Turn a Blind Eye

15

Sir Julian and Grace arrived at the Old Bailey just after nine that morning.

Overnight, Clare had come up with some more incisive questions that she felt would catch Rashidi off guard, and Sir Julian appeared a bit more hopeful that Booth Watson had been left with no choice but to allow his client to enter the witness box.

By the time they arrived in court, Booth Watson was already setting up his stall in preparation for the final witness. Sir Julian would have liked to have sight of the list of questions he had prepared for Rashidi, but accepted that he would have to wait like everyone else, until the clock struck ten.

When their eyes met the two gladiators barely raised their visors.

Next to enter the arena was the defendant, who took his place in the dock. Booth Watson looked around and gave him a warm smile. If Rashidi was nervous about giving evidence in his own defence, there was no sign of it.

‘I’m pretty sure he’s wearing the same suit as he did on the opening day,’ ventured Grace after a surreptitious glance in Rashidi’s direction.

‘You may be right,’ said Sir Julian, ‘but I’m still not convinced it’s a risk worth taking. After all, BW’s second-guessed everything else we’ve come up with so far.’

Bang on cue the referee entered the arena. Mr Justice Whittaker bowed low before taking his place in the high-backed chair above them, and waited for the seven men and five women to file in and resume their places in the jury box. Grace felt they all looked especially alert that morning, no doubt in anticipation of the main attraction.

William slipped in a few moments later and took a seat at the back of the court, just as proceedings were about to begin.

‘Mr Booth Watson,’ declared the judge, looking down from on high. ‘You may call your next witness.’

‘Thank you, m’lud,’ said defence counsel, who once again glanced in Rashidi’s direction before saying, ‘I call Mr Bruce Lamont.’

William was momentarily stunned, while everyone around him began talking at once. Even so, he assumed his father wouldn’t have been taken by surprise, until he saw him leap to his feet.

‘M’lud, the Crown has not been informed about the possibility of this witness giving evidence, and has therefore had no time to prepare for such an eventuality. We had assumed that Mr Rashidi would be the defence’s final witness.’

‘I can’t imagine why,’ said Booth Watson, with an air of innocence. ‘After all, I registered my intention to examine this witness with the clerk of the court yesterday afternoon, after some new evidence had come to light, and asked him to inform Your Lordship without fail.’

‘Which he did,’ said the judge. ‘Perhaps it would have been courteous to have also informed the Crown of your intention.’

‘That was remiss of me,’ said Booth Watson. ‘I’ll make sure I don’t make the same mistake again.’

‘It wasn’t a mistake,’ said Grace, unable to restrain herself any longer.

‘Am I my sister’s keeper?’ said Booth Watson with a sigh.

‘As the witness is waiting to be called,’ said the judge, ‘I will allow defence counsel to carry out his examination-in-chief. If you then feel, Sir Julian, you need more time to consider the witness’s evidence, I would of course be willing to grant an adjournment before calling on you to conduct your cross-examination.’

‘As Your Lordship pleases,’ said Sir Julian, not looking at all pleased. He pushed aside the long list of questions he and Grace had spent the previous night preparing, and the early morning rehearsing, in exchange for a virgin yellow pad and a fountain pen. He was pleased to see that both Grace and Clare already had their pencils poised.

William was still seething at the back of the court when a familiar figure walked in, and made his way to the witness box. Lamont was dressed in a dark blue double-breasted blazer, a freshly pressed pair of grey slacks, cream shirt and Metropolitan Police tie. William recalled his oft-repeated homily: always dress smartly when you’re in the witness box. It helps to get the jury on your side.

The clerk handed Lamont a Bible which he held in his right hand. He delivered the oath confidently, without looking at the proffered card, adding the words, ‘So help me God.’

‘What is the one sentence in MM’s report that screams out at you, DS Roycroft?’ asked the commander.

‘They spent another night together in the flat,’ suggested Jackie.

‘No, that didn’t surprise me. But something else did.’

Jackie quickly skimmed through MM’s two-page report once again, but couldn’t spot what the Hawk was getting at. He put her out of her misery.

‘When the two of them left the pub, they were holding hands. Summers doesn’t strike me as the hand-holding type, so we have to assume this is a more serious relationship than we’d originally thought. Which presents us with a different kind of problem.’

‘Plan B?’ suggested Paul.

‘We don’t have much choice, DS Adaja,’ said the commander. ‘With that in mind, all future team meetings will be held only when PC Bailey is on duty in Romford. We will also have to rely on DC Pankhurst to update us on Nicky’s movements, if she’s not to become suspicious. Naive she may be, but a fool she is not.’

Rebecca nodded, but didn’t comment.

‘The one exception will be our usual Monday-morning meetings, which must still go ahead, with PC Bailey present. She can continue to give us her weekly progress reports, which should prove illuminating.’

‘Perhaps she’ll come clean,’ said Rebecca, ‘and admit what a terrible mistake she’s made?’

‘I wouldn’t put your wages on it, DC Pankhurst,’ said the Hawk.

‘Please state your name and occupation for the record,’ said Booth Watson after the witness had taken the oath.

‘My name is Bruce Lamont, and until recently I was a detective superintendent with the drugs squad based at Scotland Yard.’

‘And you were the officer in charge of the successful operation known as Trojan Horse, that took out the drugs factory in Brixton.’

‘I was indeed, sir.’

‘And was it you who arrested my client, Mr Assem Rashidi?’

‘No, sir, I was on the battle bus at the time, in charge of overall strategy for the operation.’

William was glad the Hawk wasn’t in court to hear this claim.

‘An operation that was hailed by the press and public alike as an overwhelming success.’

‘We all thought so at the time, but I began to have my doubts a few days later.’

‘But your team had arrested twenty-eight criminals that night, among them several drug manufacturers, dealers, runners, and most importantly, Mr Assem Rashidi, the man you believed to be their controller.’

‘I thought so at the time, but after further investigation, I began to wonder if we’d arrested the wrong man.’

Sir Julian couldn’t help noticing that the jury were hanging on Lamont’s every word.

‘You’re no longer convinced that the leader of the drugs ring was among those you arrested and charged that night?’

‘No, I am not, sir.’

‘Do you think he might have escaped?’

‘No, sir. I don’t think he was there when we turned up.’

‘How could that be possible when the operation had been planned so meticulously for several months?’

‘I have reluctantly come to the conclusion that someone must have tipped him off before we arrived.’

‘Could that someone possibly have been a member of your inner team?’

‘Perhaps, but I still don’t want to believe it.’

‘Do you have any idea who that person might be?’

‘I have my suspicions,’ said Lamont, looking directly at William. ‘But suspicions alone should never be enough for a good copper.’

William could feel his body tense, but accepted he could do nothing except sit and wait to find out what was coming next.

‘Nevertheless,’ continued Booth Watson, ‘my client was arrested and charged with the despicable crime of manufacturing and distributing illegal drugs. Was it you who arrested him?’

‘No sir. It was Detective Inspector William Warwick who arrested and charged him. He seemed convinced he’d got the right man. But then, Mr Rashidi conveniently fitted the perceived profile of a drugs baron.’

‘I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at, superintendent,’ said Booth Watson, understanding only too well.

‘An Algerian immigrant who ran an import company, previously had a drugs problem, and just happened to be on the premises at the wrong time. We thought we’d hit the jackpot, but it all seemed a little too convenient for me. So I began to carry out a more in-depth investigation of my own.’

‘But surely, superintendent, you must have been tempted to remain silent and bask in your success?’

‘Tempted, yes,’ said Lamont, ‘but then I thought about how even more disgraceful it would be for an innocent man to be sent to jail for a crime he hadn’t committed.’

‘And in the course of your investigations, did you discover anything that would explain why Mr Rashidi just happened to be on the premises at the time of the raid?’

‘He was on his way home from a small warehouse in Battersea that he visits every Friday evening.’

‘For what purpose?’ asked Booth Watson.

‘Mr Rashidi’s family company imports tea, and he always checks next week’s orders on a Friday evening before returning to his home in the country.’

‘That doesn’t explain what he was doing at the drugs factory later that night.’

‘My surveillance team were able to establish that he did occasionally visit the factory, but never for more than a few minutes. I came to the reluctant conclusion he was simply an occasional customer, and not the man we were looking for.’

‘But he could have got any amount of drugs in the City. Why go all the way to Brixton?’

‘Not everyone wants to piss in their own back yard, if you’ll excuse the expression, m’lud,’ said Lamont, looking up at the judge.

‘The Crown would have us believe that Mr Rashidi resided in a luxurious apartment in the adjoining block during the week.’

‘I also investigated that possibility, and quickly established that the defendant returned to his home in The Boltons every night after carrying out a day’s work in the City.’

‘Did you find anyone who could confirm that?’

‘Yes, sir — the housekeeper and his chauffeur, a Falklands veteran, who are both willing to testify.’

Clare wrote What about his mother? on her yellow pad, before passing the observation to Sir Julian.

‘It may also be relevant that the house is in Mr Rashidi’s name,’ continued Booth Watson.

‘Of course it is,’ murmured Grace. ‘And guess who pays the wages of both the chauffeur and housekeeper.’

‘None of this explains DI Warwick’s claim that he found a photograph of Mr Rashidi’s mother on a bedside table in an apartment in Block B.’

‘If he did,’ said Lamont, ‘I never saw it. The only photograph I came across in the flat was the one of Mr Roberts’ mother that was presented to this court as evidence. However, I did look into the possibility that the silver frame might be rare, or even unique.’

‘And was that the case?’

‘No sir. Asprey informed me that they sell around two hundred such frames every year. It’s one of their most popular items.’

Clare nodded, Sir Julian frowned, and William could barely restrain himself. He assumed his father couldn’t wait to tear Lamont apart.

‘And the empty safe which Mr Roberts testified had seven hundred pounds in it,’ pressed Booth Watson. ‘What do you have to say about that?’

‘At the time I took DI Warwick’s word and assumed it was empty.’

William became aware that almost everyone in the court was now staring at him.

‘Did you mention to any of your superiors the possibility that Mr Rashidi might be innocent?’

‘I was reluctant to do so because everyone, including the commissioner of the Met, was convinced Trojan Horse had been an overwhelming success. Indeed, soon after Rashidi’s arrest, DS Warwick was promoted to inspector. So it would be understandable if he had turned a blind eye. I confess I made the same mistake when I was a young detective sergeant, and I’ve regretted it ever since.’

‘Brilliant,’ whispered Sir Julian. ‘He’s not only got it on the record but turned it to his advantage.’

‘But you also turned a blind eye, superintendent.’

‘To begin with, yes, sir, but once I realized that no one was willing to consider the possibility this could be a gross miscarriage of justice, I took what I believed to be the only honourable course of action given the circumstances, and resigned from the Metropolitan Police.’

Sir Julian placed his head in his hands, while William could only stare in disbelief at Rashidi, who clearly was getting his money’s worth.

‘Is it also true, Mr Lamont, that had you remained in the force for another eighteen months, you would have been eligible for a full pension, and no one would have been any the wiser?’

‘That is correct, sir. But by then, I was convinced that an innocent man had been stitched up for a crime he hadn’t committed, and I didn’t want that on my conscience for the rest of my days.’

‘Understandably, Mr Lamont,’ said Booth Watson. ‘I commend you for the fortitude and courage you have shown in wanting to set the record straight, rather than taking the easy way out. I have no further questions. But please remain in the witness box, as I’m sure my learned friend will want to cross-examine you.’

Sir Julian rose from his place and was about to ask for an adjournment when Booth Watson got back onto his feet. ‘I do apologize, m’lud, but there is one more question I should have asked this witness.’

The judge nodded his consent, and Sir Julian reluctantly resumed his seat.

‘Earlier in this trial, Mr Lamont, the Crown made great play of the fact that my client had his suits made in Savile Row by Bennett and Reed, and we know that Inspector Warwick removed several suits from the apartment in Block B as evidence that Mr Rashidi lived there. Did your personal investigations include looking into that claim?’

‘Indeed they did, sir. And despite trooping up and down Savile Row for hours on end, I was unable to find anyone who’d ever heard of Mr Rashidi, let alone made a suit for him.’

‘Were you able to discover where Mr Rashidi had his suits made?’

‘Yes, sir. During the course of my investigations, while questioning Mr Rashidi’s mother to confirm that he resided with her in The Boltons during the week, I asked if she knew where he had his suits made. She told me—’ Lamont paused, and looking up at the judge, said, ‘May I be allowed to refer to the note I made at the time, m’lud?’ Mr Justice Whittaker nodded, and the court waited while Lamont flicked through several pages of his notebook until he found the one he was looking for. ‘Mrs Rashidi’s exact words were, “I think Assem gets all his suits off the peg from Harrods. He’s a regular size, and doesn’t like to waste money unnecessarily.” ’

Sir Julian began to write a note.

‘And did you then—’

‘Forgive me for interrupting you, Mr Booth Watson,’ said the judge, ‘but could this matter not be resolved quite simply by asking the defendant to show us the label on the inside of the jacket he is wearing?’

‘Do you not consider, m’lud,’ said Booth Watson, ‘that would be more appropriate when my client is being examined in the witness box?’

‘I would agree with you, Mr Booth Watson, if you hadn’t already informed my clerk that Mr Lamont will be your final witness. Besides which, if the defendant were to give evidence, he would have more than enough time to change into another suit.’

‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ whispered Grace. Sir Julian didn’t look convinced.

‘You are of course under no obligation to reveal the label of the suit you are wearing, Mr Rashidi,’ said the judge, looking across at the defendant. ‘However, it might assist the jury in their deliberations if you felt able to do so.’

Suddenly, all eyes were looking in one direction. It was clear from the expression on Rashidi’s face that he was reluctant to go along with the judge’s suggestion.

‘Got you,’ murmured William, as their eyes met for a second time, pleased to see the self-satisfied smile had been wiped off Rashidi’s face.

Rashidi rose slowly from his seat in the dock, unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it open to reveal a familiar green-and-gold label that read HARRODS. There was no sign of the initials A.R.

Sir Julian requested an adjournment, which the judge agreed to.

‘How much do you think Lamont was paid to perjure himself?’ asked William.

‘A damn sight more than thirty pieces of silver,’ replied Grace, with considerable feeling.

‘Don’t forget this is the same man who stole a holdall full of money,’ said William, ‘and probably switched the photographs.’

‘We don’t have proof of that,’ said Sir Julian, ‘despite the receptionist reporting that it was a super intendent she’d seen that night, but the duty exhibits officer wasn’t able to confirm it was Lamont.’

‘Wasn’t able to,’ said Grace, ‘or wasn’t willing to?’

‘Be that as it may,’ reflected Sir Julian, ‘I couldn’t help noticing that several members of the jury looked convinced by Lamont’s sincere and heartfelt testimony. To make matters worse, although it was a complete set-up, the Harrods label didn’t do us any favours.’

‘Mea culpa,’ said Grace. ‘I fell for that little ruse on the opening day, when Rashidi was wearing a suit with a Bennett and Reed label inside.’

‘The jury may also have been under the illusion that it was a first-night performance they were attending,’ said Sir Julian, ‘but it had all the hallmarks of a well-rehearsed production, with Booth Watson as the director, Lamont as the lead actor, and neither of them being paid equity rates.’

‘But that’s against the law,’ said William. ‘Barristers aren’t allowed to coach witnesses.’

‘Choirboy,’ said Sir Julian and Grace in unison.

‘If we could get Mrs Rashidi to give evidence,’ said Grace, ‘we could still blow Lamont’s testimony out of the water.’

‘Possibly, but when William interviewed her following the raid, she was adamant she would never bear witness against her son,’ said Sir Julian, ‘however much she disapproved of his criminal activities. If I were to subpoena her, it could well backfire, because the jury’s sympathy would be with a dignified old lady being asked to condemn her only child, by a prejudiced old man trying to defend his.’

‘But we know she never told Lamont that Rashidi stayed at her house every night during the week,’ said Clare.

‘No doubt. But her housekeeper will say he did, and his driver will confirm he drove him from The Boltons to the City every morning and back again at night. What’s more, you can count on Booth Watson keeping them both in the witness box for so long the jury will have forgotten Mrs Rashidi’s testimony. No, we’ll have to spend the weekend going over Lamont’s evidence with a fine-tooth comb and try to identify any inconsistencies, because you can be sure Booth Watson will be doing the same thing as they attempt to anticipate every question I might throw at him. I might even have to consider taking the occasional risk.’

Grace wasn’t sure she’d heard her father correctly.