“And did you go to great lengths to expose them, Miss Harris?”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘great lengths,’” Una states, her voice hard.
“Did you hack into his private email account?”
“No.”
“Thank you. That will be all, Miss Harris.”
Una leaves the witness stand and returns to her seat, while Dad picks up a folder and offers it to the judge. “Here I present records of Victor Nugent’s personal email account being accessed from Una Harris’ home computer in 2004. The emails accessed are also included, alongside a copy of the article Miss Harris published in The Daily Post several days later. As you can see, information from these emails has been used, almost verbatim, in the article.”
I seriously have no words. I really wish I had been working with Dad on this case instead of with Will these past few months, because seriously, I don’t think I can take any more surprises.
The next few days are absolute madness. All across the country, people are in an uproar over The Daily Post, and every television channel, radio station, and newspaper is calling for the publication to be shut down. Una has been branded a devil and Brian the one who gave her a platform to work from.
The biggest surprise, though, is still to come. And even though there isn’t any magic involved, I like to think of it as Jay’s prestige. His big finish. And, inarguably, the final nail in the dual coffin of Una Harris and Brian Scott.
Twenty-Eight
It’s the second-to-last day of the trial. Tomorrow the jury will decide on a verdict. I’m fairly confident that Jay is going to get some serious compensation, but there’s always the chance that things could change. Despite all of the evidence brought forward against them, Brian and Una’s legal team have still managed to salvage some of the case.
Dad is to call forward one more witness. Reporters had shown up at our house this morning, looking for statements from Dad, so we were all in a fluster to get to court on time. By contrast, Jay is cool as a cucumber. He’s wearing my favourite suit, the light grey one, and looks as handsome as ever.
There’s a peace about him, like the turmoil inside his head is all coming to a conclusion.
I’m so busy admiring his gorgeous profile that I don’t listen when Dad calls his final witness. There are shocked gasps from those in the gallery, and the men and women in the jury. Brian is getting up from his seat, running a hand through his greying hair and looking entirely discombobulated, while Una has gone pale as a ghost, her expression distraught.
“What the hell’s going on?” I ask Will, who’s sitting beside me.
“Haven’t you been listening?” he whispers animatedly. “David Murphy is the witness.”
“Huh?”
“David Murphy. Jay’s volunteer. The one Una reported had died of a heart attack.”
I swear to God, it really is too early in the morning, because my brain refuses to comprehend what he’s telling me.
“I don’t understand.”
“Christ, Matilda. Didn’t Hugh tell you?”
“No. He and Jay have actually been very tight-lipped about the particulars of the case,” I say somewhat shakily. “David Murphy is alive?”
“Yes!” says Will excitedly.
I don’t understand how this can be possible. I mean, Una might be underhanded, but I didn’t think she could be this dumb. She must have had some kind of proof of the man’s death before she decided to break her story, right? And Jay! My God. He’s been playing everyone this entire time, never once correcting anyone when they spoke of David’s heart attack.
This is fucked up. This is…amazing.
I can’t believe the sneaky, clever, trickster bastard managed to pull this off.
And now I have no words.
Finally, I manage to pull myself together enough to become aware of the fact that all hell has broken loose. Una is standing up and yelling at Jay, who’s sitting back calmly in his chair, one sardonic eyebrow raised and the ghost of a satisfied smile on his mouth.
“This is outrageous. The man sitting in the witness box cannot be David Murphy. I held his death certificate in my own two hands!” Her previously pale complexion has now turned red with fury as she points her finger at Jay.
The judge slams his gavel down hard and calls for Una to contain herself.
“Are you sure about that, Una?” Jay asks casually, flicking a coin through his fingers with expert precision. “David Murphy is a pretty common name in this country. Perhaps you were confusing him with somebody else.”
“I am not confused. I saw it! You did this. You knew all along that he wasn’t dead.”