The Cruellest Game (39 page)

‘Apparently not. No.’

‘And surely the fact that the accelerator function of these particular cars has been so suspect must still give rise to some doubt?’

‘Not in my opinion, no.’

‘Mr Brown, could I ask you when you actually inspected this vehicle yourself?’

‘When I was asked to do so by the police, a few days after Mrs Anderton’s death, because of concerns relating to the initial examination of the car.’

‘So, not until after you had actually been given cause to doubt that the mechanical damage had been caused accidentally?’

‘Well, no, but—’

‘So it would seem reasonable to refer to the opinion of those who first examined the car, and who did not already have a hidden agenda, would it not?’

‘I had no hidden agenda,’ blustered Maxwell Brown. ‘I was asked to examine the car in order to give a second opinion. I am now relating my findings to this court to the best of
my ability, and I do object—’

‘Yes, indeed, Mr Brown,’ the barrister interrupted thunderously. ‘I am quite sure you do object. But it is the duty of this court to explore all aspects of this case, and as
far as I can see you at least were never in a position to conduct your investigation into the condition of Mrs Anderton’s car in as independent a manner as might have been desired. No further
questions, My Lord.’

Robert was the first witness to be called by the defence. I suppose Mr Small QC was relying on his apparent plausibility, but I may have already partially scuppered that with the jury. Even so,
Robert seemed to be his usual calm and credible self, to start with at least. It seemed hard to believe he could be capable of murder.

Unlike me, far from having lost weight, Robert looked considerably heavier than when I had last seen him. He had the beginnings of a double chin and his belly strained against the confines of
his light-grey double-breasted suit, a suit I had never seen before. I was vaguely aware that a prison diet was supposed to be high in both stodge and fat, and I assumed this was the cause of his
weight gain. After all, Robert had been remanded in custody for almost four months. His hair, cut shorter than usual, was still coal-black, though.

Mr Small began by establishing that Robert had been away on a North Sea oil platform at the time of his wife’s death.

‘I’d gone back to work two days before,’ said Robert. ‘Then I returned to Exeter after learning that Brenda had been killed.’

‘When you were in Exeter with your wife Brenda would you normally also have driven the car in which she died?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Robert.

‘And so, had that car been tampered with in any way you too could have been at risk, as well as your wife?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Robert again.

Pam Cotton was on her feet as he spoke.

‘Objection, My Lord. Counsel is grossly leading the witness.’

The judge half smiled at Joshua Small. ‘Come along now, Mr Small,’ he interjected mildly.

‘I apologize, My Lord,’ said the defence barrister, pausing briefly before asking his next question.

‘Would anyone else have also been at risk, Mr Anderton?’ he asked.

‘Well, yes, of course. My younger daughter Janey. And I would never do anything that might harm Janey.’

Joshua Small then asked Robert about the double life he had led, which Robert admitted with humility.

‘I am ashamed now of what I did and the way I lived,’ he said. ‘I believe that I was responsible for the chain of events that have led to all the terrible things which have
happened to . . .’ He paused, perhaps searching for words. ‘To both my families,’ he concluded.

Mr Small asked him if he could explain to the court why he had embarked on his extraordinary double life in the first place. And Robert began to relate the same story that he had told me,
concerning the legacy of Huntington’s and his inability to cope with its inevitable effect on his wife and daughters.

‘I just wanted to escape from it all,’ he said. ‘I know it was weak of me, but I am not a strong man. Yet I could not bring myself to leave my wife and the poor sick child we
had together brought into the world. When I learned that Brenda was expecting another child I felt betrayed by her, and yet all the more bound to her side. And even less able to reveal the truth
about my double life to either Brenda or to Marion.’

Pam Cotton began her cross-examination by addressing the question of logistics, which she had already set up in her questioning of Maxwell Brown.

‘Would you agree, as already indicated by one of the country’s leading experts in motor forensics, that your whereabouts at the time of the incident which claimed your wife
Brenda’s life is irrelevant, Mr Anderton?’ she enquired.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Robert replied.

‘But I think you do, Mr Anderton. As an accomplished mechanic you would be perfectly able to cut through a cable in such a way that it would continue to function for some miles after
receiving your attentions, would you not?’

Mr Small began to rise to his feet, but Robert answered so quickly and forcefully that he lowered himself back in his chair without raising the objection he had seemed to be preparing for.

‘I didn’t touch the car,’ said Robert.

‘That’s as may be, Mr Anderton, but you must then at least accept that the cable could have been cut in such a way by a person or persons unknown.’

‘I suppose so,’ Robert muttered grudgingly.

‘Yes. And, of course, if you knew that damage had been done you would then presumably have been able to avoid driving the vehicle again before going back to work in the North Sea, would
you not?’

‘But I didn’t know—’

‘All right, Mr Anderton,’ Pam Cotton interrupted. ‘Can we just agree that, with your prolonged absences, your wife Brenda would have been the principal driver of the
Toyota?’

‘I suppose so, yes. But my daughter, Janey, was often with her. I have said already, I’d never do anything to put Janey in danger.’

‘I was coming to that, Mr Anderton,’ said Pam easily. ‘You have already told the court about the dreadful illness which your eleven-year-old daughter will ultimately develop
and how difficult you found it to cope with that, have you not?’

Robert agreed that he had.

‘So, might it not be possible, Mr Anderton, that you may have been prepared to leave to chance the possibility of your daughter being in the motor car with her mother when the accelerator
cable finally split, and indeed her survival, rather more than you would have done were she a well child?’

Pam spoke slowly and deliberately, clearly selecting her words with great care.

Robert, who must surely have been extremely disturbed if not infuriated by this line of questioning, kept his voice level and his manner respectful.

‘I would never do, and have never done anything that might harm Janey,’ he repeated. ‘Nor any of my children.’

In spite of everything I could feel a certain pervading sympathy for him in the court. But then, Robert had always been good at manipulating emotion.

Pam Cotton, however, moved on swiftly to deal with that too.

‘Mr Anderton, you have painted a picture of your actions which seems to me to have little relation to the bitter truth, which is that you maintained a cruel charade for sixteen years
regardless of the feelings of either of the women in your life. Is that not the case?’

‘It’s not how I saw it,’ muttered Robert so quietly that he was asked by the judge to repeat his reply and to speak up.

‘I’m sure it isn’t,’ responded the prosecution barrister. ‘But wouldn’t you accept that many men and women have to deal with serious illness within their
families? Do you really feel that justifies the course of action you chose to take?’

Robert’s aura of humble self-confidence began to desert him. He looked up at the high ceiling of the courtroom as if seeking inspiration. In the end his reply was just one word.

‘No,’ he said.

‘No,’ repeated Pam. ‘You admit that you have been responsible for unleashing a terrible and tragic sequence of events. Can the illness within your family be regarded as
justification for any of that?’

‘No,’ replied Robert again.

‘No,’ repeated Pam again.

‘And yet you went to quite extraordinary lengths over an astonishing period of time, for sixteen years, in order to keep the existence of your two families secret from each other, did you
not?’

‘Yes.’ Robert seemed to have more or less run out of words. And even at that moment I could not stop myself reflecting that that, at least, made a change.

‘So when this double life of yours started to unravel following the death of your son, were you not afraid that your first wife would eventually expose your activities, which were, of
course, criminal, and all that remained of your fragile house of cards would collapse, probably leading to legal action against you?’

‘Well, yes, I was afraid of that, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ interrupted Pam Cotton. ‘And just how far were you prepared to go to protect your unusual lifestyle, Mr Anderton?’

‘Well, I don’t know really . . .’ stumbled Robert.

‘Surely you went at least as far as to threaten your wife Brenda if she exposed your activities to Marion? Surely you did that?’

‘Well, yes. I suppose so. But I only threatened that I would leave her. That’s all.’

‘Are you quite sure of that, Mr Anderton?’

‘Yes. Absolutely. I am not a violent man. I wouldn’t make any other kind of threat.’

‘So, there is no question that you would even have considered murdering your wife in order to protect your double life?’

‘No. Of course not. I didn’t consider it and I didn’t do it.’

‘But just how far would you go to wreak revenge against someone you may hold responsible for the death of your beloved son?’

Robert looked startled, shaken even, by this new approach.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he said.

‘I think you do, Mr Anderton. I think you do—’

‘No.’ Robert interrupted the barrister this time. ‘I told you. I blame myself for Robbie’s death. I blame myself because of the crazy lifestyles I imposed on both my
families.’

‘You blame yourself,’ Pam repeated. It seemed to be a habit with her, if not all barristers, to emphasize almost every significant point by repeating it.

‘Yes, I blame myself,’ said Robert again.

Pam stared at him hard.

‘No, Mr Anderton,’ she barked. ‘That is not the truth, is it? Isn’t the truth that you had reason to strongly suspect that your wife Brenda had in some way been
responsible for Robbie’s death. Very good reason indeed.’

Another of those gasps went round the courtroom.

Robert seemed not to know what to say.

‘I don’t know, I-I just didn’t know, I couldn’t believe that . . .’ he stumbled.

‘But I think you did believe it, Mr Anderton,’ Pam Cotton continued. ‘Certainly your second wife, Marion, the woman you married bigamously, the woman you said was the love of
your life, she believed that Brenda was responsible for Robbie’s death, didn’t she?’

‘Well, yes. She was quite sure of it, from the moment she recognized Brenda’s photograph in the paper after – after the accident. But I c-could never believe that Brenda would
have done such a thing, not even when she told me . . .’

Robert stopped abruptly in mid-sentence, as if he had only just realized exactly what he was saying. But it was too late. Pam Cotton pounced.

‘When she told you what, Mr Anderton?’

‘Nothing, nothing.’

‘C’mon, Mr Anderton. I am sure the jury is already guessing what you were about to say. The entire court is ahead of you now. Would you please tell us what your wife said? What she
told you about Robbie’s death?’

‘I uh, I can’t. It was too awful,’ Robert said.

‘Oh yes, you can, Mr Anderton. Oh yes, you can. You were about to say “when she told me that she had induced Robbie to kill himself”, or words to that effect, were you not, Mr
Anderton?’

‘Objection, My Lord,’ cried Joshua Small.

The judge leaned forward.

‘You will not put words in the defendant’s mouth, Mrs Cotton,’ he commanded.

‘I’m so sorry, My Lord,’ said the prosecution barrister, looking anything but.

‘You do not have to answer that question if you do not wish to, Mr Anderton,’ the judge continued.

Robert didn’t seem to hear him. But neither did he speak. His shoulders drooped. I could see from his body language that he was close to tears.

Pam Cotton had no mercy.

‘Just tell the court what your wife said, Mr Anderton,’ she repeated loudly.

The judge cleared his throat and looked as if he might interject again. But he didn’t. Perhaps he wanted to know what Brenda Anderton had said to Robbie as much as the rest of the court.
And maybe he also thought the court should be told.

Robert looked as if he might fall over.

‘Yes,’ he said. It was almost inaudible.

‘Would you please speak up, Mr Anderton,’ instructed the barrister.

Robert nodded.

‘She told me she had been to see Robbie on the d-day he died,’ he began falteringly. ‘She said she knew the day of the week Marion taught at Okehampton College, she knew he
would be alone studying for his mocks. He invited her into the house. After all, he knew her, knew her as Bella Clooney. She told him who she really was, and that his father had lived a double life
full of lies and duplicity. She said it was easy to convince Robbie that his life wasn’t worth living, that he might as well end it, that she would help him, make it easy for him . .
.’

Robert stopped abruptly. He looked grey and drawn, as if he were about to break down.

I hadn’t expected that. Robert, even at his most vulnerable, had proven himself over many years to be so controlled.

I just stared at him. My worst fears were being realized. But it didn’t seem quite right somehow. Pieces of the jigsaw were still missing, I felt sure. There had to be something more.
After all, Robbie was an intelligent and well-adjusted boy. He would have realized that nothing Brenda had said actually meant he didn’t have a father, however crazy, who loved him. And he
still had me. He still had his mother. Surely that would have counted for something.