Page 68 of Traitors Gate

She adjusts her gown, opens the red leather notebook in front of her, removes the top from her fountain pen, leans back and nods to the clerk of the court. Everyone remains silent as the seven men and five women file in and take their places in the jury box, which has a commanding view of the stage. Once they are settled, the clerk looks up at the defendant from behind his desk and says, ‘Will the defendant please rise.’

Inspector Ross Hogan, dressed in a dark grey suit, white shirt and Metropolitan Police tie, stands and looks directly at the judge who is staring down at him.

‘Inspector Hogan,’ the clerk says in a clear crisp voice. ‘You are charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice. How do you plead?’

‘Not guilty,’ replied Ross, looking directly at the judge.

Once the clerk sat down, this was the cue for the judge to deliver her opening lines.

‘Mr Booth Watson,’ she said, looking down at counsel’s bench, ‘are you ready to deliver your opening statement?’

‘I most certainly am, m’Lady,’ said Booth Watson, giving her a slight bow before he cleared his throat. ‘M’Lady, I think you and the jury will find this is a simple case of police corruption where an experienced officer took advantage of a naïve and innocent woman.’ Once Booth Watson had fired his opening salvo he went on to outline the case for the prosecution, and forty minutes later, having described Inspector Hogan as louche, duplicitous and corrupt, bordering on evil, he sat back down, a satisfied look on his face. If the jury had been called on to deliver a verdict at that moment, Ross would have been hung, drawn and quartered.

The judge, who’d seen it all before, was not quite so ready to assume guilt, and after prosecuting council had delivered his opening statement, she looked down at Mr Booth Watson and said, ‘You may call your first witness.’

Booth Watson rose from his place once again and said, ‘I call Mrs Kay Dawson.’

‘Call Mrs Kay Dawson,’ could be heard echoing around the corridor. A few moments later a middle-aged woman entered the court and made her way slowly across to the witness box without even glancing at the defendant in the dock. She was wearing a smart white suit, a white blouse buttoned to the neck, with a simple marcasite brooch and little make-up. She’d dressed for the jury.

Once Mrs Dawson had taken her place in the witness box, the clerk handed her a copy of the King James Bible which she held in her right hand before reading out the oath from a card held up by the clerk.

‘I swear that the evidence I shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me God,’ she added, which was not on the proffered card.

Mr Booth Watson looked across at the witness and in a gentle and soothing voice asked, ‘Will you please state your name and occupation for the record?’

‘My name is Kay Dawson, and I am a senior sales assistant at Marks and Spencer’s in Bromley.’

‘Will you please tell the court how you first came into contact with the defendant?’

‘I was serving on a jury at Southwark Crown Court, where Inspector Hogan was giving evidence on behalf of the Crown in a drugs case.’

‘Did anything surprise you when he gave his evidence?’

‘Leading,’ muttered Sir Julian.

‘Yes. He kept staring at me, and when he left the witness box, he winked.’

‘He winked?’ repeated Booth Watson in disbelief. ‘And when did you next come across Inspector Hogan?’

‘Later that afternoon. I had left the court at the end of the day and was on my way home when he passed me in the street. I thought nothing more of it until he stopped, turned around and said hi.’

‘How did you respond?’ asked Booth Watson.

‘I hesitated, because I was fairly sure I wasn’t allowed to speak to a witness during the trial. However, he assured me that was not the case, as he’d finished giving his evidence.’

‘What happened next?’

‘He asked me if I’d like to join him for coffee, which I agreed to, but now realize was a mistake.’

‘While you were having coffee together, did he raise the subject of the trial?’

‘No, he did not. That came later.’

‘How much later?’

‘He called me the following morning and invited me back to his place that night for a drink.’

Sir Julian made a note on his yellow pad.

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