Mathew's Tale (14 page)

Finally Baird reappeared. ‘You have counsel,’ he declared, straight-faced but too smugly for Johnston’s liking. ‘Please return to the hall and he will come to consult with you.’

‘How will he know us?’ young Matt asked, his belligerence unchecked.

The clerk looked down his nose at him and laughed. ‘He may recognise your solicitor, or he may not, but if there is another one-eyed, scar-faced man out there, I will eat the buttons on my uniform.’

I would like to feed them to you, Magnus, one by one
, Mathew thought, but he stepped back into Parliament Hall in silence.

They had been waiting there for five minutes when the door to the Advocates’ Library opened once again and a young man stepped out. He was no taller than the fifteen-year-old Matt but draped in a robe that might have fitted Mathew. He carried his wig on his left hand and a familiar document in the other.

He looked around the hall, which was more full than it had been when the trio arrived, until his eyes settled on them, and he approached.

‘Mr Johnston?’ he ventured, looking hopefully at the solicitor.

‘Indeed,’ he replied. ‘And you are?’

‘Innes Irvine, advocate.’ He ticked the brief under his left arm and extended his hand to Johnston. ‘Honoured to meet you, sir.’

‘And I you. I confess that I have not heard your name before, Mr Irvine.’

‘That is no surprise, sir. I was called to the Bar only two weeks ago.’

Johnston frowned and held up a hand. ‘A moment, if you please.’ He drew Mathew to one side. ‘Graham has appointed the boots of the Faculty to lead the defence in a trial for a man’s life. Do you want to proceed, or do you want me to raise hell here, in a loud voice?’

‘Would that serve any purpose?’ Mathew asked. ‘Would it secure us a more acceptable person?’

‘No,’ the solicitor admitted, ‘there is no likelihood that it would. The Dean may appoint whoever he chooses.’

‘Then let us hear the young fellow out. He holds the brief as if it were a gold bar; that much is in his favour.’

They turned back to Irvine; standing beside Matt, he looked as if he might not be much the older of the two.

‘What was your university?’ Johnston asked.

‘Edinburgh, sir.’

‘A good beginning. What is your background?’

‘The law, sir. My father is a solicitor in Linlithgow, as was his father before him.’

‘Very good. As a pupil, to whom did you devil?’

‘To Mr Nigel Sutherland, KC; sadly he is seriously indisposed at the moment or I would have offered this brief to him. I am aware of the responsibility, and of the trust the Dean has placed in me.’

‘Ah, but I am not sure that you are fully aware. Do you know the Lord Advocate?’

‘Not at all, sir, nor anything about him save for one thing.’

‘And what is that?’

‘He is in an uncommon hurry to see our client hang.’

Beside him, young Matt blanched.

‘This is our client’s son,’ Johnston said, sharply. ‘He is also your principal witness.’

‘Then shall we consult on the matter as he is here?’

‘Indeed,’ Johnston glanced over his shoulder at other advocates promenading in the hall, in earnest conversation with other solicitors, ‘but not here. I see too many friends of Douglas, and their hearing will be keen. Let us all go to the coffee shop down the way. Is that acceptable to you, Mr Fleming?’

‘As long as the coffee justifies it.’

The establishment in question was in the High Street, just past the constabulary office. It was still well short of noon; there were a few other customers, but none that Johnston recognised as lawyers. They took a table by the window, where the three men ordered coffee, and scones with strawberry jelly, and young Matt asked for lemonade.

As they waited, the young advocate read through the brief once more, then looked up at Mathew, having identified him as the paymaster, and thus the person of greatest influence in the group.

‘May I speak freely in front of the boy, sir?’

‘You must; but please do not think of him as such. He’s here on man’s business, and must be treated thus.’

‘Very well. On the face of it, we have an open and shut case here, one which any advocate would rather prosecute than defend. But your persistence . . . indeed your very presence, Mr Fleming, for I know who you are, and that you are a very important person in the west of Scotland . . . that tells me there is more to this matter than what is set out in this hasty libel. The panel . . . that is to say the accused . . . is said to have shown extraordinary violence and displayed malice aforethought to the deceased. Can that be true?’

‘Aforethought or afterthought,’ Mathew said, ‘certainly not. Mr McGill was dismissed from his post by Sir Gregor Cleland, and employed by me on the very same day, on significantly better terms. If anything, he had cause to be grateful to Cleland; he and I laughed about that on more than one occasion.’

‘And will you attest to that under oath?’

‘Of course. As to the violence, I was not there, but if I had been, and had seen what had happened, I would have done as David did in response, only I would have disabled Gavin first, as I would not have left that man at my back with a pistol. But I was a soldier; David, on the other hand, had never been roused to such anger in his life. He was hot-blooded and left himself exposed to what has happened since.’

‘Left himself exposed on the day, you mean,’ Irvine corrected him.

‘No, sir, I do not. I have thought on this over the last few days, so I do not say it lightly. Consider if you will the width of a man’s back, and of his forehead. Even for the worst shot in the world, how difficult is it to miss a target that size from a distance of no more than three yards? Now consider the size of a man’s forehead. How difficult is it to hit a target of that size, slap in the centre? Gavin Cleland is not the worst shot in the world. His father was very proud of his sons’ prowess with the pistol. He spoke to me of it one day, when I delivered a saddle to him, because he knew I had been an infantryman. He even said that Gavin could hit a target from horseback, if he chose.’

‘You are saying?’ the advocate asked.

‘Nothing. Hear Matt’s story, think on what I have said and see what you think.’

He leaned back in his chair and listened as his young charge told Irvine the true story of what had happened on the previous Sunday.

‘What do you think?’ he asked when he was done.

‘I think, Mr Fleming, that we have our defence, one of impeachment. We must counter the indictment by accusing Gavin Cleland of his brother’s murder.’

Johnston intervened. ‘Even though there is no corroboration of the boy’s . . . sorry, the young man’s story?’

‘Ah, but there is, after a fashion. As well as attesting to the lack of animosity held towards Sir Gregor by the accused, Mr Fleming is also a witness to Gavin’s prowess with the pistol, as described by his father.’

‘There is still the matter of the two women and their evidence.’

‘Their false evidence,’ Irvine added. ‘What is their motive in saying what they did? What do we know of these women?’

‘Other than that one is a gentlewoman from Cheshire and that the other is her servant, we know nothing.’

‘A gentlewoman who is prepared to lie a man’s life away, under oath? I am a brand new advocate and I may be naive, but I doubt that. I would like to know more of her and of her companion.’

‘Where can they be lodging in Edinburgh?’ Paul Johnston wondered aloud. ‘The indictment tells us nothing, and yet if they are to be in the witness box on Tuesday, they must be close by, surely?’

‘They may be on the Cleland Estate,’ Mathew pointed out.

‘That is true. If Miss Smith was indeed a close friend of the deceased, she may well have remained there. After all, there will be a funeral.’

‘Indeed, but when?’

‘I can tell you that,’ the solicitor said. ‘I asked the Lord Advocate’s clerk if it would be possible to view the corpse. He said that would not be possible as it had been released for burial, on Saturday. Although he did not say where.’

‘There is a family plot at Carluke Kirk; he’ll join his ancestors there, I am sure. I think I will go along to see him off, and hopefully the ladies will be present. Sheriff Stirling will be, I am sure. If so, I may lay a charge of perjury against them.’

‘A good plan,’ Innes Irvine agreed, ‘but let us not get ahead of ourselves. Before any of that, young Mr McGill must give a formal precognition of his evidence, and I must visit my client. I must take his personal instruction, before lodging notice of our defence.’

‘We can do the first now, and the second this afternoon.’

‘Very good.’ The young advocate drank some of his strong coffee and shuddered slightly at the taste.

‘This case could be the making of you, could it not?’ Mathew suggested.

‘Indeed, sir, provided that it is the making of my client, rather than his ending.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

‘W
HAT NEWS DO YOU
have for me, Ewan? Was your mission a success?’

‘Doubly so, Mr Fleming,’ the coachman replied. ‘I found the Clelands’ house in Edinburgh, and I have discovered also that Gavin, Sir Gavin, as I assume he must be now, is residing there.’

‘Indeed? Well done, man. Is he alone, or did you see the two ladies also, Miss Smith and Miss Stout?’

‘No. By chance I saw him arrive and he was alone. However,’ he added with a smile, ‘I did discover whaur he had been. Ah kept an eye on the coach that had carried him home and saw it stop outside a tavern. So Ah went inside myself and engaged the driver in conversation. Ah complimented him on his rig . . . the surest way into a coachman’s good graces, sir . . . and asked if he worked for the gentleman Ah’d seen him drop off. He said no, that he was employed by a gentlemen’s club to see its members safely home after a night at the tables, or with the ladies. In the case of Sir Gavin Cleland, he said, it was both.’

Mathew smiled and turned to Innes Irvine; he, Johnston and young Matt were seated with them in the hotel salon. ‘Did you hear that, Mr Advocate? A mere three days after the death of his twin brother, and our new baronet is out carousing. Is that not something to lay before the court?’

‘Indeed it is,’ Irvine agreed. ‘It will help our defence of impeachment to demonstrate that he was not overcome by grief, as surely he would have been if he was innocent.’

‘Very good. Let us go, then, so that you can meet your client and let him see that he is in good hands with a good prospect of acquittal.’

He, Johnston and the advocate rose from the table; so did young Matt. ‘You cannot leave me behind, Mathew,’ he pleaded. ‘I must see my father.’

‘He may not wish you to visit him in Calton Jail, lad. He said as much to me yesterday.’

‘Is it no’ better for me to see his true situation,’ he asked, ‘than to imagine all sorts of horrors? I have heard stories of the Tolbooth, and what happened there.’

‘You should not have been listening to such stuff. The old Tolbooth prison was from a less enlightened time, and it was rightly torn down. The new jail is still a grim place, mind, but its inmates are treated with respect. But yes, I concede that you should see for yourself, so come with us. I am sure David will understand that your will is stronger than his, or mine.’

On their way up Waterloo Place, Matt’s eye was caught by the monument on the hilltop. ‘What is that?’ he asked.

‘That is Scotland’s national disgrace . . . or so they are calling it,’ Innes Irvine told him, ‘our way of remembering the defeat of Napoleon in the last great battle.’

‘I for one,’ Mathew remarked, ‘would prefer to forget that encounter, since it was almost the death of me. In fact it was, in a way.’

‘What do you mean?’ young Matt asked.

‘Never mind. It is of no significance to you.’

They came to the great prison door. No sooner had the hatch swung back in answer to Mathew’s knock than the wicket gate opened. ‘Mr Fleming, sir,’ the whiskery doorkeeper exclaimed, in great contrast to his first greeting. ‘Please come in. Warders will take you to meet your friend.’

They waited for ten minutes before their escorts arrived but when they did, they were taken straight to the room in which Mathew had seen David on the evening before. As they reached it, he saw Henry Stevens, waiting in the lamplit corridor.

‘A moment, sir,’ he said, drawing him away from the others.

‘You are ruffling feathers,’ the governor whispered. ‘This afternoon I received a message from the Lord Advocate’s agent.’

‘Who, or rather what, is he?’ Mathew asked.

‘A powerful man, third in rank in the Crown Office, after the Lord Advocate and the Solicitor General: he gave me an instruction that the prisoner McGill may only be visited by his legal advisers, and then just once per week. I am further instructed to be present at those meetings, and to report on their contact.’

‘Are you saying that I cannot go in, and that David’s son cannot see him?’

‘I am telling you what my instructions were, Mr Fleming, not that I propose to obey them. I am the governor of this prison; I answer to the city and not the Crown. However, Douglas has influence everywhere, and so I must be careful. Yes, you may enter and of course the young man may see his father. As for my presence . . . consider it spiritual rather than physical. If I am ever asked for an account of the consultation, I will say that the lawyers spoke mostly in Latin, in which I am not fluent, and that the prisoner spoke not at all. If you are ever asked . . .’

‘I will say that I waited outside in the corridor. Are your men to be trusted, though? I’d guess that my Lord Advocate must have spies everywhere.’

‘And you would be right, but I know who those spies are and they are well away from us at this moment.’ He frowned. ‘However, Mr Fleming, it would be prudent to assume that others are watching you, wherever you go in the city. You have come to their attention, no doubt of it, so this really should be your last visit here, before the trial. If that goes well, there will be no need for others.’

‘And if it does not?’

‘We will cross that bridge if we reach it. Go on in now, and good fortune be with you.’

David was waiting for them, in the company of a single guard, who left as they entered.

Before a word was said Matt rushed up to his father and embraced him, in a hug that might have crushed him, for he was the broader of the two and there was nothing between them in height.

Eventually David extricated himself and held his son at arm’s length. ‘Let me see your face,’ he said, inspecting the whip cut, which was still vivid.

‘And let me see yours,’ Matt retorted, seeing his father’s swollen eye. ‘Who did that to you? The Sheriff’s officers?’

‘No, they were crude but proper. A poor sap in my cell decided to pick on me. After Mathew arrived and the governor saw me, it went badly for him. Now I have a room to myself and I eat far better than the other prisoners. That makes me feel guilty, but if I refuse what I’m given it will not help either of us.’

‘And as an innocent man why should you suffer?’ Paul Johnston smiled and extended his hand. ‘I am your solicitor, Mr McGill, and this gentleman,’ he looked round towards Irvine, ‘is your advocate. He will plead your case in court.’

‘I have a case then?’

‘Oh yes,’ the advocate insisted, ‘and a strong one. You have been accused by three perjured witnesses, but we will fight back against them. It is my hope that when you have been discharged, the real killer of Sir Gregor Cleland will stand in the dock himself.’

‘That is a very fine hope, sir,’ McGill said, ‘but Gavin is one of Scotland’s ruling classes, and I have learned in here already that those people stand by each other, even when they are not even close to being in the right. Just get me out of here and back to my family; that will be enough.’

‘That we will achieve, I am sure,’ Johnston told him. ‘But to do the one we need to do the other. At the very least we must discredit Sir Gavin Cleland and his ladies as witnesses in the eyes of the jury and plant the seed of doubt in the minds of eight of them. That is all we will need; eight out of fifteen people who do not like the cut of Sir Gavin’s jib and think him capable of murdering his brother. In the High Court the jury has three choices of verdict, Guilty, Not Guilty and Not Proven. Two of those mean acquittal and a simple majority decides.’

‘This does not mean, of necessity,’ Irvine added, ‘that Cleland will be immediately indicted himself. That is of no concern to us; if it happens, good and well, although from what I have heard today, that is an outcome that not even Sir Walter Scott could have anticipated.’

‘Very well,’ McGill sighed. ‘To be honest, gentlemen, it’s my own neck that concerns me, not his. How do we go about this?’

‘On Friday,’ the advocate replied, ‘I will lodge a special defence of impeachment with the Crown Office. We must do that in advance for the court to accept it. We will name our witnesses as Matthew McGill, who will give the true version of events, and Mr Mathew Fleming, the celebrated Iron Baron and Deputy Lord Lieutenant of Lanarkshire, as a witness both to the panel’s . . . that is you, sir . . . good character, and to the expertise of Sir Gavin Cleland with a pistol, a man who would not be as easily disarmed as he says, and who would be too good a shot to miss a target so readily presented to him, as was your back. Then there are the lady witnesses; there are questions about them, and I will expose them in the witness box.’

‘Forgive me, sir,’ David murmured, ‘but there is still down on your cheeks. Are you confident in this?’

‘Never more so; let me present this case and I will prevail. As for my youth, there is nothing to forgive, for it is self-evident. Do I have your instruction to proceed?’

The accused man frowned. ‘There is only one aspect of this that worries me and holds me back from giving you my consent; that is the part my lad will play. He will be exposed to cross-examination, will he not?’

‘Yes, he will.’

‘What worry is that, Father?’ young Matt cried out. ‘I will be telling the truth.’

‘Nevertheless, we are dealing with dangerous men here, son, and you are still a boy.’

‘That may be,’ the husky youth retorted, ‘but if you had let me last Sunday, I could have taken Sir Gregor to the ground as easily as you did, and defended myself as well.’

Mathew laughed. ‘I am sure you could, but that is not a boast you will make in the witness box, cheil.’ He looked at his friend. ‘David, I understand your concern, but you must let us do this, for we have no other weapons in our armoury.’

‘Then I will, but on one condition: at the first sign of peril to my boy, you will withdraw the impeachment, and rely on all that is left. Do I have your word on that, friend?’

‘Even if it means sentencing you to death?’

‘Even so.’

‘Then you have that promise. God be with us both.’