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‘I wish to see the case to its conclusion, my lord. But one of the lawyers in my chambers has met with a rather serious accident, and I am ordered to appear in his place as soon as possible.’
‘I believe you told us that yesterday,’ the judge said soberly. ‘When are you due to appear, and where, Mr Pitt?’
‘The Old Bailey, my lord. This morning . . .’
‘Indeed. How are they managing without you?’
Sefton gave a snort. The judge looked at him, and he looked away.
‘Then you had better finish your argument, Mr Pitt, and hope the Old Bailey manages without you for a little longer. I imagine the jury will not keep us too long, but will hasten with their proceedings.’
‘Yes, my lord, thank you,’ Daniel said humbly.
Indeed, it was not long. The verdict was delivered before noon: a unanimous not guilty. Daniel stayed long enough to receive Blackwell’s overwhelming gratitude, and Mercy’s thanks almost to the point of tears, which infuriated her. But she had been badly frightened, and she knew how close she had come to losing the son she loved.
Sefton was generous about it, but it cost him dearly. For him, the matter was delayed, but far from finished.
Ottershaw had enjoyed himself enormously, and promised to take Daniel to the best luncheon he had had, at some time convenient to him.
Daniel raced out to catch a cab to the Old Bailey.
Chapter Three
Daniel had been to the Old Bailey before. How could he resist it? But he had only been able to visit as a member of the general public. It was one of the most famous courts in the world, certainly within the British Empire. But this was an entirely different situation. He was probably not going to say anything, just do errands and take messa
ges for Kitteridge. He would also be looking up legal references, and would have to be both quick and accurate. Kitteridge would tolerate no mistakes or delays.
Kitteridge was a gangly man, with a most unusual face and a curious taste in neckties, or cravats. He had once been a junior himself, and had worked hard to improve his standing in the firm. He deserved his position, he cherished it, and he believed that Daniel had to prove his worth before he could aspire to anything like it. Kitteridge’s father had been a well-respected headmaster of one of the better private schools for boys, but he was very well aware that Pitt’s father was Sir Thomas Pitt, the Head of Special Branch. Kitteridge felt Daniel had benefited from nepotism, and did not approve.
Daniel explained to the usher that he was assistant to Mr Kitteridge, counsel for the defence.
The usher looked him up and down with disfavour. ‘You are very late, sir.’
Daniel wanted to tell him that he was fresh from achieving a seemingly impossible victory in another court. However, he saw in the man’s eyes that no other court was worthy of mention, and instead merely apologised for his lateness.
The door opened for him and he was permitted into the packed courtroom.
He walked up the aisle between the rows of the crowded gallery, without once looking at the judge, and found his place in the front, beside Kitteridge. He slid into the seat silently.
‘Pitt, where the hell have you been?’ Kitteridge hissed at him. ‘You’d better have a damned good excuse. If you slept in, I’ll have your head on a plate. I don’t care how late you were last night, or in whose bed you slept, you’re not at university now. This is reality.’ He turned away and studied the papers in front of him.
‘I was in court, in Greenwich,’ Daniel replied.
‘For what? Drunk and disorderly?’ Kitteridge asked with an edge to his voice.
‘The trial was for murder,’ Daniel answered.
Kitteridge swung around to look at him. ‘What were you? A witness?’
‘Appearing for the defence,’ Daniel said.
‘And what? You left the poor bastard to swing?’ he said with incredulity.
‘I got him off – with forensic evidence.’ Daniel kept the smile from his face with difficulty. ‘Reputation of the firm, and all that. As you constantly remind me.’
‘We are waiting for you, Mr Kitteridge,’ the judge interrupted sourly. ‘May we take it that you have nothing to ask of this witness?’
Kitteridge rose to his feet, biting back his anger. ‘As a matter of fact, my lord, I do. My assistant has only just arrived. He was held up by unforeseen circumstances.’
