by Olly Jarvis
A tear dropped onto her cheek.
‘Miss Riley?’
‘He wanted me to sleep with Nowak.’
Audible gasps from the jurors.
‘And did you agree.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why did Greg Styles think you were the person to ask?’
‘You know, so why ask?’
‘Miss Riley,’ said Skart. ‘It’s counsel’s job to ask the questions, not to answer them.’
Jack could see the fire in Lauren’s eyes.
‘The modeling work had dried up, I needed money.’
‘You were working as a prostitute?’ Jack suggested with as much tenderness as he was able.
The witness looked to her right, searching for her mother in the public gallery.
Open-mouthed, Sharon Riley was shaking her head.
‘Mum?’ she cried out.
Sharon got up and, shielding her face, barged past people to get out of court.
‘Were you working as a prostitute, Miss Riley?’ repeated Jack.
Turning back to face her accuser, she exploded. ‘You think you’re better than me, don’t ya?’
Jack waited for Skart’s intervention.
‘Miss Riley, please answer the question.’
She shook her head, tears flowing freely now.
‘I think we’ll take a break there, members of the jury,’ Skart said calmly. ‘Take the witness out please, madam usher.’
Lauren was led out of the box, swaying and sobbing.
Jack felt sick.
‘You bastard,’ she moaned, before being escorted out.
Skart allowed the whispers to die down before he addressed McVey. ‘Her credibility is shot to pieces, Miss McVey, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘On peripheral matters, My Lord, but not the allegation itself.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t agree. This goes to the heart of the case, doesn’t it?’
McVey sighed. She’d been here too many times before.
‘How can I subject the witness to further cross-examination,’ Skart said, ‘when it’s already clear that the jury could never be sure of guilt, relying only on her uncorroborated account?’
Had Jack heard right, was this really happening? Was Skart thinking about chucking the case?
‘We have the complainant’s reaction immediately afterwards, running down Deansgate, My Lord,’ was the best McVey could offer. ‘And her injuries.’
‘You know perfectly well that neither gives independent corroboration of her account. Do you have any other witnesses that can take the matter further?’
‘No, My Lord, ’ McVey replied, her voice trailing off in disappointment.
‘Very well. I have no alternative but to direct the jury to return a not guilty verdict.’
Jack watched the legal formalities play out as if in slow motion. Skart’s final remark, ‘Mr Nowak, you are free to go,’ brought Jack back to the present.
Once the judge had risen, the congratulations began. Jack looked over at his opponent as she picked up her papers. McVey acknowledged him with a slight dip of the head, but said nothing.
Jack made his way out of the courtroom to more congratulations from Nowak’s tearful parents and a hug from Nowak himself. ‘How can I ever thank you,’ he said, wiping away the tears. ‘You saved my life.’
‘Brilliant!’ exclaimed Boswell, moving forward to shake Jack’s hand.
Even Statham agreed. ‘We make a pretty good team.’
‘We got lucky,’ Jack replied. He made his excuses and headed for the robing room.
Jack was drained. He took off his wig and threw it in the tin, catching himself in the mirror. He gazed out of the window at the people crossing Crown Square below. A woman in some distress was being helped into a car. It was Lauren Riley.
On hearing the door open, Jack turned away.
‘I suppose congratulations are in order,’ said McVey, pulling off her gown. ‘Another feather in your cap.’ All her steeliness had evaporated now the case was over.
‘Actually,’ Jack confided. ‘I feel disgust. I knew I had to ask those questions, but…’ he trailed off. ‘I feel ashamed.’
McVey nodded.
‘Was it like that for you? Defending your first rape?’
‘You get used to it.’
He wasn’t so sure. ‘Will she be charged with perverting?’
‘No, she withheld some information to protect herself, poor kid, but there’s no evidence she lied about the rape.’
Jack was relieved. ‘Do you think he did it?’
‘Who knows?’ she replied, letting out a weary sigh. ‘Skart was right, though, it couldn’t go to the jury after that performance.’
‘I don’t know how you do it,’ said Jack. ‘Rapes, week after week.’
‘Nor do I, sometimes,’ McVey replied, rolling up her gown and putting it in her bag. ‘It’s the acquittal rate that gets me down.’ She gathered up her stuff and said: ‘Until the next time, Kowalski.’
‘Until next time.’ Jack’s phone rang. It was Lara.
‘Great result! Hope you’re ready for Gary Dixon’s trial tomorrow?’
‘Of course.’
All Jack wanted to do was sleep.
Chapter 54
Jack woke with a start. Someone was banging on his front door. What time was it? Seven am. He got out of bed and sloped over to the door, still half asleep. ‘Tata?’
His father scurried past him and into the flat, taking some bagels out of a paper bag and putting them on a plate. ‘Fresh, from Polish shop.’
‘Tata, what are you doing here? It’s seven o’clock. You should be taking it easy.’
‘Sit. Eat,’ Mariusz said, sitting down. ‘You won your case, why you not call me?’ he asked, full of excitement.
‘I was so tired, Tata,’ Jack replied, flopping onto the chair. ‘I just wanted to sleep.’
‘Everybody talking ’bout it,’ he said, sitting back and puffing out his chest. ‘Even Pani Mila!’
Jack gave his father a tired smile.
‘Your mother, she would be—’
‘I know, Tata,’ said Jack. ‘She would have been very proud.’
Mariusz’s eyes began to well up, then, as if seeing his son for the first time: ‘You look like piss, Janusz. You not eating?’
‘It’s shit, Tata. You look like shit.’
‘Shit, piss,’ Mariusz said, waving a hand dismissively. He scrutinized his son’s face. ‘Maybe you rest today?’
‘I’d love to, but I’m starting another trial. It’s for Lara.’
‘Oh, Lara, that good.’ A comfortable silence took over, Mariusz watching his son devour the bagels.
‘My opponent is a bloke called Hornby,’ Jack revealed, unable to finish the sentence, as his mouth was too full. ‘He wants to be Lara’s boyfriend, I think. Can’t stand him.’
Mariusz laughed. ‘Oh, I see. There’s a lot at bacon in this case!’
‘At stake, Tata, at stake,’ said Jack rolling his eyes. ‘Your English is getting worse.’
‘Who care,’ he said. ‘I old man now’ He got up and put a hand on his back to help himself straighten up.
‘You OK, Tata?’ Jack asked, standing up and supporting him.
‘Yes, just old bones. I go, lots of sewing.’
‘You should be the one taking it easy.’
‘What else I’m gonna do, eh?’
Jack leaned over and hugged his father tight. ‘Thank you for the bagels, Tata, and for coming all this way.’
‘I see you tomorrow night.’
‘Tomorrow? Friday night?
‘Yes, Nowak family, big party.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Parents come to workshop yesterday. Very nice people. They very happy with you. They ask we go. Lot of player will be there.’
Jack’s stomach churned at the thought. ‘Tata, you know I’m not good at parties.’
‘You big lawyer now, you be fine.’ He made his way out onto the land
ing, then, with a wily grin: ‘Maybe bring Lara?’
‘She wouldn’t be interested.’
‘You don’t know, must try.’
‘Hang on, Tata,’ said Jack going over to the bed to get his wallet. ‘Let me give you some money for a taxi,’ he called out. ‘Nowak’s case will pay really well.’
By the time he turned around, his father had left.
Chapter 55
Jack found Lara in a conference room with Jammer and Gary Dixon. Dixon was dressed in a dirty grey tracksuit and trainers, perfectly fitting the jury’s stereotype of a young burglar. ‘Morning, Gary, how are you?’
‘OK,’ he replied, without looking up from his phone.
Jammer nudged him in the ribs.
‘Sorry about the other night.’ Then with more sincerity: ‘I didn’t think you would come today.’
‘Forget it,’ Jack replied. ‘Let’s talk about the case. I was hoping you might’ve had a change of heart?’
‘’Fraid not,’ said Lara. ‘He’s still running alibi.’
‘But what about the blood on the fence, and your DNA? Never mind Mrs Paget’s identification evidence.’
‘I weren’t there,’ Dixon insisted.
‘You mean, you won’t tell me what really happened in that house?’
Dixon made no attempt to respond.
Embarrassed by his apprentice’s manners, Jammer said: ‘We’ve tried to knock some sense into him but, well, he’s sticking with it.’
‘All right,’ said Jack. ‘But we haven’t got a prayer.’
‘I hope you’re listening to this?’ Jammer demanded more forcefully.
The teenager said nothing.
Lara followed Jack out onto the concourse.
‘This is a joke,’ he said.
‘Stop stressing out, Jack. You’re just going to have to test the evidence.’
‘I hate that phrase. It means there’s no defence.’
‘We might get lucky,’ she said, sweeping her dark hair back over her shoulder. ‘And he hasn’t been found guilty yet, we just have to do what he says.’
‘I know, I know,’ Jack replied, rubbing his forehead. ‘Don’t judge the unconvicted.’
‘You got it,’ she replied. ‘Even if we are just going through the motions.’
‘Hello Lara, Kowalski,’ said Robert Hornby, barging his way into the huddle. ‘Not still running alibi, are you?’ he asked with a broad grin.
‘Seems like it,’ Lara replied.
‘Ouch, don’t envy you that, Kowalski,’ he said with a condescending smirk. ‘You’ve seen my bad character application? Loads of previous for the same sort of thing.’
‘It’s unopposed.’ Jack had no argument to stop the jury from hearing about Dixon’s record – the offences were too similar.
‘Look on the bright side, old chap,’ he laughed. ‘At least you’ve got Donovan James to say what a nice boy Dixon is.’
Jack wasn’t in the mood to be needled about his pathetic defence. He went into court, spread his papers on the lectern and opened up his laptop.
Jammer took his place in the gallery, followed by Arthur Ross’s son and PC Khan.
Hornby arrived in counsel’s row, still chatting away to Lara, then pointed Khan out to Jack. ‘Any objection to my Officer being in court? His evidence isn’t contentious.’
‘No,’ Jack replied, realising that Hornby wanted the bobby to see him destroy the defence case. ‘Same goes for my character witness?’
Hornby saw that Jack meant Jammer, then chuckled. ‘None at all.’
‘All rise!’
Her Honour Judge Beddingfield came into court. Before commencing proceedings, she acknowledged the gallery, then, recognizing the dedicated key-worker from the bail application, she smiled. ‘Are we ready to swear a jury, gentlemen?’
‘A few preliminaries, Your Honour,’ said Hornby. ‘You may not be aware that the complainant, Mr Ross, passed away?’
‘What?’ Her eyes met Jack’s.
‘Your Honour,’ said Hornby. ‘It’s believed he fell down the stairs shortly after being discharged from hospital. He was obviously still weak from the alleged attack.’
‘I see,’ she replied, her relief obvious only to Jack. ‘Well, it doesn’t significantly affect your case on the burglary?’
‘No, Your Honour.’ Hornby replied. ‘We still have Mrs Paget’s identification and the forensic evidence.’
‘Very well. Anything to add, Mr Kowalski?’
Jack got to his feet, wondering if there was any point in him being there at all. The case was hopeless. ‘No, thank you, Your Honour.’
The jury panel were brought into court. Each juror stood up, recited the oath, then soaked up the characters in the courtroom, paying most attention to the young hoodie in the dock.
Hornby opened the case with his customary swagger and panache. His introduction to the evidence left the jury seemingly incredulous that Dixon hadn’t pleaded guilty.
He finished his speech with a brief explanation of the burden and standard of proof, and then: ‘With Your Honour’s leave, I call Eleanor Paget.’
Jack’s heart sank on seeing the usher guide the frail elderly lady into the box. Unsteady on her feet, she smiled sweetly at the judge, then the jury.
‘Please sit down, if that’s easier, Mrs Paget?’ Beddingfield offered.
She nestled into the high-legged chair.
Hornby took her gently through her evidence – hearing a noise next door, then going outside and seeing someone climbing over the back fence before briefly looking back. He finished by confirming that the person she picked out on the VIPER identification a few days later was the man on the fence.
Jack’s turn. He felt drained, his head still full of the previous day’s trial. He got to his feet and rested a hand on the lectern. ‘Mrs Paget, what was it about the man’s face that stuck out?’
She thought about the question. ‘Nothing in particular.’
‘Just that he was black?’
‘Well, yes, I noticed that.’
‘So when you were shown a series of still images at the police station, did you pick out the image that most resembled the man on the fence.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘So you can’t say it was the same person?’
‘Oh yes,’ she replied, probably unaware she was being questioned by a defence advocate. ‘It was the same man.’
Not the answer Jack wanted. ‘But nothing about the man on the fence stood out?
‘No, but I recognized him in the photographs. Sometimes you just know when you’ve seen a face before, don’t you?’
The damning probity of her answer hung in the air.
Jack couldn’t finish on such a disastrous line of cross-examination, so he changed tack. ‘What was the noise you heard, Mrs Paget?’
‘Noise?’
‘Yes, the noise that made you go outside?’
‘Oh, I don’t really know. It was very short-lived.’
‘Was it the sound of something – or someone?’
She thought for a moment. ‘Voices, I think, loud voices.’
‘How many?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, more than one.’
‘Could you hear what they were saying?’
‘No, it was all very quick.’
‘What was the time between hearing the voices and seeing the man on the fence?’
‘I’m not very good with timings, about a minute or so.’
‘A minute or so?’
‘Yes, give or take.’
Jack sat down and mulled over her last answer while Hornby firmed up the witnesses ID in re-examination, not that it was necessary. He then went on to read the forensic evidence – the recovery of blood and DNA at the scene. Jack half-turned and shot Lara an awkward glance. They still had no explanation for how it got there.
‘Your Honour,’ announced Hornby. ‘My next witness was to have been Dr Ruskin, the expert on blood staining, but he’s been held up and can�
�t be here until this afternoon. If there’s no objection, perhaps I could call the officer in the case out of turn?’
‘Mr Kowalski?’
‘No objection, Your Honour,’ Jack said, trying to stifle a groan.
PC Khan, in full uniform, stepped into the witness box. Hand on the Qur’an, he took the oath.
Hornby led Khan through his arrival at the scene and some other preliminaries, before using him to recite Dixon’s long list of previous convictions. Khan glanced over at Jammer almost in apology as he described how the suspect had refused to answer any questions in his police interview.
Jack had no questions – he didn’t have a viable case to put to the officer.
‘Other than Dr Ruskin, that is the evidence for the prosecution, Your Honour,’ said Hornby.
‘We’ve made good progress,’ replied the judge. ‘I’ll adjourn until 2:15 when hopefully your expert will have arrived.’
Hornby bowed to the judge as the jury were led away.
Once the jurors were out of earshot, Her Honour addressed defence counsel. ‘Mr Kowalski, I’m struggling to see what your defence is?’
‘Alibi, Your Honour,’ Jack replied dryly, ignoring the harrumph from counsel to his left.
‘But what about the blood and DNA at the scene? No explanation for that has been provided thus far.’
‘No, Your Honour. I am aware of the difficulties, and the defendant has been advised.’
The judge sighed. ‘I’m sure he knows I won’t be able to give him any credit for a guilty plea at this stage?’
‘He does, Your Honour.’
‘Very well, I’ll rise.’
Jack and Lara led Dixon into a conference room, followed by Jammer.
Jack threw his wig down onto the table and tried one last time: ‘You heard what the judge said, Gary, it’s hopeless. Is there anything you want to tell me?’
Leaning against the wall, Dixon was already fiddling with his phone.
‘Answer the man,’ demanded Jammer, shaking his head at Lara.
‘I weren’t there, that’s all I gotta say.’
Jack was out of ideas. ‘All right, see you after lunch then.’
Gary shot out of the door.
‘Thanks anyway, you know, for doing your best,’ said Jammer. ‘I know Gary appreciates it, even if he doesn’t show it.’
Jack picked up his wig and walked out onto the concourse.
