There was a sigh around the room and a rustle of fabric as people moved at last.

“Thank you, Superintendent.” Juster bowed very slightly. “Circumstantial, but as you said, the only answer which fits all the facts.” He looked across at the jury for a moment, then back again. “And while it would be convenient for us to tell the court why this dreadful thing happened, we are not obliged to-only to demonstrate to them that it did. That I think you have done admirably. We are obliged to you.” Very slowly he swung around and invited Gleave to step forward.

Pitt turned to Gleave, his body tense, waiting for the attack Juster had warned him would come.

“After luncheon, I think, my lord,” Gleave said with a smile, his heavy face tight with anticipation. “I shall take far longer than the mere quarter of an hour which is available to us now.”

That did not surprise Pitt. Juster had said over and over again that the essence of the case depended upon his testimony, and he should expect Gleave to do what he could to tear it apart. Still, he was too conscious of what awaited him to enjoy the mutton and vegetables that were offered him at the public house around the corner from the court, and uncharacteristically he left them half eaten.

“He will try to ridicule or deny all the evidence,” Juster said, staring across the table at Pitt. He too had little relish for his food. His hand lay on the polished wooden surface, moving restlessly as if only courtesy kept him from drumming his fingers. “I don’t think the maid will stand up to him. She’s frightened enough of just being in a courtroom, without a ‘gentleman’ questioning her intelligence and her honesty. If he suggests she can’t tell one day from another, she’s very likely to agree with him.”