Nothing Ventured

‘As recorded on the missing page of Mr Rainsford’s statement, the police arrived at RGK’s offices only a few moments after he did.’

‘That’s what a guilty man would say if he wanted to put the blame on someone else,’ said Clarkson. ‘So I didn’t bother to follow it up, not least because chasing anonymous calls is a thankless task, and usually ends up being a complete waste of time.’

‘So you never discovered who the mystery man was?’

‘Yes, I did, sir,’ said Clarkson.

Sir Julian was once again taken by surprise. He took a step into the unknown.

‘Please tell the court in your own words, detective sergeant, how you found out who this mystery man was.’

‘A couple of days after Rainsford had been charged, a black cab driver turned up at the station and told us he’d seen the story on the evening news. He said he’d picked up Rainsford from Euston on the afternoon of the murder, and dropped him outside an office block on Marylebone High Street. He’d only just turned on his For Hire sign when a man came rushing out of the building and asked to be taken to the Admiral Nelson pub in West Ham, but after he’d travelled about a hundred yards the man told the driver to stop. He got out, and ran into a nearby phone box. He returned a few minutes later when the cabbie continued on his journey to West Ham.’

‘Did he give you a description of the man?’

‘May I refer to the notes I made at the time?’ asked Clarkson, turning to the judges.

Lord Justice Arnott nodded and Clarkson opened a small black pocketbook and turned several pages before he continued. ‘The cabbie said he was around five eight, dark hair, and could have done with losing a couple of stone. He also said that he’d put money on him being Greek or Turkish.’

‘What made him think that?’ asked Sir Julian.

‘The cabbie did his national service in Cyprus at the time of the uprising, and was fairly confident he recognized the accent.’

‘Did you report this conversation to DI Stern?’

‘I did, and he wasn’t best pleased. But he said he’d visit the Admiral Nelson and check the story out.’

‘And did he discover who the mystery man was?’

‘Yes, he did. But he told me that the man had a cast-iron alibi. He’d been in the Admiral Nelson at the time of the murder, which the landlord confirmed, as did several other customers who’d also been in the pub at that time. In any case, Stern reminded me, we had a signed confession, so what more did I want?’

‘So you didn’t follow up that line of inquiry?’

‘No, I didn’t. After all, DI Stern was the senior officer on the case, and I was just a rookie constable not long out of probation, so there wasn’t a lot I could do.’

‘And there’s no paperwork to prove that DI Stern visited the Admiral Nelson pub, or interviewed the so-called mystery man.’

‘DI Stern didn’t care much for paperwork. Said he believed in nailing criminals not filing them.’

‘I understand you weren’t called to give evidence at Mr Rainsford’s trial?’

‘No, sir, I was not. And when Rainsford was convicted, I assumed DI Stern must have been right all along. That was until I read about Rainsford’s appeal in the Daily Mail, and began to wish I’d interviewed Mr Fortounis at the time, and not left—’

‘Vasilis Fortounis?’ said Arthur, leaping up from his chair in the dock.

‘Yes, I’m pretty sure that was his name,’ said Clarkson.

‘His daughter was Gary Kirkland’s secretary,’ shouted Arthur.

‘Sir Julian, restrain your client before I do,’ said Lord Justice Arnott firmly.

Arthur sat back down, but began waving frantically in Sir Julian’s direction.

‘I think this might be an appropriate time for a recess, Sir Julian, as it is clear that your client wishes to consult you. Shall we reconvene in an hour?’

THE CROWN V. FAULKNER

‘Members of the jury,’ said Mr Justice Nourse, ‘you have heard the arguments presented by both learned counsel, and it is now my responsibility to sum up this case dispassionately and without prejudice. It will be up to you, and you alone, to decide if Mr Faulkner is guilty or not guilty on the three counts brought against him on behalf of the Crown.