Berry And Co. (15 page)

A plan of the spot at which the collision had taken place was produced and officially accepted by the defence. Then Jonah was called. He gave his evidence admirably, and all counsel’s endeavours to shake his confidence regarding the identity of the number-plate were of no avail. Daphne followed her cousin. She was a little nervous at first, and the Judge requested her to raise her voice. She responded gallantly, and the conviction with which she told her story in corroboration of Jonah produced a noticeable effect upon the Court. The result of her cross-examination was in our favour. I came next. Counsel for the defence made a great effort to pin me to a certain estimate of the speed at which the offending car was moving, but I scented danger and refused to be tied down.

It was considered unnecessary and not altogether expedient to expose our artless Jill to the mercies of our opponent’s team, and, when I stepped down from the box, my brother-in-law’s name was at once called by our junior counsel—

“Major Pleydell.”

His examination-in-chief was very short. As was to be expected, he made an excellent witness. I began to wonder whether the defendant would be so foolish as to appeal…

Perhaps because the cross-examination of his predecessors had been so barren, the leader for the defence rose to deal with Berry with a menacing air. He was a “silk,” whose obvious confidence in his ability was shared by few. Influence rather than merit had, I was told, won his admission to the Inner Bar, and the supercilious manner which he continually observed towards the Bench afforded a first-class exhibition of particularly bad form.

“This mysterious car,” he began, “that we’ve all heard so much about – you say it was green?”

“I do,” said Berry.

“What sort of green?”

“A bilious green.”

There was a subdued titter, and one of the jurymen made no attempt to disguise his amusement. The frown upon counsel’s face deepened.

“Was it a light or dark green, sir?”

“Light.”

“Might it have been grey?”

“It might. It might have been a beautiful ruby pink. But it wasn’t. It was just green.”

A second titter, more pronounced than before, ran round the Court, and counsel flushed angrily.

“You have sworn that it was an open car?”

“So it was.”

“And that there were two passengers?”

“So there were.”

“And that the one who was not driving was wearing a chauffeur’s uniform?”

“So he was.”

“Listen. You saw its colour, you noticed its style, you swear to the number of passengers, and were actually able to observe how one of them was clad. How is it that you cannot speak to its number?”

“I will tell you. I was sitting—”

“On your oath, sir!”

“No, on the back seat.” There was more than a ripple of laughter, and the Judge shot a quick glance at counsel before removing his
pince-nez
and sitting back in his chair. “The heads and shoulders of Mrs Pleydell and Captain Mansel, who were seated in front, obscured my view.”

“Wasn’t it because the car was travelling too fast?”

“Certainly not. They saw it.”

“That is a matter of opinion.”

“It is a matter of fact,” was the retort.

“It is easy to be rude, Major Pleydell.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Counsel appealed to the Judge.

“My lord, I must ask your lordship—”

“I see no reason to interfere,” was the cold reply.

Counsel swallowed before proceeding. He was one of those who cannot let ill alone.

“The truth is,” he announced, as if by way of conclusion, “that your recollection of the whole matter is extremely hazy, isn’t it?”

For a moment Berry regarded him. Then he leaned back in the box and folded his arms.

“You know,” he said, slowly shaking his head, “you know, you can’t be well.”

There was a roar of laughter.

“Never mind my health, sir,” was the heated reply.

“Oh, but I do,” said Berry. “ If you were to burst or anything, I should be all upset, I should.”

Again the Court, which was now packed, rocked with merriment. The tone in which counsel put his next question reeked of the insolence of anger.

“You consider your recollection clear?”

“As daylight. Let me explain—”

Counsel held up a deprecatory hand.

“Pray spare us. There was, I believe, a lot of dust.”

“There was.”

“Any amount of it?”

“Any amount. The road was thick with it.”

“And the air?”

“Any amount of that, too. For a windless day, I never—”

“No, no,
no!
Wasn’t the air thick with dust?”

“After the car had gone by – yes. It swallowed up the dog completely.”

“The dog?”

Berry started and looked round uneasily.

“Perhaps,” he stammered, “I shouldn’t have…”

Counsel rose at the bait like a carp upon the tenth of April.

“This is most interesting. You say the dust swallowed the dog?”

“Yes, and the dog swallowed the dust. It was quite remarkable.”

Amid the tempest of laughter counsel stood glowering.

“What dog are you referring to?”

“A Sealyham. When the car had gone by, he jumped out into the dust it had made and ran after it.”

Hurriedly counsel conferred with his client.

“Why didn’t you mention this dog before?”

“I didn’t think it necessary.”

“Did you tell your solicitor about it?”

“Yes. He didn’t think it necessary, either.”

“Really! You know, I thought we should get at something presently. Now, if the defendant didn’t happen to own a Sealyham, this would be rather a valuable piece of evidence to show that it wasn’t his car, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. You see—”

“Come, come, sir. Up to now nothing has been said of the offending car which could not be said with equal truth of the defendant’s.”

“I cordially agree.”

“Both are green, both open, both, according to your story, bear the same number.”

Berry nodded.

“Unquestionably,” he said.

“Wait. Supposing the defendant swears that he has never had a Sealyham or any other kind of terrier?”

“I don’t know that I should believe him, but I shouldn’t argue it. Perhaps he doesn’t like dogs.”

“You’d accept his statement?”

“For what it was worth.”

“Exactly. And if he had no terrier, it’s quite obvious that the car out of which the Sealyham jumped was not his, but somebody else’s?”

“Undoubtedly,” said Berry. “As a matter of fact, it was ours.”

The explosion of mirth which this statement provoked showed that his headlong progress towards the pit which he had digged had been gleefully followed by nearly everybody in Court, and counsel turned very pale.

“Have you ever discussed this case with any one?”

“I have.”

“Who with?”

Berry took a deep breath.

“Well, I haven’t seen my dentist lately, but I think everybody else I know has had it.”

“Have you discussed it with the other witnesses?”

“Ad nauseam.”

“Have you indeed? Perhaps that explains why you all tell the same tale?”

“That,” said Berry coolly, “is an infamous suggestion.”

Somebody gave an audible gasp, and there was a breathless silence. Sitting back in his padded chair, the Judge might have been a graven image.

“Sir?” thundered counsel interrogatively.

“And one beneath the dignity of even a stuff gown.”

For a long moment the two men looked one another full in the eyes. Then counsel sat down somewhat unsteadily…

Berry was followed by an expert witness, called to substantiate our contention that two hundred pounds was a fair charge for the execution of such repairs to the Rolls as the accident had necessitated, and that another two hundred for the hire of a similar car for the month during which our own was in dock, was not excessive.

As he stepped down from the box—

“That, my lord,” said our leader, “is the case for the plaintiff.”

It was a quarter to one when Berry’s antagonist rose again to his feet. Shortly he opened his case. Nothing, he said, was more difficult to prove than a negative. But for one thing, it might have gone hard with an innocent man. Everything looked very black, but, as luck would have it, most fortunately for himself, Mr Bladder could prove incontestably that upon the twenty-second of May his car never left its garage, for the very good reason that its engine was down. “I shall call the defendant, and I shall call before you his chauffeur. Both will tell you in detail that the dismantling of the engine was commenced at ten in the morning, and that by half-past twelve – a few minutes before the actual time of the accident – the operation was completed.” That the plaintiff had suffered an injury he did not attempt to deny. As a fellow-motorist, he had Mr Bladder’s whole-hearted sympathy. His annoyance was justified, but he could not expect Mr Bladder to pay the penalty for somebody else’s misdeeds. He had no doubt that the witnesses honestly believed that they had correctly memorized the letters and figures upon the number-plate. It was his duty to satisfy the Court that they were mistaken…

As he sat down, I realized that it was not going to be a walk-over.

Mr Douglas Bladder made a masterly witness. I have rarely seen a more accomplished liar. His regret was infinite. With horrified hands he deplored what he referred to as “the shocking affair.” He thundered unsought denunciation of “the dastardly conduct of some fugitive cur.” As a motorist, he “so well understood our feelings.” But – at length and with a wealth of detail he described how he and his chauffeur had spent the twenty-second of May. With the exception of an hour for lunch, they had worked on the car in the garage from ten o’clock until five. “It seemed a shame,” concluded the witness, “to waste such a beautiful day, but I had earmarked the twenty-second for the job, so we went through with it.”

A most dangerous thing in the hands of any witness, detail is seldom employed by the dishonest. It is not difficult safely to embroider a lie, but it apparently requires more thought, patience, and rehearsal than ninety-nine rogues out of a hundred are prepared to spend. It soon became unpleasantly clear that Mr Bladder was the hundredth knave, and that in return for his labour he had a story to tell which was as excellent an imitation of the truth as you might reasonably expect to hear in six whole months of Sundays.

I began to feel extremely uneasy.

To make matters worse, he came through his cross-examination untouched. For every question put to him he had a good natural answer, and, when he stepped down from the box and the Court rose at five-and-twenty minutes past one, it was with something of a shock that I found myself wondering whether by any possible chance a mistake had been made, and we were pursuing an innocent man.

Berry had engaged a table at the
Savoy
, and he and the others left immediately, for there was little time.

I stayed for a moment to speak with our advisers.

“It’s no use disguising the fact,” said counsel in a low tone, “that we are up against it. I believe that fellow to be a prize liar. He’s too infernally suave. But he knows his job inside out, and he’s shaken our case badly. I can’t speak for the Judge, but he’s impressed the jury, and you can’t get away from it. If his chauffeur comes up to the scratch, I believe they’ll stop the case.” I groaned, and he touched me on the shoulder. “You go and get your lunch,” he said.

Heavily I made my way out of the building.

I was waiting for the taxi to which I had signalled, when—

“I observe,” said a quiet voice, “that you don’t remember me.”

I swung round to see a tall dark girl with grey-blue eyes and a charming smile regarding me amusedly. But a moment before I had passed her upon the steps, and, as I did so, wondered what was her business with the Supreme Court. I took off my hat. Now that I saw her properly, her face seemed faintly familiar.

“Forgive me,” I said. “I was preoccupied.”

The smile deepened.

“I defy you to say where we have met before.”

I continued to rack my brain feverishly, but it was no good.

“I can’t concentrate,” I said desperately. “I can tell you where we shall meet again all right.”

“That’s not the point. Try Madrigal’s wedding.”

“Of course. You were one of her bridesmaids.”

“That’s better. How’s Nobby?”

The taxi was waiting, so I opened the door.

“I’ll tell you about him at lunch. We’ll find the others at the
Savoy
.”

She hesitated.

“It’s very good of you, but—”

“My sister,” I said gravely, “would never forgive me.”

The next moment we were rocketing past St Clement Danes.

“And now,” said I, “what have you been doing in the Palace of Lies? What incorruptible judge have you corrupted with your smile? What jury have you bewitched with your small mouth? Or are you just a ward in Chancery?”

My lady smiled.

“What a pity,” she said, “you can’t remember my name! However will you introduce me?”

“I shall call you Miss Prision of Treason,” said I, “and chance it. And what may I say you were doing in yonder Fool’s Paradise?”

“You’re very bitter and terribly inquisitive,” said my companion. “Still, if you must know, I came down to be taken to hear a case. I’ve got a brother at the Bar, and the little wretch told me to meet him there, and he’d get me in to hear a motor-car case.” I started. “Of course he never appeared, and I – my father was a KC, so I’m not frightened – I just walked in and sat down in the first court I came to. It wasn’t very interesting, but there were three judges. All in red, too. By the way, what’s arson?”

“Setting fire to a house. All on purpose like. But tell me. D’you know anything about the case you were to have heard?”

“Only that the head of Paul’s chambers is in it. That’s how he knew it would be interesting.”

“Is he in Tristram’s chambers?”

“How on earth did you know?”

As she spoke the taxi drew up at the entrance to the
Savoy
.

“Oh, it’s our precious case. That’s all.” I handed her out twittering. “Didn’t you know we’d had a smash on the day of the wedding?”