shape.”
There was a roar of laughter.
Counsel’s eyes narrowed, and a hand went up to his mouth.
When order had been restored—
“Mrs Pleydell might have been injured?”
“She might,” said Berry, “have been killed.”
“Exactly. Yet you solemnly declare that that fact did not influence your conduct?”
“I do,” said Berry. “You see, I didn’t know it.”
“What d’you mean – ‘didn’t know it’?”
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
“It was not,” he said, “within my knowledge. That being so, for it to affect my outlook was quite impossible.”
“You didn’t know that Mrs Pleydell had been involved?”
“That is the impression,” said Berry, “which I am endeavouring to convey.”
“Don’t you know your own carriage, when you see it?”
“When I see it – yes. But not when it’s round two corners and a quarter of a mile away.”
Everyone was waiting for this, and the burst of laughter which followed shook the room. Counsel turned and rent his solicitor. Though no one could hear his voice, his manner was eloquent. Then he straightened his back and faced his prey.
“Let me get this clear. When did you appear upon the scene?’
“About fifteen seconds before the constable.”
“Did you see the chauffeur dragged from the car?”
“No. The one had been taken, and the other left.”
“I suppose you realize that no accident would have happened, if he had remained at the wheel?”
“I realize nothing of the kind.”
“What d’you mean, sir?”
“This. When he was at the wheel, the chauffeur put in peril four valuable lives. Left to itself, the car was less exacting.”
“Are you seriously suggesting that, if the chauffeur had not been removed, the barrow would have been upset and the lamp-post destroyed?”
“No. But I am suggesting that, had he not been removed he might well be standing here or elsewhere on a charge of manslaughter.”
“A curious point of view – for a Magistrate. Because a chauffeur misunderstands a request, he is to be branded as a potential murderer.”
“I do not believe that he misunderstood the request.”
“He has sworn so.”
“I know. I don’t believe him.”
“Pray, why not?”
Berry leaned forward.
“Because he has not misunderstood one single one of the questions asked him today.”
That was a kidney punch, and the rustle that ran round the Court showed that everyone present was well aware of its worth.
Counsel’s face was working.
“Try to remember,” he rasped, “that you are not on the Bench.”
“May I respectfully offer the same advice?”
In a pregnant silence, the two men regarded each other. Then Counsel returned to his brief.
“When you arrived upon the scene, where was the chauffeur?”
“In the trough,” said Berry.
“And Mr Slober?”
“Standing beside the car.”
“And the hawker?”
“Was importuning Mr Slober, who seemed preoccupied.”
“Preoccupied?”
“Yes. He was, er, soliloquizing upon what had occurred.”
“Soliloquizing?”
“Yes, in blank prose.”
When the gust of laughter had passed—
“And the hawker had hold of his arm?”
“No. The hawker never touched him from first to last.”
Counsel wagged a menacing finger.
“I put it to you that he did.”
“You can put it,” said Berry, “where you like, but—”
In the roar of delight at this answer, the rest of the sentence was lost.
But Counsel stuck to his guns.
“The defendant will swear, Mr Pleydell, that the hawker took hold of his arm.”
“That will confirm the opinion I formed at the time.”
“What opinion was that?”
“That the defendant was beside himself. Didn’t know what he was doing or what was being done. If he didn’t know then, he can’t remember now.”
“His evidence should be ruled out?”
“That is a matter for the Court.”
“Of course. But you would advise them to disregard it?”
“I should not presume to advise them on any point.”
“But you’re a
Learning to Kill: Stories