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Authors: Brian Freemantle

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BOOK: The Namedropper
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‘I am at your honour's discretion and disposal,' capitulated Bartle, with no alternative.

‘Which is that I shall allow Mr Reid's application, as I now invite Mr Reid's initial examination.'

Beside him Jordan saw that Beckwith had created a virtual army of exclamation marks upon his legal pad. Aware of Jordan's attention, his lawyer scribbled, ‘Absolutely Brilliant!!!' and immediately blacked out the words to make them unreadable. Jordan saw that Alyce was sitting with her head sunk so low upon her chest that she could have been asleep.

‘Mr Appleton,' began Reid, still with no catch in his voice. ‘You are giving evidence to this court under oath?'

Appleton looked for guidance to his lawyer, who did not respond. The man said, ‘Yes.'

‘Which requires you to tell the truth?'

There was still no protest from Bartle. Appleton again said, ‘Yes.'

‘Do you intend telling the truth, Mr Appleton?'

Bartle at last rose in protest. ‘Your honour! Isn't this risking your court being brought into disrepute?'

‘A question I am still considering from the hearing that preceded this one,' replied Pullinger, at once. ‘I will allow it but would recommend restraint, Mr Reid.'

‘Are you telling the truth, Mr Appleton?' repeated Reid.

‘Yes.'

‘You admit two affairs, one with Sharon Borowski, the other with the defendant, Leanne Jefferies?' demanded Reid.

‘Yes.'

‘Which was the first, that involving Ms Borowski or Ms Jefferies?'

‘Ms Borowski,' replied Appleton.

Appleton was trying to protect himself with clipped, one-word answers whenever possible, Jordan recognized.

‘When did the affair with Ms Borowski begin?'

‘I'm not sure of a precise date,' said Appleton.

‘You can surely remember the month!'

‘I think it was March.'

‘March last year?'

‘Yes.'

‘Which part of March, the beginning or the end?'

‘I said I'm not sure. More towards the end than the beginning.'

Reid again made the pretence of consulting his disordered papers. ‘Ms Jefferies is a commodity trader, like yourself?'

Appleton was shifting uncomfortably on the stand, gripping and ungripping its bordering rail as if needing physical support. ‘Yes.'

‘What was Ms Borowski's occupation?'

‘I don't believe she had an occupation.'

‘You don't
believe
she had an occupation? You had an affair with her! Surely you knew whether she had a job or not?'

‘It was a very brief affair.'

‘How brief?'

‘A matter of weeks.'

‘How many weeks?'

‘Four. Five.'

‘How did you meet?'

‘At a party, in Manhattan.'

‘I asked you how?'

‘Your honour!' interjected Bartle, once more. ‘What possible relevance has this to do with the current case?'

‘Mr Reid?' invited Pullinger.

‘If I am allowed to continue, with the expectation of receiving the toxicology and blood analysis findings upon the deceased Ms Borowski, I hope to show that it is of crucial importance to the outcome of this matter, particularly the transmission of disease,' insisted Reid.

‘Then it will continue,' decided Pullinger.

‘I asked you how you met Ms Borowski,' repeated Reid.

‘I told you, at a party.'

‘That was
where
you met her.
How?

‘I was introduced to her, by a mutual friend.'

‘Towards the end of March, last year?'

‘Yes,' replied Appleton, too quickly.

‘Was that when your affair began, that night?'

Appleton re-gripped the edge of the witness stand. ‘It might have been.'

‘
Might
have been! Was it or wasn't it, Mr Appleton?'

‘I think it was.'

‘You think it was,' echoed Reid. ‘You did know Ms Borowski before you were formally introduced to her at the end of March last year, didn't you?'

‘I didn't know her,' insisted Appleton.

‘But you'd seen her before? Been to parties where she was?'

‘I may have done.'

‘May have done,' echoed Reid again, going unerringly into his tumbled papers to bring out a neatly prepared, individually separated batch of papers, beckoning the usher to give him the majority to distribute, but personally delivering their packages to Beckwith, Bartle and Wolfson. ‘I would ask that these be placed before the jury and yourself, your honour.'

‘These are copies of newspaper cuttings!' objected Bartle. ‘These can't be admissible!'

‘What's the purpose of this introduction, Mr Reid?' demanded the judge, stopping the usher before he reached the jury box.

‘They feature photographs of Ms Borowski, in the diaries and social columns of certain New York newspapers, some with caption references to her which might give some indication of the occupation of which Mr Appleton appears unsure,' said Reid.

‘I object to their introduction,' insisted Bartle. ‘This court was given no indication or warning of their being presented.'

‘We've already touched upon your dismissal of Mr Reid's enquiries concerning this lady,' reminded Pullinger. ‘I will not recess the court but read them here at the bench. Attorneys will read them, too, but not yet the clients they represent or the jury.'

There were shuffles throughout the court, mostly from the jury. Alyce remained head bent. Behind her, Dr Harding was leaning solicitously forward.

The three lawyers were still reading when Pullinger finished. He said, ‘Mr Beckwith?'

‘I have no objection to their introduction,' replied Jordan's attorney.

‘Mr Wolfson?'

‘I have no objection,' said the man.

‘I will allow them, Mr Bartle, but warn you, Mr Reid, to be extremely careful in whatever it is you have to say,' ruled the judge. ‘The usher will deliver the copies to the jury and to the plantiff.'

‘From the photographs Ms Borowski was obviously an extremely attractive girl, Mr Appleton?'

‘Yes,' agreed Appleton. The copies fluttered slightly from the tremor in the man's hand.

‘In the copy number one, in the
New York Daily News
, Ms Borowski's age is given as twenty-three. Was that how old she was?'

‘I did not know her age.'

‘Or her occupation,' reminded Reid. ‘If she was twenty-three that would make her younger than you by almost twenty years?'

‘Your honour!' protested Bartle.

‘Quite so,' agreed the judge. ‘Careful, Mr Reid.'

‘My apologies, your honour,' said Reid, with no obvious apology in his voice.

‘The
Daily News
suggests an occupation for Ms Borowski, does it not? On the marked line it describes her as “a party girl”, doesn't it?'

‘Yes.'

‘And there is something similar in the
New York Observer
, isn't there? On the marked line of the cutting, numbered two, she is described as “a regular party person”, isn't she?'

‘Yes.'

‘What do you take “party girl” and “regular party person” to mean, Mr Appleton?'

‘I don't know. I don't think it means anything.'

‘That is you in the background of the cutting from the
New York Observer
, isn't it, Mr Appleton?'

‘Yes.'

‘The date of that cutting is February eighth last year, isn't it?'

‘Yes.'

‘So you were already aware of Ms Borowski before you formally met in March?'

‘Yes.'

‘And that affair with party girl Sharon Borowski began the first time you met her in late March, presumably at yet another party?'

‘Yes.'

‘Would you agree with me that “an affair” is a consensual relationship – a sexual attraction – between two people?'

‘I suppose so.'

‘You suppose so,' mocked Reid. ‘You had sex with Ms Borowski on the first night of your meeting, that's right, isn't it?'

‘I've already told you that I did,' said Appleton, his temper flaring for the first time.

‘Did you envisage a long-term relationship?'

‘I do not intend letting this continue much longer, Mr Reid,' warned the judge.

‘I …' started Appleton, but stopped. Then he said, ‘I don't know.'

‘But you do know – remember – that you continued to sleep with Ms Borowski – and have sex with her – over the course of four or five weeks?'

‘Yes.'

‘Did you pay to sleep with Sharon Borowsk, the regular party girl?'

Bartle rose to protest yet again but before he could Appleton said, loudly, ‘No, I did not pay her! She was not a hooker!'

As Bartle sat, Pullinger said, ‘Have we laboured this point sufficiently, Mr Reid?'

‘I have just one further question on this particular matter, your honour. Tell the court, sworn under oath as you are to tell the truth, Mr Appleton, did you give Sharon Borowski any gifts? Jewellery, for instance? A bangle, perhaps?'

‘I think …' stumbled Appleton. ‘I gave her a bracelet, that's all.'

‘Let me move on to another part of your evidence-in-chief,' said Reid. ‘You were working hard to establish your new business – despite apparently having time to party – your wife was living in the country, which she preferred but you were trying for a baby, were you not?'

‘Yes.'

‘But without success?'

‘Yes.'

‘Were you saddened, disappointed, that your wife did not conceive?'

‘Yes.'

‘Your wife suggested adoption, did she not?'

‘Yes.'

‘But you argued against that. Why?'

‘I wanted our child to be biologically ours. To carry the bloodline of our two families. It was important.'

‘Your wife also underwent medical examinations and tests to discover if there were some medical or physical reason why she was incapable of bearing children, did she not?'

Appleton had precariously lodged the newspaper cuttings on the corner of the witness stand and in reaching out yet again to grip its edge he knocked them off. Some fell inside, others outside, of the box. ‘I'm sorry,' he said, stooping to recover those inside as the usher collected those beyond. Having retrieved what he could Appleton stood uncertainly with them in his hand until the usher reached out to take them.

‘Mr Appleton?' urged Reid.

‘Yes,' agreed Appleton, rigidly maintaining his minimal script.

‘But you refused to undergo any medical examination, didn't you?'

‘Yes.'

‘Why?' demanded Reid, matchingly short.

‘There is no biological or physical impediment in my becoming a father!' insisted Appleton.

Reid strained the maximum silence from the remark before saying, ‘Without undergoing any medical examination you know there is no biological or physical impediment to you becoming a father?'

Bartle was sitting with his head bowed, although not as deeply as Alyce and Appleton stood flushed on the witness stand, washed away by a tide he couldn't fight against. Eventually he said, ‘That is what I believe.'

‘Believe because of some internal conviction?' pounced Reid. ‘Something of which this court is unaware? Or because you have already been the father of a child?'

‘Your honour!' exploded Bartle, coming finally to his feet.

Before Pullinger could respond, Reid said, ‘I am finished for the moment, your honour.'

‘What in the name of fuck was that?' demanded Jordan, as they settled in Reid's office. There were glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels on the desk. Once more Alyce had insisted she couldn't withstand a review.

‘I'll tell you what that was,' offered Beckwith. ‘You remember me telling you that courts were theatres, in which people performed? You've just witnessed a performance deserving more Oscars than there are Academy Award categories. You were brilliant, Bob. Absolutely fucking brilliant.'

And I never believed the man capable of opposing a speeding ticket, thought Jordan, still needing time to properly assimilate it all. ‘We never discussed any of this! I never knew you had so much to throw at him!'

‘I don't remember our agreeing to talk about – to discuss – everything,' said the resistant Reid, pointedly.

Looking between the two of them Beckwith sniggered and said, ‘You play a lot of poker, Harvey, as a professional gambler?'

‘Some,' allowed Jordan, further confused.

‘Then you know about bluff.'

Jordan looked from one lawyer to the other. ‘Will someone – either of you – tell me what the hell you're talking about?'

‘All Bob had were the newspaper cuttings,' explained Beckwith. ‘We don't expect there to be any surviving toxicology evidence from Sharon Borowski. Which was why Bob delayed until the last minute asking the coroner for it, because we didn't want to be told there isn't any. It gives Bob the chance to recall Appleton, with whatever might arise during the hearing. Appleton and Bartle will be shitting rocks that we know more – have something – which was what I meant by Bob's Academy Award performance.'

‘What about Appleton already having fathered a child?' persisted Jordan.

‘Who knows whether he has or he hasn't,' shrugged Reid. ‘He's admitted to not undergoing a fertility test. What more did I need?'

‘But you knew about a bracelet?' persisted Jordan.

‘No I didn't,' denied Reid. ‘I just tossed it into the pond to see if I could make ripples. And I did.'

‘You mean there wasn't any evidence for any of the inferences and innuendoes you spread around in there today?' demanded Jordan.

‘Every question was justified from the evidence available before the court,' insisted Reid. ‘We can't be caught out, like the other side was caught out with chlamydia. And the opposition don't know where we're coming from next.'

BOOK: The Namedropper
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