When the court reconvened, Mr Justice Gray asked defending counsel if she would like to call her first witness. Ms Warwick rose from her place and said, ‘I shall not be calling any witnesses, Your Honour.’
A murmur went up around the court. William leant forward and whispered in Hayes’ ear, ‘So if Amhurst isn’t going to testify, won’t that make the jury assume he’s guilty?’
‘Possibly. But don’t forget your sister will have the last word. And if I’d been representing Amhurst, I would have given him the same advice.’
The judge turned his attention to prosecuting counsel.
‘Are you ready, Mr Hayes, to sum up on behalf of the Crown?’
‘I am indeed, Your Honour,’ said Hayes, who rose and placed his summation on the little stand in front of him. He coughed, adjusted his wig and turned to face the jury. ‘Members of the jury, what a fascinating case this has turned out to be – although perhaps you might feel that you are attending a performance of Hamlet without the prince. Let me begin by asking you, why defending counsel never once in her cross-examination of Detective Constable Warwick mentioned the pages of Winston Churchill signatures that were found in the defendant’s home, written on pages torn from a 49p W.H. Smith lined pad. I think we can assume that they weren’t signed by the great war leader, and not least because he died before decimalization.
‘We also know that DC Warwick found a complete set of Churchill’s The Second World War in the defendant’s home, of which three of the six volumes were signed and three unsigned. So I’m bound to ask why the other three weren’t signed.’ Hayes paused. ‘Perhaps they were next on his list?’
One or two members of the jury rewarded Hayes with a smile.
‘And next, you must consider the signed copy of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Defending counsel would have you believe that it is a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. Did you not find that a little too convenient? Isn’t it more likely that Mr Amhurst bought an unsigned copy of A Christmas Carol, along with its original receipt, on one of his many visits to bookshops all over London? You might also ask yourselves why two Scotland Yard detectives, having carried out a comprehensive search of Mr Amhurst’s residence, didn’t come across that receipt.
‘I am quite happy for you to decide,’ continued Hayes, his eyes never leaving the jury, ‘if you prefer to believe the more romantic version, as suggested by my learned friend, or the more likely version, as supported by the facts. I feel confident that common sense will prevail.’
When Hayes resumed his place on the
bench, William wanted to applaud, and felt they were back in with a chance. The judge looked across at defending counsel and asked if she was ready to put the case for the defence.
‘More than ready, Your Honour,’ replied Grace, as she rose from her place. She looked directly at the jury for some time before she spoke.
She began by reminding them that in English law, it was the defendant’s privilege not to enter the witness box, which might have proved quite an ordeal for ‘this frail old gentleman’.
‘He’s only sixty-two,’ muttered Hayes, but Grace sailed on, ignoring the ill wind.
‘Let us now consider what is undoubtedly the crucial piece of evidence in this case. If Mr Amhurst is guilty as charged, and was in possession of an autographed first edition of A Christmas Carol, why didn’t he offer it for sale, as it would have fetched ten times as much as a signed set of Churchill’s history of the Second World War? I’ll tell you why, because he wasn’t willing to part with a family heirloom, which he will in time pass on to the next generation.’
‘He doesn’t have any children,’ William whispered in Hayes’ ear.
‘You should have told me that earlier.’
‘Last night, members of the jury,’ continued Grace, ‘while I was preparing this case, I spent a little time calculating how much Mr Amhurst would have made had he sold the three volumes of Churchill’s memoirs that Constable Warwick produced in evidence and claimed had been falsely signed. It comes to just over a hundred pounds. So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I would suggest this is hardly the crime of the century. Yet for reasons best known to itself, Scotland Yard has chosen to come down on Mr Amhurst with the full force of the law. If you believe beyond reasonable doubt,’ she emphasized, ‘the Crown has proved that Cyril Amhurst is a master forger and an accomplished fraudster, then he should spend his Christmas in prison. If, however, you find, as I believe you will, that the Crown has not proved its case, you will surely release him from this ordeal and allow him, like Tiny Tim’s father, to spend Christmas in the bosom of his family.’
When Grace sat down, Mr Hayes turned and whispered to William, ‘What a pro. She’s a chip off the old block. Your father would have been proud of her.’
‘But not of his son,’ hissed William, who could quite happily have murdered Grace.
The judge’s summing-up was fair and unbiased. He presented the facts without trying to influence the jury in either direction. He placed considerable emphasis on the unexplained sheets of Churchill signatures, but he also stressed that the Crown had produced no evidence to prove that A Christmas Carol was not a family heirloom. After he had completed his summation, he instructed the jury to retire and consider their verdict.
Just over two hours later the seven men and five women filed back into the jury box. Once they were settled, the clerk of the court asked the foreman to rise. A stout, steely-looking woman in a smart, tightly fitting check suit rose from her place at the end of the front row.
‘Foreman of the jury, have you been able to reach a verdict on which you are all agreed?’
‘Yes we have, Your Honour.’
‘On the first charge, of forgery, namely of the signature of Sir Winston Churchill on eighteen books, with the intention of deceiving the public and making a profit. Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?’
‘Not guilty,’ she replied firmly.
‘And on the second charge, of being in possession of a book bearing the forged signature of Charles Dickens with the intention of deceiving the public and making a profit. Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?’
‘Not guilty.’
‘And on the third charge, of possessing three volumes from Winston Churchill’s The Second World War bearing the forged signature of Sir Winston Churchill, do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?’