‘Was Natasha charged?’ Mel asked.
‘No, they let her go. So that won’t get us very far. We’ll see what McDermid says. But Lola – that’s another story. Lola was guilty. She was cautioned five years ago in Leicester.’
‘What for?’
‘Same thing. Shoplifting. The main thing is the fake name. It goes to credibility. She told the Bar Standards Board she had no convictions. Strictly speaking true. But she should have mentioned the caution. Remember the little box where you’re supposed to put anything else that might be relevant? You were right all along. Not what she seems.’
‘She’s waiting to start work at the CPS,’ said Mel.
Alisha made a face. ‘Could be tricky for her. They’ll be looking into her background pretty carefully after last night.’ She paused. ‘So, what about this Lola?’
‘OK. But not a word about Jacob.’
Mel heard movement from beyond the dock and she looked through the glass to see the usher standing beside the judge’s bench.
‘Court rise.’
Their short break was over. In seconds the judge was back, and Alisha had left the dock. From her place at the front of the court, she explained about the arrest.
‘Has Miss Baker been charged?’
‘No, Your Honour.’
McDermid peered down from the Bench; his voice was tinged with irritation. ‘So, a young woman is picked up for shoplifting. She fails to pay for some items. The young woman happens to be pregnant, and in a heightened nervous state. I do not propose to delve into allegations when the police themselves chose not to take the matter further.’
‘Your Honour, the issue relates to credibility. Miss Baker has another name. Lola Tondowski. Unlike Miss Natasha Baker, Miss Lola Tondowski was charged with an offence of shoplifting five years ago. There was no trial. She accepted a caution.’
‘And on what basis do you say this Lola Tondowski and the prosecution witness are the same person?’ queried McDermid.
‘They have the same fingerprints.’
Digger bounced up. ‘Your Honour, this has absolutely no relevance to what happened to Miss Baker six months ago in Dulwich. She was attacked. She was hurt. These are the matters on the Indictment. What she may or may not have done five years ago is not in issue here.’
‘Well, Miss Mehta. I will allow some questioning on the use of the name. If the questioning proves to be unnecessarily prejudicial it will of course be stopped. As to the caution, the usual rules apply. Mr Diggory-Brown, you may wish to re-examine your client.’
The jury was called. Natasha walked slowly across the courtroom, using her right arm to lever herself up the step into the witness box. She wore the same outfit as yesterday, a long-sleeved blue dress that caressed her bump. She looked tired but lovely, an exhausted Madonna.
Alisha began with uncontested matters, aiming to put Natasha at ease by referring to her achievements, how she had worked her way through law school, landed a sought-for pupillage. A sketch for the jury. Not the victim portrait offered by the prosecution. But an ambitious woman. Strong-willed. Tenacious. A woman who might take a step too far to gain her ends. A woman who could be motivated by revenge.
‘Miss Baker, it’s true, isn’t it, that you sometimes use another name?’
Most witnesses would have been rattled, but Natasha kept her cool. ‘Occasionally.’
‘Lola Tondowski?’
‘Lola Tondowski is my birth name. I was adopted at ten. That’s when I became Natasha.’
‘But you still use Lola?’
‘Sometimes. Lola has a Facebook page. I don’t want to lose touch with where I came from. My father was Polish. I never knew him but the name is special to me.’
Mel could tell Alisha was itching to take it further, longing to get stuck in, to expose Natasha as a liar and a predator. But, good barrister that she was, she would not veer from her client’s instructions.
She put Mel’s case, Natasha’s failure to get the tenancy and consequent determination to injure her pupil supervisor in whatever way she could. By slow careful questioning she attempted to shift the jury’s viewpoint. Natasha would no longer be a woman wronged, but a woman ready to cause damage.
Following Mel’s instructions Alisha accused Natasha of plotting her way into Mel’s mother’s house, of planning to pocket her jewellery and sell the vintage costumes for her own benefit. But there was no hard evidence to rely on. When she accused Natasha of blackmail, threatening to expose Mel’s affair if she refused to write the reference, Natasha shook her head slowly.
‘That’s absurd.’
‘But correct, is it not Miss Baker?’ urged Alisha.
‘Absolutely not.’
Apart from that one exchange, Natasha’s demeanour remained calm and unruffled. When it came to the assault itself and Mel listened to the story she had rehearsed in her mind so many times, the scenario sounded horribly unlikely. According to Alisha, Natasha had lost her temper and rushed at Mel who had attempted to defend herself by holding up her arms. Natasha had been wearing high heels and had stumbled, tripping on one of the other shoes scattered across the carpet. Initially she had fallen backwards but hitting the shoe caused her to twist and crash against the dressing table. It had been a horrible accident and had led to serious injury. Natasha’s accusation of assault was simply an attempt at revenge for what she saw as Mel’s lack of professional support.
Natasha denied it all.
Having failed to see her witness crumple in response to direct challenge, Alisha tried a different tack. ‘The Bar is a competitive profession, isn’t it, Miss Baker?’
‘Yes, very.’
‘Things can get difficult in chambers.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You were expecting to get a tenancy at Bridge Court.’
‘Hoping.’
‘And when you didn’t, you blamed Miss Goddard.’
‘I’ve no idea how the voting went. Anyway, she’s entitled to her opinion.’
‘You were angry with her?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Looking for revenge?’
‘No.’
‘And the best revenge would be to blacken her name and ruin her career?’
‘I’ve already said no.’
‘Indeed, you invented this complaint after the event.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘When you fell against the dressing table you were concussed?’
‘Slightly.’
‘It’s in the medical record.’
‘Yes. That’s what they said.’
‘So, you don’t actually remember what happened that afternoon?’
‘That’s not true. She grabbed hold of me and threw me against the dressing table. I might have blacked out for a few minutes afterwards, but I remember exactly what she did. I never laid a finger on her. I told them at the hospital. You saw the evidence. The defendant didn’t even challenge it. And I told Luke when I got back from the hospital. Every word of it is true.’
‘Thank you, Miss Baker,’ said Alisha.
There was no re-examination. At least no one had mentioned Jacob. But for all her years of experience there was not much Alisha could do with a clever, determined witness, particularly one who was telling truth. It was looking bad.