Cut_Throat Defence

by Olly Jarvis

  The jurors stared disapprovingly at Jack to see if there was a reaction. He avoided their gaze.

  Otterwood, in the role of kindly grandfather, was a master. He closed his notebook and picked up a file of witness statements. ‘Without further ado I call the first witness, Officer Gordon Nesbitt, a surveillance officer at the loading of the drugs.’

  Bingham got to his feet as soon as Nesbitt had been sworn. ‘My Lord, I have no objection to my learned friend leading this witness. As far as Mr Rako is concerned, there is nothing controversial in his evidence.’

  Katterman spoke without getting up, before Bingham had even sat down. ‘And on behalf of Mr Purley.’

  Jack had to think quickly. He didn’t challenge the observations either, although he had to cross-examine about Marpit’s status. After a nervous pause that was just long enough to reveal his indecision, Jack spoke. ‘Yes, he can lead, My Lord.’

  Once Otterwood had led Nesbitt carefully through his witness statement, Bingham got to his feet, keeping his cross-examination short and tight, as was his style. ‘Officer, did you ever see Mr Rako in the vicinity of any controlled drugs?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Did you ever overhear him talking about drugs?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I know you are not the Officer in the Case, but I am sure I will be corrected if I am wrong about this – there was no trace of drugs found on any clothing belonging to Mr Rako, was there?’

  The officer looked to Otterwood for approval, before answering. ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘Now, officer, you know, don’t you, that forensic science has come a long way in recent years?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘NCA investigations often utilize the science of what is called “mass spec analysis”.’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘This involves testing banknotes for the presence of tiny particles that are invisible to the naked eye.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘By its very nature, drug dealing often involves large sums of money – always cash, to avoid detection.’

  ‘Yes, frequently.’

  ‘If somebody has been in contact with drug dealers, or indeed drugs, tiny particles can sometimes be detected on the banknotes in their possession, can they not?’

  ‘Yes, sometimes.’

  ‘Were all the notes found in Mr Rako’s pocket, and at his address, tested for controlled drugs?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘Were any tiny invisible traces found on them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘The packaging containing the drugs was tested for fingerprints was it not?’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘Were Mr Rako’s fingerprints found on any of them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes, thank you very much, Officer Nesbitt.’

  Bingham had known the answer to every question before he asked it.

  Katterman made a slow but dramatic rise to his lectern. ‘All of the answers that you have just given, do they apply equally to Mr Purley?’

  ‘They do.’

  ‘And Mr Marpit?’ asked Katterman matter-of-factly, almost as if he expected the same response.

  ‘No. Marpit was seen unloading drugs from the light aircraft. He was also in possession of banknotes that were impregnated with cocaine.’

  ‘And Marpit’s fingerprints?’

  ‘On the drug packaging.’

  ‘I see. Officer, I want to ask you about informants.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Agencies such as the NCA use informants?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Intelligence, which can come from informants, is an important part of crime detection?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Very rarely, members of the public are used as participating informants. By that I mean people that have authorization to take part in the commission of a crime?’

  ‘Yes, but can I please also emphasize that it is very rare indeed.’

  ‘Whatever type of informant someone is, there are very strict procedures that have to be followed, are there not?’

  ‘Yes, absolutely.’

  ‘The use of informants is now governed by a statute called the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act, which came into force in 2000?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Not wishing to venture too far into the history of this area of law if I can avoid it, officer, that Act was brought in because the whole process of using informants had to be properly regulated, to protect not only the informant but the officers also – from allegations by unscrupulous defendants?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘So now informants have to fill out and sign registration forms confirming that they have had certain advice. They are given trained handlers who also fill out forms, and all contact with the informant is recorded and entered into a log?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  Katterman paused for a moment to increase the impact of where this was all going. ‘I’m sure you and your colleagues have checked the relevant database to see whether Carl Marpit was a registered informant or a participating informant. Was he?’

  ‘There is no record of Carl Marpit ever being an informant, or a participating informant.’

  ‘To your knowledge, was he providing information to the NCA?’

  ‘Definitely not.’

  Katterman sat down.

  ‘Mr Kowalski?’ challenged the judge.

  Jack was thrown. He rummaged around in his head for a question. Eventually: ‘So can any old officer go browsing on the work computer for the names of all the informants registered with the NCA?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Do you have access?’

  The officer paused this time. ‘No.’

  ‘So you cannot say whether Marpit was a registered informant?’

  ‘No, but I have been told.’

  ‘That is hearsay, officer. This court is not interested in what you’ve been told, but what you know from your own enquiries.’ Jack knew it was a cheap point, because the officer who had searched for Marpit’s name on the computer would come to court and say it himself. But Jack was desperate.

  ‘Mr Kowalski,’ interposed the judge. ‘That was not a question, but an admonishment of the witness.’

  ‘My Lord.’ Jack sank back into his seat. Ticked off by the nice old judge, in front of the jury. A disastrous start to the trial.

  Otterwood re-examined. ‘Mr Nesbitt, reference was made to banknotes. How much cash was actually recovered from Mr Purley’s address?’

  ‘There was about fifty thousand pounds in the loft, wrapped in a bin liner.’

  ‘And Rako’s hotel room?’

  ‘About fifteen thousand pounds, My Lord.’

  The figures hit the jury hard.

  Bingham and Katterman were not going to have it all their own way.

  Otterwood then addressed the judge, ‘Does Your Lordship have any questions?’

  ‘No, thank you, officer. Please do not discuss your evidence with anyone.’

  Nesbitt left the witness box and sat in the public gallery.

  ‘My Lord,’ said Otterwood. ‘The next witness is Officer Blunt.’

  Bingham jumped up before the usher could even reach the door. ‘This witness can be read, My Lord.’

  ‘Agreed,’ signalled Katterman.

  This left Jack in a quandary. The officer’s evidence was certainly agreed, in that the observations he carried out were not challenged, but Jack felt duty-bound to ask every officer about Marpit’s status, especially since Marpit was absent. If he didn’t do so, then he really should have withdrawn.

  He had no choice but to press on. ‘I’m happy for the witness to be led, My Lord, but I do have one or two questions.’

  ‘Very well, call your witness, Mr Otterwood,’ sighed the judge.

  Otterwood took Blunt through his observations, many of which had been carried out with Nesbitt, and which the jury had already heard. It wa
s painful.

  Jack was desperate for the short adjournment so that he could have a break from the jury’s glare. Finally he got up to cross-examine, in the knowledge that it had to be worth waiting for. ‘Officer Blunt, to your knowledge was Carl Marpit providing information to the National Crime Agency?’

  ‘No. Not to my knowledge.’

  ‘If he was providing information to a single officer, you might never know that?’

  ‘I would, because if there was an informant in an operation I was involved in, I would almost certainly be told about it.’

  ‘If the informant was registered?’

  ‘They are all registered.’

  Jack sat down. It was the best he could do.

  The process was repeated for the third witness. The only difference being that examination-in-chief was a little more boring for everyone to sit through than the last one, if that were possible – all because of Jack’s insistence.

  Bingham had no questions, but this time Katterman did. ‘Officer, could you help the jury with this please? Why do members of the public become informants?’

  The officer thought for a moment. ‘Mainly for money, I suppose.’

  ‘So they get paid. Who by?’

  ‘There is a procedure whereby we get authorization from a superior who gets it from his superior.’

  ‘I think we get the picture, officer.’ Katterman laughed lightly, knowing he had the jury eating out of the palm of his hand. ‘But ultimately, is it the taxpayer who foots the bill?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is. The money comes from state funds.’

  ‘So hypothetically, if an informant was not registered, how would you get authorization for the money? Who would pay him?’

  ‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t. Not out of my wages.’

  The jury erupted with laughter.

  Chapter 38

  The luncheon adjournment couldn’t have come sooner for Jack.

  Reality had kicked in. The great sense of honour and purpose that Jack had enjoyed only a few hours ago was now a distant memory. Jack had to face Lara, not triumphant, but as a failure.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lara…’

  She interrupted him. ‘Stop it, Jack. You stayed in the case.’ Then, she added with more intimacy, ‘I was wrong about you.’

  Jack’s heart soared.

  ‘Now listen, about this morning’s performance,’ she bossed. ‘You are doing the best you can with what you’ve got.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ve got to run a few errands for Ken at the court office,’ she told him. ‘Go and clear your head. You’ve got it all again this afternoon.’

  He sat down once more, feeling drained. He needed help, or at least some advice. As always, that would come from his old pupil-master. Although training had finished, a bond had developed between them that meant Jack knew he could always rely on Simon. He didn’t need to telephone him. At lunchtime, he was invariably gorging himself in Romek’s.

  * * *

  Huntsman was sitting alone at his favourite table sipping some zupa with a spoon. A napkin, neatly tucked into his collar, seemed tiny when set against his large frame. He was another example of a barrister who wore a waistcoat – less as a fashion statement, more as a corset. His voice boomed, ‘Ah! The warrior returns.’

  Jack went through the agonizing tale of his performance in court that morning.

  Simon put down his spoon. ‘Jack, my dear fellow, you must understand that you have a huge advantage over the other counsel in the case.’

  Jack was surprised to be told that. ‘I do?’

  ‘Of course. With the greatest of respect, you are a young, inexperienced, incompetent, nervous fool. They are brilliant barristers at the top of their game.’

  Jack didn’t get it.

  ‘How is that an advantage?’

  ‘Ah, dear boy, everyone loves an underdog. You must take this jury with you on your adventure. Let them see your pain. Keep putting your case, bravely forging on. Every time Katterman tries to kick you, let him stamp you into the ground. The jury will empathize. They’ll feel so sorry for you until they’ll eventually be willing you on, praying that you find something on which to hang your case, to put you out of your misery.’

  Simon had a knack of making things sound so simple.

  ‘But what if I don’t find that one point to hang my case on?’

  ‘Then you’re fucked.’

  Chapter 39

  The courtroom was bustling with people preparing for the judge’s entrance, legal teams having intense discussions and the press preparing copy.

  ‘Everything OK, Jack?’ asked Lara.

  ‘Yes, I’ve just been to see Simon for some advice.’

  ‘Did he have any?’

  ‘He told me to be pathetic and useless.’

  ‘That’s a tall order for you, Jack,’ she said with a smile.

  The afternoon session followed suit. Jack put his case to officer after officer. This time though, he didn’t try to hide his nerves or his embarrassment.

  The last witness of the afternoon was NCA officer, Vincent Blanchard. Katterman, who had asked no questions so far, put one last boot in.

  ‘Officer, you made a witness statement about these events didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes I did, My Lord.’

  ‘It is obviously impossible to remember every detail, so a contemporaneous log is created as the surveillance takes place?’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  ‘The way that works is that if an officer makes an observation, he will radio it through to the dedicated loggist?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The loggist keeps a written running log of each event in a log book, noting when it was made and who observed it?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘After the surveillance operation has finished, all the officers attend a debriefing, the log is checked and any errors are noted and signed by the relevant officer?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘Your statement was made several days after these events occurred?’

  ‘Yes, I think that’s right.’

  ‘In your witness statement, Carl Marpit is described as “the man I now know to be Carl Marpit”.’

  ‘Yes, because when I observed him I didn’t know his name.’

  ‘Exactly. I have extracted copies of the original observation logs that have been disclosed to us, My Lord.’

  The judge gave a nod of approval.

  ‘Officer, Marpit is referred to in the logs as an “unknown male”. Does it follow then, at the debriefs as well, that nobody knew who Marpit was?’

  ‘That’s right, sir. We didn’t find out his name until after he’d been arrested.’

  ‘Obviously, if he’d been an informant, you would have known his name?’

  ‘Yes sir, of course, but he wasn’t an informant.’

  Katterman sat down. Another clever cross-examination, but Jack had hoped someone would take this line at some point. It opened the door on something bigger.

  Jack rose to his feet. ‘I’ve also been trying to make sense of these logs, officer. I wonder if you could help me.’ Jack tried to sound as helpless as possible. ‘Both Purley and Rako are always named in the logs.’

  Katterman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  ‘Yes, they were.’

  ‘So they were always targets in this operation?’

  Katterman leapt to his feet. ‘I don’t know where my young friend is going with this, but it’s wholly inappropriate.’

  ‘Oh I’m so sorry, My Lord, I didn’t realize I couldn’t ask that question.’

  ‘No, I will allow this line of cross-examination,’ said His Lordship. ‘It was you that opened it up, Mr Katterman. I’m afraid you’ve made your bed.’

  ‘Thank you, My Lord,’ said Jack humbly.

  Bingham shot Katterman a look that demonstrated his displeasure at such a basic error.

  Jack continued. ‘Officer, as I was saying, you always knew, right
from the first observation, the names of Rako and Purley? They were the targets?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Targets don’t just appear out of thin air. It’s a big decision to start a surveillance operation. Costs money?’

  ‘Yes, it does.’

  ‘This was called Operation Lion’s Paw?’

  ‘Yes, it was.’

  ‘I won’t ask you who came up with that name.’

  The jury tittered.

  ‘These operations invariably start as a result of intelligence which can be either internal, or as a result of informant information?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You must have had intelligence in relation to Rako and Purley’s activities?’

  ‘Yes, we did.’

  Katterman and Bingham were squirming in their seats. ‘Are you able to tell me the source of that information?’

  The officer glanced nervously at Otterwood, who rose to his feet.

  ‘My Lord, that is the subject of public interest immunity. The jury will appreciate that there are certain matters which cannot be released into the public domain, for operational reasons.’

  The judge nodded. ‘Of course, Mr Otterwood. Thank you for that. You don’t have to answer that question, officer.’

  Jack remained standing for a moment ‒ to hammer home to the jury that the prosecution were keeping secrets. At last Jack had done something in the case. ‘I have no further questions, My Lord,’ he said, trying to sound as defeated as possible by the brick wall he had just encountered. In fact, he was thrilled.

  Chapter 40

  It felt strange to go part heard. Jack had never been in a trial where the evidence had actually gone into a second day. He felt like a proper barrister.

  He was alone in the robing room when Lionel Katterman walked in. Neither man spoke as they took off their bands. The great Katterman had been silenced.