Free Gallowglass by Gordon Ferris Page A

sympathetically. Apparently.
    ‘I am well aware of Mr Brodie’s exploits in this matter. He wrote vividly about them and he is to be congratulated on his endeavours. However, brave deeds by themselves do not exonerate anyone from a criminal charge.’
    ‘That’s as may be, my lord. But Mr Brodie’s war record and his public profile are such that there is a negligible chance of his absconding before a trial. We would even accept a requirement for his reporting weekly to a police station.’
    The prosecutor pounced. ‘My lord, the charges are so serious as to make bail almost unseemly. The public will neither accept nor understand how someone accused of such terrible crimes could be allowed to walk the streets. Particularly as Lady Gibson herself – poor lady – has made a sworn statement which completely contradicts the defendant’s version of events. This leaves her open to possible harassment by the accused if he were out on bail. We therefore request that the defendant be remanded in custody pending trial.’
    The Sheriff was nodding again. Shit! I was going to be banged up for months while awaiting trial! I couldn’t do this. I’d go mad.
    ‘My lord?’ All eyes turned to the body of the court. Sam was on her feet.
    The Sheriff nodded to her. ‘Miss Campbell, I believe?’
    ‘Yes, my lord. I ask you to excuse my addressing you from the body of the court but I have something material to contribute.’
    The prosecutor was on his feet. ‘My lord, this is completely irregular…’
    The Sheriff raised a hand. ‘I know, I know. This whole case is. I’m sure Advocate Samantha Campbell would not presume to waste the court’s time unless she had something of substance to bring to the attention of the court. Miss Campbell?’
    Sam took a deep breath. ‘May I approach, my lord?’ She held out a piece of paper.
    The Sheriff beckoned her forward and took the piece of paper. Sam stood back and spoke.
    ‘As you will see, my lord, this is a letter couriered from London late yesterday evening. You will be glad, I am sure, thatthis court is cleared to the public. The letter is from the Sir Percy Sillitoe, head of a particular Government department.’
    My heart lightened. Brilliant, Sam. She’d never even mentioned it to me; it was a card only to be played in extremis . Then my stomach lurched; extremis was exactly where we were.
    The Sheriff read it. ‘It would appear so.’
    Sam continued: ‘I would add that the information contained in the letter – indeed even to acknowledge the existence of Sir Percy and his department – must go no further than the personnel in this court.’ She looked round the court officials to make certain they had understood and felt bound by what she was saying. She went on.
    ‘This letter tells the court that Mr Brodie – or rather, Lieutenant Colonel Douglas Brodie – is a serving member of His Majesty’s Security Service.’
    Both Dalziel and the prosecutor stepped forward and read the letter in turn. The prosecutor was first to react.
    ‘My lord, this revelation is entirely irrelevant to these charges. In the same way that Mr – Lieutenant Colonel – Brodie’s distinguished war record is irrelevant. Perhaps it makes the accusations all the more tragic, but it does not nullify them.’
    The Sheriff thought for a long moment while I held my breath.
    ‘I’m afraid I agree, Miss Campbell. Unless you have anything to add, simply being a senior member of the intelligence services is not material.’
    ‘My lord, I accept that trial is the only way forward to resolve this complicated matter, but my point is to underpin the case for bail. Colonel Brodie is hardly likely to attempt to flee the country. His good name is at stake and he has the personal backing of Sir Percy Sillitoe who, I would remind the court, is a former chief constable of this city.’
    For a second, I thought she’d won, but the Sheriff, after a further mulling, shook his head.
    ‘It is a powerful argument,