that no one else would be invited to join.

Once the door had closed behind them, a babble of chattering broke out, even before the judge had made her exit.

“Who’s got eight, and who’s got four?” was Virginia’s first question.

“You have the eight,” said Sir Edward, “and I can identify almost every one of them.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Two reasons. While the foreman was speaking to the judge, I kept my eyes on the jury, and the majority of them were looking at you. Juries, in my experience, don’t look at the loser.”

“And the other reason?”

“Take a look at Trelford and you’ll see an unhappy man, because he will have carried out the same exercise.”

“Who got the majority?” asked Giles.