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“Mr Small,” Mr McBride said s room to find the lady of the house on the floor, her dress covered in blood You’d been asked to refill the coal bin on your return frolanced down at the notes on his bench “That day was the seventh of July The middle of the afternoon, in the middle of summer Quite the warmest day anyone could remember, the newspapers reported A bit too warm for a fire, wouldn’t you say?”

Jacko blinked “WellIthe nights were still nippy I remember that”

“Yes, of course Bloody English weather Begging your pardon, your lordship”

People tittered The judge scowled “Please get on with it, Mr McBride”

“You say in your statement that you saw quite a lot of blood,” Mr McBride said, nota beat “On the sofa, on the floor, smeared on the door panels and on the doorknob”

“’Sright” Jacko put his hand to his heart “Gave me a turn, it did”

“So you fled the room and went down to the kitchen, where you saw the accused wearing an apron stained with blood She says she got the blood on her because she thought she’d help out the cook by stuffing the chickens for dinner The chickens were still a bit bloody, and she wiped her hands on her apron Correct?”

“It’s what she said, yeah”

“Now, I need your help, Mr Small I must ask you a very important question, so think hard Was there any blood smeared on the doorknob of the door to the back stairs?”

Jacko blinked again He obviously hadn’t rehearsed this question “Um I don’t think so I can’t be sure Don’t remember I was, you know, in a state”

“But you re room You were quite poetic about it”

More titters Jacko looked flustered

What the devil was Mr McBride doing? Bertie’s gloved hand tightened on the railing He was supposed to be proving Ruthie did it, not that Jacko lied Which Jacko had, of course, but how did Mr McBride know that?

Besides, it wasn’t his job to expose Jacko Bertie knew from experience that courtrooms had procedures everyone followed to the letter It was as if Mr McBride had stepped onstage and started playing the wrong part

“Was there blood on the doorknob to the back-stairs door?” Mr McBride repeated, his deep voice growing stern

“Um Yeah,” Jacko said “Yeah, now that I recall it, there was Another big s room I had to touch it to open it It were awful” A few of the jury shifted in their seats in sympathy

“Except there wasn’t,” Mr McBride said

“Eh?” Jacko started “Whatcha mean?”

“The door to the back stairs, or the green baize door as it is also known, had a broken panel It had been taken away, since it was a quiet day, to be mended There was no door that day, not for you to open, nor for the maid to smear blood on”