Arthur & George

failed to catch his eye. Perhaps this was court etiquette; or perhaps Mr Vachell was just thinking about the next witness.
    The rest of the afternoon seemed to go well. A number of the anonymous letters were read out, and it was clear to George that nobody in his right mind could possibly imagine he might have written them. The one he had given Campbell, for instance, from the ‘Lover of Justice’: ‘George Edalji – I do not know you, but have sometimes seen you on the railway, and do not expect I would like you much if I did know you, as I do not like natives.’ How on earth could he have written that? It was followed by an even more grotesque attribution of authorship. A letter was read out describing the behaviour of the so-called ‘Wyrley Gang’, which might have come from the cheapest novel: ‘They all take a fearful oath of secrecy, and repeat it after the Captain, and each says, “May I be struck dead if I ever split.”’ George thought he could rely on the jury to work out that this was not how solicitors expressed themselves.
    Mr Hodson, the general dealer, gave evidence that he had seen George on his way to Mr Hands of Bridgetown, and that the solicitor was wearing his old house-coat. But then Mr Hands himself, who had been with George for half an hour or so, asserted that his client had not been wearing the said coat. Two other witnesses reported seeing him, but were unable to remember his garments.
    ‘I feel they’re shifting their ground,’ said Mr Meek after the court had risen for the day. ‘I sense they’re up to something.’
    ‘What kind of something?’ asked George.
    ‘At Cannock their case was that you went to the field during your walk before dinner. That was why they called so many witnesses who had seen you out and about. That canoodling couple, do you remember? They haven’t been put up this time, and they’re not the only ones. The other thing is that at the committal the only date mentioned was the 17th. Now the indictment reads the 17th
or
the 18th. So they’re hedging their bets. I sense they’re moving to the night-time option. They might have something we don’t know about.’
    ‘Mr Meek, it doesn’t matter which they go for, or why they go for it. If they want the evening, they haven’t a single witness who saw me anywhere near the field. And if they want the night, they have my father’s evidence to contend with.’
    Mr Meek ignored his client and continued thinking aloud. ‘Of course, they don’t have to go for one or the other. They can merely suggest possibilities to the jury. But they put more stress on the bootmarks this time. And the bootmarks only come into play if they go for the second option, because of the rain in the night. And if your house-coat has moved from damp to wet, that also confirms my supposition.’
    ‘So much the better,’ said George. ‘There was nothing left of Constable Cooper after Mr Vachell had finished with him this afternoon. And if Mr Disturnal wants to continue with that line, he will have to claim that a clergyman of the Church of England is not telling the truth.’
    ‘Mr Edalji, if I may … You must not see it all as so clear-cut.’
    ‘But it is clear-cut.’
    ‘Would you say that your father is robust? From a mental point of view, I mean?’
    ‘He’s the robustest man I know. Why do you ask?’
    ‘I suspect he will need to be.’
    ‘You will be surprised how robust Hindoos can turn out to be.’
    ‘And your mother? And your sister?’
    The morning of the second day began with the testimony of Joseph Markew, innkeeper and former police constable. He described being sent by Inspector Campbell to Great Wyrley & Churchbridge railway station, and how the prisoner had declined his request to take a later train.
    ‘Did he tell you,’ asked Mr Disturnal, ‘what business was so important that it required him to ignore the urgent request of a police inspector?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    ‘Did you repeat your request?’
    ‘I did, sir. I suggested that he might take a day’s holiday for once. But he refused to change his mind.’
    ‘I see. And Mr Markew, did something happen at this point?’
    ‘Yes, sir. A man on the platform came up and said he’d heard another horse had been ripped that night.’
    ‘And when the man said this, where were you looking?’
    ‘I was looking the prisoner full in the face.’
    ‘And would you describe his reaction to the court.’
    ‘Yes, sir. He smiled.’
    ‘He smiled. He