Page 87 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘I’m glad somebody has,’ said Richard. He was feeling nervous. The prospect of prison was terrifying, and Carson’s brisk, cheerful demeanour somehow didn’t reassure him. It gave him the impression that he didn’t care much either way how Richard’s case went, that he was just enjoying himself.

‘What we want from you is modest and manly. Nothing cocky or care-for-nothing. Show respect, but not obsequiousness. Don’t smile – but don’t look nervous, either.’

‘Do you think I’m the Rubber-faced Man at the Alhambra?’ Richard grumbled.

‘And don’t make jokes,’ Carson said severely. ‘If you’re asked a question, answer directly and simply. Don’t elaborate. Don’t offer opinions or suppositions. In fact, don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.’

‘No, sir,’ Richard said facetiously. He glanced round. ‘I wish someone had come along to show me support. Doesn’t it look bad that they haven’t? I mean, isn’t there a thing about attesting to good character?’

‘I don’t think we’ll need that,’ said Carson. ‘I’ve an idea about how this is going to go. What we’re showing Lewthwaite today is a simple soldier who served his country, returned wounded, and is facing up bravely to a false accusation, trusting in his own innocence to clear his name. He’ll love that.’

‘Innocence?’ Richard said, with a worried frown.

Carson gave him a stern look. ‘Were you driving the car at the time of the accident?’

‘I don’t remember,’ Richard said desperately.

‘Exactly. You have no recollection of driving the car. Say after me, “I have no recollection of driving the car.”’ Richard said it. Carson slapped his shoulder – the good one, fortunately. ‘And trust me,’ he concluded.

The police constable looked tired, and somehow vulnerable with his helmet off. He gave his evidence in the usual police sing-song, reading from his notebook.

Carson allowed an instant of silence at the end of it, during which the constable looked from him to Richard and back, as though wondering if that was all. Then he said, ‘The motor-car, you say, was travelling fast, and downhill.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘So it must have passed you in a flash.’

‘That’s right, sir. Going like a bat out of hell, it was.’

‘Going too quickly, I think, for you to have more than a glimpse of the people in it.’

‘I saw the three young gentlemen, sir.’

‘I suggest you saw three male figures,’ Carson said, ‘but you would not have been able to discern their features. Not so as to recognise them again.’

The constable gave him a sturdy look. ‘I saw them when I reached the crashed motor-car, sir. I saw them all then, all right. Close up.’

‘Indeed, Constable. Tell me what you saw when you reached the site of the crash. What were the gentlemen doing?’

‘Well, sir, one was wandering about, walking in circles, like. Holding his elbow, and cursing. He said—’ He looked at his notebook and up again. ‘It was pretty ripe language, sir.’

There was laughter in court. ‘I’m sure it was,’ said Carson. ‘No need to repeat it. It was just general cursing, I take it? Nothing of substance?’

‘Just as you say, sir.’

‘And the others?’

‘One was being sick, sir. The other was lying crumpled up on the grass. I went over immediately to look at him, and ascertained that he was unconscious but alive.’

‘And is that particular young gentleman in court today?’

The constable indicated Richard. ‘That’s him there, sir.’

Carson settled his weight comfortably. ‘One smashed motor-car. Three young gentlemen, all of them out of the car, one way and another. One walking about, one unconscious, one being sick. What made you conclude, Constable, that it was this gentleman here who had been driving the vehicle?’

The policeman looked puzzled for a moment. He opened and shut his mouth. Then he referred to his notes again, and his brow cleared. ‘When I questioned them, sir, the other two gentlemen said they hadn’t been driving.’

‘Just to be clear, Constable, you asked each of them in turn, “Were you the driver?” or words to that effect. Is that the case?’