Once the court was reseated after lunch, Lou came up to the stand. "The prosecution calls John Aherne." As an usher led Mr. Aherne to the witness stand John could see the terrible effect the case still had on him; he had lost weight and looked somewhat like a man condemned. John assumed Sherlock's warning that the defense would try to savage him on the stand weighed heavy in his mind.
Once he was sworn in, Lou asked him: "When did you move to London?"
"Almost a year and a half ago," Mr. Aherne replied in a strangely flat tone.
"Why did you choose to move here?"
"In Ireland I ran my own catering business out of my home. The money wasn't bad but it involved a lot of work. Since my wife had died a few years back this meant my children weren't given as much attention as I would have liked. A larger, London-based catering program offered me a job. The pay was good and a friend of mine in London had a flat to offer me. He is a landlord and usually lives on the ground floor of the building with his family, but his wife needed to travel abroad for two years. I'm renting it from him at a low rate while another friend manages the building. We'd never been able to afford a three bedroom flat otherwise. Now I have more time to spend with my children and we can buy a house outside of London when he returns."
"It sounds like your children are very important to you."
"They are." Mr. Aherne smiled and his love for them showed clearly on his face. "I got taken into care when I was young and my mother died when I was sixteen, so I have no family but them."
"You would consider your relationship with them close?"
"Absolutely. I always tell them I won't get angry with them if they tell me the truth."
"Your daughter said before she told you she had a hard time making friends. Can you tell us about that?"
Mr. Aherne obviously knew where this was leading, and his expression grew somber. "Moira's a shy girl, you understand. Her brother and sister are much bolder. We're in a new city, a new country really, and it's nothing like what she's used to. In March she told me that she still didn't really know any of her classmates at all, that they ignored her. I asked if she was being bullied and she said no. I thought all she needed was time. She did say she still played with Kieran at recess and that put me at ease."
"Was there a point where you noticed her behavior was starting to change?" Lou sounded as relaxed as he usually was, but that didn't stop Mr. Aherne's face from blanching.
"Not all at once," he said slowly. "When I look back on it it's all a lot easier to see."
"Tell us what you now know you saw first."
"Moira's always been very close to our bullmastiff, Rory. She loves animals and she was the one who was happiest about getting a dog. He sleeps in her room. She feeds him and brushes him and takes him on walks. A few weeks after our talk about making friends she began to take him to the park down the street every day. Usually they'd play there for a half hour or so, but it got to the point where they spent hours there, especially when there was no school. I asked her what she was doing there and she said she was just playing with Rory and taking him through his tricks. She taught him those tricks and was always very proud of that. I didn't like that she was spending so much time alone there, since this is the city and all, but she's old enough to go some places by herself. For a little while she seemed happier, and that made me feel better."
"When did you notice her mood had changed?"
"She started to spend more time alone in her room. Kieran and her have been inseparable since birth, but she wasn't playing with him at home any more."
"Did you bring this up with her?"
"Yes I did. I asked her if she felt all right and asked again about school. Bullies can be so vicious, especially with someone shy. She said she just felt like being by herself." He paused for a moment. "There were... nightmares. I should have known something was wrong when she woke up screaming and wouldn't tell me what was wrong. She said she'd had a bad dream. Even after her mother died I never heard anything like that."
"As time passed, did you notice any progression of those problems?"
"Yes." Mr. Aherne briefly rested his head on one of his hands. "She has a teddy bear, Brownie, that used to belong to her mother. It's always been around and she can't sleep without him, but usually he stays in her room. She started carrying him all over the flat, and even to school in her book bag. I told her she might get teased if anyone saw it, but she said she made sure no one did."
"What was her mood like?" asked Lou.
"Sad," said Mr. Aherne, a frown on his face. "Moira is shy but she's usually quite content. Around May she started having crying spells. Just crying uncontrollably for a few minutes every day. Nothing I said could make her stop. She still wouldn't tell me what was wrong. I keep telling myself now that I should have done something more, should have asked her more. I did ask if she wanted to talk to a doctor, but she screamed hysterically when I mentioned it."
"Why didn't you ask more?"
"I wondered if it was something she didn't feel comfortable speaking about with me. She's going to be a teenager in a few years, and we've had talks along that line but perhaps it was something she didn't think I'd understand. She said there was nothing wrong, though."
"In your own words, can you tell me what happened the night of Thursday, February 10?"
Mr. Aherne took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. After a long period of silence he told the court the same story he had told Lestrade last February. When he finished it he added: "I tried to think of a person that could have done it and I couldn't think of one."
"Did you make the connection between that and Moira's visits to the park?" said Lou.
"Not at that point, no. It's really a place for children to play so I didn't think about an adult going there."
"What went on while she was in hospital?"
"Several different people from Scotland Yard came to talk to her about what had happened. She always said that nothing had happened and she didn't know anyone who had hurt her. And on the first night, when I went to bring her brother and sister back home to get some sleep, she became hysterical and said that if I went home I'd die. That concerned me. I didn't think it was a real threat, but knowing my daughter felt I couldn't be safe in our home..." He wiped his eyes again. "It wasn't until Saturday that she said anything to anyone."
"Tell us about that."
"I had come over earlier to spend the day with Moira. After we'd eaten dinner a man who worked with the Yard came to talk to her. It wasn't much, but she seemed a lot more willing to speak to him than anyone else. When he left I asked her about him and she said that he didn't make it seem like she had to tell him everything 'or else.' I said the officers were only trying to help her, and she said they still seemed mean."
"When did she next speak to that man?"
"Thursday. She'd been out of hospital for a few days at that point. He came to our flat and talked to her in her room. I wasn't there, but I heard the interview the next day. It had been recorded."
"Did you ever talk to her about what she was saying to the police?" said Lou.
Mr. Aherne shook his head. "They said it might jeopardize the investigation, and if she brought it up herself we could talk but otherwise not to press the issue."
"In your own words can you tell me what happened on the night of Friday, February 18?"
After a pause and a deep intake of breath, Mr. Aherne told the same story he'd told Sherlock that very night. "You have to understand how angry I felt. My daughter was being threatened with my death. She was being attacked in her own bedroom. The one place where she should feel safe! I told the officers I'd sleep in her room with a knife if I had to and I meant it. I considered moving to a hotel, but the expense would have been far too much. In the end I just moved her bed to my room. Some nights she'd crawl into bed with me and our dog would get up there with her. I let her. She had some very good reasons to want to be close to me. I even started buying individual sugar packets. I just... a child of that age shouldn't know so much about the evils of the world." While he sounded angry when he explained his feelings, it had slowly drained out of him until he merely sounded sad.
"When did you next meet with the police?"
"The twenty-seventh. They said there had been an arrest and Moira had to pick someone out of a lineup."
"So you went down there with her?"
"Yes. Truthfully, I was terrified I'd see someone I knew from the neighborhood, or from work, or a hundred other places. Knowing the person beforehand would have been too much." His voice broke.
"Did you recognize any of them?" Lou said.
"No, thank God. Moira certainly did though; she froze once the lights came on and only pointed at someone when she seemed sure no one could see her."
"You saw who she said was her abuser?"
"Yes I did."
"Is this person in court today?"
"Yes."
"Can you point to them?" Lou cast his eyes towards the crowd. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Aherne pointed towards the dock where K sat. Lou nodded, seemingly satisfied. "How has your daughter been since this person was arrested?"
"Both better and worse."
"Can you tell us what you mean by that?"
"Well, she started seeing a therapist. He's been very helpful. She seems less anxious and isn't panicking once I'm out of her sight. There's still nightmares and crying jags, though. And she's started bringing up what that woman did to her on her own." Anger crept into his voice.
"You've been given permission by the police to discuss it with her, then?" Lou asked.
"If she brings it up on her own. And she does." He sounded even more angry than before.
"Tell me about what she's brought up."
"About a month ago she asked me if I was angry with her. I said I wasn't and asked her why. She said that I'd always said to not talk to people she didn't know and she had anyway. I told her then that she hadn't just walked up to a stranger and started talking to them, she'd just answered when that woman had talked to her. Then she said that she'd let her do things that she knew were wrong, and wasn't I mad with her for not telling me about it? I said then that that woman knew what she was doing was wrong too, and she was an adult. She was the one who's supposed to know better, not a little girl." John could see Mr. Aherne give an angry glance to the dock. "That was hard to hear. After all that's happened she still feels like the one who's done something wrong. I'd like to say we haven't had a conversation like that since, but there's been several just like that, I'm sorry to say."
Seemingly from nowhere, Lou produced a small collection of photographs. John took a deep breath as he realized what they were. "I'd like you to take a look at these photographs," he said as he held one in front of Mr. Aherne. "Do you recognize where this was taken?"
"Yes I do," Mr. Aherne softly replied.
"Where?"
"Moira's room." He took a deep breath.
"Do you recognize the girl in the photograph?"
"Yes. She's my Moira."
Lou then walked over to the jury stand and let them see the photograph. The widened eyes and gasps that resulted made it clear what was depicted in them. He walked back over to the witness stand and repeated the process for the next three photographs. Each time Mr. Aherne identified the person in them as his daughter and the place they were taken as her room. By the time the final one was shown, Mr. Aherne and several of the members of the jury had tears coming down their cheeks.
While Mr. Aherne wiped his eyes, Lou said: "No further questions," and he walked back to the prosecution bench.
Possibly because Lou and Susan appeared to be alternating positions, John expected Clark to step up to the stand. It came as a surprise that Harvey walked up there instead, looking like she was on a mission. "Are you ever planning to move back to Ireland?" she asked Mr. Aherne. Unlike when she had questioned Kieran, she did not attempt to soften her voice or sound anything other than accusing.
"Possibly, if I can get work for the branch there. Otherwise no." Mr. Aherne kept his voice level.
"When did your wife die?"
"Almost four years ago."
"What of?"
"A pulmonary embolism from her pregnancy. She hadn't had any symptoms until she collapsed at work and then it was too late." He sounded sad even remembering it.
"How did her family feel when you left the country?" Her highly accusing tone made it sound like he had abducted his children instead of just moving.
"Nora didn't have any family. She was found in a pub loo when she was an infant," Mr. Aherne explained.
"But someone must have wanted to adopt her." Harvey still sounded accusing.
"A family did, but it was held up and by that time they'd gone through a horrible separation and the agency wouldn't approve it. She was six then and after that she just got lost in the shuffle." It sounded like an explanation that Mr. Aherne had used countless times.
"Have you been on any dates since your wife died?" John couldn't tell if this was connected to Harvey's previous statements or if she had just changed tactics.
"No, none," Mr. Aherne replied. He sounded remarkably calm considering Sherlock had warned him about where this type of question would lead.
"I can't imagine no one has asked you. You're an attractive young man."
"Some women have. But right now my responsibility is to my children, and a woman who wants to date me won't necessarily feel the same way towards them. I can't say I'll be single the rest of my life, but right now I see no need to change it."
"You seem concerned about who spends time with your children, but you've testified you let your nine year old daughter walk a dog by herself."
"Well, a child that age needs some freedom. You can't wrap them in cotton wool their whole lives. And Rory is bigger than she is. I never considered that whoever wanted to harm her wouldn't use force to do it." He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes with his hand.
"The dog's bigger than your daughter and you let her walk him alone?" Once again, Harvey sounded angrier than the statement would indicate, as if he had confessed to making his daughter work in a sweatshop.
"He doesn't pull on the lead. He is very well-behaved. I made sure of that before I let Moira walk him by herself."
"Your flat only has three bedrooms?" Harvey asked, in one of her usual abrupt subject changes.
"Yes it does."
"But your older daughter has a room by herself. Don't tell me the other two share a room."
Mr. Aherne actually laughed, although it seemed driven by nerves. "No, they don't. Dierdre's got the sewing room as her room. It's tiny but she doesn't mind at all. She'd rather play where everyone else is anyway. Moira likes to be by herself at times."
"So you're the primary caretaker for your children?"
"Yes. As I said we have no relatives."
"You do everything for them?"
"Not everything, of course. As much as needs to be done that they can't do themselves."
"Have you seen your children without clothing?"
Mr. Aherne's eyes widened, and he clearly could tell where this was going. "Of course. I think it'd be impossible to have not when you've got three children, correct?"
"Do any of them still ask for assistance when bathing?"
"Two ten year olds and a six and a half year old? Not in years."
"Does that mean you haven't seen them without clothing in years?"
"Not quite that long, but I respect their privacy."
Harvey briefly made a face. "Do you think that you and your daughter have a close relationship?"
"Yes, we do. I believe so," he clarified.
"Do you think it was unusual that she wouldn't reveal the cause of her distress to you, especially since you seemed so aware of it?" As she spoke she moved closer to the stand.
"Moira's not a talker. She's not one to chatter about what she did all day, like her sister does. I was concerned that her distress was so extended and she never opened up about it, but at first it didn't seem that odd."
"You said before that you told your children that they won't get in trouble if they don't lie to you. Does that mean you don't discipline them?" She made it sound like he let his children run amok.
"Of course I discipline them." Mr. Aherne sounded offended. "I don't do that by yelling and screaming or make it so they're afraid to tell me the truth about something. It's not needed. Kieran and Moira sometimes tease Dierdre and telling them to stop is usually enough. If that doesn't work I can just take away time with the telly or pudding. That never fails."
"On the day that you took her to A&E, was there anything else going on at home, or was this an ordinary day?" Harvey now stood directly in front of him, looking him square in the eye.
"It was really ordinary. Moira and I had a bit of a row when she got home from school - she wanted to put on a dirty sweatsuit and I told her no. She yelled that she hated me and stormed out the door with Rory. When she came back she said she was sorry and that she didn't hate me, and I said I knew that. Other than that it was typical."
"When you found out in hospital what the problem was, how did you feel?"
"Shocked at first. It seemed so hard to believe - not that it could happen to one of my children, but that it was a secret for so long. Then Moira told me she didn't know who had done it. I thought she might be telling the truth, but the officers said that was unlikely."
"Did they discuss taking your children into care?"
"Some of the social service workers did, since they weren't sure who was responsible."
"How did you feel about that?"
"I didn't want them to go into care at all, but I said if they really felt that was the only way to protect her I'd let them go, which was true. My daughter's safety was the most important thing. Eventually they decided that since it clearly wasn't someone in the home she'd feel more secure there. I was told to keep an eye on her and I planned on doing that. No more walking the dog by herself."
"After you left her there, when you came back the next day, did she act any differently?"
"I'd brought some books and a picture of our family, which she was happy to get, but she did seem more anxious. Jumped every time someone came in."
"She refused to talk to the investigators, right?"
"She didn't refuse to talk to them. She just said she didn't know who'd hurt her," Mr. Aherne corrected.
"But she did talk to the man Sherlock Holmes, right?"
"Eventually, yes."
"She told him she didn't know as well?"
He shook his head. "No. The first time he talked to her, when she was still in hospital, he didn't even bring the subject up. I think that was what made her trust him."
"So she told him who was hurting her? Just like that?"
"No. He figured out that she was afraid of retaliation from her abuser and let her tell him what happened without saying anything about the person."
"When did she talk to him again?"
"The night our flat was broken into. He came over with the Yarders and talked with her."
"Do you think it's unusual that this man suddenly was able to make her talk about her ordeal?"
"No, for a lot of reasons. All the officers they sent in to talk to her were women. The one time they did send a man in to talk to her, he was a doctor, which wasn't any better."
Harvey looked frustrated. "Did you know that Mr. Holmes had been previously associated with who your daughter had picked out of the lineup?"
"Not until today, no," he replied.
"Do you think he might have influenced her to pick a particular person out?" John could see Clark in the defense station make some sort of motion with his hands.
"Of course not. I was there and she didn't even look in his direction before doing so."
This appeared to be enough for Harvey to throw in the towel. "No further questions," she said.
As she walked back to the bench, Judge Foster slammed down his gavel. "The time is now six in the evening and the court is dismissed for the day. We shall begin session tomorrow at nine AM."
John kept himself seated as the hordes of people filed out of the room, not wanting to get caught in the crush of the crowd. When almost everyone had left he stood to leave. Before he could walk out Lou filed past him. "Not as hard as I thought it would be," he said, motioning for John to follow him. "I tried to bring out Mr. Aherne's caring nature as much as I could; it'd be a lot harder to savage him on the stand that way." John fell into step with them and they went out into the main corridor.
"Are all the victims testifying?" John asked. They went through the doors and out into the city.
"Most of them. Victim Four and Victim Five won't be testifying for long, for different reasons, and Victims Six and Eight will be testifying on behalf of their siblings. Victim Fourteen or Fifteen will testify, but not both of them. Victim Eleven has limited English skills, so I'm not sure how much we'll get there." He paused for a moment. "Wait. Are you asking when we want Victim Three to testify?"
"It'd be nice to know," John admitted.
"Don't worry, he'll be the last one."
"Because you haven't met him?"
"No, because he's not part of the charges, just to indicate a pattern of behavior. After he's testified we'll bring in the investigators and some others. It'll be a while in any case. Victim One's going to be testifying next." Lou motioned for a cab. When one pulled up to the curb he said "I'll see you tomorrow," as he climbed in. John hailed a separate cab and rode silently back home. He considered picking up some takeaway, but there was enough food in the flat to eat now, and he wanted to get home as quickly as possible. He needed to see how Sherlock had done with all the trial coverage. Knowing him, he'd have picked up every newspaper in the city and watched every broadcast about it online.
Mrs. Hudson was there to greet him as he came in through the door. "I'm so glad you're home," she said. "We've had a parade of those homeless people in and out all day - they've all brought him newspapers - and the Rodgers boy arrived just after you left and only went when the trial was over." She didn't mention the effect the trial was having on Sherlock; there was no need.
"I'll see how he's doing," John said before heading up the stairs. He expected to find Sherlock on the couch with the television blaring and that in fact turned out to be the case. Not surprisingly, the news was on, even though it only discussed some minor political scandal. Sherlock was leaning on Hamish and didn't appear to be paying attention.
"Moira and her brother both did very well on the stand," John said as he walked to the refrigerator. He opened it and rummaged for something he could heat up for supper. Finding a carton of leftover Indian food, he stuck it in the microwave. "Mr. Aherne did well too; you could tell that the defense wasn't getting what they wanted out of him."
Sherlock looked over at him, then back to the television. John took that as a sign that he didn't want to talk about it and decided it might be best to leave him alone that evening. He sat down in his chair with his supper, ate it, and then read a novel he had started a few days ago. When he finished it was nearly eleven and Sherlock was still staring at the television screen. "Are you coming to bed?" John asked, hoping this wouldn't be one of those evenings where he paced all night long.
Sherlock said nothing, but stood up with Hamish in his arms and went up the stairs. John got dressed for bed in his own room, thinking that Sherlock needed the extra privacy more than ever, and when he went back down Sherlock had already curled himself around Hamish under the covers.
The trial must have been more draining than John had thought, because as soon as his head hit the pillow he fell asleep. He likely would have slept until morning without waking if he hadn't been awoken by an elbow to the ribs. At first he just thought that Sherlock was twisting around in his sleep, but as soon as he was fully aware of what was going on he was hit by a thrashing arm.
The next thing he knew he was being pushed out of bed. He quickly got to his feet and looked down at Sherlock, who seemed awake but was clearly not seeing what was going on around him. Before John could do anything else, Sherlock started to scream.