by Abi Silver
‘Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?’
Judith could not mistake the bitterness in his voice. Now she said nothing.
‘Is that it?’ Greg said. ‘All I get. You’re booting me out, but you’re doing it for my benefit?’
‘I’m sorry. It’s how I feel,’ she said. ‘It was supposed to be temporary, when you moved in.’
Greg picked up his jacket.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It was. Not like you to let that one slide. Have I broken the terms of my contract then? No problem. I’ll grab my stuff. What are you so afraid of?’ he burst out suddenly, hovering in the doorway of the bedroom they shared.
Judith bit her lip and returned to her books.
Greg shrugged. ‘Looks like I’ll never get to know now.’
He nudged the door closed with his foot. After only five minutes he emerged with a small bag. He stopped by the front door to deposit his key and then he was gone.
PART THREE
Two Months Later
55
JAMES SAT quietly in the dock. He was impeccably turned out, as Constance would have expected, but his face had taken on a gaunt air recently, and if anyone had looked closely, they would have noticed that his suit hung off him in multiple places. He had given up standing on the bathroom scales at home, once his weight travelled south of eleven and a half stone, telling himself he would ‘sort it all out with a few good meals’ once the trial was over.
Since his arrest, he had stuck firmly to the story that he had been in control of the car at the point of collision, insisting ‘that must have been what happened,’ although he maintained that he still had no memory of any of the journey. And he had provided little practical assistance with building a case for his own defence.
Judith and Constance had tried, only yesterday, to obtain more from him, on their final session before the trial began.
***
‘When the first autonomous cars were being tested on the streets in San Francisco there were reports of them going through red traffic lights. What do you know about that?’ Judith had asked him, with forced patience.
‘Human error,’ James had said. ‘The cars were being driven at the time.’
‘You can’t expect us to believe that.’ Judith had said. ‘At that second, when they went through the red lights, just that second, they were being driven?’
James had shrugged. ‘That’s what Uber said, and it didn’t go further because no one was hurt. I don’t know anything more.’
‘But they were taken off the roads?’
‘For a couple of months, yes. And it didn’t happen again when they came back.’
‘What about the Tesla driver in Florida, and the trailer?’
‘That was in auto pilot. Tesla said the car got confused between the white colour of the trailer and the sky. But Tesla’s auto pilot isn’t the same as our autonomous mode. It’s just auto pilot, that’s all, far less sophisticated.’
‘But there is evidence to suggest that autonomous vehicles do have difficulty distinguishing objects when in bright sunlight, isn’t there?’
James had shrugged again.
‘Come on! We can read the material ourselves, but we need you to give us confirmation we are on the right lines.’ Judith rapped her pen down on her page.
‘Why are you asking me about this stuff? It wasn’t bright on October 10th, there were no white trailers and the expert report says I was driving.’
‘It only says you were driving at the very end, the last three, four seconds. Before that it says the car was in control. We need you to lay it bare for us, warts and all. All the stuff that keeps you awake at night. All the flaws you are trying to iron out with your vehicles. All the tiny, niggly, not-quite-right features which might explain the collision.’
‘If I give you that list I am committing commercial suicide!’
Constance had stopped making notes and was frowning at James.
‘We won’t use material in court without your permission,’ Judith tried to reassure him, ‘but if we don’t get the basics from you, we can’t even begin to craft your defence.’
‘I don’t want you to “craft my defence”. I’ve been reading all about the trial process. The prosecution has to show beyond reasonable doubt that I was driving dangerously. We don’t have to do anything really.’
‘We have to raise that doubt in the jury’s mind.’
‘I was driving within the speed limit and the boy ran out into the road.’
‘And you hit him at 36mph on the wrong side of the road.’
‘I was on my side.’
‘You were driving at full speed on a part of the road which was closed to vehicles. We have to come up with a plausible reason why.’
James stared at the floor.
‘All right. If you won’t give us your snagging list despite my assurances, let’s try some specific questions and see if that works any better.’
***
Martine sat in the front row of the public gallery with Toby next to her. Her hair was still a ‘to wish for’ shade of chestnut and she was sporting her characteristic red lipstick, but she wore a demure navy suit and a serious expression. She had dodged all Constance’s calls since their meeting and ignored her messages.
Toby had promised James he would keep a close eye on everything in the office and, over the last week, he had worn his suit every day, including socks, arrived early and left late, waiting for his ‘call up’ to the hot seat. In contrast to Martine, he had answered Constance’s subsequent enquiries, but all of them by telephone and generally on the run from one place to another, and occasionally from somewhere noisy with music playing in the background.
Jeremy Fry was also present, about halfway back, arms folded. He had sent James a supportive text that morning, which James would appreciate when he got to see it. James had also received a ‘Good Luck’ card from the staff, which he had read and put away in his desk drawer. It had seemed a strange gesture in the circumstances, but he appreciated the sentiment.
Neil and Therese Layton sat only a few seats from Martine. Neil was fussing over his wife, ensuring she was comfortable, whispering things behind his hand, plucking at his own shirt, checking his phone. He had given journalists ‘an exclusive’ the previous week, including more photographs of the family in happier days, timed perfectly to evoke maximum sympathy in the run-up to the trial.
Therese had not contributed to the newspaper article. She sat perfectly still, her glassy eyes fixed on James. Judith concluded she was most likely on medication, although she had not been given notice by the prosecution.
Judge Wilson was reputedly an IT buff, one of the advocates of a number of digital innovations of recent years, to help things move more smoothly in the court room. That wasn’t a bad thing, Judith mused. At least she could count on him to be interested in the various technical defences she would be putting forward. But he was also extremely harsh when it came to sentencing, generally preferring the higher end of any tariff. If James was convicted of both causing death and serious injury by dangerous driving, he could be looking at a fifteen-year prison term.
Celia Mansome QC, sat next to Judith, separated by less than three feet but thirty-five years of animosity. Judith had stifled her consternation when she heard who would be prosecuting James, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Constance.
***
‘You don’t like her?’ Celia had passed close by, while they were waiting outside court, fifteen minutes earlier. Constance knew Judith well enough now to read some of the signs she gave out.
‘We were at school together – only briefly, thank God. She was a nasty piece of work then. And you know how when you meet people years later and you are forced to admit that, perhaps you were wrong or they have mellowed or learned the error of their ways?’
‘
Let me guess. That didn’t happen with Celia Mansome.’
‘Quite right. The woman had become more objectionable and opinionated than ever. Do you know, she once called me slow-witted? “Slow-witted?” Me? Not that I took it personally. Not when it came from a cart-horse like Celia.’
‘Cart horse?’
‘She was on the heavy side at the age of twelve and last to be picked for sports. And her parents kept horses. Some of the girls, not me I should say, gave her that nickname.’
‘What happened?’
‘She got thin and beautiful, well, scrubbed up fairly well and got a top First from Oxford, and everyone who had been nasty to her ate their words.’
‘Is she any good?’
‘Sadly, yes, very. She prosecutes each and every case as if it’s a personal affront. And she is pushing for a space on the bench, I’ve heard, so I can see why this case would be so attractive to her. She probably has friends in the government and they will want to make sure they don’t get egg on their faces over this one.’
‘I know the solicitor,’ Constance said.
‘Do you?’
‘Sarah Timmins. We were at law school together. She fancied our tutor. I think I heard they moved in together later on, but I covered for her once when her boyfriend came to find her.’
‘Will she remember?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Good. Let’s keep all avenues of communication open. We might just need them.’
***
‘Celia. How nice to see you again.’ Judith leaned across and shook her opponent’s hand, with a wide-eyed air of sincerity.
‘Judith. I heard you’d retired but then I was so pleased to hear you were back in the saddle. Was it money trouble?’
‘What?’
‘Brought you back into the ring?’
‘And I heard you only back sure-fire winners these days, as you have your eye on the big prizes. I’m surprised you want to risk everything on this one.’
‘How can there be any risk in this case? First, your client was driving the car. And second, everything was in working order. If he persists in defending, he could get the maximum sentence. I’m telling you now, in all fairness, that’s what I’ll be asking for.’
‘It’s so kind of you to appraise me of your strategy, albeit blinkered and lame.’
Celia folded her hands on her lap.
‘You think you’re on a winning streak, Judith, but I know your weaknesses and I will show no mercy. I don’t spare the crop; be warned.’
Constance observed the two women with a mixture of curiosity and bemusement. She had often wondered if Judith had been exactly the same as a girl and this horsey banter with her old nemesis strongly hinted that she had. Then she saw Sarah, the opposing solicitor, watching her and she looked away.
***
Celia began at a little after 10am that morning.
‘Members of the jury. This is a case where a family has been devastated by the events of a split second on the 10th of October last year. In that moment, a car, with the defendant, James Salisbury, behind the wheel, mowed them down as they crossed the road close to their home. It wasn’t dark, it wasn’t raining and they would have been in his clear view – that is, if he had been attending to the road. Instead, eye witness evidence will establish, beyond doubt, that he was driving too fast and using his mobile phone.
‘Mr Salisbury’s vehicle hit the family at just under forty miles per hour, killing two children, Georgia, aged five, and Bertie, aged three, and seriously injuring Mrs Therese Layton, their mother. Mrs Layton broke her arm and her pelvis and has undergone reconstructive surgery to allow her to walk again. The baby, Ruby, in her pram, four months old, was pushed to safety and was thankfully unharmed.
‘I have mentioned the speed, just under forty miles per hour, so, admittedly within the lawful speed limit for that stretch of road. However, you will hear from the police that the car should have been travelling much more slowly, given the road layout. And the expert evidence will establish that the angle at which the family was hit, essentially the car being driven straight at them, contributed to the devastation Mr Salisbury caused.
‘Mr Salisbury happens to be the founder of SEDA, a company which manufactures, trials and aspires to sell autonomous cars. The vehicle involved in the accident was a SEDA autonomous vehicle. Now my learned friend, Ms Burton, defending Mr Salisbury, will make much of this. She intends to call witnesses to talk about autonomous vehicles and how they operate.
‘I say and I will continue to say, throughout this trial, that this is all smoke and mirrors. It is of no relevance whatsoever. This is a straightforward case of dangerous driving leading to a collision with tragic consequences. Mr Salisbury, for reasons known only to himself, took control of the vehicle, then drove it erratically, in law, dangerously, leading to the death of the Layton children and their mother’s serious, life-changing injuries.
‘I will be bringing evidence from a specialist technical examination of the vehicle, which will show exactly how dangerously it was driven just before the collision, but that is the only technical evidence of relevance in this case. James Salisbury, and James Salisbury alone, is the person responsible for these deaths and for Mrs Layton’s injuries and, once you have heard the clear evidence, you should have no hesitation in returning a verdict of guilty to both charges. Thank you.’
Judith watched the jury watching Celia. It was normal for them to be engaged at the beginning of any trial, before they started to dwell on the disruption to their personal lives: missed family meals, stacking up favours which would later be called in by friends or employers, difficult daily commutes to and from court. Even in the most interesting cases someone would always detach on day two, usually mid-afternoon.
It tended to begin with one juror, often a middle-aged woman, juggling work, kids, aged parents, insomnia and other personal or family health issues. She would start to fidget, almost imperceptibly at first, touching her hair or face, crossing or uncrossing her legs. Within an hour, at least two more jurors would have joined her and the trio would have become a quartet by the next morning.
There were always one or two stalwarts, usually men in their sixties or, occasionally, a fresh-faced youngster, who prided themselves on their stoicism, who didn’t flinch during harrowing forensic evidence and remained focused throughout the most long-winded and detailed testimony. But it was tough retaining their interest. That was one reason why it was so important to make an impression at the start, when the jurors’ minds were open and receptive.
‘Mr Salisbury was not driving the car which was involved in this terrible collision,’ Judith began simply. ‘I prevented myself from leaping up to interrupt my learned friend, as a courtesy at this early stage of the proceedings, when she referred to his being behind the wheel…’
‘I think you’ll find I chose my words carefully enough…’ Celia replied.
‘If I may continue… When she referred to his being behind the wheel of the car, as if it were an ordinary vehicle, with which we are all familiar; a Toyota Yaris, a Mini Cooper. The car in this case was out of the ordinary, part of the new breed of driverless cars. In the industry they are known as autonomous cars because they act independently of any human intervention. Crucially, they govern their own actions, free from our influence.’ Judith allowed her words to sink in, counting to five in her head, before continuing.
‘I say now, in opening, and the defence will show, that the car, a 2016 SEDA, was, at all relevant times, operating in autonomous mode. While the expert evidence appears to show Mr Salisbury attempting to take over, he was not, in fact, in control of the SEDA when it crashed; he was no more driving the vehicle than a pedestrian at the side of the road.
‘And, importantly, although certainly without intending for one moment to trivialise the extent of the destruction caused by the SEDA vehicle, that meant th
at he was permitted, under the rules governing these autonomous cars, to review messages on his mobile phone, send messages, make calls and carry out any tasks, without the need to pay due care and attention to the road.
‘If he had wished, my client could have composed an opera or written a play or chaired a meeting. The law, in its current form, does require him to sit in the driver’s seat but, as long as the car is operating in autonomous mode, and we say it was, that is all that is required of him and, if he was using his phone at the moment of impact, or shortly before, then he did nothing wrong.
‘I must also outline that my client was, himself, hurt in the collision. He suffered broken ribs and a head injury which led to concussion and then, to total loss of memory of the crash.
‘Now Ms Mansome will say that Mr Salisbury is faking, that he knows full well what happened, that this amnesia is not real. So we will call medical evidence to advise the court on this point, to confirm that Mr Salisbury is, indeed, suffering from amnesia in relation to the events of the afternoon of 10th October.
‘There is one thing which Ms Mansome said in her opening with which I wholeheartedly agree. And that is that I will be bringing into this case evidence about autonomous vehicles, their testing, their operation and their behaviour in complex situations. But I object to my learned friend’s characterisation of this important part of the case as smoke and mirrors as if it were some kind of deception.’ Judith paused and, with a hint of a huff, Celia half rose to her feet.
‘Your honour, perhaps it was an unfortunate turn of phrase. My intention was not to suggest that the defence or my learned friend would act in anything other than a perfectly proper way. If I were to substitute the word “smokescreen” would that allay my learned friend’s concerns?’
‘Not really, your honour, I…’
‘Ms Burton, I suggest you accept Ms Mansome’s revised terminology and move on. We have your point,’ the judge said coolly.
