Although he hadn't eaten any lunch, John didn't feel the slightest bit hungry when he walked back into the courtroom. Jennifer was already seated in the witness box, her doll still tucked under one arm. Even the buffalo averted their eyes from her as they came in. Only when the prosecution and the defense were both seated did most of the crowd look at her again.

John figured that if the defense was simply alternating, Harvey would cross-examine Jennifer. On the other hand, Harvey had already been established to be hard-nosed, and from what he had seen she wasn't likely to turn that off. His speculation ended when Clark walked up to the stand again. He looked anxious, almost like he'd never questioned a child of that age. John told himself that he probably hadn't. "Hello, Jennifer," he said in a stiff tone.

"Hi," she cheerfully responded, apparently unaware of Clark's unease.

"How are you today?"

"Good."

"I just want to ask you a few questions, okay?"

"Okay."

"How long did you live with Jane and Frank?"

"A while. It was winter when I started there and spring when they let Daddy take me home."

"Did they ever tell you why you were staying with them?"

"They said they just wanted to make sure I was okay and I wasn't getting hurt."

"Did they ever ask you about being hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ever tell them what you told us about that room before?" Clark said "that room" in a way that left it obvious what he was omitting from the sentence.

"No."

"Why not?"

"She said not to."

"Who's she?"

"The one who took me to the room. Her."

"Did you tell your daddy?"

"No."

"Did you ask your mummy to not have her come anymore?"

"No."

"Did you ever tell Jane and Frank anything at all?"

"They asked about Mummy and Daddy. What it was like when I was home with them." Jennifer shifted her doll from under one arm to sitting in her lap.

"What did you tell them about that?"

"Daddy's always nice to me even when he makes me eat my vegetables. Mummy didn't make me do that but she was nice too, except she slept a lot." John guessed the reason Debra Bena slept a lot was because of her drug addiction. He did feel relieved that apparently the drugs hadn't turned her violent or horribly neglectful, so Jennifer's memories of her would be positive. Of course there was still the horrible shadow of what she'd agreed to in exchange for the drug money.

"Did they ever ask you about why you went to the hospital that day?"

"Sometimes."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them I said something that made Daddy upset." For the first time, she looked away.

"And that was all?"

"Not all of it."

"What else did you say?" Clark took a step towards the stand.

"Daddy didn't have friends over but Mummy did. Sometimes they yelled at each other."

"Your mother and father?"

"No, Mummy and her friends," Jennifer firmly replied.

"Can you tell me what her friends were like?"

"I wasn't supposed to talk to them much. I had to stay in my room when they came. Except when She would take me to the fucking room."

Clark made a face at her last comment. "But you never said to your mummy or daddy what was going on there?"

She shook her head. "No."

"How do you know that that woman paid your mother a lot of money?"

"She said so."

"Your mother or the woman?"

"She said Mummy let me come with Her because She gave her lots of money."

"No further questions," Clark said with a sigh. He went back to sit with Harvey. From the gestures and facial expressions John could see, it was obvious they were arguing about something. Neither Lou nor Susan went up to the stand; they simply looked on with amusement until the argument ended.

Once the argument was over, Susan strolled up to the stand and said: "The prosecution calls Debra Bena." The usher then lead in a thin woman in a new-looking dress. She had short brown hair and an expression of grim determination on her face. Even if John hadn't known beforehand she'd been in prison, it would have been obvious from her appearance and demeanor.

"Hello, Mrs. Bena," Susan began.

"Hello," she replied in a croaking whisper.

"How are you?"

"All right," she tonelessly said.

"Where did you come from today to get here?"

"Jail," Mrs. Bena said flatly. A few people in the crowd murmured, but there wasn't a lot of shock over it.

"What were you sentenced for?"

"Drug possession."

"Was your daughter living with you at the time?"

"No. She'd been taken into care by then."

"Was she in your care when she was placed in foster care?"

"Me and Michael - that's her father - shared time with her. When Jennifer got taken in it was his week."

"When did you hear about this?"

"The day it happened. Michael rang me to say he'd taken Jennifer to hospital, and later on he rang again and said they were going to take her into care." She didn't seem any more relaxed, but her voice had become more even and less of a croak.

"Did he say why?" Susan maintained her usual calm.

"All he said at first was that she'd been hurt. Social services rang me a little later and told me more."

"What did they tell you?"

"That they suspected she'd been sexually abused." Mrs. Bena looked away.

"How did you respond to that?"

"I told them I couldn't think of someone who could have done it."

"Was that true?" As Susan spoke Mrs. Bena turned to face her again.

"No."

"Did you say anything else to them?"

"They did say the doctor had written down Michael may have done it. I told them right away I didn't think he could do something like that, and I did ask if Jennifer had said something about that. The person who rang me said that she hadn't said anything about it at all."

"You said that you weren't telling the truth when you couldn't think of someone who had done it. Who did you think had done it?"

"I knew who'd done it," Mrs. Bena replied. Her voice wavered, and John half expected her to turn away, but she continued to look out at the courtroom.

"Who?"

"The doctor who gave me the money."

"Explain that," Susan said evenly.

John sat up straighter as Mrs. Bena began to speak. "Michael and I separated because he didn't approve of my drug use. You see, after Jennifer was born I felt awful and I wasn't working. It didn't seem to lift up at all, until almost a year after she was born. A friend of mine gave me something she said would help me feel better. MDMA, but I didn't know that then. It did make me feel better, and at first I could get out of bed again and take care of my daughter. Some of my friends came over again, and they all were using too, and before I knew it I was caught up in using whenever I could. Michael came home to find me out of it too many times and he left and took Jennifer with him. We went to court and we each got her alternating weeks. I was happy he wasn't starting a row with me every evening. But since he had been the one that was working I was left with no money for anything. I got on benefit but so many things ate that up I had nothing left over for the drugs. You have to understand that back then I would have chosen the drugs over my daughter; there was no contest. Then one day I was at the supermarket and I didn't have enough for groceries. This woman behind me took her card and paid for it with her own groceries, and she asked if I lived nearby. I said I did and we left together. She asked me how old my children were. I always bought a lot of food Jennifer liked, spaghetti hoops and things like that, because I did - do - love her, and I suppose she guessed from my shopping. I told her that Jennifer was three, and showed her a picture I carried with me of her. I said she wasn't at my flat, because she was with her father. We talked about the separation and once we got to my flat she came upstairs with me. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn't going on about how much I owed them. Eventually the conversation came around to money. I said it was hard to get by, and she first asked me how much Michael gave me. I said none, because he wasn't making a lot then and he probably spent more on Jennifer than I did." She paused to look at Susan, as if she needed permission to finish. "I told her I was on benefit, and she asked me if there was anything I had trouble buying. It sounds hard to believe, but I really did say, 'Crack.' I wasn't thinking clearly, and all of my stuff was gone so I'd been looking for a few days. She looked at me and then said I looked like I was coming off something. Then she said that she had a lot of money, and would be willing to help me. All I'd have to do is let her spend time with Jennifer, an hour or two at most. For that I'd get two hundred pounds for every hour. She didn't actually say what she and Jennifer would do for that time, but she said, 'She's a good-looking girl,' when she explained it and I knew what she meant from the look on her face. Hungry-looking. All I could think of was how much easier my life would be with the money and I said yes."

Susan broke in with: "How did she react to that?"

"She gave me her mobile number and said we could discuss the rest later. She put a few twenty-pound notes on the table and left."

"When did she contact you?"

"The next week, when I had Jennifer with me again."

"And she took Jennifer for a period of time?"

"Yes."

"Did you say anything to Jennifer about the visits?"

"I told her to be good, but that was about it."

"Did Jennifer ever say anything about them?"

"Sometimes when she came back she'd be singing that children's rhyme. 'Ride a cock-horse to Banbury cross...' Other times she'd fall asleep as soon as she got through the door. She never said anything about what went on though. She did call where she went 'the fucking room' a few times but never explained why."

"How long did this go on for?"

"A few months."

"And you never asked the woman what she and Jennifer were doing on those visits?"

"No. She didn't even give me her first name. She called herself Mrs. Williams. Jennifer once called her 'the doctor lady.' I'd give her Jennifer and she'd give me the money."

"This only stopped when she went into care?"

"Yes."

"When did you get charged with possession?"

"About a month later. I had gone to the house of one of my suppliers and there was a raid."

"How did that turn out?"

"I pled guilty," Mrs. Bena said, her voice becoming stronger. "I'd done it and I knew I had done it. Nothing else to do, really. I got three years." She looked directly at the audience. "When I got in there I had to go to a drug program. Part of the routine. Michael wrote me several times. He was seeing Jennifer twice a week and was doing all those things to get her back. I was happy for that, really, because Michael's a good man."

"What happened when he did regain custody of Jennifer?"

"He still wrote once or twice. The last time he wrote he said they were moving to Manchester." She paused. "While I was in prison I saw a news broadcast about someone being arrested for sex crimes, and as soon as I saw the picture I knew it was that Mrs. Williams."

"Why did you decide to tell all this to the prosecution?"

"When I went to the drug program at first I was just pretending to listen. But every now and then this psychiatrist came in, and she sat down and gave me some tests once. Said that I was depressed and got put on some medicine. After that I started to pay attention. But when I saw her on the news I knew I needed to come clean."

"Can you identify this woman who you saw?"

"Yes."

"Is she in this courtroom now?"

"Yes."

"Can you point to her?" Mrs. Bena pointed directly at K in the dock.

"That's who called herself Mrs. Williams," Mrs. Bena added when she put her hand down.

"No further questions," Susan said. She walked to the prosecution's table.

Harvey stepped forward as soon as Susan had sat down and stood in front of Mrs. Bena. "Hello," Harvey said coldly, not bothering to address her by name.

"Hello," Mrs. Bena replied.

"You say you met someone in a supermarket that just happened to help you with your groceries and came home with you." John thought that it was amazing (in an awful way) that Harvey could make anything sound sinister or absurd if she said it the right way.

"Yes."

"And you told this stranger that you needed money for drugs."

"Not intentionally."

"Is that really something that would just slip out?"

"When it's all that's on your mind, yes it would."

"How long is the remainder of your sentence?" Harvey asked in one of her typical abrupt subject changes.

"I don't know. I haven't been sentenced for solicitation yet."

"You obtained drug money that way?"

"Yes. I just told Mrs. Glenn all about that."

"So the charges are not in regard to yourself?"

"No, they're not." Mrs. Bena gave her an irritated glance.

"And there's no trial upcoming?"

"I pled guilty. I knew I was guilty. Just like before."

"This woman never told you her first name, did she?"

"No."

"Or anything about herself?"

"No."

"You said before that she never said what she wanted to spend time with your daughter for."

"No, she didn't."

"Why then did you make the assumption that it was of a sexual nature?"

"Sometimes she would come back with no pants on, or asleep in the middle of the afternoon. She also called the place she was taken 'the fucking room' and once she even asked me if I'd fuck her. Where does a child learn that? I didn't even have a TV license then," Mrs. Bena shot back.

"You said you love your daughter." Harvey sounded low and mocking.

"I do."

"So you love your daughter, but not enough to prevent her from being prostituted out?" Harvey seemed more furious than she had ever been before. John wondered silently if that was because Mrs. Bena was such a good witness or because even Harvey found her crime appalling.

"When you are addicted, the drugs always come first." Mrs. Bena's voice remained surprisingly calm. "I told myself she was only three and wouldn't be able to remember it later anyway."

Harvey looked disappointed at Mrs. Bena's calm. "This woman used an alias, correct?"

"I assume so. Even when I was stoned out of my mind I didn't think Mrs. Williams was her real name."

"Did she disguise her appearance?"

"Not in any significant way, I don't think."

"Even when your daughter talked about this, did she ever say who was doing something to her?" Harvey gave a slight shake of her head.

"No."

"So this woman, even if you've identified her correctly, could be not doing anything but delivering her?" Harvey smiled, like Mrs. Bena was caught in a trap.

"She never said anything about anyone else."

"But she did mention 'the doctor lady', correct?"

"Yes, but she also made it clear 'the doctor lady' was the same one that picked her up."

Harvey deflated like a balloon. "No further questions," she said with a sigh.

John assumed the court would recess for the day, but to his surprise Lou came up to the stand. "Is there anything you would say to Jennifer if she was in front of you now?"

Mrs. Bena hung her head. "That hopefully some day she'll find it in herself to forgive me."

Judge Foster then 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." He said it the same way every time, John noticed, like he felt better following a script. The audience seemed to want to get away faster than usual, and went out the doors in record time.

John sat there until the others were gone, including the prosecution, and then slipped out the door himself. As soon as he got into the hall, he saw Jennifer and her father walking down towards the exit. Jennifer was chattering to him about the hotel they were staying in and about how much of the city they could see from the windows. It was a strangely uplifting sight. K had apparently not squeezed all the joy out of her as with some of the others.

Since everyone else had already left, there was no crowd waiting for cabs, and in a few minutes he was back on his way home again. As John ascended the stairs to their flat he smelled a faint bleach odor. He hoped it meant that Sherlock had felt well enough to try some sort of experiment. The very thought that an experiment was now a good sign made him laugh. He opened the door and walked in. Sherlock sat curled up in his chair, Hamish in his lap, watching the news. The announcer was saying something about strife in the EU; the trial wasn't mentioned.

"What's the bleach for?" John asked as he took off his coat and sat down.

"Wanted to try something with some plumbing pipe. Didn't work out right, though." He sounded halfway muted.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"Chinese is in the fridge." This seemed so unlike him that John got up to check it, and found that there were indeed several takeaway containers.

"Thank you," he said. Sherlock looked at him strangely, but didn't say anything.

Other than opening a window to get rid of the bleach smell, nothing else happened that evening. They both watched telly silently until around ten, then went to bed. John, however, did not fail to notice Sherlock went out of his way to position Hamish to make sure John didn't touch him in his sleep.