‘Secondly, the case you are to try, as you have heard, is an allegation of rape. Experience in these courts shows there is a risk of stereotypes and assumptions being made about sexual behaviour and reactions to non-consensual sexual conduct. I would ask you to put out of your mind any such stereotypes or assumptions you might have. In particular you should bear in mind that there is no one classic response to the trauma of a serious sexual assault. Some may complain immediately whilst others feel shame and shock and may not complain for some time. A late complaint does not mean it is a false complaint.’
What did that direction mean? Cassie thought. What stereotypes did jurors have, and what assumptions would they make? Surely all they could do or would do was think about their own sexual experiences. Just as she did.
Chapter 16
The entry bell sounded twice as Cassie pulled the cork out of a bottle of Australian chardonnay. She went to the phone and pressed it. ‘It’s James,’ said the voice over the intercom.
‘Come up, top floor.’ Cassie pushed the button to release the door catch and opened the door to her flat. She heard the sound of heavy footsteps dashing up the stairs as she went to the kitchen, then James was asking her how many steps there were.
‘Only forty-two. Will a glass of wine help you get your breath back?’ she said as she returned to the living room carrying two wine glasses. She sniffed the golden coloured liquid and said, ‘It’s a bit over-oaked for my taste, but tell me what you think. It should be ok.’
Cassie watched James as he held the glass to his nose and inhaled the scent of the contents, before taking a mouthful. ‘I like this,’ he said, then took another sip of the wine. ‘Nice place. How long have you lived here?’
She saw his eyes flick over her and the thought crossed her mind that she should have worn something more flattering than an old pair of jeans and a faded T-shirt, before dismissing the idea. This wasn’t a social visit, they were here to work; nevertheless, she answered his question. ‘About ten years. Prices weren’t quite as steep as they are now, and it was easier to get a mortgage. Anyway, let’s play this DVD.’ She motioned James to sit down on a chair facing the television, and then she put the disc into the player, walked back to the green velvet settee and sat down.
‘Ok. I don’t know how much of the recording we’ve been sent. Montgomery says he turned it off when he went back into the shop to call the police. It records about eight hours before the machine wipes the disc and re-uses it.’ She pushed the play button on the remote and the screen came to life. On the lower right-hand side, the time was shown as fifteen thirty-three.
Cassie recognised the inside of the newsagent’s even though the camera was filming from the rear of the counter. It took her a second or so to relocate the shelves from left to right, as she reminded herself she was looking at the mirror image to the one she had seen on her visit. The recording was jerky because the camera took pictures every few seconds as it swivelled round the shop, and the focus moved backwards and forwards.
‘At least the pictures are in focus,’ James said.
Cassie nodded, watching the screen intently, taking note of the position of the magazines and the displays of chocolate bars. For a few minutes nothing happened, and then a figure appeared behind the advertisements stuck on the window pane of the front door, which opened and a bell rang. At that moment the camera swung round towards the right and when it returned to centre there was no one in view. As it moved to the left three figures were standing by the racks of newspapers and magazines. The young men were all quite tall and dressed identically in what was clearly a uniform of some kind – pale brown jumpers, dark coloured slacks, white shirts and striped ties in brown and gold. The top buttons of their shirts were undone and their ties hung loosely.
‘I’d have been in detention if I’d gone out of school dressed like that,’ said James.
‘I think this school’s just glad they turn up.’
Cassie wondered which school he had attended. He still had a faint Irish accent, which made her think he might have gone to some posh school. James must have guessed what she was thinking. ‘Rathmore Grammar School in Belfast. It’s a mixed Catholic school. And I got a scholarship,’ he said.
The camera moved back and this time the bald patch on the back of a head was visible and a voice said, ‘What do you want, boys?’
‘That’s our client,’ Cassie said.
‘Bit brusque.’
They continued to watch the video in silence. Cassie could see James grimacing at their client’s language. She too was disgusted by his racism but she had agreed to defend the case, indeed under the cab rank rule she had no option. Montgomery was entitled to a defence no matter how obnoxious he was.
During a sequence when there was a lot of shouting, Cassie heard the sound of a mobile. For a moment she thought it was something on the recording, but then she picked up her phone and answered it, while motioning to James to put the DVD on pause.
‘Ben,’ she said and then she stood up, walked across the room and looked out of the window towards the gardens below. ‘Where are you? I thought you weren’t back for another fortnight?’
‘I’m still in Washington. I’ve been trying to contact you on Skype, but you’re not responding.’
‘I know. Every time you’ve been online, I’ve been in the middle of something.’ It was a lame excuse, but if she was concentrating on her work she did find it difficult to suddenly switch to idle chatter, even with the man she thought she was in love with.
‘I’ve been worried about those emails you’ve been getting. Have you been to the police?’
Cassie was touched by his concern. ‘No, it’s just some crank, one of the groupies at the Bailey. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. He hasn’t threatened to hurt me, or anything like that.’ She didn’t want him to know how upset she was. ‘How’s the conference going?’
‘Good, but I’ve been rushing around attending different groups. Look, I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.’
‘Ben, I start this murder trial next week. I’ll be tied up while that’s on. Call me when you’ve recovered from your jet lag,’ she said. James was standing next to her and poured some more of the wine into her glass.
‘Is there somebody with you?’ said Ben.
‘No. I’m working on this case. Ben, I have to go. See you soon. Bye.’ She disconnected the call and immediately regretted the lie. She should have said the junior barrister for Montgomery was with her. There was nothing wrong with that, but she wasn’t sure Ben would understand.
Neither she nor James spoke, but they both returned to their seats, and James pushed the remote to start the CCTV recording. Now the door of the shop was wide open, Montgomery was either on the step or just outside on the pavement with his arm aloft. There was a movement on the left of the shopkeeper and then the arm holding the golf club descended. The camera began to pan round the shop. Cassie and James waited for it to pick up any of the action again, but by the time it did, Montgomery was running back towards the camera. The time was fifteen thirty-seven and then the screen went blank.
‘Four minutes. The whole incident took four minutes,’ said James, ‘and the kid was dead.’
‘Seriously injured. He was taken to hospital but there wasn’t anything the doctors could do. He was in a coma when his parents arrived. His mother was distraught. The medics talked it over with them. They didn’t understand or didn’t want to accept how badly he was injured. He wasn’t going to survive and they had to make the decision to turn off the life-support machine. That’s a terrible thing to have to do.’
James said nothing but his face was set and his eyes stony.
Cassie broke the silence. ‘I’d like you to play the DVD over again and make a note of the times when anything significant happens. Jas says Loveday yelled but the camera doesn’t appear to have caught that. Can you check that out? Is that ok?’
‘How far out of the shop do you think Montgomery was?’
>
‘It was difficult to tell, but I guess the boy coming from the left was Young, so we could argue the group were still crowded round him,’ Cassie said.
‘He could have closed the door on them, couldn’t he?’
‘He’s entitled to make sure they leave his property. Then he says one of them pulled the knife out and threatened him with it. That’s when he struck out.’
‘I don’t think the CCTV is much help. It proves the events take place quickly, but there are too many breaks to give a clear story.’
‘Clear account. Never say story.’
‘Sorry. I was sort of thinking the recording supports the prosecution version. Montgomery chasing them out, brandishing a golf club and then hitting out at Young. Would you want the jury to see it?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that. Can you ask Tim to get another copy?’
Cassie picked up the bottle of wine and held it towards James. ‘Let’s finish the bottle.’
He held his glass out for her to refill it. ‘What’s with the Bailey groupies and emails?’
Cassie twisted her hands as she told him about both the emails and the envelope containing the postcard.
‘It seems a bit more threatening than some old boy who sits in the public gallery. Shouldn’t you tell the police?’
‘We’ve this murder trial to get through. I can’t get tied up with making statements at the moment. Anyway, as I told Ben, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about yet.’
‘I gather Ben is a scientist. A bit of a genius, I’m told. Is it serious?’
‘I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I keep my private life out of chambers. It works best that way.’
‘You mean you don’t want anyone to think you’re vulnerable. Not tough enough.’
‘Something like that.’ Cassie frowned.
‘I think I’ll go,’ said James, putting his glass down.
‘Sure, we’ll speak soon, arrange for you to meet the client before the trial.’
James put his hand up to her face and stroked her cheek.
‘Don’t – this is a professional relationship. It doesn’t work, other tenants … and there’s Ben.’
‘Sure there’s Ben.’
After James had left, she sat in front of her computer, thinking about Ben. They had been in a relationship for over two years now and she knew the time was fast approaching when she would have to make a decision about him. Although they spent most weekends together, Ben had recently hinted at moving in with her and leaving the flat in South Kensington he shared with two of his friends. She had taken him home to meet her parents. Her father said very little, but she thought he had approved of Ben. Her mother had been more forthright. ‘So much nicer than Tony. I knew that was a mistake from the beginning. But you’ll make your own mind up, you always do. Just remember time is slipping past.’
Cassie shook her head, closed the computer down and put the thoughts of her ex-husband and his behaviour out of her head. Her future: she’d think about that some other time.
Chapter17
Cassie spent the Thursday before the Montgomery trial was due to begin at home working on the papers and planning her tactics for the trial. A conference had been arranged for the next day at the offices of Durrant and Smyth in Shepherds Bush. Later that afternoon a telephone call from Hamish had sent her into chambers to advise on a case of incest listed for the autumn. When she finished working on the papers, she went down the darkened stairwell into the clerks’ room. Some time before Cassie joined 3 Burke Court it had been two rooms, and it still had the high ceilings and ornate cornices. She had been told by her pupil mistress that there had been a row with their landlord, Middle Temple, and English Heritage about the alterations, but in the end the wall had been demolished. Rumours had circulated around chambers that these were the rooms in which the notorious Judge Jeffreys had lived and worked in the seventeenth century. Cassie hoped his malignant influence had not reached out across the centuries.
The single lamp in the courtyard at the rear threw shadows across the desks and the computers, whose own lights flickered. Towards the back of the room a lamp on one of the desks was illuminated. Cassie stepped forward and put out her hand to the switch, but before she flicked it off, a voice said, ‘Who’s that?’ Cassie recognised it as Eleanor and walked into the hidden interior of the room.
‘Just me,’ she said. ‘I had to come in to do an advice for a solicitor who’s screaming, even though the trial isn’t for months.’
Eleanor came towards her. ‘Sure, sure, some of them are impossible. As if one hadn’t enough to do with one’s current trial. I thought everyone had gone home.’
‘I’m on my way, I’m just picking up some papers.’ Cassie moved towards her pigeonhole which was at the far end of the row.
‘How are you getting on with that murder brief? I understand the man has a defence.’ Eleanor backed a few paces, putting herself between Cassie and the desks at the rear of the room.
‘He has a run on self-defence, but he’s such a racist, he’ll say something that will lead to his conviction. Marcus Pike is prosecuting and he won’t let him get away without a fight.’
‘Cassie, I suppose you know Richard knows about Hales being arrested. I thought it best to tell him. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No, no … of course not. He would have to know eventually. And Jack knows as well.’
‘Have you succeeded in keeping the police at bay?’
‘For the moment. They’re very anxious to trace the supplier.’
‘What puzzles me about Roger’s story is that he just left it in his pocket until it was found by the police. Would he go clubbing in a dark grey suit?’
‘You’re right. He was described as wearing jeans at the time of his arrest. He was asked about it during the police interview but he couldn’t explain it. Afterwards he told me he wasn’t sure but it may have been the day he was clearing out that cubby hole on the third floor. He’d put the same jeans on to go out on the Friday night – the night he was arrested.’
Eleanor nodded, but Cassie thought she wasn’t convinced. ‘Has Jack confirmed that?’
‘I haven’t asked him. At the time I assumed he didn’t know Roger had been arrested.’
‘Richard told him and said to hold his fire until we’re sure we’ve got the police off our backs.’
Cassie turned away and pulled all the letters and papers from her pigeonhole. She stuffed them in her briefcase without looking at them. If there were circulars and advertising material she would sort them out at home. As she turned to leave, Eleanor said, ‘Did Jack tell you how clever he was to get you the Montgomery brief?’
Cassie thought there was an edge in Eleanor’s voice. ‘Of course, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.’
‘How much are you dependent on the clerks for work? I know Tim Durrant sends you some good work, but is he the only one?’
‘I’m getting some work from Alison’s husband, as you said.’ Cassie had opposed Alison being given a tenancy at 3 Burke Court, but Eleanor had suggested she might benefit from work sent from the firm where Alison’s husband was a partner. In the end she had been too wrapped up in the Barker case to spend any more energy fighting about who would be offered a tenancy. Now she was glad she had dropped her opposition.
‘And I’ve just done a case for Lee Shaw.’
‘Shaw and Winter. Good firm. I’d suggest you don’t rely on Jack too much. See what you can do to broaden the number of solicitors.’
Cassie didn’t know what to say. She appreciated how fickle Jack could be, but she had always relied on getting work on the basis of her ability as an advocate, not on cultivating solicitors by entertaining them to drinks or dinner. On the one occasion she had taken a solicitor out to lunch, he had made it clear he sent his work, which was mainly large fraud cases, to barristers who introduced clients to him. As she didn’t know anyone who was likely to be involved in running companies where opportunit
ies for dishonesty arose, she had come to the conclusion that she wouldn’t be instructed by him or his firm.
‘You might think about doing a little more prosecuting,’ Eleanor said, and then she turned away, checked her watch and switched off the computer.
‘I’m dining in Middle Temple Hall, and if I don’t leave now I’ll be late.’ Eleanor smiled at Cassie, her eyes warm and her usual charm restored.
Cassie turned off the lights and followed Eleanor out. They parted at the bottom of the steps into Middle Temple Lane, Eleanor crossing towards the entrance to the Hall and Cassie turning north towards Fleet Street. She had been startled by Eleanor’s advice and was trying to work out why Eleanor had chosen that moment to offer such guidance, when she saw the well-dressed figure of Marcus Pike coming towards her.
‘Cassie, just the person I wanted to see. Come and have a drink. We can talk about this case we’re doing.’
He took her arm and led her back along the lane and across Fountain Court, where a large stone bowl had water bubbling up from its centre and from which the square got its name, out through the narrow gate into a crooked passageway and then into the door of the Devereux Arms. The bar was full with the barristers, solicitors and their clerks who comprised the Victorian pub’s clientele. The dark clothes, unrelieved by any hint of colour, made the scene look like it was from an early movie. Cassie saw a number of pupils from her chambers and she spoke briefly to them. Marcus too nodded at some of the people standing in the room. He pushed his way through to a table by a window which looked out onto the narrow pedestrian walk, and invited her to sit down while he got some drinks. She watched him as, despite his small stature, he elbowed his way through the crowd to the bar. He soon returned carrying a bottle of red wine and two glasses which he placed in front of her. Seating himself opposite her, he poured out the wine.
Reluctant Consent Page 9
