THE JURY IS OUT

Statement 1.
Being a first floor flat, I could see that there was no escape other than the door we had walked in which was at the top of a steep flight of stairs. The worn grey carpet on the stairs abruptly ended at the entrance. Inside, the polished parquet was interspersed with rugs. They were the kind you brought back from a holiday in Turkey or Morocco. A couple of big potted plants sat in the opposite two corners of the room, on each side of the wide bay windows.

As I put the heavy Samsonite case down, I heard her calling out, “Come Kitty, Mummy’s home.”
I glanced up to see her pick up the furry ball that revealed itself to be a Maltese cat.
“My mother had her while I was away. I must have just missed her. Isn’t she gorgeous?” she said as she turned back to face me.
“My daughter has one just like her,” I said. Then awkwardly, “I’d better get back to the car. I’m on a yellow line.”
“Silly me! I’m sorry, I forgot.” She rummaged in her bag.
Head bent, I could see the dark roots of her hair contrast with the pale blond mane flowing onto her shoulders. She got out a 20 pound note. “Please keep the change and thank you so much.”

I don’t know what came over me as I took the bill from her. I grabbed her hand quite forcefully, noting how perfectly manicured it was. The pearly nail polish contrasted with the light tan she had. She tried to push me away with her other hand which I then raised away from her. For a moment I thought I caught a look of panic in her green eyes before I felt searing pain hit me.

She had kneed me in the groin and I reflexively let go of her. I fell onto the ground moaning and hit my head on the open door. Suddenly I was filled with rage and with one hand still protectively over my crotch, I reached out for her right leg. Fast as lightening, she stepped back and brought down her stiletto bang in the centre of my hand. I recoiled, screaming out and tried to free myself.

“You pervert! I’m calling the police,” I heard her yell.
When she lifted her foot, I shifted backward, still on my bottom. I had one thought in mind. RUN. I saw the door coming at me as she banged it shut and turned the lock. I scrambled to my feet but then tripped on a hole in the worn carpet and tumbled down.

When the police and ambulance arrived, I was dead. They drove me away as the parking attendant put a ticket on the windscreen of my minicab.

Statement 2.
I had just returned from a holiday in India. As usual, I had bought more things than I should have from the exotic markets and my case was heavy with sarees I intended to use as bedspreads and wall hangings. I had also indulged in buying several sculptures and knickknacks. I thought it kind of the minicab driver to help me carry the case up. He looked kind, friendly. He was well groomed, cleanly shaven and I noticed a wedding ring. I was giving him a generous tip, a 20 pound note for a 14 pound ride when he attacked me.

It all happened so fast. I didn’t see it coming. I have used that minicab firm on many occasions and had never had any problems. They are right next door to the station. Anyway, as I was saying, as I handed him the money, he grabbed my hand. I tried to push him away with the other hand which he then got hold of as well. I saw my life flash by. I thought, he is going to rape you and kill you. My instinct just took over and I kicked him as hard as I could in the groin. When he tried to reach for my foot I stepped back and pinned him down with the heel. I think I was screaming and shouting as he edged away. I shut the door, turned the lock and run to the phone to call the police. And that is when I heard crashing sounds, cries and a thud. Then everything went silent. I don’t remember exactly what I said to the police on the phone. In a dazed state, I tiptoed to the door and looked through the spy hole. Nothing. Through the keyhole. Nothing.

When the sirens approached, I gingerly unlocked the door. A policeman at the bottom of the stairs was checking the man for a pulse.
“Rodney, get the ambulance,” he called out to his colleague who was walking towards the door. “He’s dead.”

I was taken to the police station for questioning as a couple of neighbours and passersby gawked at the scene.
“There’s a cat upstairs,” I was shouting hysterically. “Kitty is upstairs.”