Stepping from the far side of the car was Santino’s younger sister Marina, who had been by her brother’s side at his committal hearing and every other public appearance. Marina was there to demonstrate the adamantine support being offered to John by his wealthy and tightly interlocked family. His father, the patriarch of the Santino family, had started out as a labourer and ended up making serious money in the concreting business which the elder sons now ran. John had never worked in the family trade and instead had been indulged, bailed out of several failed ventures, installed in a huge apartment in Darlinghurst and, in recent years, had been subsidised by family money to run a couple of bars in the eastern suburbs.

Marina walked around the vehicle to join her brother. She was made up for the cameras, her dark hair freshly blow-waved and clothing carefully chosen—today’s corporate suit with a high-throated silk shirt was considerably toned down from the sexy clubbing outfits Anita had seen in Marina’s posts on Instagram.

Santino lunged over to help another woman out of the back seat of the car. Brooke Lester had been photographed on Santino’s arm several times over the last year, but it wasn’t until she stepped out onto the footpath that everyone could see she was pregnant.

Anita noticed Brooke tug on the waistband of her skirt where it was cutting across the tightness of her belly. The pencil skirt was too restrictive, even with one of those expandable maternity panels at the front. Along with her stiffly fitted jacket, low-cut clingy jersey top and high heels, it was an uncomfortable outfit for a pregnant woman.

The TV journos peppered Brooke with questions about her pregnancy, and after a huddled conversation with John Santino and Gilbert Woodburn, Marina was the one delegated to speak to the media.

‘Yes, as you can see, my brother’s beautiful partner Brooke is thirty weeks pregnant. Our whole family is thrilled. We pray that the truth will come out and my brother will be acquitted, so he can be the wonderful father I know he will be. Thank you.’

With his usual smooth choreography, Gilbert Woodburn swept the three of them away from the media pack. Just outside the entrance, there was one last moment of pageantry.

Marina took Brooke’s hands and held them in her own for a moment. ‘I’m not allowed to be in there with you today,’ she said. She was on the defence witness list, so could not attend court as an observer until after her testimony.

Before she left, Marina Santino made a show of hugging her brother, then clasped his and Brooke’s hands together, urging him, ‘Take care of her.’