“But that doesn’t apply to the choirboy,” said Faulkner.
“Agreed, but the Crown won’t be letting him anywhere near the witness box. It would be too much of a risk.”
“Then why don’t we call him?”
“Also too much of a risk. Warwick’s an unknown quantity, and barristers always like to know the answer before they ask a question. That way, they can’t be taken by surprise. So frankly, Miles, I need you to be at your sparkling best, because the most important thing in the jury’s minds when they’re considering their verdict will be your credibility.”
“No pressure,” said Miles.
“You’ve been in tight spots before.”
“Never this tight.”
“That’s why you have to be on the top of your game.”
“And if I’m not?”
Booth Watson drained his coffee before replying, “You won’t be having bacon and eggs at the Savoy again for some considerable time.”
THE CROWN V. RAINSFORD
“My Lords, in the tradition of the English criminal bar, a leader may call upon his junior to conduct one of the examinations in chief during a trial. With Your Lordships’ permission, I will invite my junior to examine the next witness.”
“Permission granted, Sir Julian,” responded Lord Justice Arnott after a brief consultation with his colleagues. He then gave Grace the warmest smile he’d managed throughout the trial.
Grace rose unsteadily to her feet, aware that not only was everyone staring at her, but Arthur Rainsford’s fate now rested in her hands. All those years of study and training, not to mention the hours spent at the feet of her father as he interpreted the law and explained court procedure to her. Now he was passing on the baton, expecting her to run the final lap.
Sir Julian sat back, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that he was just as nervous as his daughter. It didn’t help Grace that her mother was seated between Beth and Joanna Rainsford at the back of the court, both leaning forward and looking like football fans eagerly awaiting the first goal.
Grace placed her file on the little stand her father had given her on the day she joined him in chambers. She opened it, looked down at the first page and her mind went blank.
“Are you ready to call the next witness, Ms. Warwick?” asked Lord Justice Arnott, sounding like a benevolent uncle.
“We call Professor Leonard Abrahams,” said Grace, surprised by how self-assured her voice sounded, because her legs weren’t experiencing the same confidence.
If the courtroom door hadn’t opened and closed, observers might have been forgiven for wondering if the next witness had actually entered the room. Abrahams blinked, looked around, and finally spotted the witness box in the far corner of the court. When he reached it, he was surprised to find that there was no chair for him to sit in, and that he would be expected to remain standing throughout his cross-examination. Typical of the British, he thought.
The clerk held up a card, showing no surprise that the witness was wearing a short white lab coat and an open-necked green shirt. Abrahams placed one hand on the Bible—well, at least the Old Testament—before reading out the words, “I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” before adding, “so help me God.”
He then peered around the courtroom, relieved to see that his little box of tricks had been set out on the floor between the witness box and the three judges, just as he’d requested.
His gaze finally settled on Grace, one of the brightest young women he’d come across in many years of teaching bright young women. He’d liked her from the moment they’d met at Heathrow, but it was only later that he’d come to respect her grasp of detail and her patient pursuit of the facts as well as her passionate belief in justice. He wondered if Sir Julian realized just how talented his daughter was.
“Professor Abrahams,” said Grace, “I would like to begin by asking you about your background, in order that their lordships may appreciate the particular skills and expertise you bring to this case.” He’d become so used to Grace calling him Len, that he was taken by surprise when she addressed him as professor. “What is your nationality, professor?”
“I’m an American, although I was born in Poland. I emigrated to the United States at the age of seventeen, when I won a scholarship to study physics at Columbia University in New York. I completed my doctorate at Brown, when I