by Olly Jarvis
‘Mr Hornby?’ enquired Her Honour.
‘Err, well,’ he stuttered. ‘The prosecution case remains the same: this was a burglary gone wrong followed by an assault, whether or not there was an attempt to hide the body – the defendant believing Mr Ross to be dead.’
‘So you don’t seek to add any counts?’
‘No, Your Honour.’
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He had a defence at least, to both counts.
‘Very well, 2:15 gentlemen.’ Then, as an afterthought: ‘The defendant is remanded in custody.’
‘But, Your Honour…’ Jack protested.
‘Mr Kowalski, the only reason I granted bail in this case was because you put forward Mr James as a man of great integrity. It is the defence who now seek to challenge that.’
Jack could see how it appeared – that he’d pulled the wool over her eyes, again. ‘His brother is here, he can—’
‘No, Mr Kowalski, I’ve made my decision.’ Understandably, she wasn’t taking any chances.
‘I’ll rise.’
Hornby slid along counsel’s row with a grin on his face. ‘I knew there was something dodgy about that Jammer.’
‘You didn’t put it to him, though, did you?’ snapped Jack. ‘You’re saying it’s rubbish?’
‘It suits my case,’ he replied, his smile widening.
‘What about the truth?’
Hornby laughed. ‘That’s for the jury, not me, you twit.’
‘Come on, Jack,’ said Lara, pulling Jack away. ‘You’ve got a speech to write.’
‘I have good instincts about people,’ Hornby shouted after Jack, clearly delighted to have got under his skin.
‘Not instincts,’ Jack replied. ‘Prejudices. You just happened to be right this time.’
‘What’s the difference?’ Hornby said, as he went back to his lectern and gathered up his papers.
Chapter 68
Lara left Jack in the conference room to work on his speech while she went down to the cells to make Dixon understand that he had done the right thing, despite being remanded for it. She thought she might bump into Jammer on the way, but wasn’t surprised when he was nowhere to be seen.
A tattooed prison officer brought Gary to the visiting booth and took off his handcuffs.
She began the excuses: ‘I’m sorry about—’
Gary didn’t need the apology. ’I’ve been an idiot.’ He punched the wall. ‘Thought Jammer knew it all, didn’t I?’
Lara saw the blood on his knuckles, but didn’t comment. ‘What’s done is done,’ she said, encouraged that her client was finally opening up.
‘It’s done my head in, because he did help me with the apprenticeship, the job offer, gave me a chance.’
Lara knew better than anyone what he meant.
‘I feel such a dick.’
‘Don’t. The same thing happened to me when I was your age, when I was in care.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I was so desperate to be loved, I assumed that anyone who gave a shit about me must love me.’
Gary conveyed his complete understanding with a lazy smile. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you or Mr Kowalski before.’
‘What do you mean?’ Lara said.
‘You’ve done all this for me, and you don’t want nothin’ back. I know I’m the client but, other briefs, they don’t do all this.’ He grimaced. ‘Can’t believe I pulled a knife on the fella.’
‘Jack’s had worse. And don’t forget, Jermaine cares in his own way, he’s just got his own problems. But whatever happens with the verdicts, you will get through this, and you’re gonna make something of yourself.’ She placed a hand over his, at last having gained the defendant’s complete trust. ‘OK?’
‘OK,’ Gary replied, a tear rolling down his cheek.
Chapter 69
It was after two by the time Lara got back with a sandwich for Jack. She found him slumped over the table, his head resting on folded arms. ‘Jack?’
No response.
She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a shake.
He slowly lifted his head, then remembering where he was, sat bolt upright. ‘Shit! I fell asleep. What time is it?’
‘It’s time,’ she replied.
Jack looked down at his open notebook. There was only one word on the page: “speech”. ‘Oh, Jesus.’
‘Don’t panic,’ Lara ordered. ‘You don’t need to write this one, you know the evidence.’
Jack tried to remain calm as he got up, put his gown back on and adjusted his wig.
‘Look at me,’ she said firmly, putting a hand on each arm. ‘You’re not like Richard Hornby. You understand people, you have good instincts – go with them, OK?’
Jack took a deep breath. ‘OK.’
Chapter 70
Hornby’s speech was well prepared. Short and to the point, he painted a picture of a young man with a history of violence and burglaries, someone who knew how to play the system. He dismissed the defence case as a cleverly crafted attempt to explain Dixon’s presence at the scene without accepting the offence of burglary. He skated over Jack’s interpretation of the expert evidence on blood as a theory that ignored the basic facts: Mr Ross sustained injuries, and the only person who could have caused them was the defendant.
‘Members of the jury, the defence case is all smoke and mirrors,’ he said in his closing remarks. ‘When you take a step back and scrutinize the evidence calmly and dispassionately, you will conclude that the only proper verdicts in this case are ones of guilty.’
Jack had scribbled a few notes during Hornby’s speech, but as he got to his feet, he still didn’t know what he was going to say. He took a sip of water, then, as if it had just occurred to him for the first time, he began.
‘In our daily lives, we make judgments about people and situations all the time. We do it from an early age. We assumed we wouldn’t like a particular teacher because of the way they dressed. Walking home late at night, we’ve all crossed the road because someone looked like a mugger. And when you came into this courtroom and saw the defendant for the first time, you saw a teenage hoodie on charges of burglary and assault. You probably assumed he was guilty.’
Jack saw wry smiles creep across the faces of some of the jurors.
‘Your experience of everyday life will also have taught you that assumptions aren’t always right. One of the wonders of life is that we are sometimes surprised – challenged – in our assumptions about people. The burden of proof is always on the prosecution, to make you sure of guilt. That is for a reason, so that your verdicts will not be founded on assumptions about people, but on the evidence. Any defendant sitting in that dock, whatever their age, gender, colour, creed or background, starts from the same position – innocent until proven guilty.’
Jack paused before moving onto a detailed analysis of the evidence. He finished with Gary Dixon. ‘Despite everything you’ve heard about this young man, ask yourselves this: did what he said to you have the ring of truth? Might that be what really happened, because if it might be true, you will acquit.’ Jack sat down. He had done all he could, and the rest was up to the jury.
The judge’s summing up was fair; the case hung in the balance. By half past three, the jury were out to consider their verdict.
‘Do you think they’ll be back today?’ Lara asked Jack as they paced up and down outside the courtroom.
‘Who knows?’ he replied. ‘It would be nice to get it over with and get some sleep.’
‘You’ll be in bed by six o’clock,’ Lara laughed.
‘Actually, I won’t.’ He’d been waiting for the right time. ‘My Dad’s making me go to Nowak’s victory celebration.’ He summoned up the courage: ‘Would you like to come?’ Then: ‘Just thought you’d want to meet some potential clients?’
She frowned. ‘You know that’s not my thing – I’m a legal aid lawyer.’
‘I know that.’ Honesty was the only way with Lara. ‘Truth is,’ he stuttered, �
��my dad would love to see you again.’
She gave him one of her intense stares.
‘And… and… it would mean a lot to me.’
‘And you want me to hold your hand while you suss out whether those shysters know anything about bribing Lauren Riley?’
‘There is that.’
‘OK.’
‘Really?’
‘Sure, I’d love to see your dad again.’
‘Great.’ He could never tell when she was teasing him.
At 4:15 the tannoy broke in: ‘All parties in the case of Dixon, go to court immediately.’
The parties were quickly assembled.
Jack saw the ashen-faced defendant being brought up into the dock.
‘All rise!’
‘The jury have not reached a verdict,’ Judge Beddingfield announced. ‘I’m sending them home until ten am on Monday. The defendant will remain in custody.’
The weekend would be an agonizing wait.
Chapter 71
Jack could hear the familiar rattle of a sewing machine coming from his father’s workroom.
Mariusz took his foot off the pedal and peered over his glasses. ‘You look tired.’
‘I’m fine. Why aren’t you ready? We’ve got to meet Lara.’
Mariusz smiled, letting go of the cloth. ‘Good, so you ask her?’
‘Yeah, she’s looking forward to seeing you.’
‘I not going, too much work.’
‘What?’
Mariusz put his foot back on the pedal to drown out Jack’s protests.
‘This was your idea,’ Jack shouted. ‘Tata?’
Mariusz stopped sewing. ‘I too old for parties.’
‘You never intended to go, did you?’ Jack’s brow furrowed. ‘You just wanted to set me up with Lara. It’s pathetic.’
Mariusz chuckled. ‘How case going?’
‘The jury’s out,’ Jack replied, still smarting from his father’s scheming.
‘You’re worried about something?’
‘Just work,’ Jack lied, wondering if his father had heard about Lauren Riley’s allegation.
‘Did he do it?’
‘Who, Dixon? He did something, but probably not what he’s on trial for.’
Mariusz scrutinized his son’s face, forcing further explanation.
‘It’s not my problem. I’m just the barrister.’
‘That’s right,’ Mariusz exclaimed. ‘You learning, you toughening down.’
‘It’s toughening up, Tata, toughening up.’
That’s what I say,’ he replied, picking up a waistcoat. ‘Look at the bottom, no tapers. I hate flat bottom.’ He chucked it back on the pile. ‘But if he want to wear, he can wear,’ he said, holding up his arms in resignation. ‘Not my problem.’
Jack laughed.
‘Now go, you not want be late.’
‘OK, Tata,’ said Jack softly, leaning over the machine and kissing the top of his father’s head. As he opened the door to leave, Mariusz called after him: ‘Remember, the truth is not for you, it for jury, and God.’
Mariusz seemed to intuitively understand the way things worked. He saw things so simply.
Jack turned around to compliment him on his insight, but he was already back at work, pushing a trouser leg across the needle plate.
Jack thought about Lauren, about why she was framing him. Maybe he’d never know. ‘See you, Tata.’
His father couldn’t hear him.
Chapter 72
The Great John Street Hotel off Quay had sprung up to cater for the local TV stars in the old Granada Studios building, before its move to Salford Quays. Still a favourite of footballers, its upmarket boutique-style bar had been chosen as the venue for Nowak’s victory party.
Jack paced up and down outside chambers, just across the road from the venue. He was still in his pinstripe, so at least he didn’t have to decide what to wear.
A taxi pulled up and Lara stepped out in a tight black cocktail dress and high heels. She looked stunning. Was she treating it like a date? He hoped so.
‘Where’s your dad?’
Maybe not. ‘Said he’s got too much work. I tried.’
‘Oh well,’ she said, looping her arm through his as they crossed the road. ‘How are you feeling about things?’
‘Oh, you know,’ he replied. ‘Praying for a miracle.’
‘I didn’t think you were practicing?’ she replied with a grin.
‘I’m starting to review that policy.’
She laughed. ‘You’re going to try and relax for a few hours, OK?’
‘OK,’ he replied, as they glided effortlessly past the two doormen. With Lara on his arm, their invitation was assumed.
Jack’s heart began to beat faster on seeing the raucous crowd of trendy young men and glamorous women.
‘Kowalski!’
Statham was striding over.
‘I’ll get some drinks,’ said Lara, moving confidently towards the bar.
‘Must make you proud?’ said Statham.
‘Proud?’
‘Seeing the fruits of your labour. Wouldn’t be doing this if we’d lost.’
‘Oh, I see,’ he replied, unable to hide that he wasn’t in a party mood.
‘I’m sorry about you getting arrested,’ Statham offered.
‘You know about that?’
‘Of course, we all got interviewed – me, Boswell and Nowak.’
‘But she’s named me. Forget ruining my career, this could mean jail.’
Statham didn’t have a witty comeback.
‘Do you know anything about this? I need to know.’
‘No, I do not,’ he replied in a raised voice. ‘Unlike you, I’ve got a very big career. I wouldn’t risk it all for a client.’
He had a point.
‘What about the others?’
‘Boswell isn’t that stupid, and Nowak? Well, he’s got enough hangers-on to arrange it, but I just don’t know him well enough.’ He took a sip of champagne. ‘Don’t forget, the only evidence that an offer was made comes from Riley.’
Jack had been thinking about that.
‘Maybe she’s making it up? She’s a proven liar, after all.’ He gave Jack’s arm an encouraging pat. ‘If it goes to trial, she’ll be destroyed in the box.’ Another sip. ‘You’ll just have to tough it out.’
The mention of a trial sent a shiver down Jack’s spine. This was getting too real.
Lara rejoined them, holding two flutes, one of which she handed to Jack.
Gustaw Nowak stumbled into them, already half-cut. ‘Who’s this, Jack?’ he said, ogling Lara’s cleavage.
No longer “Mr Kowalski”, Jack replied: ‘This is my friend, Lara.’
‘Friend?’ he asked with a wink, then, without waiting for a reply, put an arm around Jack’s shoulder. ‘Come, I want to show you something.’ He led Jack away from the revellers, towards some stairs.
Jack noticed Nowak’s parents watching them, standing in a corner, ignored and out of place.
Jack and his former client came to a deserted roof terrace, dotted with loungers and low tables.
‘I hired this for later,’ Nowak explained with a seditious grin. ‘When my parents have gone. They think I’m still a kid.’ He gestured towards a jacuzzi. ‘Maybe you and your friend?’ he chuckled, slapping Jack on the back.
Jack was in no mood for laddish chit-chat. ‘Gustaw, I need to ask you something. It’s about Lauren Riley.’
‘Yes, the lying whore says you offered her money?’
Jack winced at Nowak’s language. ‘It could ruin me.’
Nowak smiled. ‘The shoe is on the other foot, no?’
‘You think this is funny?’ Jack asked, surprised by the indifference of his former client.
‘Forget about it, no one will believe her,’ Nowak replied, sobered by the admonishment.
‘The police do. Did you have anything to do with it? I need to know?’
‘If I did, you think I would tell you?’ he
laughed, seemingly enjoying the reversal of power. ‘My friend, you worry too much. Let’s go back to the party,’ putting his arm around Jack’s shoulder again.
This time Jack shrugged him off.
The sound of stiletto heels behind them.
‘Look who it is,’ a woman’s voice hissed. She stepped into the light. ‘Thick as thieves.’
‘Lauren?’ Jack said.
‘Who let you in?’ demanded Nowak.
‘Pretty girl can get in anywhere, more fool me,’ she slurred, holding a bottle of vodka.
‘Well, you can get lost,’ Nowak said aggressively. ‘You aren’t welcome here.’
‘Steady on,’ said Jack.
‘Heard about your little celebration,’ she said with a sneer. ‘For getting off a rape? Thought I’d come and tell everyone what you’re really like.’
‘You’re drunk.’ Nowak grabbed her arm. ‘You think anyone will listen?’ He pulled her towards the stairs.
‘Get your hands off me,’ she yelled, her words descending into a sob.
‘Stop it, Gustaw.’ Jack tried to pull Nowak’s arm away, allowing Lauren to break free.
She half-ran, half-stumbled across the terrace.
Jack followed her.
She stood on a chair and climbed up onto one of the pillars, balancing in her stilettos.
‘Lauren?’ Jack said, his voice filled with panic.
‘Don’t come any closer,’ she shouted, the exertion causing her to wobble.
Jack’s mouth went dry. ‘What are you doing? You’re going to fall!’
‘Think I’ll make your party go with a bang,’ she sneered, followed by manic laughter.
‘She wants to jump, then let her,’ Nowak called out from behind Jack.
‘Shut up,’ Jack ordered. Then, to Lauren: ‘Come down, you’re not thinking straight.’
‘Jump, you bitch, no one cares.’
‘I said, shut up,’ Jack repeated, keeping his eyes fixed on Lauren.
‘Or maybe you want me to fuck you first?’
Without thinking, Jack swiveled around and punched Nowak full on the face. He fell to the ground, out cold. Jack turned back to Lauren. ‘Ignore him, let me help you down.’
