The Edge of the Fall (50 page)

‘Nothing to talk about,' said Emmeline. ‘You were right in everything you said before.' She squeezed her sister's hand. ‘No need to worry! Mr Bird is excellent.'

They hadn't thought to bring lunch. One of the reporters was eating a ham sandwich and Celia suddenly felt dreadfully hungry.
Well, you will have to wait!
she told herself. ‘We'll bring food tomorrow, Emmy.'

‘We can't eat it
here
. Not with all these people around.'

‘Oh, don't be so silly. You're feeding a baby. You should eat. I'll ask that man if you can have a sandwich.'

‘You'll do no such thing!' Emmeline slapped down her hand. ‘If you do, it will be a story in the papers by tomorrow. The minute we get out of here, we'll eat.'

‘We have to at least bring something to drink tomorrow.'

Emmeline inclined her head. ‘That we can do. Now, I'm going to the bathroom. You'll have to wait.'

Half an hour later, they filed back into the court room. It felt even stuffier than before. Celia was wedged in next to a fat man, who didn't look much like a court official to her. She stared straight ahead.

It was Arthur's turn to take the stand. Emmeline clutched her hand as Celia looked forward. He was dressed in his pale suit, hands folded. Mr Cedric stepped forward first, asked Arthur his name and home address. Arthur spoke in a low voice, looking outward. The entire court breathed in, gazing at him.

Mr Cedric began asking him about Louisa.

‘I loved her,' he said. ‘I loved her from the first moment I saw her. Well, no, not the first moment, because that was probably when she was three. But when she came to live at our home after the death of her mother in 1919. Then I fell in love. I didn't realise it until later, but that was the moment.'

‘So in love that you had to kidnap her.'

‘She wanted to go to London.'

‘But you forced her.'

‘No. It was her idea.'

On and on they talked, Arthur saying over and over that he loved her, that he longed to marry her, that her death had plunged him into despair.

‘But if you were so in love with her, why did you keep your wedding secret? Surely your family would have desired to come.'

He nodded. ‘They would. But we thought we would have a celebration later. Louisa wanted it to be quiet.'

‘Was it not that the terms of her family's will demanded that she did not marry under the age of twenty-one? And your father was in charge of ensuring that didn't happen.'

Arthur nodded.

‘And yet she then took out all the money that she could from her accounts? It is my understanding that she was to have an allowance from her interest. And yet somehow she managed to access the actual capital – and removed a full quarter of it. How did she do this?'

He shook his head. ‘I didn't know she did that. I didn't know she could get at her money.'

Mr Cedric raised an eyebrow. And how did you travel, stay in fine hotels, holiday in Margate?'

‘My money. My parents had given me money. We lived off that.'

‘And yet, Mrs de Witt's accounts are much depleted.'

‘Not by me. She must have taken it out. I don't know why. She liked nice dresses and jewellery. I told her I would buy them for her, but sometimes she had clothes I didn't recognise. It could have been that, I suppose.'

Celia gripped Emmeline's hand. ‘That man who was following Louisa,' she whispered. ‘What if he was blackmailing her?'

Emmeline nodded.

Mr Cedric paced around the box. ‘What a mystery. Mrs de Witt and her missing money. So, sir. You fell in love with this lady. Married her in secret. Then she died. And now, by the terms
of her will, I believe, you would have been entitled to her share of the Deerhurst estate on the date when she would have reached the age of twenty-one – if it were not for these circumstances.' He turned to the jury. ‘An odd provision, I think you will agree, but that is the provision. Possibly the Deerhursts thought it the way to dissuade fortune hunters. It seems to me that it would be the best way to encourage them!'

He got the laugh. Men in the gallery snorted.

Arthur lifted his head. ‘I loved Louisa. And I didn't just lose her when she died.'

‘What do you mean, sir?' probed Mr Cedric.

‘A week before her death, she told me she was carrying our child.'

There was a terrible intake of breath from the gallery. Celia gripped Emmeline's hand. Mr Cedric looked as surprised as she felt. He looked around, blankly. ‘Carrying a child?'

‘She told me she was. I was so pleased. She was so happy. But maybe she made a mistake. The doctors found – nothing.' He broke into tears. He put his hands on the witness box. A clerk passed him a handkerchief. The judge looked at Mr Bird.

‘Questions, Mr Bird?'

Both barristers were deep in conversation with their clerks. The taller man was writing notes. Celia looked at Arthur, seated behind the box, head in his hands.
Why hadn't he told them?

She couldn't stop herself. ‘It must have been so early that she muddled the dates,' she whispered into Emmeline's ear.

‘Or she lied.'

Celia stared at Emmeline, was about to answer.

‘Look forward, sister. We'll talk later.'

Mr Bird stepped up, asked Arthur about Louisa. He talked about love and the idealism of the young.

‘There may be many of us here who were so overwhelmed by love that they – with the exception of the Honourable Gentleman, of course – have thought of keeping such love affairs secret from their family and friends. A quite understandable impulse,
especially when one is young. One thinks that love is so special that one wants to keep it secret. Quite understandable.'

He talked on. Everyone, Celia thought – the people in the gallery, the jury, even Mr Cedric – was only seeing Arthur weeping over the child that wasn't there.

The days rolled on. The judge called forth more witnesses. An ice-cream seller from near the cliffs said the pair had looked contented, a woman who sold roses said she'd seen Louisa lean her head on his shoulder. A guest at the hotel said the pair had seemed very happy and a woman who'd been staying at the hotel with her children said she'd struck up a conversation with Louisa in the grounds and Louisa had said that she and her husband were looking forward to having children.

Then, on the fourth day, when it was four and Celia could see even the reporters fighting not to yawn, the judge called for a Mr Werth. Celia watched as a small man shuffled to the witness box. He gave his name to Mr Cedric and answered a few inconsequential questions.

Mr Cedric walked calmly towards the box. ‘So, Mr Werth. You were out walking by the cliffs on the afternoon of 14 August 1920.' That was
him
! Celia realised. He was the new evidence. The small man in a too large suit was the proof that Arthur had pushed Louisa.

‘Yes, sir.' He looked up at the roof of the Old Bailey, somewhat cowed by its grandeur, perhaps. His accent was London. He was a clerk in a railway office, Mr Bird had said, an intelligent man. This wasn't the man she'd imagined, tall and angry, a furious teacher sort. Who would always be certain, never discouraged. She hadn't thought he would look like this, a slight man whose suit fell off his frame. She watched his eyes swivel around the court, taking in the crowds. He looked at Arthur, then dropped his head.

‘Mr Werth, I presume that there were other couples also walking. Taking the air.'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did you notice anyone in particular?'

‘Yes, sir. That gentleman over there, sir.' He gestured his head towards Arthur, looked away.
You could at least look at him in the eye
, Celia thought. If you're going to send him down, if
you're
the one who's going to hang him. She knew she was being unfair, that the man was only meaning to tell the truth. Still, he had mistaken what he had seen happen and now they were all in front of the court.

‘The one in the defendant box? Mr de Witt?'

‘That's him.'

‘Are you quite sure, Mr Werth? You are entirely sure that the gentleman was him?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘And why did you notice him, Mr Werth?'

‘My wife and I noticed him in the first place because he was rather handsome. He seemed a better type of man than I'd normally seen around there. And his wife was such a good-looking woman. She seemed fond too, leaning on his arm a lot, looking into his face.'

‘Love's young dream?'

‘Not exactly. Her, maybe. She was very fond, as I say. Him not so much. My wife thought he looked bored.'

‘Now, Mr Werth, we will speak to your wife later. We'd like to know what you think. Did
you
think he looked
bored
, as you put it?'

‘I rather think I did. She'd speak and he didn't look interested. I remember thinking that if I had a wife quite that pretty, I would pay attention to what she said. Or at least her face while she said it.'

There was a ripple of laughter through the upper gallery. Mr Werth looked up, smiled. Celia's heart sank. He knew they liked him! He was playing to the gallery now. For those up there, the first lot of witnesses, praising Arthur and saying he didn't mistreat Louisa, had been terribly disappointing. Now they had what they really wanted: the man who showed him as a villain. They were settling back in their seats, opening up tins of cough sweets, getting ready for the show.

Mr Cedric began asking more questions about the day, Arthur's
appearance, how Louisa had seemed. Mr Werth answered every one, smiling, even looking up to the gallery after one joke about Arthur's smart dress making him look a bit like a chap out of a music hall. Celia could feel the warmth of the room swelling towards him. Even one of the men on the jury let out a smile and then suppressed it.

‘So, we see Mr de Witt on the cliff with Mrs de Witt,' said Mr Cedric. ‘They were walking towards it, you say.'

‘That's right. I didn't spend too long looking at them. I was with my wife, of course!' The court laughed again. ‘But I did notice that they were walking closer to the edge. I said to my wife, as a joke, “The fancy man is going to jump in!” Then we looked away.'

‘But you looked back.'

‘We were still walking. And when I looked back I saw that they were so
very
close to the cliff. I told my wife to look. It reminded me, sir, of when I was a little boy, playing chicken, you know that game?'

‘I do, Mr Werth. But I shall explain for the benefit of anyone who does not. Children dare each other to run close to the edge, run back, is that correct?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘And so it seemed to you that Mr de Witt was playing chicken. With himself or Mrs de Witt. But they were not racing to the cliff, that is correct?'

Celia looked over at the jury. Everyone was scribbling notes. Now they were listening.

‘Yes, sir. They weren't running. She was in front, he was holding her. They were edging, that's what they were doing. They were edging further towards the cliff. Getting closer.'

‘And why do you think they were doing that, Mr Werth?'

‘I really can't say, sir. Admiring the view?' There was another laugh from the gallery at that.

‘You really can't say?'

‘I suppose I think they were being daring. I'm not sure. She liked it less than him.'

‘Ah.' Mr Cedric gave a long pause. Every second scraped on
Celia's nerves. She couldn't bear to look at Arthur. And she mustn't, of course, she mustn't. The newspapers would see her doing it, think it meant something. Or even worse, the
jury
would see her doing it. ‘You say the young lady had less enthusiasm for this game of chicken than Mr de Witt.'

‘I'd say so. I heard her give a little shriek.' There was an intake of breath. ‘I heard her say “No!”' There was another gasp and a hubbub of voices.
Oh, the satisfaction
, Celia thought angrily. This was the kind of thing that everybody came to hear. Scandal. She felt Emmeline tense beside her.

The clerk banged his hammer. ‘Silence!' The voices quietened.

Mr Cedric walked closer. ‘Mr Werth. If you could repeat this for me. You said you heard a shriek? That you heard the lady say – “no”?'

‘I did, sir. I was shocked. I thought perhaps I should go forward and see.'

‘And you are quite sure you heard this shriek? You are quite sure that the lady said “no”?'

‘Couldn't be surer, sir.' Celia tried not to stare at the jury. They were scribbling hard, one of the women bent so low over her paper that her hair was falling out of its style. She looked across at Mr Bird. He was watching impassively, face calm.
Don't you care?
she wanted to cry.
Haven't you noticed?
Perhaps they had been entirely deluded by his words in the oak-panelled office, his confident smile, promises that it would be quickly over and it wasn't a thing to worry about. It had all been a lie.
Pay attention!
she wanted to scream.
Arthur is going to hang!
Mr Bird looked down at his paper and made a mark with his pen. It probably wasn't even a word. It was probably just a doodle. There was no possibility that his ‘tragic accident' plan was going to work. They should have followed after the man Arthur had seen. But it was too late now. She clutched at Emmeline's hand.

Mr Cedric was still talking. ‘So. You're quite sure that the lady gave a shriek and said no. And then what did you do?'

‘I wasn't sure what to do. And it all happened so fast. She was falling and she really screamed. Then I shouted, ran forward.
My wife fell on to the ground, she was so shocked. Someone else must have heard me shouting because they started running too.'

‘So you hurried towards Mr de Witt?'

‘I did.'

‘And what did you see?'