Final Witness by Simon Tolkien

conference on Saturday morning and obtained her assurance that she knew nobody called either Lonny or Rosie and that she had not told anyone about that hiding place in the House of the Four Winds.
        “I’m going to find my client,” said Miles, getting up. “I’ll take her instructions, but I can’t see us objecting to you calling the boy last. Better make sure he turns up, though. Statements are one thing, evidence is another.”
        Miles was gone in a swirl of wig and gown before John Sparling could think of a suitable response.
        
        Peter and Greta were waiting outside court 9 with Peter’s lawyer, Patrick Sullivan, a handsome Irishman who bore more than a passing resemblance to Liam Neeson. Patrick and Peter had been at university together, and it had been a natural development for him to become Peter’s lawyer when Peter had started to need one. The work had taken up more and more of Patrick’s time since Peter had become a minister, and Greta’s trial had made it virtually a full-time occupation.
        Patrick was no criminal lawyer, but he had given Peter and Greta vital support in those nightmare days after Greta was first arrested. He had conveyed a sense that he was truly on their side, that he believed in them, and that was what Peter had craved more than anything else.
        Greta, unsurprisingly, had retreated into her shell as the police began investigating Thomas’s allegations against her, and Patrick seemed to restore some of her confidence. Later, after Greta was charged, Peter had asked Patrick to find a top criminal barrister to take on her case. He appeared to have succeeded admirably. Everyone that Peter spoke to agreed that Miles Lambert was one of the best in the business.
        “I’ve reminded Peter that he can’t be in court during the trial,” said Patrick.
        “That’s right,” said Miles. “Not until after you’ve given your evidence. But Patrick’s told me he’s going to be here most of the time and so Greta won’t be on her own. No need to worry about that.”
        He smiled encouragingly. They’d been over this many times already, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He’d had witnesses before who had disbarred themselves from giving evidence by sitting in court during the trial.
        “How are you feeling, Greta?” he asked solicitously. Trial for murder was a terrible experience for anyone to go through, and Miles knew that waiting for it to begin was one of the worst parts of the process.
        “All right, I suppose. It’s not easy, though. I felt like I was in a zoo when we got out of the car.” Greta’s normally even voice shook, and Peter took hold of her hand and squeezed it. Not being able to be with his wife in court and share her ordeal was almost more than he could bear.
        “I know,” said Miles. “I’m sorry about that. But look, the important thing to remember is that you’re not going to need to say anything until the middle of next week at the earliest. It’ll probably be the end of next week, in fact. The prosecution has got a lot of evidence to get through, and they’re calling Thomas as their last witness. They say he needs time to get over whatever happened last Wednesday.”
        “Nothing happened,” Peter interjected. “He’s made it up just like everything else. He just can’t stop. Ruining our lives and his.”
        “All right, Peter,” said Greta. “Not now.” She drew a great deal of support from Peter’s anger against his son, but this was not the time for any loss of control.
        “Is this a problem?” she asked. “Thomas going last?”
        “No, I don’t think so,” replied Miles. “It’ll make the jury see how little the prosecution has got without him.”
        “Yes. Yes, I see that.”
        Greta smiled, but this only made the tension in her face more visible. She looked perfect, Miles thought. She’ll make the