Cassie couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She put her head down and pushed through the crowd and into the courtroom without a word and sat down in her usual place. She looked up at the public gallery, shook her head and then balanced her notebook on her files. She ignored Marcus as he took his seat.
Judge Crabtree sat promptly at ten thirty. He clearly planned to sum up and get the jury out that morning. Cassie watched them closely. She was on her own today; James had been sent to another court. Zac had moved to sit right behind her. Once the judge was seated he looked at Cassie and raised his eyebrows, then tapped on the pale wooden top of the bench until the court clerk got up and turned to face him. He whispered something to her, which caused her to write on a scrap of paper which she motioned to the usher to hand to Cassie. The note asked her if she was ready for the trial to continue. When she looked up she became aware Judge Crabtree was watching her. She nodded at him to indicate she was fine and, with that, the judge commenced his summing up.
Although she had made it clear there was no problem, it wasn’t true. She and James had drunk a little too much wine, Cassie trying to suppress her fears in an alcoholic haze. She hadn’t succeeded. At home, each and every noise had left her stiff with fear until she had identified its source. Her downstairs neighbour had come in late and bustled around, the hinges of the front door sighed, and, when a heavy lorry went past, the window frames rattled with the wind. From time to time she had got up and peered out of the windows onto the Chepstow Road, looking for anything strange, anyone hanging around for no apparent reason. But the road had been quiet and she had only seen the odd late-night party goer on their way home. She had tiptoed into the kitchen to get a glass of water but she hadn’t been quiet enough. James wriggled out of his sleeping bag and stood up.
‘Can’t you sleep?’
‘I keep thinking he might come here. He’s been before.’
‘I’m here. I won’t let anything happen.’ He had taken her by the hand and led her into her bedroom. She had got back into bed and he had lain down beside her. ‘It’s all right. Let me just hold you.’ Cassie hadn’t protested, she was too weary.
Now, although she was sure Delaney couldn’t get into the courtroom and the number of staff was reassuring, still from time to time she looked up at the public gallery. Judge Crabtree’s voice was melodious and she soon found herself settling into the rhythm of her work, listening to the judge’s summing up to ensure there were no mistakes.
She noted he’d told them of their respective roles in the trial and then he said, ‘I have drafted a few questions that I think will help you come to your decision.’ He handed a sheaf of paper to the clerk in front of him and she passed them on to the usher. Cassie looked at the copy she had been given and she checked that the questions were appropriate. Once the jury had been given their copies Judge Crabtree continued. ‘The law of self-defence is really common sense. If a man is under attack he is entitled to defend himself so long as he uses no more than is reasonable force. In this case, when Montgomery struck Albert Young, did he believe he was about to be attacked by one or more of these boys? If on the evidence you are sure that the defendant was the aggressor and did not believe he was under attack but acted out of anger fuelled by racism then you will return a verdict of guilty. If however you consider it was or may be the case that Montgomery believed he was under attack or about to be attacked you must go on to consider if what he did was reasonable. If you consider that what he did in the heat of the moment, when fine judgements are difficult, was no more than he reasonably believed was necessary, that would be strong evidence that what he did was reasonable. It is for you to decide whether the force used was reasonable and you must do that on the circumstances as you find the defendant believed them to be. If you are sure that even allowing for the difficulties he faced in the heat of the moment he used more than reasonable force, he is guilty.
‘Well, that’s the law. As you can see, I’ve listed those questions on the sheet of paper for you to have while you consider your verdicts. We’ll take a break now and I’ll remind you of the evidence you’ve heard.’
Outside the court, Marcus told them he was leaving to go back to the trial he had started in another court in the building. Cassie grinned at him. ‘Another murder then?’
‘No. It’s a multi-handed fraud.’ He put his hand to his mouth as if to stifle a yawn.
‘Have fun,’ she said. She was a little envious of Marcus, able to leave this trial and go on to something different, while she had to remain and wait for the jury to consider and deliver a verdict. It was one of the advantages of prosecuting; the client was the prosecuting authority and they were not as involved in the outcome of the case. She wondered how long the break would be and then decided she had time for a coffee in the Bar Mess.
The large room upstairs was furnished as a self-service café with a servery at one end and long tables in rows. Where the room narrowed because of the stairs, there was a green leather sofa and a few easy chairs that looked like the leftovers from a gentlemen’s club. The coffee table was covered with this morning’s newspapers and copies of Country Life. There were no women’s magazines, nothing that gave any indication the users may be interested in anything other than country pursuits and large houses. Cassie sat down in one of the chairs and picked up a copy of the Daily Argos. She flipped through the pages, reading a paragraph here and there until a photograph caught her attention. She folded the paper and examined the picture carefully. The picture was black and white, and, although, the young woman was wearing make-up, the eyes heavily rimmed with kohl and the eyelashes encrusted with mascara, the face was that of Emma Gilbrook. Cassie began to read the article, which although it didn’t name her was highly critical of the trial process and the cross examination. The implication was that the verdict was wrong and Paul Sadler had only been acquitted because of the wiles of his barrister. She suspected she had not been named only because some libel lawyer had thought a personal attack on her would be actionable. If Delaney read this, would his anger be fuelled by the insinuation she had been brutal with her cross examination? And as the tannoy called her back to Court 10, she wondered how Sadler would feel as his acquittal was called into question.
The jury box was empty when she hurried through the door. Robin Tasker was standing in front of the clerk’s bench chatting to a small redhead who was sitting behind it, her curls poking out from under her wig. She didn’t notice Cassie at first, but as soon as she did, she said, ‘The judge wants to see you in chambers.’ With that she got up and led the two of them up past the judge’s chair and out into the expensively carpeted corridor where the judges had their rooms.
The usher knocked on the inner door and, when a voice invited them in, opened it and stood aside to let Cassie and Robin enter the room. Judge Crabtree stood up as they walked in and pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. Photographs of the judge in slacks and a white shirt holding various model yachts were still hanging on the walls. When she and Robin were seated, Judge Crabtree sat down at his desk, which was covered with copies of different newspapers opened at similar items to the one Cassie had seen in the Daily Argos.
‘Cassie, I understand this case,’ he pointed to one of the papers, ‘was one in which you were defending?’
‘Yes, My Lord. Paul Sadler was acquitted and it was a perfectly reasonable verdict on the evidence. ’
‘It’s very sad for her family. Terrible thing to happen. Sadler will find this difficult too. He’s been acquitted, yet the press is behaving as if he was guilty … I don’t think if our jury read this it will affect this trial, will it? Having you all over the press at this stage. ’ He waved his hand over the collection of papers.
‘No. I’m sure not. Actually I don’t think they say who defence counsel was. They do make it clear it was a woman.’
‘Yes, I thought one of them did say something about a Miss Hardman. Described you as an ambitious lawyer.’ He nodded and smiled at her, and then sai
d, ‘Robin, do you think there are any repercussions for the trial?’
Robin Tasker shook his head. ‘I can’t think of any.’
‘Good. We’ll reconvene the court and I’ll continue with my summing up.’
Cassie was furious as she considered Judge Crabtree’s remarks; all he was concerned about was whether the trial would be prejudiced in any way.
Back at her place in court, she found an envelope on the bench in front of her. She turned it over in her hand; there was nothing written on it. It was not sealed. She opened the flap and pulled from it a photograph with the name of a West London photographer’s studio stamped on the back. She turned it over and the eyes of Emma Gilbrook gazed into hers. Cassie stifled a sob. She couldn’t cry here.
Chapter 43
As Judge Crabtree made his closing remarks, James slipped into the courtroom to stand under the public gallery. Cassie waited for the judge to finish and then asked for Montgomery to be granted bail within the precincts of the court. Judge Crabtree must have decided Montgomery wasn’t about to bolt under the stress of waiting for the verdict and, to her surprise, acceded to her request. It was ironic, she thought, that while her client’s future was decided by the jury he had to spend the time waiting with a man whose race challenged all his prejudices. She spoke briefly to Montgomery and then left him with Zac, admonishing them both to stay together in the canteen and on no account to leave the building. Montgomery asked her how long she thought the jury would take to consider their verdict.
‘I’ve no idea. We have to wait for as long as they take. Go and get yourself a coffee or something.’ She relented a little and added, ‘I know it’s difficult but there’s nothing we can do now, just hope they return the right verdict.’
She walked with them to the lifts. ‘I have some telephone calls to make. I’ll see you later. James, you might like to stay with Mr Montgomery for a while. Oh, and see if you can arrange for Mrs Montgomery to come into canteen, rather than stay in the public gallery.’ James said he would although he didn’t look too pleased, but he was her junior and he would do as she asked.
Up in the Bar Mess, she sat down on one of the green leather chairs and looked at the selection of newspapers on the coffee table in front of her. Nearly all of them had an article about the suicide of Emma Gilbrook. Cassie looked at the report in The Guardian. It didn’t seem any more balanced than any of the others but there was a quote from Emma’s brother, Felix Delaney. ‘My sister was very upset by the verdict in the recent trial of Paul Sadler. She always maintained she had been telling the truth and that he had raped her. She felt the trial was like a second rape, being cross examined about her previous sexual experiences and called a liar. She believed that if the jury had heard all the evidence they would have convicted the defendant, but some relevant parts were excluded by the judge after an application by the defence lawyer.’
She thought about the brother’s comments and the evidence she had persuaded the judge to eliminate from the prosecution case. His assertion that she had cross examined his sister about her previous sexual experience was not true. The issue had been raised because of her mother’s claim she was a virgin. In addition, the evidence he was referring to was the messages on the Rush Hour Crush web page in the preceding three months. Cassie didn’t think they would have helped the prosecution case at all. Had the messages been adduced before the jury she would have called the young women who had responded to the posts. Their accounts of meeting with Sadler would have confirmed he was not placing the requests to find women to sexually assault. All it would have done was prolong the trial. The only problem was that when the police first questioned him about it he had denied the messages were his, because he thought it made him look a fool. Cassie had objected to the evidence because it seemed to her irrelevant in the totality of the case. Certainly the prosecution’s suggestion he had lied because he had posted the emails in order to find other victims to rape or sexually assault could be undermined. He claimed it was a way of meeting attractive women without using a dating agency and without paying any fees for introductions.
Cassie picked up another newspaper and saw the same quote repeated there. She was checking the rest of the pile when her mobile rang. She checked the screen and saw it was Lee Shaw.
‘Hi, Lee, I’m waiting for a jury at the Bailey, so I might have to run. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, but Paul Sadler isn’t. He’s very upset and angry about the way the press are assuming he’s guilty despite the verdict. And that the publicity will get him the sack.’
‘I’m not surprised. He’s been acquitted by a jury and is being tried all over again in the newspapers.’
‘What do you suggest? He’s talking about a defamation action.’
‘I don’t know. I’m not a libel lawyer – and aren’t there problems with funding a libel case? As I recollect Sadler was on Legal Aid for the rape trial. I suppose we could draft a statement for him with some explanation about the facts of the case, but sometimes it’s best to let these things go and ignore it. It’s never long before something else takes over the front pages and this will be forgotten.’
She had just finished speaking when the tannoy summoned all parties in the case of Montgomery to Court 10. ‘We’ve been called back into court. I’ll speak to you later.’
‘It’s a verdict,’ James said as she settled into the seat in front of him. She turned towards him and saw Montgomery in the dock; his face was grey and he seemed to have aged in the time the jury had been out. Marcus had returned and, although his face was impassive, he was tapping the edge of the oak bench in front of him.
Once Judge Crabtree was back on the bench, the usher led the jury into the court and motioned them to take their seats. ‘Anywhere will do, members of the jury, except the foreman should take the seat nearest to me in the front row.’ There was a shuffle as the jurors rearranged themselves. The woman who always wore a pink shirt took the foreman’s seat. She looked directly at Montgomery and Cassie closed her eyes, hoping that was a sign that the verdict was favourable.
The clerk stood and, holding the indictment in front of her, asked the jury foreman to stand. The woman rose to her feet holding a sheet of paper in her right hand and with her left she pulled at the collar of her shirt.
‘Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?’ the clerk said.
‘Yes, we have.’
‘Do you find David Winston Montgomery guilty or not guilty of the murder of Albert Young?’
Cassie picked up a pen, flicked the pages of the notebook in front of her, and leant forward. Her eyes flickered along the two rows of jurors. They weren’t looking at Montgomery. She dreaded the thought of a guilty verdict, drafting grounds of appeal and then standing before a bench of High Court judges and being interrogated by them as she tried to argue Montgomery’s case.
The forewoman looked down at the paper in her hand and said, ‘Not guilty.’
‘On count two, do you find the defendant David Winston Montgomery guilty or not guilty of the unlawful killing of Albert Young?’
There was brief pause and then, ‘Not guilty, My Lord.’
Cassie heard James breathe out and her heart resumed its regular beat. She asked for Montgomery to be discharged and as Judge Crabtree granted her request she allowed herself to turn and look at her client. He was standing with his eyes closed and his hands clutching the bar of the dock. She watched him as he looked up at the public gallery and she followed his gaze to where his wife was sitting and smiling down at him.
Cassie heard the judge thank the jury and then say he was adjourning. He left the bench and the jury began to file out of the courtroom. One of the jurors, an older black woman, stopped on the way out to speak to Albie Young’s mother who must have slipped into the courtroom without Cassie noticing her. She didn’t want to think about how the dead boy’s mother or family were feeling. She began to bundle her papers together and as she did so Marcus walked the length
of the bench. ‘Well done. Not the easiest of clients.’
‘Thanks. I must admit there were times when I thought we would be lucky to get away without a conviction for manslaughter.’
‘I understand the case all this fuss in the papers is about was a trial you defended in.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Don’t let it get to you. It’s bad, the girl committed suicide, but that isn’t your responsibility. The newspapers love it, but they’re worse than lawyers when they think they have a good story. Just think of hacking into people’s telephones. At least when we question witnesses we’re controlled by a judge. I’m sure it will blow over.’
‘I hope this does,’ said Cassie, ‘I hope it does.’ Not only the newspapers, she thought.
Chapter 44
There was scrum of journalists, photographers and TV cameramen outside the Old Bailey when Alex arrived. She pushed her way through them and into the foyer of the Central Criminal Court. She asked the security guard what had got the press so excited and he told her there was a paedophile ring being tried, and also some of them had been asking about the barrister who had got a rapist acquitted.
Alex grimaced. Not only was Cassie Hardman at risk from Emma Gilbrook’s father but the press were harassing her as well. She walked upstairs to the outside of the courtroom where the bail application was listed. Stephen Burnett was waiting in the wide hallway and walked towards her.
‘Are you here for the bail application in Court 6?’ he said.
She told him she was.
‘Cassie’s really upset about the girl’s death. Is she really at risk from the father?’
‘Malcolm certainly made threats yesterday when we were at the mortuary. I suppose you know he’s been harassing her for some time.’
‘She’s a tough cookie and hasn’t said much.’ He frowned and then tapped the brief he was holding. ‘Are you still opposing bail?’
Reluctant Consent Page 25
