by Olly Jarvis
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ Her phone pinged. She read the text, and her face lost some of its colour.
‘Is everything all right?’
‘No, I need to go.’ Lara wrenched her arm free. ‘Now leave me alone.’ Pushing the old man aside, she marched off towards Carluccio’s.
‘Lara, please,’ Finlay called after her, before remembering himself and looking around for prying eyes.
Without turning around, Lara gave him the middle finger.
Chapter 36
Jack paced up and down Simon Huntsman’s room, listening to a last minute pep talk from his old pupil-master. ‘Don’t go in too hard on the complainant, you could lose the jury.’
‘Then how am I going to break her down?’
‘Give her enough rope to hang herself.’
He stopped pacing for a moment and breathed in deeply. ‘Jesus, this is going to be a nightmare, I know it.’
‘Calm down, Jack,’ said Huntsman. ‘You’ll be fine once you get going.’
Lara burst into the room.
‘Lara!’ Jack’s joy subsided when he saw her strained expression. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Don’t freak out, OK? Just listen?’
‘What is it?’ he asked, glancing nervously at Huntsman.
‘The complainant in Dixon – Arthur Ross – he died over the weekend. I’ve just had a text from Richard Hornby.’
Jack put a hand on Huntsman’s desk to steady himself. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Nothing suspicious, he fell down the stairs.’
‘Fell down the stairs? How can they know that, he could’ve been pushed. Gary must’ve—’
‘No!’ Lara cut across him: ‘Stop it, Jack. There’s no evidence of that, he hasn’t even been pulled in.’
That gave him little comfort. ‘And the trial?’
‘Goes ahead on Thursday.’
‘It stinks,’ said Jack. ‘Did Mr Ross ever make a witness statement?’
‘No.’
Jack let out a cynical laugh. ‘Lucky for Gary.’
‘You’re adding two and two and making five, Jack,’ said Huntsman. ‘What happens on the street is not your problem. I thought you’d learnt that?’
‘Even if I facilitated murder?’
‘Hang on, you just defend them in court, that’s it. You can’t worry about what goes on out there.’
‘He’s right,’ said Lara. ‘Stop making yourself judge and jury, you’re just a lawyer.’
‘Yeah,’ Jack replied, without conviction. ‘I’d better get to court.’
‘Will you be OK?’ asked Lara.
Jack swung his red bag over his shoulder. ‘Just gotta get on with it, haven’t I? Too late to back out now.’
Lara wasn’t sure which case he was referring to.
Chapter 37
The attention Jack received from the photographers and cameramen in Crown Square stood in stark contrast to the indifference of the robing room. The small space was filled with legal jargon and the sound of bags being flung onto tables. Other than the occasional acknowledgement, Jack’s presence hardly raised an eyebrow. Counsel had their own performances to worry about.
That all changed when Gylda McVey QC walked in.
The sudden hush among the advocates reminded Jack that he wasn’t the only one who found her intimidating.
Her refusal to communicate was unsettling. He watched her tie her hair back in a ponytail then place her wig carefully on her head, like a warrior dressing for battle. ‘Morning, Gylda,’ he said, hoping for some kind of recognition that they were in the same case. What surprise was she saving for the courtroom?
Only a slight turn of the head, then she was gone.
Nowak and the others were standing in a huddle outside Court One. Jack wasted no time: ‘Did you identify the man on the CCTV?’
Statham shook his head. ‘We go with what we’ve got.’
There was no point protesting at the lack of ammunition in front of the client. Nowak’s face was already a greyish green. ‘Are you all right?’
The young footballer swallowed. ‘Feeling sick, but I will be OK. I just want this to be finished. I have faith in you, Mr Kowalski.’
‘So do I,’ said Statham, and Boswell added his own endorsement. Jack wasn’t naïve enough to be buoyed by their compliments. They were merely seizing the opportunity to endorse Nowak’s view that everything depended on Jack’s ability as an advocate.
‘I hope you don’t mind, but my parents wanted to meet you, to say thank you,’ said Nowak, escorting them over to the group.
Nowak’s parents seemed so out of place, thrust into the glare of a high profile trial. What must they be thinking right now? Their eyes met for a moment, and Jack realized that they were also wondering about him, about whether he was up to the job.
He could tell they spoke no English, but he didn’t want to create a personal connection by talking to them in Polish. Instead, he just said: ‘There’s no need, and besides, I haven’t done anything yet.’ They must have been so proud of their son’s meteoric rise to fame. How would they cope if the verdict went against them? The parents of a vilified rapist, all success forgotten.
‘Thank you, sir, thank you,’ they said.
Jack felt sick. Did they even know it was his first rape trial?
‘Gustaw Nowak?’ the usher called out.
Everyone went into court.
Jack took his place on counsel’s row and looked over at McVey, confident and in control, taking final instructions from the CPS. He turned around to check on his client sitting in the dock behind huge panes of bulletproof glass. He looked terrified – a small comfort, Jack thought: there was no greater giveaway to the jury than a defendant who appeared at home in the dock.
‘All rise.’
Mr Justice Skart entered the courtroom. It wasn’t just the red robes of a high court judge that inspired fear in those who appeared before him, it was the man himself. His commanding presence and self-belief as a man of the law demanded compliance.
‘Are you Gustaw Nowak?’ asked the court clerk.
‘Yes.’
‘Sit down.’
‘Are we ready to swear a jury?’ asked Skart, getting straight to the point.
Jack stood up: ‘Yes, My Lord, but first there is the legal argument about the complainant’s sexual history.’
‘Can’t we do that just before she gives evidence?’
‘Yes, My Lord.’ Jack glanced over at the press box – it was full. He could hear his heart thumping.
McVey was on her feet. ‘My Lord, in a few moments, the Crown will be ready for the jury to be sworn and then to open the case, but there is one preliminary matter. We’ve finally heard back from the Polish authorities, just this morning I think.’ She turned around for confirmation from the CPS. ‘Although Mr Nowak has no previous convictions, he was charged with an offence of rape eighteen months ago, subsequently not proceeded with.’
Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Why hadn’t Nowak told him about this? He’d been played. And perhaps more importantly, if the jury heard this, it was game over. ‘My Lord, I will need to take instructions on this.’
McVey was back on her feet: ‘Of course, I didn’t appreciate the defendant hadn’t told his legal team about it.’
Jack felt a fool for walking into that one.
‘We can argue this later,’ said Skart. ‘You don’t need to open it, Miss McVey?’
‘No, My Lord.’
‘Very well, you can take instructions over the short adjournment, Mr Kowalski.’
‘Thank you, My Lord,’ Jack replied, trying to keep his wits about him. ‘And I would ask for no press reporting on this issue, until and unless it goes before the jury.’
‘Yes,’ ruled the judge.
‘My Lord,’ said McVey. ‘You will be aware, I’m sure, that the defendant has some affiliation with the United football club.’
‘Yes, I’ve read that.’
�
��Such allegiances can generate strong emotions, and for that reason I would ask that the jury panel be asked whether they are football supporters, and those that support United should be removed from the selection process.’
Jack was straight up: ‘Then no City supporter should sit on this jury either, and we would be left with no one.’
‘Miss McVey,’ said Skart, thinking through his position, ‘it is my understanding that the defendant has never played for United, nor was he ever under contract with them.’
‘That’s correct, My Lord, but he was about to sign a contract, as I understand it.’
Jack got back up.
‘I don’t need to hear from you, Mr Kowalski. The connection is spurious, and in any event, I am quite sure that no right-thinking juror would put their link with any club above their duty, and so I will not ask that question.’
‘As Your Lordship pleases.’ McVey sat down.
Jack was mightily relieved, but the irony wasn’t lost on him – his case was so desperate that he needed a few fanatical United supporters on the jury.
‘Anything else?’ Skart enquired.
‘No thank you, My Lord,’ the advocates replied in turn.
The preliminaries concluded, Jack could feel the weight of responsibility pushing him down into his seat. This case, this result would define him forever within the Polish community.
‘Very well, bring in the jury panel.’
The usher led the potential jurors into the courtroom from a side door. As always, they instinctively looked at the dock, keen to see which monster was waiting to be tried. Most recognized Nowak, realizing this was the rape trial all over the news and the newspapers – another arrogant footballer.
The names of those selected were read out one by one as the twelve jurors took their seats in the box and solemnly swore their oaths: ‘I swear by almighty God that I will faithfully try the defendant and give a true verdict according to the evidence.’ One juror took the oath on the Qur’an and another affirmed.
Once the jury were empanelled and the judge had finished his warnings about sitting times and not researching anything independently, especially on the internet, Gylda McVey QC took centre stage. The tone of her opening speech was perfect – almost with regret, she submitted that the jury would be driven to the conclusion that Nowak was a rapist. She stressed the injuries to Lauren Riley’s wrists and her complaint to a police officer only minutes later, then she reached the heart of the case – intent.
‘You will need to ask yourselves three questions, members of the jury.’ Holding her forefinger up in the air: ‘One, can you be sure he intentionally penetrated her vagina? Yes; it is admitted by the defendant. Two, can you be sure Lauren Riley did not consent to the penetration? Yes, look at the injuries, look at her reaction afterwards, running down Deansgate barefoot.’
She paused for effect and slowly held up three fingers. ‘Three, can you be sure that the defendant did not reasonably believe that Miss Riley consented? Yes, you can; she was struggling and repeatedly saying “no” and “stop”. Members of the jury, when you have heard the evidence in this case, we the prosecution say you will be sure that the defendant knew at the time he was penetrating this young woman that she was not consenting, and he also knows it today. He raped her.’
She finished with a few soundbites for the media and then sent a coded reminder to the judge: ‘Before I embark on calling the evidence, My Lord, there is a short matter of law.’
‘Ah yes,’ replied Mr Justice Skart. ‘Members of the jury, as I told you when you were sworn, you and I have different functions. Questions of fact are for you, and matters of law are for me, so please go with the usher, hopefully you won’t be kept waiting too long.’
The jurors obediently picked up their belongings and followed the usher out of the courtroom.
‘I take it this is about Mr Kowalski’s section 41 application, to cross-examine the complainant about her previous sexual history?’ asked Skart.
‘It is, My Lord,’ McVey replied, waiting for her opponent to get to his feet.
‘Mr Kowalski?’ asked the judge.
Lost in thought, Jack didn’t hear him. He couldn’t get Nowak’s previous rape charge and the death of Arthur Ross out of his mind. He needed to be more detached, to man up and handle the pressure. But the combination of stress and tiredness served only to intensify it.
‘Mr Kowalski?’ Skart repeated.
McVey looked over with a supercilious grin, realizing that Kowalski was a spent force.
A hard poke in the back from Statham brought Jack to his feet.
Bemused, Skart asked slowly: ‘Section 41?’
‘Yes, My Lord,’ Jack replied, fumbling through his papers.
‘I’ve read your skeleton,’ said Skart, hoping to shorten the submission.
‘I’m grateful,’ Jack replied as he gathered his thoughts. ‘My Lord, we have two defence witnesses who will give evidence as to the complainant’s tendency towards submissive, consensual sexual intercourse. This is in contrast to the Crown’s case that the binding of the complainant’s wrists and the forceful nature of the sexual contact was instigated by him, and was very much part of the way he allegedly raped her. If My Lord were to refuse leave to pursue this line of cross-examination, in my submission it might, in accordance with section 41(2)(b), render unsafe a conclusion of the jury.’
The judge considered the argument.
Jack pressed: ‘And of course, this issue is central to the allegation.’
‘What do you say, Miss McVey?’ asked Skart.
‘My Lord,’ she protested, ‘this is an attack on the complainant’s credibility, masquerading as a relevant issue. My learned friend seeks to undermine the witness by adducing evidence of her sexual behaviour. He knows it will affect the jury, and that is why he seeks to adduce it.’
‘She may deny it, of course,’ observed Skart.
‘It’s more than that,’ said Jack seizing his opportunity. ‘The prosecution case relies heavily on the wrist injuries, and bruising to the back and inner thighs; that’s how the case was opened. I have an alternative explanation as to how they occurred. These witnesses will refer to bruising and the like occurring during these sexual encounters.’
Skart sighed. ‘All right, I will allow it.’
Jack’s relief at getting it admitted was tempered by a sense of dread – that he would have to be the one to put these tawdry assertions to Lauren Riley. It felt wrong.
McVey grinned at Jack. Something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t she fuming that such an important application had been allowed?
‘Then, to be fair to both sides,’ submitted McVey, ‘the Crown’s application to adduce bad character must now be allowed.’ The CPS lawyer handed a document along the row to Jack. ‘The rape allegation in Poland, which was subsequently dropped, My Lord, was on very similar facts.’
Jack’s heart skipped a beat as he read the modus operandi. Had he completely misjudged his client?
‘Your Lordship will see the allegation involved tying the complainant’s wrists to the bed posts, just as in this case.’
This was the sucker punch.
‘Well, I did promise Mr Kowalski that I would allow him time to take instructions,’ said Skart, ‘but yes, on the face of it, I can’t see how the defence could keep this out in light of their section 41 application. You’d have to call the alleged victim.’
‘Of course, My Lord.’ McVey sat down and gave Jack one of her trademark winks.
‘Right, jury in,’ said Skart to the usher, who disappeared through the side door and led the twelve back into the courtroom.
Gylda McVey began by reading the two agreed witness statements of PC Khan and DS Joan Baker. Their harrowing descriptions of seeing Lauren Riley running down Deansgate in distress and then her complaint of rape were a perfect way for the prosecution to set the scene. McVey understood better than anyone the subtleties of how juries thought about sex cases.
Once the police statemen
ts been read into the record, she leaned back for confirmation from the CPS lawyer that Miss Riley was ready to give her evidence.
There was a problem.
Concerned whispering and shaking of heads.
What had happened? Jack swiveled around. Statham and Boswell shrugged.
‘My Lord,’ said McVey, a hint of anxiety in her voice. ‘Might I ask for the court’s indulgence and call the complainant at 2:15?’
All the lawyers in court knew the High Court Judge had a short fuse when it came to matters of delay. His withering look demanded further explanation.
‘My Lord, as often happens in cases of this nature, the complainant is expressing some reluctance. With the Court’s leave, might I speak to her?’
‘Mr Kowalski?’
‘If there is no discussion about her evidence, I can’t properly object, My Lord.’
‘Yes, very well, 2:15.’
‘All rise!’
The moment Skart had left the courtroom, Jack shot out of counsel’s row. ‘Conference room,’ he said to Statham, as he passed.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Jack started on Nowak: ‘What’s going on?’
‘I don’t understand?’
‘Don’t treat me like an idiot. Why didn’t you tell me about the rape charge?’
Nowak looked to Statham for assistance. None was forthcoming.
‘Well?’ Jack persisted.
Eventually, he mumbled: ‘Mr Statham told me not to.’
‘What?’ Jack turned to face Statham and then back to Nowak. ‘Why?’
‘He said the prosecution might not find out about it because it was in Poland, but if I tell you, you would have a duty to tell the judge.’
Jack let out a snort then squared up to Statham: ‘And what about your duty to the court?’
Statham didn’t reply.
‘When I think of all the decent legal aid solicitors in this city, trying to stay afloat, and people like you coming up from London, charging clients huge fees.’ Jack shook his head. ‘I suppose your honesty is on sale too, isn’t it?’
Statham exploded: ‘How dare you talk to me like that, you little shit. You’re only in this case because you’re a Pole.’
