Prelude to a harlot
Chapter One
The quartet of rattan ceiling fans barely moved the humid, stifling air in the crowded courtroom. Pale green paint peeled listlessly from the limestone walls and even the lion and unicorn adorning the Commissioner’s bench seemed to wilt in the oppressive heat. The crowd’s earlier excited buzz had melded into barely concealed apathy as they awaited the return of the judge and jury; a brace of bewigged and black-gowned barristers sweltered helplessly in their regalia, wishing fervently that time could be hastened. All present seemed to be collectively willing the ornate door at the back of the courtroom to open, signalling the end of these tortuous proceedings.
In these parts of the Caribbean, on the northern coast of continental South America, British Giuanan people were used to the sticky climate and even though the Christmas holidays were only a few days away, most were dressed in light garments, white or khaki the predominant colours. That this unseasonably warm spell coincided with this most scandalous of cases seemed to emphasise the heat in the crime of passion that the defendant, a thirty-something construction foreman named Bill Humphries, was accused of.
He hadn’t denied any of the evidence. The Crown Prosecutor, a bumptious, self-serving Colonial, had pressured and harried him, his wife, even his young son along with every other witness called in to explain their versions of the event. There was no point in contradicting it. So many people had known that which he had uncovered from the innocent mouth of twelve-year old Seth, as he calmly referred to Uncle Mick’s soft leather seats in the back of his stately Jaguar. As he stared at the flaking walls, he re-lived part of that fateful evening once more.
It had been just after dinner when Seth had announced that he was entering the Aquatic Club’s swimming gala. ‘I’m sure I will win because I get so much more practice than all the other boys!’ he had delightedly exclaimed.
‘How is that then?’ Bill had enquired, unsure of where he was heading, as an odd feeling of inexplicable unease rose from the pit of his stomach. ‘Why are you getting so much more practice in than the others?’
‘Well, pretty much every afternoon, Mum and Uncle Mick take me to the swimming pool and it’s really helped me to improve on everything- I swim each length so fast not even the sharks could catch me!’ Seth declared with shining eyes. He could see himself holding the swimming trophy aloft and his father smiling, his whole body swelling with pride at the imagined scene.
Bill shifted his gaze from the courtroom walls to the louvered glass, encased in mosquito meshing that, sadly, had several large holes in, rendering it inadequate for purpose. It reflected his own feelings perfectly. The vermillion mist descended over his mind’s eye once more and an unbidden growl escaped through his tightly clamped lips. How COULD she have betrayed him so? After all that they had been through together? And with Mick, of all people?
The warden glared sternly at Bill in his lonely dock. Clearly, something unpleasant was troubling his thoughts, but this was not the place to yield to his tortured memories. The look was insufficient to drag the defendant back to the present, but an almost imperceptible movement of his right hand to his side where the ominous baton was firmly ensconced did the trick. Bill took note and adjusted his demeanour instantly. He knew he was in trouble and had no wish to exacerbate the situation further. The blank stare restored, he shifted his buttocks minutely on the hard bench he had been parked upon for the last two hours. He had learned to mask his thoughts more than adequately during his incarceration at the hands of the Japanese, whilst held captive as a prisoner of war in Burma seventeen years previously and this was a walk in the park compared with that ordeal. He had already prepared himself for the worst anyway.
