Chapter Three

CHAPTER 3

The gavel was hovering in the air like an executioner’s axe with every eye in the place fixed on it when, suddenly, the courtroom doors burst open.

A tall thin youth, with dark eyes and unfashionably long black hair strode in, black coat flapping and bowler hat set firmly on his head. ‘Wait!’ he cried, flinging one arm dramatically in the air. The judge’s gavel froze. The miracle I needed had finally arrived.

The youth marched towards the judge. A f lash of colour against his white shirt grabbed my attention. It was a necktie. I had never seen one quite like it and nor had anyone else, judging by the muttering and the stares. Victorian men wear sober, dull-coloured ties; this one had brightly coloured horizontal stripes!

The judge shook his head in disbelief, or maybe it was despair. He stared at the tie and then at me, as if I had caused the interruption! Luckily, he was distracted by a curious clinking sound coming from the youth.

Talk about making an entrance, I thought, as I craned my neck to locate the source of the strange noise. I quickly saw it came from a metal brace fixed to the youth’s right boot. The rest of the brace was hidden under his trouser leg, and hushed murmurs of ‘polio’ and ‘weak leg’ followed him.

‘What is the meaning of this intrusion?’ asked the judge, with a withering look.

‘She didn’t do it,’ said the youth. He spoke with a south London accent similar to Mr Burke’s.

‘That’s what I told him,’ I muttered under my breath, earning another stare from the judge. But the youth’s words had caused a stir, and the judge turned his attention from me to the crowd. Silence returned and the baby’s mother was careful to keep her thumb in its mouth.

‘What do you mean?’ asked the judge, turning back to the youth.

He means I’m innocent, I thought, fighting a strong urge to point out this obvious fact.

‘I mean she’s innocent, Your Honour,’ said the youth, taking his gloves off and the words right out of my mouth.

‘You can prove this, I presume?’ said the judge, leaning back in his chair.

‘Yes, Your Honour,’ replied the youth.

Proving it is a good place to start, I thought, and as I breathed a sigh of relief a small feeling of hope blossomed inside me.

‘Very well then, get on with it, and tell the court who you are.’
‘I am Morbain Slooth, Your Honour. I work for Mr Burke.’
The judge sighed. ‘Mr Slooth,’ he said, wearily, as he gazed from

the youth to Mr Burke and back again. ‘Just to be clear; are you saying you work for that man there, the man who has been investigating this case for Brigadier Bradley-Bing?’ He pointed to Mr Burke.

‘Yes,’ replied Morbain Slooth.

‘So you are defending the same person as your employer is accusing. Does that not strike you as a little odd?’ said the judge.

It was all too much for the brigadier, who jumped up, outraged. ‘Of course it’s odd. She’s guilty I tell you!’ he spat.

‘Alright, alright, Sir Bradley,’ said the judge, waving at him to sit down. ‘Let’s hear what Mr Slooth has to say, shall we?’

My small feeling of hope grew bigger.

‘I agree it seems odd, Your Honour,’ said Morbain Slooth. ‘But I have uncovered new information which Mr Burke does not yet know about.’

‘Well, you had better let him know about it now,’ replied the judge.

‘Certainly. It’s very simple. The silver salvers are too big for the window,’ said Morbain.

‘Go on,’ instructed the judge.

‘The window that the accused is said to have used to commit her crime is very small, too small for the salvers to fit through,’ explained Morbain. ‘So she can’t have been seen climbing out of the window with them. I believe the window was left open deliberately to point the finger of blame at her, because she is known to have stolen from the club before. Her modus operandi was used against her!’

‘In other words, someone tried to frame me, but the frame was too small,’ I quipped.

‘Correct,’ replied Morbain, but he didn’t smile.

‘Why did nobody measure the window before dragging the accused in front of me?’ asked the judge, who seemed to be on my side all of a sudden. ‘And if it is so small, how did she get through it the time she was caught?’

‘I cannot say why nobody measured it, Your Honour. Perhaps they just assumed it was big enough,’ replied Morbain. ‘As for the accused, I have heard she has an ability to squeeze through very small spaces.’

‘I see. Well, it’s not good enough,’ huffed the judge, and he gave Brigadier Bradley-Bing, Mr Burke and Candice Floss a scathing look. ‘Furthermore, Miss Floss needs to buy herself some eye-glasses. She’s lucky I’m not going to take action against her!’

Candice Floss stared down at her hands as if fascinated by her grubby fingernails. Shame on you, I thought.

‘Thank you, Mr Slooth,’ said the judge, before he crooked his finger to indicate that Mr Burke and the brigadier should approach him. He spoke quietly to them for a moment, then loudly to everyone else. ‘The case against Edith Timms is dismissed!’ he declared and he banged his gavel on the bench once and for all.

‘Actually, Your Honour, I’m known as Cat. I prefer it,’ I told him, unable to stop myself this time.

‘Don’t try my patience, Miss Timms. You are free to go, and please believe me when I say I never want to see you in my court again!’ he replied sternly, although I thought I saw a hint of a smile as he turned away.

Aunt Sadie pushed her way through the throng of people leaving the court and gave me a giant hug. ‘Your mum would have been so proud!’ she beamed. Then she told me she didn’t need my help that afternoon, but not to be late home, and hurried off.

Mr Burke came and apologised to me, which was decent of him, but the brigadier didn’t. He’d really wanted me to be his thief and he was annoyed that I wasn’t. ‘So, Burke, we’re back to square one! What are you going to do about it?’ he barked.

‘Not quite back to square one,’ said Morbain Slooth. There was something in the way he said it that made me think he was very far from being back to square one.

‘You know who did it, don’t you?’ I said. ‘Not yet.’
‘But you’re close, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’

‘When will you know?’

‘Soon after I get back to the club,’ he said, very matter-of-factly, considering what an incredible piece of news this was. I suddenly felt a strong urge to meet the person who’d framed me, so I asked

Mr Burke if I could accompany them.
The brigadier was against it and to my surprise so was Morbain

Slooth. ‘I don’t see why. She’ll just get in the way,’ he grumbled, pulling a face. I was a bit offended to be honest.

‘I do see why,’ said Mr Burke reasonably. ‘Miss Timms’s life was almost ruined. She has a right to know who tried to ruin it!’

Nobody jumped to agree and there was an uncomfortable silence. I don’t like being where I’m not wanted, so I was about to walk away when the brigadier suddenly stamped off. It was clear Mr Burke was expected to follow. He frowned and made a decision. ‘Come on!’ he said. ‘We’re all going to The In and Out Club.’

So I didn’t walk away after all. I went with them. And, looking back, it was the most important decision I’ve ever made.