by Olly Jarvis
‘Yes.’
‘The judge knows that if he transfers legal aid, the case would have to be adjourned to give your new QC time to read them. This judge hates delay.’
‘You can say you’ll be ready in time for the trial on Monday.’
‘But I wouldn’t be and I couldn’t give that undertaking for my leader.’
‘No QCs. I’ve just got rid of one arsehole. I don’t want another. You can defend me. Get the legal aid transferred, get bail, then we’ll talk.’
Jack gathered his thoughts. Things were moving too fast; he was being sucked in and needed to extricate himself quickly. ‘Mr Marpit, you need to listen to me. I would love to take your case, but I can’t. Firstly, my code of conduct states quite clearly that I cannot take a case that is beyond my competence. I’m not even experienced enough to act as a led junior in this case, let alone the leader. The way I see it you have two choices: the first and preferred option is to stick with your eminent legal team. The second is to ask the judge to transfer the representation order so that another team can be instructed in the hope of being ready on Monday.’
‘What about bail?’
‘No judge in a million years would bail a defendant in a case like this, three days before trial.’
Marpit got up and started pacing the cell, manically brushing his hand across his forehead and over the top of his bald head. ‘Is your family in the profession then?’
Jack laughed. ‘I wish. My father is a tailor from Krakow. My mother is dead.’
‘And yours?’ Marpit nodded towards Lara.
‘Both dead. When I was a child, in a car crash.’
Jack was distracted by the revelation. He wanted to know more about her.
Marpit got up and faced him. He took a deep breath. ‘If I don’t get bail, you can be sure as night follows day I will be dead by tomorrow morning.’
Jack’s heart beat faster. He was going to have to get involved in some way today. With an air of resignation he removed his wig, dropped it on the table and patted Marpit’s arm lightly. ‘Come on. Sit down. Tell me about your case.’
Marpit sat down. Lara took out her notepad. Marpit quickly placed his hand on it and shook his head. ‘No notes, not today.’
Jack nodded to Lara to indicate his agreement.
She put down her pen.
Marpit took a deep breath. ‘I am a participating informant.’ He waited for it to sink in. ‘I was arrested unloading a plane full of cocaine that had flown in from Venezuela via Spain. Literally tonnes of the stuff. They say the value was hundreds of millions of pounds. The biggest ever seizure of drugs in the UK. I was a paid informant, paid by the National Crime Agency to infiltrate a drugs gang and provide them with information. The NCA approached me because I knew some of them. They’re known as The District. From west London.’
‘London?’
‘Yeah. That’s where I lived, before I got nicked. Back in the day, I was a little sod. I got to know everyone. Grew up with Purley. He’s another defendant in the trial. But I haven’t been in trouble since I was a kid. I’m a taxi driver now. They paid me money to get involved. I needed it to pay off gambling debts, owed to some very bad people. NCA knew that. They knew I was, how do you say – vulnerable? They said I was working for them; nothing would happen to me when it all came on top. I told them about the bloody plane coming in. I was supposed to just slip away, but they arrested me.’ Marpit shook his head in disbelief.
Jack didn’t know what to think. Was this the truth?
Marpit went on, ‘I kept waitin’ for ’em to release me, but they didn’t. Then I got charged. I couldn’t believe it. I had a mobile number for my handler – “Wolfy”. I don’t know his real name. I’ve been ringin’ the number when I can use the phone but it’s unobtainable.’ He paused then said to himself out loud, ‘They’ve done me up, good and proper.’
‘So why did they arrest you then?’ asked Lara, making it obvious she needed more convincing.
Marpit stared at her, trying to find an answer in her face.
‘I just don’t know. It don’t make sense.’
‘So you’ve not mentioned any of this to anyone from the NCA? In your interview?’ asked Jack.
‘When I got nicked – on the airfield – I told the officer in charge. He’s been at some hearings – Finch. He just laughed, then gave me a kickin’. But he knew my name.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ said Jack. ‘You might have been under surveillance for some time. Maybe all the defendants.’ But Jack was being drawn in. ‘Did you meet Wolfy in person?’
‘Yes, the first time I met him was in my local boozer. He said Purley and his people were bringin’ in drugs. He told me to go and ask the lads if I could earn some serious money. So that’s what I did. After that he would just turn up at the pub sometimes and give me cash. Askin’ questions about what I knew and what I’d been doin’.’
‘There’s a world of difference between an informant and a participating informant.’
‘I know that,’ insisted Marpit.
Jack wasn’t going to let it go. ‘Just because the NCA are paying you for information doesn’t mean you can commit crime. Authorization to participate is very rare.’
‘I know, I know. He told me I was authorized. They wanted me to get involved.’
‘Did he have a car? Did anyone else meet him? Can you describe him?’
‘I don’t know if he had a car, no one else met him. He was in his fifties, sixties. Very posh. A suit. He had a big mole on his forehead. And a moustache. Carried a briefcase. Even had his watch on a chain. A real toff.’
‘But why you? Even with your connections. Why approach a member of the public out of the blue like that?’
‘I really don’t know.’
They all sat silently for a while.
Jack broke the silence. ‘What did Rogers say? You have told your solicitor and barristers this?’
‘This mornin’. I kept waiting and waiting because I thought the case would be dropped against me. I couldn’t risk tellin’ ’em I was a grass. But I had to, because Rogers was sayin’ to plead guilty today; to get a little bit of time off my sentence. Said he could keep it down to fifteen and that I would only have to serve half. Said he would get the prosecution to accept that I was just a foot soldier. Please ‒ I can’t do that sort of time. I’ve got to get out for my daughter. She hasn’t got anyone else.’ He stopped. Then, ‘You see, Rogers thinks I’m talking bollocks. He said the NCA wouldn’t be that snide and he won’t run that as a defence. They are all the same, these QCs. Probably prosecutes cases for the NCA all day long. He’s not gonna say in court that they’re liars, just to help me, is he?’
Marpit was right about Rogers’ practice. He specialized in prosecuting drug importations.
‘I do understand your predicament. I really do, but why the urgency about bail today?’
‘They’re on to me. They know ‒ Rako and Purley. I don’t know how but they know. I had a feeling in the van with ’em this morning. Then I got a note through the hatch after my con with Rogers.’
‘What did it say?’
Marpit’s fear was unmistakable now. ‘Dead.’ He waited for a reaction. ‘You don’t believe any of this, do you?’
‘Mr Marpit. It doesn’t matter what I believe, I have taken an oath. I would have to put your case to a jury with my best endeavours, regardless of my personal views. Incidentally, so would Rogers. A prison officer must have been involved in that note?’
‘I don’t think you understand. These people run the prison system. They can do what they like. Purley is part of a very big drug-dealin’ operation. Rako is the Venezuelan contact.’
Jack thought for a moment about the implications of what Marpit had told him. ‘Let me get this straight, Mr Marpit. Leaving aside the question of bail for a minute, and assuming what is likely, that the prosecution deny any knowledge of your status, you want me to go into court on Monday morning and run the defence that you were a pa
rticipating informant, working for the National Crime Agency, giving information about the involvement of, amongst others, drug dealers Rako and Purley?’
Marpit examined Jack’s face, then Lara’s, before answering, ‘Yes.’
‘You realize that you are not just asserting that you are innocent, but it follows that you are saying that Rako and Purley are guilty?’
‘Yes.’
Jack gulped and said out loud, in sudden realization, ‘A cut-throat defence!’ He stood up, feeling an urge to get some air, to get out of the cell. ‘Look, Mr Marpit…’
‘What do you mean? A cut-throat defence?’
‘I mean the defendants blame each other. So I would not only have to cope with the prosecution barristers trying to convict you, but with the crossfire from counsel for the other defendants as well. Carl, I’ve got to think about this and discuss it with Miss Panassai. I can’t do that with you staring at me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
‘You better ’ad, cos we’re on at two-fifteen,’ said Marpit.
Jack checked his watch. It was nearly two o’clock.
Chapter 10
Once outside the cells, Jack started pacing. ‘This is insane. I feel bad but we’ve got to walk away from this, haven’t we?’
Lara was calm. ‘Why? What have we got to lose? More importantly, what have you got to lose? You’re either thrown out of chambers today or you get struck off for incompetence in a few weeks’ time, at the end of the trial. At least you’ll get paid for the case.’
Jack tried in vain to force a smile. ‘Lara, you don’t realize I’ve only been on my feet a few months. All I do is Mags’ stuff. Dangerous dogs and animal cruelty.’
‘Believe me, I had worked that out,’ she replied. ‘Listen, Jack. Most barristers spend a lifetime at the Bar and never get the opportunity to do a case like this. Don’t pass it up. You’ll always regret it.’ She shot him a mischievous smile. ‘Go out with a bang.’
Of course she was right. But he was too scared. He stood still for a moment and tried to control his breathing. ‘You don’t understand, Lara. They will all laugh at me in court. It won’t work.’
She continued. ‘This man has asked you to represent him. Forget everyone else. Fuck the lot of them.’
She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
‘Wait here, Lara, please. I need to think…’
Jack went into the toilets, leaned over the sink and vomited. He hauled himself up, wiped away the sick from round his mouth and stared into the mirror. He thought about his life. Unable to speak English when he first went to school because his parents had always spoken Polish at home, he’d been bullied at school but stuck it out, determined not to let his family down. Life wasn’t really enjoyable until he went to university. And even then there was always the personal pressure to succeed. Scraping the grades to get into Bar School, he had, to his amazement, passed the Bar Finals. Working as a waiter and occasional pianist for two years in his uncle’s restaurant, Romek’s, to pay off some of his debts, he lived in the hope of one day securing a pupillage.
Whilst waiting tables he had a stroke of luck. One of the barristers at Century Buildings, Simon Huntsman, used to eat regularly at Romek’s. Jack overheard him talking about his cases, and then spent the next few months persuading Huntsman to let him shadow for a week as a ‘mini-pupil’. Eventually Huntsman had agreed. Jack’s enthusiasm and Simon’s support got him a full twelve months. It hadn’t gone well. Yet Jack knew he could be a good barrister if he could only control his nerves.
Decision time.
He was back by five past two.
Lara was still waiting outside the cells.
Jack watched her for a moment. ‘Right, I’ll do it. Let’s go and tell him,’ he said firmly. Was he facing his fear of the courtroom to help this man? Or was it for her? His head was spinning.
‘Jack, you’d better clean that puke off your cuff first. It doesn’t instill confidence.’
Chapter 11
‘Carl,’ said Jack, ‘we’ll take the case, but only if the judge allows the transfer of the rep order to us. I’ll tell you now, the only way you have even a miniscule chance of bail is if we tell the judge what your defence is and that your life is in danger. Once we’ve done that, whether we get bail or not, there’s no going back.’
‘I understand.’
‘You do realize that even if I managed to get bail, your chances of winning the trial are very slim? If you lose, you’d go back to jail where everyone would know you as a grass. If by some miracle you get off, you’ll be running for the rest of your life.’
Marpit didn’t need to respond, he’d thought about it many times.
Jack continued. ‘Our aim is to get the prosecution to admit you were an authorized participating informant and for the judge to stop the case against you as an abuse of process.’
‘Sounds easy,’ said Marpit sarcastically.
‘It won’t be. If no one from the NCA has admitted your status yet, they aren’t likely to now ‒ or in the witness box. And with no evidence of you working for them, the judge will not stop the case. Then we’d be left with the jury. Unless there was some reliable evidence that you at least believed you were a participating informant, they’d convict you. Do you understand?’
‘I think so. You are saying if I don’t win this on a legal argument, I won’t be acquitted by the jury either, because I did the crime?’
‘Yes, pretty much. I’ll try and do the bail app in chambers, in the absence of the other defendants and their barristers, but the judge will probably refuse. If he does, I will have to make it in open court.’
‘OK.’ He paused. ‘And thank you.’
‘Have you got any money, Carl?’
Carl was shocked. Then a sneer crept across his face. ‘Oh, I get it. A backhander. The legal aid not enough?’
‘Not for me, you idiot,’ said Jack. ‘To pay for a hotel room if you get bail. We’ve got a weekend to prepare for trial. We need your instructions. You’re not going back to London.’
Marpit was embarrassed. ‘Oh, right, I see. Yes, I’ve got a credit card in my property,’ he said, referring to the prisoner’s bag of possessions that follow him around the prison system.
‘Good. We have to move quickly, so I’ll leave you with Miss Panassai now to fill out the relevant forms and take some more instructions. I’ll go and speak to the prosecution.’
Lara was impressed. Jack seemed almost in control.
Marpit wrote down his daughter’s name and telephone number on Lara’s pad. ‘Tell her to go to the safe place. She’ll know where.’
Lara agreed to pass on the message.
As Jack went to leave, he stopped. Without looking round he said softly, ‘Mr Marpit, you do realize what our chances are?’
‘I know,’ he replied. ‘Just do your best.’
Chapter 12
The court was already in session. Not a seat to be had. Counsels’ rows were full, as were the rows for solicitors and their clerks. Forced to stand at the back of the court, at the side of the dock, Jack’s stomach was tying itself in knots.
Daniel Rogers, QC, was on his feet, in full flow. ‘We ask for the court’s indulgence until Monday morning, My Lord. That would give the defendant time to calm down and perhaps reflect.’
‘Well, I suppose that does seem the most sensible course. I don’t think I have much choice,’ said Mr Justice Skart, clearly irritated.
It made sense to Jack too; here was a way out. Turning back to Lara he shrugged ‒ a fait accompli. She smiled at him. She lifted her hand, brushed the palm against his cheek then shook her head like a mother telling off her child. ‘You can do this, Jack. I believe in you.’
Jack felt the electricity in her touch shoot around his body.
He was smitten.
She moved him round so that he was facing the judge again, and gave him an almighty push. It caught the attention of some of the journalists in the press box. Jack regained his balance and
blurted out, ‘My Lord.’
The judge didn’t hear him as Rogers continued his submission.
Jack cleared his throat. ‘My Lord.’
‘One moment, Mr Rogers,’ said the judge, scanning the courtroom. ‘Who is that?’
Rogers turned round, outraged by the interruption, then sat down.
‘My Lord,’ stuttered Jack. Do or die, he thought. Do or die. He straightened up. You can do this. She believes in me. Me. ‘My name is Jack Kowalski.’
‘Well, come forward, what is it?’ asked the judge.
‘Mr Marpit has dispensed with the services of Mr Rogers and his legal team. My Lord, Mr Marpit’s loss of confidence in his legal representatives is so fundamental that it cannot now be remedied. He wishes to transfer his representation to Dobkin and Co., who in turn have instructed me to make this application, My Lord.’ Having Lara close behind him seemed to make a difference.
Everyone was stunned. Who was this Jack Kowalski to question the abilities of someone like Daniel Rogers, QC, and to try and poach his client? The press loved it, hurriedly scribbling in shorthand on to their notepads.
‘Assuming I’m minded to allow the transfer, which I am not, Mr Kowalski, leading and junior counsel would need time to prepare the case. The matter would have to be adjourned, would it not?’
Was Jack beaten already? Think. Think. ‘No, My Lord. I can give the court my assurance that we will be ready to start the trial on Monday morning. A qualified solicitor from Dobkin & Co. will be allocated exclusively to the preparation and conduct of this matter until its conclusion, My Lord. As far as counsel is concerned, I am instructed to represent the defendant as sole counsel.’
The judge leaned forward, peered over his spectacles and spoke in a more conciliatory tone, ‘With the greatest of respect, Mr Kowalski, do you not feel that even someone of your intellect might require the assistance – albeit limited – of Queen’s Counsel?’
The court fell about laughing.They were all laughing at Jack.
Everyone turned to look: back from the well of the court, and sideways from the press box and public gallery on the other side of the courtroom. They all wanted to see how this young barrister would respond.
