The foreman of the jury relaxed.

“I don’t follow all his cases!” Donaldson objected. “I’ve got more to do with my time than trace cases of every ambitious constable on the force.”

Juster smiled. “Then I’ll tell you, since it is part of my job to know the men I trust,” he replied. “The answer is no, no one has been wrongly convicted on Superintendent Pitt’s evidence in all his career in the force.”

“Because we have good defense lawyers!” Donaldson glanced sideways at Gleave. “Thank God!”

Juster acknowledged the point with a grin. He knew better than to display temper before a jury.

“Pitt was ambitious.” He allowed it to be a statement more than a question.

“I said so. Very!” Donaldson snapped.

Juster put his hands in his pockets casually. “I presume he must be. He has reached the rank of superintendent, in charge of a most important station, Bow Street. Rather higher than you ever reached, isn’t it?”

Donaldson flushed darkly. “I didn’t marry a well-born wife with connections.”

Juster looked surprised, his black eyebrows shooting up. “So he excelled you socially as well? And I hear she is not only wellborn but intelligent, charming and handsome. I think we understand your feelings very well, Mr. Donaldson.” He turned away. “Thank you. I have nothing further to ask you.”

Gleave stood up. He decided he could not retrieve the situation, and sat down again.

Donaldson left the stand, his face dark, his shoulders hunched, and he did not look towards Pitt as he passed on his way to the door.

Gleave called his next witness. This man’s opinion of Pitt was no better, if rooted in different causes. Juster could not shake him so easily. His dislike of Pitt was born of Pitt’s handling of a case long ago in which a friend of the witness had suffered from public suspicion until being proved not guilty rather late in the affair. It had not been one of Pitt’s more skilled or well-conducted investigations.