Blood on the Water by Anne Perry Page B

that Juniver should defend Beshara at all.
    Hester had a considerable sympathy for Juniver. She did not imagine he was speaking for Beshara for any reason except that without a legal defense, there could be no conviction, and therefore no sentence. She had to exercise more control than usual over her tongue to keep from pointing this out to the people behind her. But experience had taught her that such arguments failed. You cannot tell people to take into account what they do not wish to know.
    She sat silently, feeling extraordinarily alone. Was she the only person here who was even considering the possibility that Beshara was not guilty at all? There was no doubt as to the crime or its horror, but the prosecution had not yet produced any connection with the man supposedly guilty of the act!
    The first witness to be called was Sir John Lydiate, the man who had replaced Monk at the head of the investigation.
    To begin with Hester had been angry with him, until sense prevailed and she realized that he also had no choice in the matter. Now, looking at him in the witness stand, isolated from the rest of the court by the high box at the top of its own winding steps, and the fact that it was several yards from anyone else, stared at by all, she felt sorry for him.
    Camborne was respectful of Lydiate’s rank and spoke with great courtesy, but he was very much in control of the entire exchange. He stretched it from the opening of the court on Monday morning, right through until the adjournment for luncheon on Tuesday. It was masterful. Every fact of the explosion was raised, every detail was dealt with regarding the entire investigation and every piece of evidence Lydiate’s men had found, every witness they questioned and every conclusion drawn.
    Lydiate looked tired and distressed, but he was meticulous in his answers and the jury watched his face almost unblinkingly.
    Hester felt the weight of it settle on her like a smothering blanket. Lydiate had followed the rules precisely. He did not exaggerate or assume anything. He erred on the side of caution. There was nothing for Juniver to attack. He tried, and was overruled. He stopped before he lost more of his remaining credibility.
    On Tuesday afternoon the eyewitnesses began. Camborne played it for drama, leaving the few survivors until last. Hester understood that, but there was an essence of deliberate exploitation of their grief in it that she found ugly. Added to that, it was now unnecessary.
    First were the dockside workers who had seen Beshara, or someone like him, watching pleasure boats, even traveling on the
Princess Mary
himself at an earlier date. Was it definitely him? Yes, they remembered him because he was not one of them. Occasionally he used words they did not understand.
    A dockworker named Kent had seen him. Again—was he certain it was Beshara? Yes? Yes, absolutely.
    Juniver objected and York ruled against him. The crowd in the gallery murmured their approval.
    Juniver rose to question the man.
    “You remember him, Mr. Kent?” he said politely.
    “Yes, I do,” Kent said firmly.
    “Why?” Juniver asked.
    Kent looked puzzled. “You asked me.”
    “I beg your pardon. I mean, why is he so memorable to you?” Juniver explained. “He looks very ordinary to me. Except that he’s not English, of course. But there are hundreds of men on the docks who are not English.”
    Camborne moved restlessly in his seat, but he did not overtly interrupt.
    Kent shook his head. “I know he’s not English.”
    “He is one of several hundred men on the docks who are not English,” Juniver tried again. “Why is it that you are sure you remember seeing this man in particular, and not any of a score of others?”
    “I never said that,” Kent answered with an edge of irritation. “Iseen lots of ’em. But I seen him.” He looked up at the dock and nodded. “Came ashore from the
Princess Mary
, he did.”
    “How do you know—” Juniver began again.
    Camborne rose to