William Monk 19 - Blind Justice

whole honor of the law into the filth of your one grubby little victory—which in the end slipped out of your hands anyway.”
    Brancaster stood up, his face dark with anger. “My lord—”
    “Sit down, Mr. Brancaster,” York said wearily. He turned to Wystan. “We are a little early for speeches, Mr. Wystan. It is just conceivable that the accused has some explanation for his behavior. I cannot imagine what it might be, but we must wait with what patience we can. No doubt Mr. Warne was uncomfortable with this miserable piece of evidence, but he had been given it by the judge in the case. He would hardly be serving the Crown if he allowed it to be ignored.” He shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Nor could he reasonably have supposed that Sir Oliver would allow it to be. Are you asking us to believe that Mr. Warne could have persuaded Sir Oliver to rule such evidence inadmissible when he himself had presented it and vouched for its provenance? God alone knows what he was doing with such things, but he had them in his own personal safekeeping and knew exactly where they came from. I think you are expecting miracles from Mr. Warne that are far beyond his skill to achieve.”
    Wystan’s eyes blazed with anger, but he knew better than to argue. He said nothing but walked stiffly back to his seat.
    Brancaster stood up and went slowly to the center of the floor. His head was lowered in a moment’s contemplation before he looked up at Warne.
    “Thank you for your candor, Mr. Warne. I do not imagine you are here willingly. You have no choice but to testify, is that right?”
    “None,” Warne replied.
    “Did you hesitate to use this particular photograph?”
    “Yes …”
    Wystan stood up. “My lord, we have been over this. Mr. Warne may have hesitated all night, for all we know. The fact is, he did use it.”
    York nodded. “Please move on, Mr. Brancaster. Mr. Warne may well have sat up all night looking at this miserable thing. It may have revolted him until he was ill. The fact remains that he used it, and, more to the point, he does not deny that it was Sir Oliver Rathbone, the judge in the case, there to see that all the rules of the law were obeyed and justice served impartially, who gave it to him. We expect counsels from the prosecution and the defense to be partisan; it is their job! We expect the judge to be utterly without allegiance or loyalty to anything but the law. If he is not, then he has betrayed both the Crown and the people, not to mention his God-given calling. Now if you have anything helpful to say, please say it. Otherwise, we are adjourned for the day.”
    “I have!” Brancaster said a shade too loudly. Without waiting for York to add anything, he turned again to Warne. “Mr. Warne, did Sir Oliver leave it to you as to whether you used this photograph or not?”
    “Absolutely,” Warne said firmly.
    “Why did you choose to? You must have been aware of the risks.”
    “I was,” Warne agreed gravely. “I chose to use it because if I did not a great injustice would have been done. I believe the guilty should be punished but more importantly that the innocent should be vindicated. The witness in the photograph, a dishonorable man by all rights, had ruined the reputation of several decent men. He had publicly made them appear stupid, weak-minded, and devious when they were the victims of the crime. He had betrayed their goodwill, and been complicit in stealing from them. If he were found not guilty, he would have been free to continue on in the same manner.”
    “Do you believe that to have been Sir Oliver’s motive also, Mr. Warne?”
    Wystan stood up.
    “Yes, yes,” York said brusquely. “Mr. Brancaster, the witness cannot know the accused’s motives, good or ill. What he assumed they were isof no value. Had they been despicable, he would hardly have told Mr. Warne so. The jurors must make up their own minds on the subject. Have you anything more to ask? If not, you may go, Mr. Warne, unless Mr. Wystan wishes to pursue anything else in reexamination?”
    Brancaster could get no further, and he knew it. He retired with as much grace as he could, and Wystan declined to reexamine.
    York adjourned the court until the next day, and Rathbone stood up, his whole body aching, and walked between his guards down the steps and back to the prison to wait for tomorrow. He had never in his life felt so utterly alone and helpless.

CHAPTER
14
    S CUFF SAT AT THE breakfast table and ate his