Unconvicted

by Olly Jarvis

  Lara followed him out. ‘What now?’

  Jack shrugged.

  ‘Why were you asking Paget about timings?’

  His brow furrowed. ‘I’m not sure. There’s a kink in the evidence. Can’t quite put my finger on it though, probably nothing.’ He flopped onto one of the sofas by the window and stared out onto Crown Square.

  Lara knew when Jack needed to be left alone.

  Chapter 56

  ‘Someone to see you at the front desk, gov.’

  DS Baker looked over the top of her computer screen. ‘Who?’

  ‘Somebody Riley.’

  ‘Lauren?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ replied the officer.

  Baker drew breath. She often got these visits after the dust settled: complainants traumatized by the trial, demanding an explanation. People said Baker was overzealous in her investigations, that she cut corners, but it was all to avoid outcomes like this.

  Lauren Riley was pacing around, her whole body twitching as if she’d been speeding all night. On seeing Baker come through the door, she stopped.

  Baker showed her into a side room. ‘How you coping, love?’

  Riley shrugged.

  ‘The whole team are devastated about what—’

  ‘There’s something I want to tell you,’ Riley cut in.

  ‘Tell me?’ Alarm bells. Baker dreaded what Lauren might be about to admit – after all the man-hours they had spent on the case.

  ‘I wanted to make sure it was you – you know,’ she said. ‘Because of how nice to me you were on the night, and that.’

  ‘Go on, love,’ said Baker. ‘What is it?’

  Chapter 57

  Jack was still lost in thought when the case was called back on.

  ‘Come on, Kowalski,’ Hornby called out as he strutted into court. ‘Ready for another round?’

  Ignoring him, Jack got to his feet and followed the parties into the courtroom.

  ‘All rise!’

  Her Honour took her seat. ‘Do you have your expert, Mr Hornby?’

  ‘I do indeed,’ came the smug reply.

  ‘Very well, jury in please.’

  The usher led the jury into court as Hornby got back on his feet and announced: ‘I call David Ruskin.’

  A middle-aged man in an M&S suit walked into the witness box carrying a worn leather briefcase. He patted down his curly hair before holding up the Bible and reciting the oath, then, without prompting, gave the court his full name. It was obvious he’d given evidence many times before.

  Hornby led the witness through his expertise in the area of forensic evidence, and in particular, his knowledge of blood staining at crime scenes. ‘You have completed a report in relation to this case, Mr Ruskin?’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘Feel free to refer to it during your evidence.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The witness bent down and retrieved a bound document from his case.

  ‘Your Honour, there seems to be little controversy over Mr Ruskin’s findings – the defendant’s case being that he wasn’t there – so I intend to lead him relatively quickly through his evidence.’

  ‘That seems sensible. Mr Kowalski?’

  Jack felt uneasy, but had no proper objection.

  ‘Mr Ruskin, we know from the agreed medical evidence that Mr Ross suffered two distinct injuries to the back of the head. Can you assist the jury by explaining how they were sustained?’

  ‘Yes, there were two distinct areas of blood staining found at the scene: one on the shovel, and one on the ground, near Mr Ross’s head.’

  ‘Are you able to say how they were caused?’

  ‘Yes, the staining on the shovel is consistent with a blunt force injury, the second, when he hit the ground, his head already bleeding.’

  ‘How do you come to this opinion?’ asked Hornby, leaning over his lectern for the denouement.’

  ‘When I look at the pattern of blood on the ground, I see what we call contact-blood staining. I am able to conclude that the victim was already bleeding when he hit the hard surface. You can see that in photograph five.’

  The jurors flicked through their bundles.

  ‘We might expect a tiny amount of blood on impact if there had been no prior injury, but not at this level,’ added Ruskin. ‘The victim was definitely bleeding on impact. Look at the spatters fanning out from the point of impact.’

  The jurors studied the photograph.

  ‘There is less staining on the shovel,’ said the expert.

  ‘Let’s have a look at that,’ said Hornby.

  PC Khan passed forward the alleged weapon in a sealed plastic bag. ‘Mr Usher,’ said Hornby, trying his best to sound polite in front of the jury. ‘Would you please show this to the witness.’

  The usher handed the object to Ruskin.

  ‘It’s obviously in a sealed bag due to the blood contamination, Mr Ruskin?’

  ‘That’s correct,’ replied the witness, lifting up the flat end. ‘There are some blood spatters on the shovel, as one would expect if it had been used to strike Mr Ross.’

  Jack glanced back at the dock to catch Dixon’s reaction – he was shaking his head.

  ‘Perhaps the jury would like to see that, Your Honour?’ Hornby asked.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Always effective to put the weapon in the hands of the jury,’ Lara whispered to Jack.

  ‘Might I see it first, Your Honour?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Certainly, Mr Kowalski.’

  The usher carried the shovel over to Jack. Hindered by the cover, he studied it as best he could through the plastic, observing the teardrop-shaped spatters on the back. Again he had that feeling – that he was missing something obvious.

  The usher moved on, passing the implement in front of the jury.

  Jack rifled through the photographs in the jury bundle.

  ‘And for the avoidance of doubt, I think the blood was forensically analyzed by another expert?’ Hornby asked.

  ‘Yes, it was.’

  ‘And it was confirmed as Mr Ross’s blood?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Can you say anything about the order of events?’ Hornby asked. ‘In particular, about the paving slabs?’

  ‘Yes, the slabs were removed after the injuries had been sustained.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘There are two slabs near the head which don’t have any staining. They must have been moved there after the assault.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Ruskin, that’s all very helpful,’ said Hornby as he sat down.

  Jack, engrossed in the photographs, was unaware his opponent had finished his examination in chief.

  ‘Mr Kowalski?’ asked the judge, with an unusual hint of irritation.

  ‘Mr Ruskin,’ said Jack. Another wait as he shuffled through his papers. ‘You are an expert on blood?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve already said that.’

  ‘When a person is already bleeding and they impact a surface, it can leave any number of blood stains, and quite often a large splodge?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but yes, there is little predictability in the shape of the staining.’

  ‘And as you’ve said, spatters fanning out from the point of impact?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Now, looking at photograph one, Mr Ruskin?’

  Ruskin reached for the bundle.

  The jury did the same.

  Lara took the opportunity to pull on Jack’s gown, and whispered: ‘Where are you going with this?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet,’ he replied, trying to sound calm.

  ‘We can see the body outline, drawn on the ground,’ Jack continued, ‘to mark the position in which Mr Ross was found?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you can see a large volume of blood around his head?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is it possible that Mr Ross fell, banging his head on the raised pile of slabs, which caused his head to bounc
e off the slabs and hit the ground, resulting in a second injury?’

  Ruskin considered the question for a moment. ‘The mechanism is possible, but it ignores too many other features.’

  ‘There’d be no explanation for the blood found on the spade?’

  ‘Yes, and the lack of spatters on the raised slab.’

  ‘Of course,’ agreed Jack. ‘All the pieces have to fit?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘So what if the spade was lying on top of the raised slabs and Mr Ross fell on it?’

  Hornby got up. ‘This is all very interesting, Your Honour, but I thought my learned friend’s case was that his lay client wasn’t at the scene – yet he seems to be putting a scenario the defendant could have no knowledge of.’

  Jack remained on his feet. ‘Your Honour, I am entitled to test the prosecution case, and there is authority for the proposition that I must act in the best interests of the defendant, even if it contradicts his instructions.’

  The courtroom fell silent while the judge considered the point. Finally: ‘Proceed, Mr Kowalski.’

  Jack returned to the witness. ‘Is it possible that the spade was lying across the raised slab, then Mr Ross fell on it, leaving some blood on the spade – rather than the top slab – then his head bounced or rolled off causing a second impact with the ground?

  ‘I suppose it’s theoretically possible,’ Ruskin replied.

  Jack knew he needed more. About to sit down, he suddenly swivelled around and whispered to Lara: ‘Have you printed those photos you took?’

  She passed them to him.

  Jack flicked through the bundle, heart pounding, then stopped.

  ‘Mr Ruskin, you didn’t go to the scene, did you?’

  ‘No,’ he replied, then, in response to the veiled criticism, added: ‘But I had all the medical evidence and countless photographs.’

  ‘But if your theory is correct, it could have been confirmed if you’d moved the two slabs which had been pulled out of the ground?’

  ‘I don’t follow?’

  ‘Because there would be blood spatters on the bottom slab near the impact site, because it was never moved, wouldn’t there? Those blood spatters would have been covered up when the two displaced slabs were put on top of it, according to your theory?’

  ‘Well, erm,’ the expert stuttered.

  ‘It would prove that the slabs were moved after the victim fell?’ asked Jack, pressing the witness. ‘Wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I was satisfied that it was unnecessary, based on the other evidence.’

  ‘You see, we went to the scene a few days ago, and my instructing solicitor took some photographs. Have a look at this one.’ Jack handed it to the usher, who took it over to the witness.

  ‘That’s my hand lifting up the two slabs. You can see the underside of the second slab, and the bottom slab still in situ on the patio.’

  Ruskin studied the photograph.

  ‘There’s no blood, is there.’

  Embarrassed: ‘I can’t see any.’

  ‘We would have expected to see blood there, fanning out from the point of impact on the ground after the victim’s fall?’

  The witness was silent.

  ‘So, surely the two displaced slabs must have been moved there before the fall?’

  ‘Your Honour,’ protested Hornby. ‘We don’t know if the integrity of the crime scene has been maintained.’

  Jack scoffed. ‘Please answer the question, Mr Ruskin.’

  ‘Yes, I would have expected to see blood there.’

  ‘So it’s possible that no blow to the head was ever struck?’

  The expert looked across at the prosecution.

  ‘Mr Ruskin?’ Jack persisted.

  ‘Yes, it’s possible.’

  ‘And your opinion that the slabs were moved after the victim fell is—’

  ‘I must revise that opinion.’

  ‘And your revised opinion,’ Jack suggested, ‘would fit with Mrs Paget’s evidence that the time between her hearing the noise outside and seeing the defendant on the fence was only a minute.’

  ‘Because the defendant wouldn’t have had time to move the slabs after the assault,’ Ruskin agreed.

  ‘Exactly!’ said Jack.

  The courtroom was stunned. Both Hornby and the judge needed a few moments to take in the latest revelation.

  Jack sat down.

  ‘Any re-examination, Mr Hornby?’

  ‘Err, no thank you, Your Honour,’ he replied.

  ‘Right, well, I’ll adjourn until 10:30 tomorrow.’

  ‘All rise!’

  Chapter 58

  Everyone was still in shock as they left Court. Open-mouthed, Hornby shot his opponent a sideways glance.

  ‘That was bloody brilliant,’ exclaimed Lara, once they were all back in the conference room.

  Even Gary Dixon seemed buoyed. ‘So does that mean I’ll get off the GBH? I never hit that fella.’

  ‘So what did happen?’ Jack shot back immediately, seizing on the disclosure.

  Dixon clammed up.

  ‘Gary?’ asked Jammer. ‘You gonna tell us now?’

  ‘I’m going,’ he said, storming out.

  ‘Gary, come back,’ Jammer shouted after him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to the lawyers, before running after the teenager. ‘Great cross,’ he shouted over his shoulder.

  Lara gave Jack a soft punch in the ribs. ‘It’s bound to reduce the sentence on the burglary, and Gary’s right, there’s no intent to cause GBH any more.’

  ‘It’s more than that, Lara.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It was never just a burglary. He’d already dug up the patio when Ross came back. Gary was looking for something under those slabs.’

  ‘But what?’ asked Lara.

  ‘I’ve no idea. Why won’t he tell us?’

  ‘Maybe he’s protecting someone?’

  Jack began pacing the small room. ‘Maybe. The key to this case is that address. We need to find out everything we can about it – property searches, newspaper reports, planning permissions, everything.’

  ‘By tomorrow morning?’

  ‘What choice do we have?’

  They walked across Spinningfields in the rain, huddled under Lara’s umbrella, stopped for takeaway coffees on the corner at Pret, then made a final dash for chambers.

  Standing in the porch, Jack watched Lara shake the water off her umbrella. She gave him a knowing a smile.

  ‘Mr Kowalski!’ shouted Bob from the clerks’ room. ‘Where’ve you been hiding, sir?’

  Jack hadn’t been in since his victory in Nowak.

  ‘What a result, sir. You’re the talk of chambers.’

  A couple of junior clerks stood at the door and gave the young tenant a thumbs up. Sarah Dale and Simon Huntsman, on hearing the commotion, came out and shook Jack’s hand.

  Uncomfortable in the spotlight, Jack mumbled a few thank yous and quickly led Lara to the library – they had work to do.

  They sat down at one end of the mahogany table, slurped their Americanos and opened up their laptops. Lara was still grinning, amused by Jack’s shyness in the face of adulation. ‘You should enjoy it, Jack. It’s good, isn’t it?’

  Did she mean them, their relationship? ‘Enjoy what?’

  ‘Your comeback.’

  No, she didn’t.

  ‘Things are going well for you.’

  ‘I suppose they are,’ he replied. She was right. Jack did find it hard to see past the anxiety, the guilt. Maybe it was time to relax a little and try to actually enjoy the job –enjoy life.

  She touched his arm, sending a shock through his body. ‘You deserve it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he replied, instinctively pulling his arm away. ‘Right, let’s see what we can find,’ he said, cursing himself for his inability to extend the intimacy.

  The next hour was spent combing through searches on Arthur Ross’s name and address, and sifting through newspaper reports relating to the road. N
othing of interest came up.

  A tap on the door. ‘Jack,’ said Sarah Dale, her face full of concern. ‘There are two police officers here to see you.’

  A worn-looking plainclothes officer was standing behind his head of chambers, accompanied by a nervous PC Khan.

  Jack’s face turned ashen. ‘Is it my father?’

  ‘No,’ replied the female detective. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

  Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘Jack Kowalski, my name is DS Baker and I’m arresting you on suspicion of attempting to pervert the course of justice.’

  ‘What?’ said Lara, getting up.

  ‘You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something which you later rely on in evidence. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

  ‘There must be some mistake?’ was Jack’s automatic response.

  Embarrassed, Khan said: ‘We have to follow procedure.’

  ‘That’s right,’ agreed Baker, stony-faced.

  ‘What’s he supposed to have done?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘We’d rather talk about that down at the station.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ said Lara, pulling her coat off the back of the chair.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ replied Jack.

  ‘I’ve seen how this DS conducts interviews, you’ll need a solicitor there, Jack.’

  Baker shot her a look but said nothing.

  ‘I can handle this,’ Jack said firmly. ‘You need to keep looking. I’ll ring when this has been cleared up.’ Seeing that he hadn’t appeased her, Jack added: ‘Please, Lara, I’ll be OK.’

  Lara and Sarah Dale looked on as the officers escorted Jack out of chambers and into the back of a police car.

  Nobody could believe what was happening.

  Chapter 59

  The Hidden Gem was just that: Manchester’s oldest Catholic church, nestled in an alleyway off Deansgate. Once the focal point of Manchester’s slums, it was now surrounded by skyscrapers. Few people outside the Catholic faith even knew this beautiful sanctuary existed.

  The pews were dotted with anonymous visitors, seeking a quiet moment of reflection and solitude, away from the bustle of city life.

  Jammer closed his eyes, clasped his hands and rested them on the next pew. His maker had never let him down, not since he had been born again. What had it all been for if God wasn’t going to hear him now, when he needed Him more than ever? Weary from a life of witnessing opportunities lost, of roads not taken, Jammer rested his head on his hands and prayed.