Twenty-One Days (Daniel Pitt #1)(9)

‘Yes . . .’

‘Now look at these.’ Ottershaw pointed to the casing and a break in the lines below the whorl. Only a print of a thumb was there, but the lines were at a different angle, and there was a brief break in them: islands. Different! They were not made from the same thumb. He indicated the photograph of the right thumb, and then pointed to another photo. ‘Isn’t the left thumb either,’ he said with conviction. ‘Of course, we don’t know whose it was. Doesn’t matter for this trial if we did. This is cause only for reasonable doubt.’ He looked at Daniel carefully, to be sure he understood.

‘Of course,’ Daniel agreed, but he now had proof that Blackwell was not the murderer.

Ottershaw shook his head. ‘Lot to learn, dear boy. Jurors are twelve ordinary people, not twelve enthusiasts for new adventures of the mind. Sitting still all day trying to concentrate on the arguments going on in front of them is enough adventure for most. They believe what they can understand. Trust me, I’ve tried to explain some finer points of science, and I might as well have saved my breath to cool my porridge. You’ve not only got to be right, you’ve got to be better than the other man. And Sefton is no fool. I know him. He’ll try to make them think your chap’s a trickster, a fraud. And that you are na?ve. You won’t win them over just with facts.’ He shook his head as if he had said this many times before, but to no effect.

Daniel felt suddenly deflated. ‘But you can see that that is not Blackwell’s thumbprint!’ he exclaimed.

‘You can see that,’ Ottershaw agreed. ‘But if I don’t want to believe that, then I won’t.’

‘Yes, you will,’ Daniel contradicted immediately.

Ottershaw smiled widely. ‘Yes,’ he conceded. ‘I will. Because Blackwell is a rogue, but I don’t think he’s a killer. And I’d like you to win. I like you. You’re the future, open-minded, willing to learn, eager, and with sense to listen to what you’re told – most of the time. But that isn’t enough to win.’

Daniel was deflated. ‘Then what is?’

‘Make them want to believe you, and then show them why they should. They’ll do it then, and Sefton won’t argue them out of it.’

‘But I’ve only got half a day!’

Ottershaw’s eyes were bright. ‘Then you’ll have to be quick!’

‘We both will,’ Daniel assured him. ‘I’m going to call you as a witness. I need an expert to swear to all of this. We haven’t needed you before because there were no fingerprints.’

Ottershaw’s face shone. ‘Good. Should we have a cup of tea?’

‘What?’ Daniel was caught on the wrong foot.

‘Do you want a cup of tea? I’m not working all night without a cup of tea and a piece of cake!’

‘Oh – yes. Yes, please.’ Daniel had not realised how much he would like that. ‘Would you like me to make it?’

‘Good idea. Then get ready to work, my boy. We’ve a lot to do. But we’ll start by establishing the ground rules, eh?’ He looked steadily at Daniel.

‘Yes . . .’

‘Good. They are simple. I’ll do as you say, as to the law. You do as I say, as to science – and human nature.’

‘I’ve—’

‘You’re agreed. Excellent.’

Daniel had been about to argue the point, but he looked at Ottershaw again and changed his mind. ‘Yes, sir.’

Ottershaw waited.

‘Yes, sir,’ Daniel reaffirmed.

‘Now, about that tea . . .’

Daniel slept on Ottershaw’s sofa for a couple of hours, then rose and washed. He borrowed Ottershaw’s razor at risk of cutting his throat; he had never used an open blade before. He borrowed a comb to make his unruly brown hair lie reasonably flat.

He then carefully packed the gun Ottershaw had lent him for the demonstration he planned in the courtroom.

After a hasty breakfast of porridge, they set out for the courthouse. Ottershaw at least had a reasonable spring in his step. He did not know Blackwell enough to care deeply about saving his life. Daniel, on the other hand, knew both Blackwell and Mercy, even if he had met them only recently. He cared very much, not just that Blackwell might lose his life, and Mercy lose all that she cared about most, but also because they trusted Daniel to help them, whether it was a tactic to engage him or not. Although it might have begun that way, now it was real.

The trial began very much as it had adjourned the day before: the gallery was packed, the jurors expectant, and Sefton looked confident and very nearly triumphant. He could already smell the delicious aroma of victory, and the dish was set before him.

‘Mr Pitt?’ the judge said with his eyebrows raised.

‘Yes, my lord.’ Daniel rose to his feet. ‘I call the only witness for the defence: Dr Octavius Ottershaw.’

Sefton rose immediately. ‘My lord, Dr Ottershaw is well known to the court. He is a fingerprint expert. Possibly the best. We hardly need his expertise to tell us that there are no fingerprints on the gun that was used to murder Hinton.’

The judge looked at Daniel. ‘I do hope this is not a diversionary tactic of desperation, Mr Pitt?’

‘No, my lord. Far from it,’ Daniel responded immediately.