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Authors: Peter Murphy

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40

With a shake
of his head, Pilkington stood.

‘My Lord, I call Helen Doyce.'

Mrs Doyce wore a black dress, hat and shoes, an outfit she might have appropriately worn to a funeral; and she had, in fact, worn the same clothes when Frank Gilliam was buried. She regarded the day's proceedings as an extension of that sad occasion in St Ives. She was softly spoken, so much so that the jury had to strain to hear.

‘Mrs Doyce, are you the mother of Jennifer Doyce?'

‘I am.'

‘I would like you to look at something, please.'

After gesturing to Paul, Pilkington handed the usher an object wrapped in a clear plastic cover.

‘The usher will unwrap this for you, Mrs Doyce. Would you please tell the jury whether you recognise it?'

Mrs Doyce took the gold cross and chain from Paul, held it in her hands for some moments, and began to cry, almost inaudibly, but with tears flowing copiously down her cheeks. Martin Hardcastle and Ben Schroeder did their best to look straight ahead.

‘Take your time, Mrs Doyce,' Andrew Pilkington said. ‘There is no rush.'

‘Would you like a break?' Mr Justice Lancaster suggested.

Mrs Doyce shook her head. She took a handkerchief from her handbag and dried her eyes.

‘No, thank you. This is a gold cross and chain which belonged to my mother, Jennifer's grandmother,' she replied. ‘My mother gave it to Jennifer when she was confirmed.'

‘I see. And can you tell my Lord and the jury, based on your own observation, whether Jennifer wore it and, if so, how often?'

Mrs Doyce smiled.

‘I don't think she has ever taken it off,' she replied, ‘except perhaps to have her bath or go to bed. She wears it everywhere she goes. She adored her grandmother, and she adores this cross and chain. She has been asking when she can have it back. I tell her, “when the case is over”, but she is very distressed. She…'

She began to cry again.

‘My Lord, I have nothing further,' Pilkington said. ‘May this be Exhibit Five?'

‘Exhibit Five,' the judge confirmed.

‘No questions, my Lord,' Hardcastle said, hardly rising from his seat.

* * *

‘My Lord, I now recall PC Willis. I don't know whether your Lordship or my learned friend requires him to be re-sworn?'

‘Yes, please,' Hardcastle replied immediately.

Willis duly took the oath.

‘Officer,' Pilkington began, ‘you have already told the jury about your discovery of the body of Frank Gilliam on board the
Rosemary D
, and about your observing that Jennifer Doyce was alive and having her transported to Addenbrookes. I want now to ask you about one or two other matters. Firstly, on the morning of the 30 of January, with Detective Superintendent Arnold and Detective Sergeant Phillips, did you go to the lock keeper's house at Fenstanton?'

Willis turned towards the judge. ‘If I may refer to my notebook, my Lord?'

‘When did you make your notes?' Pilkington asked.

‘On my return to St Ives police station, about an hour later, my Lord. The events of the morning were fresh in my memory.'

Pilkington glanced at Martin Hardcastle.

‘Did he make them on his own, or with the other officers?' Hardcastle whispered.

‘Did you make your notes on your own, or with the other officers?' Pilkington asked.

‘I made them on my own,' Willis replied.

Hardcastle nodded.

‘Then you may refer to your notes, officer.'

‘Thank you, sir. Yes, I did go the Fenstanton lock keeper's house on that morning.'

‘Whose house is that?'

‘The accused, William Cottage, lives there, sir, together with his sister, Miss Eve Cottage.'

‘What was your purpose in going to Mr Cottage's home on that morning?'

‘We wished to question him regarding this case, sir.'

‘I see. Was Mr Cottage at home when you arrived at the house?'

‘No, sir. He arrived about twenty minutes after we did.

‘Was anyone at the house when you arrived?'

‘Yes, sir. Miss Eve Cottage. We identified ourselves as police officers and told her that we wished to speak to her brother. She said he would be back before too long, and invited us into the house to wait.'

‘Yes,' Pilkington said. ‘While you were waiting, did you notice anything in particular about Miss Cottage's appearance?'

‘I did, sir.'

‘What was that?'

‘I noticed that she was wearing a heavy gold cross and chain.'

‘And why was that of interest to you?'

‘I was aware that a piece of jewellery of that description was alleged to have been stolen during the events on board the
Rosemary D
on the night of 25 January, sir. I had been shown a photograph of the item in question, which I believe was taken for insurance purposes.'

‘With the usher's assistance, officer, please look at Exhibit Five.'

Willis nodded instantly as Paul approached him with the cross and chain.

‘That is the piece I saw Miss Cottage wearing, sir.'

‘Thank you. What did you do when you saw it?'

‘Detective Superintendent Arnold questioned her about how she had come by the piece, sir. She said…'

Hardcastle was already half way to his feet when Pilkington interrupted Willis.

‘We can't have what Miss Cottage said, officer. But, yes or no, did she give Superintendent Arnold an explanation for having it?'

‘Yes, she did, sir.'

‘What did you do next?'

‘Superintendent Arnold explained that he had reason to believe that the cross and chain belonged to someone else, and asked her to surrender it to him, which she did without objection, sir.'

‘Did anything else happen on that morning?'

Willis turned over a page of his notebook.

‘Yes, sir. Shortly afterwards, Mr Cottage returned home, and after a brief conversation Detective Inspector Phillips arrested him on suspicion of larceny.'

Pilkington surveyed his own notes for several moments.

‘I will deal with the arrest with Superintendent Arnold and Inspector Phillips,' he said. ‘But if my learned friend has any questions about that, are you prepared to answer them now?'

‘Yes, sir,' Willis replied.

‘Actually,' Pilkington continued, ‘there is one other matter. I think there is no dispute about it. In September 1961, was there an occasion when you arrested the accused, William Cottage, for indecent exposure near a house in St Ives?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did you observe that offence being committed?'

‘I did, sir.'

‘What did you see?'

‘Mr Cottage was hiding in some bushes outside the house and was masturbating while he watched a young lady getting undressed in an upstairs room of the house, sir.'

‘Thank you. Officer, was there any aspect of the incident you found unusual?'

‘There was, sir. As I approached, Mr Cottage appeared not to notice me. I was able to get within touching distance before he saw me. I distinctly heard him humming or singing a tune.'

‘Indeed. Did you recognise the tune?'

‘I did, sir. It was the
Lincolnshire Poacher
.'

‘What happened after you arrested Mr Cottage?'

‘I took him to St Ives police station, sir. He was detained overnight. The following morning he appeared before the magistrates and pleaded guilty to indecent exposure. He was conditionally discharged for twelve months.'

‘Has Mr Cottage been convicted of any other offence?'

‘No, sir, he has not.'

‘Yes, thank you, officer, wait there, please.'

* * *

Martin Hardcastle glanced at the jury with the suggestion of a smile, as if to confide in them, a calculated intimacy. ‘
You know what's coming, don't you? We have been down this road together before.'

‘Are you a musical man, officer?'

Willis laughed briefly. ‘No, sir, not at all.'

Another glance towards the jury.

‘Really? You disappoint me. You sound as though you might be a useful baritone. No singing in the police choir, for instance?'

‘I don't think there is any such thing in Huntingdonshire, sir.'

‘Oh? What a pity. Well, perhaps the church choir, then? No…? Well, regardless, you said that when you arrested Mr Cottage in 1961 he was humming or singing the
Lincolnshire Poacher
?'

‘That is correct, sir.'

‘Well, which was it? Was he humming or singing?'

Willis puffed out his cheeks and exhaled heavily.

‘I really can't recall, sir. It has been more than two years.'

‘But you do recall after two years that it was the
Lincolnshire Poacher
?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Even though you are not a musical man?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘So we don't know whether you recognised the words or the tune, do we?'

‘No, sir.'

Hardcastle paused. Seeing Andrew Pilkington ready to spring to his feet, he extended a hand in his direction.

‘No reason to be concerned. I am not going to risk the ire of his Lordship or my learned friend by asking you to sing it – or even to hum it, for that matter.'

Willis ventured a weak smile. ‘I am relieved to hear that, sir.'

‘Yes, I am sure you are. It's a rather convenient memory to have in the context of this case, isn't it?'

Now Pilkington was on his feet.

‘Really, my Lord, that is quite improper. My learned friend knows better…'

But Hardcastle had already resumed his seat and evidently had no intention of insisting on an answer. Mr Justice Lancaster did not intervene.

‘My Lord,' Andrew Pilkington said, once Willis had left the courtroom. ‘The Crown's next witness is Jennifer Doyce. I am sure your Lordship will appreciate that we want to complete her evidence in one day, rather than keep her waiting this afternoon and having to come back tomorrow. So I have not asked her to be here this afternoon. I have taken the liberty, after consulting with Dr Walker, of asking them both to be present for 10.30 tomorrow morning. I hope that will meet with your Lordship's approval.'

‘Yes, of course,' the judge replied.

‘I have no other evidence to call today,' Pilkington said.

The judge smiled at the jury.

‘Then that is all for today. Please be back in time to resume at 10.30 tomorrow morning, members of the jury.'

* * *

‘Well, I thought that went as well as we could have hoped this afternoon, Mr Cottage,' Martin Hardcastle said.

The team had once more gathered outside the small cell at the back of Court 1 and had, as usual, only a few minutes before the prison officers took Billy Cottage back to Bedford for the night.

‘What did you think?'

Billy nodded. He did not really know what to think, but if his main barrister thought it had gone well, then that was a good sign. He did not understand why. The mention of his previous conviction had unnerved him, and so had the repeated references to the
Lincolnshire Poacher
. Every time the song was mentioned, the words ran through his head like some kind of endless tape he was powerless to control. The words stayed in his mind. It was almost as if he could form no other thought while they were there. Once or twice, he had felt that he might just blurt them out, start singing aloud, right there in the courtroom. He knew how mad that would be, but once or twice he was not sure that he could stop himself. The urge was particularly strong during the moments when he thought Martin Hardcastle was going to invite a witness to sing. How could he avoid joining in? That thought unleashed another train of thought. What would happen when his turn came to give evidence, when he had to speak in court? Would he be able to control the words then? And what about Eve? What would she say when the prosecuting barrister asked her hard questions? What might she tell him? And that brought back the spectre of being hanged.

‘Can I ask you something, Mr Hardcastle?'

‘Of course.'

‘When will I be giving evidence?'

Martin knew that Ben and Barratt had both answered that same question more than once. It struck him that Cottage could not quite come to terms with it.

‘Not tomorrow. Very likely the day after. We've got Jennifer Doyce tomorrow, then Superintendent Arnold and Inspector Phillips. They are going to take some time. Don't be anxious about it. We will have the chance to talk to you before you give evidence. For now, let's worry about the prosecution's case. We have made some progress, and we may be able to make more tomorrow. One step at a time.'

BOOK: A Matter for the Jury
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