Crossing the Line (19 page)

Kev wasn't stupid, either. He wasn't sullen or defiant or bolshie, he didn't spit or swear. Knowing Kev I bet he wanted to, but instead he looked hard at the front of the dock, blinking back tears and casting anxious glances at his mother, oozing guilt and remorse for what he was putting her through.

Allie helped him. Terrible, but true. I think she was overwhelmed, not by the courtroom but by her own responsibility. She wasn't used to justifying herself. She expected people to believe her: she'd always been believed, she didn't have to work at it. They must have thought she was a spoilt teenager who was used to getting her own way. By the end of her monosyllabic prosecution evidence, the advocate depute looked like she wanted to slap her.

It got worse with the cross-examination. She could hardly get her head round the concept. She couldn't understand why this defence guy wouldn't just take her word for it.

Kev's QC was called Urquhart and he was a nice-looking man. He was middle-aged, hair receding a bit at the temples, his voice resonant and pleasant. I liked him. So did the jury. I didn't much like the advocate depute. She looked permanently premenstrual.

‘Alexandra,' said Mr Urquhart, in his nice voice. ‘This must have been a terrible shock for you.'

Allie shot him a look of mild panic.

‘After all, Kevin Naughton was your brother's good friend, wasn't he?'

‘Um,' said Allie. ‘I wouldn't say …'

‘Wouldn't you? Really?'

‘Well,' she said. ‘Well. Yes. He was.'

‘Except they fell out, didn't they? Not very long ago?'

‘Um. Yes?' Allie's gaze flickered round the courtroom,
not landing anywhere.

‘And some of Kevin's friends hurt your brother Nick?'

‘Kev too,' said Allie. ‘Kev was in on it –'

‘Yes. Before that, Kevin and your brother were quite close friends? Hung around together?'

‘Well, I … yes.' She shrugged. ‘Suppose so.'

Sighing, Urquhart glanced down at his notes as if he'd lost interest. He stayed quiet for a while. Allie fidgeted.

‘He was a big lad, Aidan Mahon, wasn't he?' said Urquhart. ‘Played a lot of rugby.'

‘Um,' said Allie.

‘A little younger than Kevin, but very tall? Very well-built?'

‘Yes,' said Allie. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand shook.

‘He was the kind of boy who could and would defend himself. Wasn't he?'

‘Yes.'

Allie looked at the advocate depute. The AD didn't look back at her. The jury watched both of them, and then their eyes swivelled one by one to Kev. He was blinking at the floor.

Lifting his head a little, Kev cast a pleading glance at Urquhart. As if he didn't want to blame Aidan for what had happened; as if things were already bad enough. Mickey squeezed Mrs Naughton's shoulders, then gave Kev a tiny grave nod of support. Kev looked back at the floor. Straggle-Blonde Juror's eyes filled again.

Smart boys.

‘Of course, there's no question of this being the fault of Aidan Mahon,' Urquhart told Allie severely. (He never called him just ‘Aidan'. He always called him ‘Aidan Mahon'.) ‘But it's easy for a young man to feel threatened, isn't it?'

‘Yes.' She looked shifty.

‘A teenage boy is more likely to be a victim of violent crime than a perpetrator. Isn't that true, Allie?'

‘My Lord …' began the AD, waking up.

Urquhart shook his head. ‘I apologise to my learned friend. But, Allie, do you think Kevin felt threatened by Aidan Mahon?'

‘No,' said Allie, and took a breath to argue, but she never got the next word out.

‘Scared.' Urquhart nodded. ‘Is that unreasonable? Kevin thought Aidan Mahon had a knife. Haven't we all seen this often enough? Kevin's very
life
might have been at stake. Wouldn't he be scared? Wouldn't he lash out? Aidan Mahon came at him! This is what happens when boys carry knives, Alexandra. Fear. Panic. People get hurt. Even when –' he nodded at Kev – ‘even when nobody means it to happen.'

Behind the dock's glass screen, Kev had his face in his hands. There was a suggestion of sniffling and snot, though I couldn't actually see his eyes. I was impressed. I'd have believed in Kev myself if I hadn't known him better.

When I saw Orla's pewter stare locked on the dock,
though, I decided that if anyone was capable of killing Kev, it wasn't Aidan: it was his big sister.

‘Mickey said –' began Allie.

‘Ah, Mickey!' Urquhart interrupted, and she shut up. ‘
You gonnae let him get away with that?
That's what you claim he said, Alexandra, yes?'

‘Not
claim,
he –'

‘
You gonnae let him get away with that?'
Shuffling his papers, Urquhart wrinkled his nose. ‘It's all a bit Wild West, isn't it?'

‘No, I don't –'

‘And you are the only person, among all the many witnesses, who heard this alleged remark?'

‘I … yes,' she said, and bit her lip.

He let that hang in the silence.

‘Even if he said it –'

‘My LORD!' snapped the AD.

‘I apologise! I withdraw that. What you heard, it wasn't exactly an incitement to cold-blooded murder, was it?
Gonnae let him get away with that.
That could mean anything, couldn't it? And we only have your word for it, Allie.'

The AD didn't even bother to protest, though her little finger twitched. So did a muscle under her eye.

Urquhart studied Mickey and his mother. ‘Michael was protective of his brother Kevin. Brothers and sisters: they look after each other. Don't you think so, Allie?'

Silence.

‘It's natural and proper, isn't it? That's what families do. Your brother Nick looked after you, didn't he?'

She met his eyes. ‘Yes.'

‘And suppose your mother was very ill. Neither you nor Nick would want to cause her distress, would you? Do you think Kevin is very different from you? Do you think he's the kind of boy who would cause his sick mother needless distress?'

‘My L—!'

‘Yes, yes, withdrawn.' He hesitated. ‘You're very close, you and your brother. Aren't you, Alexandra?'

That's when Allie stopped even looking at the QC. Instead, her dark eyes held the middle distance. Watching Aidan, probably. This was before we really knew what was happening with Allie; it was before the Aidan delusion had got too bad and obvious to ignore, but with hindsight that's what I think. She was watching Aidan and frankly she looked a bit deranged.

‘I didn't mean to hurt you, Mum!' shouted Kev, slamming his palms against the dock's glass screen as his mother erupted into volcanic weeping. Mickey hugged her, rocked her in his arms. Kev's female solicitor soothed him, patting his arm – as she would – solicitously.

The judge sighed, and rolled his eyes, and looked at his watch, and stopped for lunch.

Staring round the courtroom I thought about the days after Aidan's death, the patch of power-washed pavement
and the pile of stuff that got left on it. Flowers still smothered in cellophane, and home-made cards, some from people who'd hardly known him, with his smiling photo cut out of the paper. A rugby shirt, a rugby ball, teddy bears.
Teddy bears
, for God's sake. Maybe the display of belated affection was counterproductive, because if the jury thought of it at all, they probably imagined it was a gang thing. Teenagers sticking together. Teenagers being sentimental about a boy who'd been part of the whole threatening culture. We didn't even speak the same language, I realised, and I despaired.

Neither Orla nor her father had cried once. The Mahons' stiff upper lips were in danger of letting Kev get away with it, but I could hardly confront Orla in the corridors and tell her so. She was pretending I didn't exist, anyway. Outside the courtroom she was on her mobile for half an hour, mumbling remorselessly to God knew who, and she never once looked up.

When the courtroom was called to order again, Allie was recalled to the witness stand. And Mrs Mahon came in with her husband and Orla, and sat down in the front row.

Orla didn't put her arm round her mother, and Mrs Mahon didn't do any noisy crying, but the jury paid attention anyway. You couldn't mistake her manner for a stiff upper lip or emotional frigidity. It was grief-stricken dignity and it swathed her like a shroud she'd never shake off.

I swallowed and turned away, scared of seeing her cry
or crumble to nothing. Maybe Orla was wrong, maybe we all were; perhaps Mrs Mahon shouldn't have turned up at all. Bad enough that Allie's evidence was a disaster. Aidan's mother shouldn't have to sit through the whole sad farce.

Something had changed, though. Allie didn't look so intimidated now. She gave Urquhart a small direct smile, as if inviting him to go ahead and Make Her Day.

He did.

‘Alexandra,' he began gently. ‘I suggest to you that this wasn't Kevin's fault.'

Allie studied Kev, and then the jury, and then the judge. Her eyes were focused this time – they were dark and intent and frightening, but not mad.

‘Kev meant to do it,' she said calmly.

Urquhart looked a teeny bit nonplussed. ‘If Aidan had a knife …'

‘But he didn't.'

‘But Kevin
thought he did
.' The gentleness was leaking out of his voice, which was turning to sandpaper. ‘And you were
behind
Aidan Mahon.'

‘Yes. Because he stepped in front of me at the last moment.' She shrugged. ‘He was trying to protect me.' She looked at the jury, not at me, and I felt my heart rip at the seams. ‘That's what he did. That's what he was like.'

‘I see. Would he have used a knife to protect you?'

She stared at Urquhart, who had gone puce at the ears, then glanced at Aidan's mother.

‘Course he wouldn't. He never carried a knife.' When Urquhart tried to interrupt her she snapped, ‘And I
could
see. Aidan had his hands up towards Kev. He was trying to stop him and the only thing he had in his hands was
my phone
.'

‘Kevin could have mistaken that for –'

‘Kev knew what it was. He'd just tried to take it off me. And he could see
fine.
We were walking away but Kev shouted at us. Aidan turned round to defend himself, to defend me. Kev pulled out his knife
after he saw Aidan didn't have one
.'

She paused, but Urquhart wasn't quick enough to interrupt.

‘He knew Aidan wasn't armed. He could see that fine.' Allie stared straight into Kev's eyes. ‘He wouldn't have gone for him otherwise.'

I think that's what did it. I think that, and the way Kev reddened and rubbed his collar and wriggled with fury. He looked like a kid caught out nicking sweets, like he was only sorry he'd been caught. He looked like the coward she was calling him. She was calm and brave and frightening, like a pale avenging ghost. The jury were watching Allie intently, and when they turned to Kev their eyes had chilled. Even Straggle-Blonde's.

Kev's fate turning on my sister's scary eyes. I was pleased, but it unnerved me.

Urquhart's shoulders hunched and he scratched behind his ear with a pen, glaring at his papers. The advocate
depute was a lot less premenstrual now. She was downright Mary Poppins. Hello sky, hello sun.

‘To return to the beating given to your brother …' began Urquhart, then hesitated.

Allie looked at me at last. Her gaze was cool. ‘That's my brother's business,' she said.

‘So you didn't feel vindictive towards Kevin, even before Aidan's death?
Vengeful
? In your understandable grief and shock at this terrible event –' he was trying for a recovery there – ‘you wouldn't decide to take revenge on Kevin for what happened to Nick?'

Allie never took her eyes off me. My collar felt tight. Orla had twisted in her seat, but my attention was locked on Allie.

Allie gave a small regretful shrug. ‘Getting a kicking, that was Nick's fault for hanging out with Kev. He got what was coming to him. I think he knows that.'

I felt sick, my stomach lurching. Urquhart fidgeted, furious.

‘So you tell us you wouldn't lie. Not to avenge your brother. Would you do it to avenge your boyfriend, Alexandra?'

She looked at Kev; she looked at the jury. She looked back at Kev.

‘
I
don't lie,' she said.

The Mahons thanked her outside the court – well, through their solicitor they issued a statement that
named Allie – but really she and Aidan's mother had done it between them. The jury had Allie's dark dead gaze burnt into the inside of their eyelids and that's what they must have remembered more than anything.

Premenstrual Poppy got her murder conviction; Kev got a life sentence. Well, I say ‘life'. It never is, of course, but the judge set a tariff of twelve years. That's quite severe. So I'm told.

Still, all Mrs Mahon had to do for her part was turn up. Allie had to perform in front of the whole courtroom, and worse, she had to walk past Mickey and his weeping mother as we left. And he didn't have to act any more.

He let go of his mother as he swung to face Allie, blocking her way, his thin good-looking face twisted into an ugly mask. I shoved forward but he ignored me and he didn't touch my sister. He wasn't stupid. He wouldn't touch her.

Not now, anyway.

Allie met his deep-set brown eyes as the corner of his mouth curled up.

‘I never forget a face,' he said. ‘Bitch.'

I could still picture Mickey's twisted leer, his implied promise. Mickey wasn't in jail. I shivered.

He'd never dared come after Allie before now. I'd always known he wouldn't. His little brother was serving a life sentence and his mother's grief was genuine, if noisy. He wouldn't lose her another son.