Unconvicted

by Olly Jarvis

  ‘And did you have sex?’

  ‘Yes. I got on the bed behind her and we make love.’

  ‘Did she say anything?’

  ‘Oh yes. She was shouting “yes” and “deeper”.’

  ‘And was her body moving?’

  ‘Yes she was moving all around, like animal. Pulling, like pretending she trying to break free. But moaning all time and shouting “yes”.’

  ‘These next questions are very important, so take your time. Did she ever say “no”?’

  ‘She never say,’ Gustaw replied.

  ‘Did she ever say “stop”?’

  ‘She never say. I…’ He held up his hand as if taking an oath. ‘I swear, she enjoy very much.’

  The innocence of the gesture was powerful.

  ‘A clear and impressive account, Mr Kowalski. Wouldn’t you agree?’ asked Statham, keen to hear the young barrister’s take on the case.

  ‘Yes, very clear,’ he replied. Jack felt it important to show he was behind the client and his defence. ‘It certainly explains the wrist injuries.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Statham. ‘There is apparently some CCTV from the club. The prosecution will give it to us tomorrow, at the pre-trial review.

  ‘Good. Just one more question for now, Gustaw. Why did she leave? Looking at the timings, she was running down Deansgate only minutes after you had sex.’

  Gustaw blushed. ‘I ask her to leave. Actually, I told her. My girlfriend was coming from Poland in the morning.’

  ‘You have a girlfriend?’

  ‘Yes, we grew up together. I love her.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I was stupid.’

  ‘I see,’ said Jack, mulling over the implications.

  ‘It doesn’t look good, does it, Mr Kowalski?’ Nowak asked, desperate for reassurance.

  ‘It could explain why she claimed it was rape,’ offered Statham. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’

  Jack didn’t comment.

  ‘Mr Kowalski,’ said Boswell. ‘We took the first trial date we could get – none of the clubs will go near Gustaw with this hanging over him.’ He took a cigar out of his inside jacket pocket and put it in his mouth then fished around for his lighter.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Boswell – it’s a no smoking chambers,’ said Jack.

  Statham chuckled.

  ‘But just over a week away – are we ready?’ Jack asked. ‘Seems to me there are a few more enquiries to be made, and hopefully some unused material that might throw up something, especially about the complainant.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Statham. ‘We’re already on it.’

  Gustaw had other things on his mind: ‘Mr Kowalski. If we lose. What will happen?’

  Boswell intervened: ‘It won’t come to that.’

  Jack wasn’t going to side-step the question. ‘The usual sentence for rape, after a trial, is five years in prison. It could be as much as eight if the judge comes to the conclusion that serious violence was used.’

  Gustaw was visibly shocked.

  Jack followed up with the only good news: ‘You would only serve half the sentence, though. The rest would be on licence – in England.’

  ‘But I would be finished. No more football.’

  There was no answer to that.

  Chapter 20

  As they filed out, Statham signalled to Jack to hang back. Once they were alone, Statham closed the door. ‘That was a good performance, Jack, considering your call. Only about a year, isn’t it?’

  ‘Thanks,’ Jack replied, unsure if it was a compliment.

  ‘I’ve got nothing against you personally.’ He placed a patronizing hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘Actually, I like you. But are you ready to play with the big boys?’

  Jack didn’t know how to reply.

  ‘I’ve obviously made my own enquiries. I know you had one big win, but that’s it. Then you’ve been off for months with emotional difficulties. This case is going to be a big news story, very intense. You’re going to have to rip that girl to pieces in the box.’ He stared intently at Jack. ‘Are you up to it?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard, but—’

  Statham removed his hand. ‘Look sonny, forget the bullshit. Nowak wants you. He’s paying the bills, but I’ve got a reputation to protect. You know damn well that whatever little warnings you gave to Nowak in con, you can’t take the brief if you consider it beyond your competence.’

  Statham was right. But despite Jack’s fragile state, the case was taking his mind off the demons jumping around in his head. And it would show Lara that he wasn’t washed up. He could do a good job, maybe even win it. He would focus on this one case, prepare it for trial like no other. ‘I’m fully aware of my duties, Mr Statham, and I will be defending Gustaw Nowak. I appreciate you are just doing your job, now let me do mine.’

  Nonplussed by the confidence of Jack’s response, Statham left the room.

  Jack exhaled slowly. Was he going to regret this?

  Chapter 21

  PC Khan found Jammer in his office, rummaging through a pile of paperwork. Delivering the news in person was the least Khan could do.

  Jammer looked up on hearing the tap on the door. Someone had written ‘Gaffer’ on the glass in marker pen. ‘Oh, it’s you. I’m guessing bad news?’

  Khan nodded. ‘I did my best. Bail refused, the Custody Sergeant was having none of it. Didn’t help having DS Baker as the Officer in the Case. Not the most compassionate woman.’

  ‘This is going to screw the apprenticeship, the job, everything we’ve worked for.’

  ‘Mate, he did it to himself.’

  Jammer shook his head. ‘Something’s not right. I just don’t believe he’d be that stupid. He’d turned a corner.’

  ‘Sure that’s not just blind faith?’

  Jammer shrugged.

  Another tap on the door. ‘Only me.’ Lara could see PC Khan had beaten her to it. She edged into the room, careful not to come into contact with the various greasy car parts that had found their way in from the workshop.

  ‘Adil’s just told me,’ Jammer said to Lara. ‘Adil, what happened to innocent until proven guilty?’

  Khan decided not to get into that debate. ‘Lara,’ he said. ‘Sorry about Baker at the interview. She can be a bit over the top sometimes.’

  ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘She won’t be the last, but thanks for saying.’

  There was an uneasy silence as Lara and Jammer waited for Khan to leave.

  ‘Well, I’ll be off, then’ said Khan, uncomfortable being in the vicinity of a defence solicitor for too long, lest any of the lads should think he was on the wrong side. ‘Chin up, Jammer. On to the next one and all that.’

  Jammer tried to raise a smile as his old friend left.

  Lara shut the door. ‘It would help if I had a defence. He hasn’t told me anything.’

  Jammer took some papers off a chair and brushed it off with his hand. ‘Maybe he’s covering for someone?’

  Lara sat down. ‘Come off it, Jammer. They’ve got his blood at the scene.’

  Jammer swept his dreads up over his head. ‘Let’s see what happens with the VIPER.’

  ‘But if he gets picked out, no one will believe he wasn’t there. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.’

  ‘All right, I’ll go and see him. Where will they take him?’

  ‘Forest Bank.’

  Jammer shuddered. ‘Can’t you get him out?’

  ‘No chance, there’s an old man in intensive care, attacked in his own home.’

  ‘What about the fucker that raped his Mrs? He got bail, then he killed her. Who got ’im out?’

  ‘A very junior barrister called Jack Kowalski. He got lucky,’ she added, seeing the irony.

  ‘Yeah? Well, we need a bit of luck. Can you get him?’

  She allowed herself a wry smile. ‘I doubt it, but I’ll try.’

  Chapter 22

  ‘Tata?’ Jack called out on his way up the stairs.

&n
bsp; Mariusz was in the kitchen, boiling a large saucepan of soup. ‘Siedziec,’ he ordered, waving Jack to sit at the small table pushed against the wall. Spoons and crockery were already laid out on a white lace tablecloth.

  ‘How are you, Tata? Been busy this week?’ Jack asked, taking his usual seat.

  ‘You know, getting hard to see, my eyes not so good,’ he replied, walking into the lounge. A tea towel draped over his shoulder, ladle in one hand, pan in the other, Mariusz scooped the contents into two bowls.

  Jack watched his father’s trembling fingers struggle with the task and wondered how he managed to thread a needle. ‘Tata, you’ve hardly got any. Here, take some of mine,’ he said, reaching for the ladle.

  ‘Shoosh,’ Mariusz replied, pushing his arm away. He sat down and gave Jack the disapproving glance his son knew so well. ‘You said you would come this morning?’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry, Tata. I had stuff to do. Next week, I promise.’

  ‘You never go, lately. You know your mother would not like. She always go to Mass.’

  ‘Did she?’ Jack snapped. ‘Didn’t do her much good.’

  ‘Janusz!’

  ‘Sorry, forget it.’ Jack put a hand over his father’s and squeezed. ‘Next Sunday, OK?’

  Mariusz mumbled something, then shifted his attention to his spoon.

  ‘Tata, you know that Gustaw Nowak case?’

  ‘Yes, that is all anybody talk about after church today.’

  ‘That he’s being tried for rape?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mariusz replied, blowing onto the spoon. ‘First great player we have for thirty years, and then this,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Typical.’

  ‘I’m defending him.’

  Mariusz choked then patted his chest. ‘You?’

  ‘Yes, pretty amazing, eh? He wanted a Polish speaker.’

  ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got to toughen up.’

  ‘That is good, but a case like this? Every day on Polish TV.’

  ‘Don’t you think I’m up to it?’

  ‘Of course, you are a Kowalski,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘I surprised, that all.’ Mariusz reflected for a moment. ‘It big responsibility – everyone say he innocent.’

  ‘I know, you’re right. I’m probably not in any shape to do this right now. To be honest, maybe I only accepted it to try and impress Lara.’

  ‘I see.’ Mariusz gripped the back of Jack’s neck, gently pulling it from side to side. ‘At least you thinking about love and living again.’

  ‘But what if I lose? Sounds like the whole of Poland are depending on me, never mind Nowak.’

  Mariusz moved his hand down Jack’s back and patted gently. ‘Then he guilty,’ Mariusz offered, trying to lessen the burden.

  ‘It’s possible, but my instincts say he isn’t, even though I have nothing much to go on. What are they saying at church?’

  ‘Oh, they know nothing, they idiots. They say maybe girl is City fan.’

  ‘I don’t buy that,’ he replied. He was sure there was more to it, but he had so little time to find out what.

  ‘Do you like him?’

  Jack was surprised by the question. ‘Huntsman says I shouldn’t think about clients that way.’

  Mariusz didn’t press him, but Jack felt the need to add something.

  ‘I hope he’s innocent, I mean, he’s just a kid.’

  ‘With whole life ahead as superstar,’ observed Mariusz. ‘Or as rapist.’

  Jack already knew the implications.

  ‘Big pressure, Janusz. Big pressure.’

  Chapter 23

  The sun found its way between the buildings, waking up the city. The cafes in Spinningfields slowly came to life, with people sitting outside even in the early morning chill. Jack loved the excitement of spring in Manchester, but his thoughts were elsewhere. It was his first court appearance in weeks. He was terrified, and what a case to come back to. The photographers and cameramen saw him from a hundred yards, long lenses at the ready. Jack kept his head down and pushed through the throng towards the Court entrance. Nowak would also have to run this gauntlet, he thought.

  Jack spotted a friendly face in the crowd – Jim Smith from the Manchester Evening News. They acknowledged each other. ‘Good to have you back,’ Jim shouted as Jack fought his way past.

  Jack appreciated the comment, but it did little to untie the knots in his stomach.

  As he crossed the concourse outside the courtrooms, memories came flooding back. Highs and lows, the nervous energy of his first trial, that fateful bail application. He tried to focus on the day ahead.

  He took a deep breath before entering the robing room. He found an empty spot, took off his collar and tie and put a new, crisp, white wing-collar on the stud. As he tied the bands around the back, he felt his hands shaking.

  ‘Hello Jack,’ boomed a familiar voice.

  It was Simon Huntsman. ‘Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee.’

  Jack smiled. The timing was perfect. His old pupil-master knew better than anyone how to keep Jack calm before a hearing. They walked through to the advocates’ canteen.

  Jack flicked through the brief while Huntsman banged and cursed at the coffee machine, which had eaten his change without dispensing any hot water. After hitting it a few more times, he gave up and waddled over to Jack. ‘I’ve heard who you’re against, old chap.’

  Jack stopped what he was doing. ‘Who is it?’ Jack could see from Huntsman’s face that it wasn’t good news. ‘Well, go on, who?’

  ‘It’s Boudica.’

  Jack closed his eyes. ‘Of course, it had to be.’

  Given the nickname ‘Boudica’ because of her long red hair and single-mindedness, Gylda McVey was a fearsome advocate and undoubtedly Manchester’s most formidable sexual offences silk. Her dogged determination and the way she bounced and bullied her opponents made her a brilliant and exhausting adversary.

  ‘You’ll be fine, just play to your strengths.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Jack replied, ‘you mean youth and inexperience? Got a feeling that won’t get me very far.’

  ‘Just stand your ground, don’t let her boss you.’

  ‘Don’t let her boss me? She’s a QC!’ Jack checked his watch. ‘I better get robed.’

  ‘Better had,’ Huntsman replied. ‘Best o’ luck.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll need it.’

  As he came out of the lift onto the concourse, he saw a couple of reporters milling about, as well as a nervous Gustaw Nowak in a suit, flanked by Statham and Boswell, pacing up and down outside Court Three. It struck Jack again just how young his client was. At only eighteen, he’d had the world at his feet, the promise of thousands of pounds in wages every week, and the adulation of the whole of Poland. Could he really have been so stupid as to risk it all?

  ‘Just had this from the CPS,’ said Statham, handing Jack a disc. ‘CCTV from a few cameras on the night.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘We’ve got an expert on standby, in case you want anything enhanced.’

  Jack wasn’t used to this kind of service. Getting authorization for such work for his legally aided clients took months. ‘Anything from our investigator?’

  ‘She’s a slapper. Spoken to a few ex-boyfriends, likes it kinky. Done some glamour work in the past, all very small-time. She’s a wannabe.’

  ‘Not sure any of that’s admissible,’ Jack replied, cringing. He was experienced enough to know that employing old-fashioned terms like “slapper” or “asking for it” in front of the jury would be curtains for the defence.

  Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Jack’s client adjusted his tie in the way of people who only wear suits to weddings and funerals. ‘You OK, Gustaw?’ he asked, just as the usher came out to call on the case.

  Too anxious to even hear the question, Statham replied for him: ‘He’s fine,’ he said, patting his client on the back.

  Jack wondered how the defendant would cope under cross-examination.


  The team went into court and Jack took his seat on counsel’s row. Instinctively, he looked to his left for his opponent. Placing a laptop on her lectern, prosecution counsel Gylda McVey gave Jack a steely stare.

  Statham leaned forward and whispered in Jack’s ear: ‘They’ve got a silk. Hope you’re up to this?’

  ‘All rise!’

  On seeing the imposing figure of Mr Justice Skart, Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He recalled his coming of age as an advocate in Skart’s court. This time he hoped he was fully prepared for the hearing.

  The usher stood up. ‘Are you Gustaw Nowak?’

  An anxious: ‘Yes.’

  Gylda McVey introduced the case. ‘My Lord, I prosecute, Mr Kowalski defends, this is a pre-trial review for the trial which is due to start next week. The Crown is trial ready.’

  Pleased with McVey’s disclosure, Skart acknowledged her with a rare smile then turned his attention to her opponent: ‘Mr Kowalski?’

  Jack jumped up. ‘My Lord?’

  Without a flicker of recognition or memory of Jack’s past victory: ‘Why have you not registered on the digital case system?’

  Jack looked at him blankly.

  ‘This court went digital months ago. It cannot operate if counsel cannot be bothered to log on and engage.’

  Only away for a few months, and Jack was already hopelessly out of date with procedures. He cursed himself for failing to check. Why hadn’t Statham mentioned it was a digital case? Had he hoped Jack would look a fool in front of Nowak, so the client would see sense and sack him?

  ‘I’m sorry, My Lord,’ Jack replied, squirming at his own apology. ‘I will log on and complete the relevant forms straight after this hearing.’

  His Lordship harrumphed. ‘Since you haven’t been on the system, we don’t know if you are trial ready, Mr Kowalski?’

  Jack could see McVey in his peripheral vision, enjoying the dressing-down.

  ‘My Lord, we only received the CCTV this morning, it’s unused material. In the unlikely event we need to rely on it, any expert enhancement will be served on the Crown.’

  ‘Before trial, Mr Kowalski?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘Anything else?’