She warily stood up and straightened her tunic. Time lurched to a momentary halt as she silently rehearsed her opening sentence.
‘Your Honour, it is true – David Shepherd was far from an Angel.’
David wondered if she should have rehearsed a moment longer.
‘It is possible that he may have broke one of the Holy Commandments.’
He suddenly wondered if he was allowed to make an objection against his own lawyer.
‘… and he wasn’t a particularly spiritual soul.’
He rubbed his temples. It seemed that the prosecution was to have an awfully easy day at the office.
‘… but as the defence will prove beyond any doubt, he is a good soul.’
Hallelujah.
‘A soul who was married for over 20 years. A soul that worked hard to provide for his family. As the prosecution itself admits, David Shepherd was not a violent soul. He was a loving soul. A caring soul. A generous soul.’
David watched the somewhat timid Olivia grow in stature as she spoke. She didn’t have the same natural charisma of Gabriel, but she had character. And as he’d always reminded Lucy as she grew up: character was important.
‘Your Honour, let us not forget that David Shepherd died as he lived.’
She then spun around to face Gabriel.
‘Protecting the innocent from the wicked’.
She returned to behind the bench.
‘And surely this act alone is not the nature of a soul that belongs in Hell, but rather one that should be embraced by the Kingdom of Heaven.’
David could have kissed her – save for the fact that it probably wouldn’t have been wise given that she’d just painted him as a loyal family man.
The Dominion gave a thoughtful nod and made a note.
‘The Court will take a few moments and then the prosecution may begin its case.’
Gabriel nodded curtly and opened his folder, running a slender manicured finger down a sheet of paper.
David leaned into Olivia nervously.
‘When do we make our case?’
‘We don’t.’
‘What?’
‘Every soul has a claim to Heaven, Mr Shepherd. You have something similar in your world. I believe you call it “the presumption of innocence”. We are required to simply discredit the prosecution’s case and by inference, your passage to Heaven will be assured.’
‘And how do we do that?’
‘By cross-examining the witness after the prosecution has finished their examination.’
‘What witness? I thought you said that there weren’t any witnesses in the Court of Saint Peter? They couldn’t be trusted to tell the truth, you said.’
She smiled.
‘Well there is always one witness.’
‘Who?’
But before Olivia could answer, the Dominion took off his spectacles and looked up at Gabriel.
‘And is the prosecution ready to call its witness?’
Gabriel stood up.
‘It is, Your Honour. The prosecution calls David James Shepherd to the stand.’
He didn’t know whether to be glad or upset. On one hand, he was quite relieved that a jaded ex-girlfriend wasn’t about to walk through the doors and testify to what an awful person he had been. But by the same token, he was far from relishing the prospect of being at the mercy of a demonic prosecutor examining his past indiscretions. He looked at Olivia for some kind of last-minute legal loophole that would excuse him from this entire mess altogether. Instead he received an expression from her that suggested any attempt at wasting the Dominion’s time was unwise.
He stood up and walked timidly across the courtroom – the squeal of his trainers accompanying his passage across the polished marble floor. Every eye was on him, particularly those of the Dominion. As he took the stand to the left of the bench, David felt those ancient eyes boring into him. Silent, but ever watchful. Ever judging. From the seat in the witness stand, Olivia looked very far away, whilst Gabriel’s menacing grin seemed much too close for comfort.
Ezekiel approached him, carrying a Bible. If it wasn’t the original document itself, it must have been a first edition, as it looked impossibly old. The Angel held it out in front of David. He slid his hand onto it, thinking that it almost seemed to be radiating heat.
‘Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth….’
The Archangel’s eyes locked onto David’s.
‘… so help you God?’
As someone that didn’t particularly worship God, David had always wondered if this ritual made any impact on those that weren’t overly religious. He found that being confronted by an eight foot tall, luminous Angel seemed to help.
‘I do.’
Ezekiel held David in his glare for a moment longer, before placing the Bible on the Dominion’s bench and resuming his post at the front of the courtroom. The formalities were out of the way, the stage had been set. There was nowhere left to hide.
And Gabriel knew it. He checked one last little fact, then snapped his folder shut and gave David a small smile of false reassurance. The type of smile that dentists often give their patients.
‘The prosecution draws the attention of the court to the sixth day of September in the year 1982. Do you remember that day, Monsieur Shepherd?’
‘I can’t say that I do.’
‘You were twelve years old at the time.’
David’s memory started to unfold. What possible commandments could a twelve-year-old boy contravene?
‘It was your first day of Year Seven at St John’s Middle School.’
Year Seven? The year when you’re finally the biggest fish in the pond. The year when you didn’t hate girls quite as much as you had the previous year, but still opted to not talk to them. An age where teachers tended to lie to you and tell you that your studies were now important.
‘Perhaps I can jog your memory, Monsieur Shepherd. Your Honour, please allow me to present Exhibit Alpha.’
Gabriel walked to his bench and opened a drawer. To David’s absolute amazement, he produced an object that didn’t quite belong in a place quite like this.
‘Do you know what this is, Monsieur Shepherd?’
‘Of course.’
A moment of silence. Gabriel raised his eyebrows expectantly.
‘Well?’
‘It’s a “Mars” bar.’
And suddenly David remembered with resounding clarity that day of the sixth of September 1982. And realised that he had indeed broken his first Commandment.
CHAPTER 5
The weather was hot – or as hot as London gets in Autumn. Returning to school was the first sign that normality was returning to London. It had been an eventful summer. The papers were still reporting on the arrival of Charles and Diana’s son, William, when a month later, the IRA bombed Hyde Park and massacred eleven people.
The boy walked down the cobble-stoned alley, wearing his school uniform with his tie loose and a bag swung over his shoulder. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lower lip. He always liked to have swiped his next cigarette before smoking his last. As he