Chapter 22 Twelfth day, Saturday

Something must have gone wrong.At a quarter to nine, Mr. Vansittart arrived at the prison.He was courteous to the guards in the visiting reception room, but insisted that his visit was at nine, not ten, and that he was a busy man.Lawyer Slade would no doubt come later.After consulting his superiors, the prison guards asked a colleague to lead the lawyer to an interview room.At 9:05, the two prisoners were brought in.They glared at the lawyer, but Vansittart didn't panic. "I'm sorry Mr. Slade will be a little late," he said, "but he will be without a doubt. By the way, my name is James Vansittart and I am your attorney. Sit down." .”

The accompanying guards left the room.The two sat down at the table opposite Vansittart.He took out the prosecution documents after sitting down by himself.Then he pushed a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches across the table, and they both clicked greedily.Cornish pocketed the rest of his cigarettes.Vansittart smiled kindly at them. "You two young men are in a bit of trouble here." He flipped through the files as the two of them watched him through the smoke. "Mr. Cornish..." He looked up at the straight-haired Harry Cornish. "One of our problems, was the purse. Apparently it was taken by a dog walker last Sunday morning. Found it, lying in a deserted field, stuck in the grass, just behind the fence on the side of the Mandela road. It belonged to the deceased without a doubt, and it had his fingerprints on it. Unfortunately, yours too .”

"I don't know," Cornish said. "No, well, people's memories fail when they're busy. But there must be an innocent explanation. Now, I presume, you're going to tell me that on Wednesday morning, the day after the attack, you Walking down Mandela Road, going to a cafe for lunch, when you see a purse lying in the gutter?" Cornish may be simple-minded, but not foolish.Anyway, his eyes lit up. "Yes," he agreed, "that's what it is." "If that's what you're trying to tell me, then of course I'll believe it. And there's no doubt that your statement is that, like everyone else, you're curious about a purse in a gutter, so you bend over Picked it up, and left your fingerprints on the wallet."

"Yeah," said Cornish, "that's what I did." "But unfortunately, the wallet is empty, right? There's nothing in it. So without thinking, you throw the wallet over the fence like a poker card, and it falls into the wasteland behind the fence , fell into the grass, and was later found by a dog. Is that the case?" "Yes," said Cornish, a little excited.Smart old guy.Vansittart took a few sheets of paper from his briefcase and scribbled a deposition. "Here, I have made a transcript of this explanation. Please read it over and over, and if you agree that what is written here is what actually happened, then this is a pretty good defense. Then you can sign it. "

Cornish was not a fast reader, but he still scribbled his name. "Now, our second question is your nose, Mr. Price." The cast has been removed but the nose is still swollen and sore. "The medical records show that you went to the hospital on St. Anne's Road about five o'clock in the afternoon on the day that unfortunate man was attacked on Paradise Road. The prosecution will make a big fuss about it." "Well, but the nose hurt," Price said. "Are you two going out for a beer?" They nodded. "Did you go out that Monday night?"

They looked confused.Then Cornish nodded. "To the King's Brasserie in Farrow Street." "You were drinking there and other people saw it, including the bartender?" They nodded again. "Was it Monday night, the night before the attack?" nod. "Well, you can tell me that Mr. Price drank a few more drinks than usual. So, on your way home, he was going to pee in the gutter, but he tripped over an uneven curb. , crashed face-down into a car parked nearby, and broke his nose as he fell?" Cornish elbowed Price. "You should remember, Mark. That's what happened."

"So, your nose is broken, and you're bleeding all the way. So, you take off your T-shirt and cover your face until you get home, and that's when the bleeding stops. And then, because you're so drunk, you fall asleep until Waking up at noon on Tuesday?" Cornish smiled. "That's what it is. Isn't that right, Mark?" "But there was a five-hour gap between that time and going to the hospital. No doubt you were going to tell me that you didn't want to make a fuss, didn't know that your nose might be broken, and because it kept hurting, it was your companion I persuaded you to go for a diagnosis and treatment. So, around five o'clock, you went to that hospital for examination and treatment."

Price nodded eagerly. "But that was after lunch, of course. Perhaps you had a quick meal in a small shop somewhere and sat in a restaurant from one o'clock to half past two? There was a copy of The Sun on the table, and so Looked through the news in the newspaper, and so on? Can't remember the name of the snack bar, can you?" They all shook their heads and said they couldn't remember. "It doesn't matter. There are many such convenient snack bars there. But you must have never been near Qinglinyuan all day, have you?" "No," Cornish said, "we just went to the snack bar and had some eggs and chips until about half past two."

"Not where you usually have lunch, is it?" "No. Just wandered around that street for a while. Can't remember the name." "Well, that seems convincing. The jury should be convinced. As long as you stick to it. Don't change it. Keep it short and to the point. Understand?" They nodded.Vansittart wrote a second affidavit based on what Price said about the nose.Price could not read much, but he signed his name.The lawyer packed both depositions into a bulging file.Lou Slade walked in suspiciously.Vansittart stood up. "Dear Mr. Slade. I'm very sorry, I got the time wrong. I thought you said nine o'clock. But it doesn't matter. Our client and I have just concluded an interview."

He turned to Price and Cornish with a friendly smile. "We'll see you in court on Tuesday, but we won't be talking then. Never say anything about anyone who is in the same cell. Some of them are police contacts." He gave a disgruntled Attorney Slade a ride home in his Bentley.Slade read the two new depositions on the way. "Okay," he said, "much better. Two very strong arguments. I'm a little surprised they didn't tell me that. That makes Patel..." "Oh, yes, Mr. Virgie Patel. An honest man, an honest man. Probably honest enough to admit that he might, just might, have made a mistake."

Mr. Slade had his misgivings, but then he remembered that Mr. Vansittart had a reputation second only to George Carmen's when it came to cross-examination.His prospects looked brighter.And the barrister is set to appear at Highbury Kearney Court on Tuesday, a surprise move that should put some people on edge.Slade smiled.