‘Hi, do you need me?’ he asked. ‘I thought we were all set for today.’ But then he stopped and stepped out of the stream of pedestrians into a shop doorway, so he could listen with closer attention. Anita could faintly hear the voice on the other end talking rapidly, with the high pitch of someone in a panic.

‘What? Oh no … How is she? Can you find out more?’ Rohan asked. Pausing to press the phone against his chest, he said to Anita, ‘Irene Pileris was in an accident last night. Her bike skidded—road was wet or something—and she slammed into a bus shelter.’ Then he went back to his call. ‘Yes, please, mate—whatever you can tell me would be helpful.’

Anita waited in the shop doorway with Rohan, watching his anxious face as he called more people.

Finally, he slapped his phone against his forehead in frustration and turned to her. ‘Irene’s basically okay but she’s having surgery now and in hospital for—well, I don’t know, a while.’

‘Can’t the DPP get an adjournment?’

‘Argued for it, but no go,’ he said. ‘So the junior guy has to finish the trial.’

‘That’s Hugh Warby. I don’t really know him. What’s he like?’

Rohan grimaced. ‘Look, he’s not a total idiot.’

‘Oh fuck … okay. Still, still, let’s not be silly about this. The prosecution’s been strong up to now and you told me there’s some dynamite stuff to come.’

‘There is,’ Rohan confirmed. ‘Great eyewitness. Even better piece of audio.’

‘Good. Good. It’ll be okay.’

Walking into Court 3, Anita saw Hugh Warby, the junior barrister now running the Crown case, at the bar table, rearranging his white folders, looking sweaty and flustered before the day had even started. The poor guy was anxious that he was out of his depth and that anxiety was dragging him further out to sea.

His first task was to question Maram Hafda, the nineteen-year-old woman who had been walking near the overpass when Kendra was killed. According to Rohan, Maram was the kind of eyewitness you want—a bit too young, perhaps, but smart, sober and unconnected to the people involved.

On the stand, Maram started off well, even while Warby stammered out awkwardly worded questions as if he’d lost his grasp of syntax.

‘Can you, Ms Hafda—you can describe—well, can you, for us, relate the … You were that day walking close to the overpass at the—hold on, let me be absolutely accurate re the street …’

Despite him, Maram was lucid and composed as she described the two people arguing on the overpass. She observed the man aggressively grab the woman and yank her around, as he yelled abusive things, including, ‘Is this what you want, you stupid bitch?’ She heard the woman repeatedly plead, ‘Let me go.’