Lost - Michael Robotham [140]
Lord Connelly keeps everyone waiting. He enters the courtroom at ten minutes past ten and the room rises. Then he carefully places his walnut palm gavel to his right and his glass of water to his left.
Howard emerges from below. He is clutching a Bible with red ribbons marking the pages. His eyes look bruised but defiant. Eddie Barrett shakes his hand and Howard gives him a weary smile.
Fiona Hanley, QC, is already on her feet. “Perhaps I can expedite these proceedings a little, Your Honor. Due to information that has come to light over the weekend, the Crown does not oppose the defense application and are content for this case to be retried at the court’s earliest convenience.”
There is an audible gasp. Blood surges in the air and eyes shift to Howard. I don’t think he understands. Even Eddie Barrett looks amazed.
“My chambers,” Lord Connelly says. He exits stage right like a black-caped crusader.
Four of us wait in the outer office. Eddie Barrett and the Rook are whispering in one corner. The Rook is actually smiling, an expression that doesn’t come naturally to him. Meanwhile, Fiona Hanley avoids my gaze, wrapping her robe around herself.
Lord Connelly’s assistant, a large-breasted black woman, has a brilliant smile reserved only for His Honor. She has been with him fifteen years and we’ve all heard the rumors.
“He’ll see you now,” she says, pointing to the door.
Eddie takes a step back and lets Miss Hanley go first, bowing slightly and showing his monklike dome.
There are only three chairs in front of the Judge’s desk. I stand with my back to the bookshelves that line the walls. Lord Connelly has removed his wig. His own hair is similarly white, trimmed neatly above his ears. His voice takes on a kind of exalted public-school inflection.
“I spent four days writing up this judgment and now you spring this.” His gaze settles on Fiona.
“I apologize, Your Honor, I only learned of this late yesterday.”
“And whose bright idea was it?”
“Further information has come to light—”
“Which casts doubt on Mr. Wavell’s guilt?”
She hesitates. “It creates complications.”
“I hope you’re not telling me one thing and meaning something else.”
Eddie is beside himself with glee. The Judge fixes him with a glare. “And you can keep your thoughts to yourself, Mr. Barrett. I have had a bellyful of you in my courtrooms and I won’t put up with it in here.”
Eddie’s smile is erased.
Getting to his feet, Lord Connelly walks behind his chair and braces his hand on the backrest. His eyes settle on me. “I understand that I shouldn’t refer to your rank anymore, DI Ruiz, but perhaps you can enlighten me on what is happening here.”
“The police have a new witness.”
“A witness or a suspect?”
“Both.”
“In your evidence several days ago you expressed an opinion that Michaela Carlyle might be alive. Is that still the case?”
“No, Your Honor.”
Sadness flickers in his eyes. “And this new witness has led you to question what happened?”
“She has confessed to the kidnapping of Michaela Carlyle and sending a subsequent ransom demand. She will testify that Mickey was released unharmed after three days.”
“And then what?”
“We believe she made it as far as Dolphin Mansions.”
The Judge can see where I’m going now. He grinds his teeth as though trying to wear them down. “This is ridiculous!”
Eddie interrupts. “We will be applying for bail, Your Honor.”
“You keep your mouth shut.”
I raise my voice above both of them. “Howard Wavell is a child killer. He should stay in prison.”
“Bullshit,” mutters Eddie. “He’s ugly and he’s weird but last time I looked that still wasn’t a crime. We can both be grateful for that.”
“You can both be quiet,” says Lord Connelly, wanting to tear strips off someone. “Next person to utter a sound gets locked up for contempt.”
He addresses me. “DI Ruiz, I hope you’re going to explain to that poor girl’s family what’s happening.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
He turns to the others. “I am going to grant the defense leave to appeal. I am also going to make sure they have plenty of opportunity to examine this new evidence. I want