Beyond the Realms

by Gill Mather

  Hugh took Jim through his initial statement and interview with the police and then his wider actions on the night in question. Before the prosecution had a chance to raise it in cross-examination, he asked Jim why he hadn't mentioned in his initial police interview the stop off at the bank to withdraw cash and the time he hence must have arrived home.

  "Well I had no cause to. I didn’t think it were relevant. I hadn't hurt Mr. Sharpe. I hadn't done anything to him at all. Obviously I didn’t know what time he got home and I couldn't remember exactly what time I got home either so I just told them about what happened when I did get home."

  "Why did you go to the cash point that night?"

  "So as to be able to buy food the next day. I'd been away for several days."

  Hugh took Jim through his statement. Though nervous, Jim didn’t falter in what he said. He repeated the facts just as he had in the police interview all those months ago. No-one had coached him. It was just the truth. "Mr. Bolton, when you found Mr. Sharpe lying there at the bottom of his steps, did it occur to you that he might be injured?"

  "No. Not at all. I just thought he'd had too much to drink. I could smell beer strongly. I didn’t know of course that he'd had a full bottle of beer on him that broke. It was a cold night and I just thought he'd come round soon and get himself indoors. I'd often seen him coming home at night in states of inebriation before, staggering like and then making a terrific noise next door getting himself up the stairs and undressed and into bed so I didn’t think that much of it."

  "Did you see or feel the glass from the broken bottle yourself?"

  "No. It was very dark indeed. My torch had faded. If I'd known there was broken glass about then I might have thought Sharpe had hurt himself and done something about it but I didn't know. And I was extremely tired from the drive back from my daughter's. I'd got angry when I found this summons at home, but after finding Sharpe out cold on the ground so I couldn't talk to him, it just evaporated and I just wanted to get home and get to bed as soon as possible."

  "Mr. Bolton, have you ever physically attacked Mr. Sharpe in any way."

  "No. Never. I had to defend myself a couple of days before he was injured when I went round there to try to talk to him about the drains and he came at me with a hammer. I had to push him away from me. He's not….wasn't….a very big man so I just had to put my hand out to stop him then I left straightaway. He obviously wasn’t going to be reasonable and I didn’t want any trouble."

  "Mr. Bolton, on the night Mr. Sharpe had his accident, were you in any way responsible for what happened to him."

  "No I wasn’t."

  "Did you push him or kick him or do anything to him that might have made him fall and have a head injury?"

  "No I didn’t."

  “Mr. Bolton, on the night in question did you try to hurt in any way, injure or kill your neighbour Mr. Sharpe?"

  "No. I did not."

  "Thank you Mr. Bolton."

  In cross-examination, Jim stuck to his account of events. He did as Orielle had coached him and took deep breaths and waited a few seconds if he started to feel angry or threatened. He remembered her words: That it was the job of the prosecuting barrister to try to break him down, to wrong-foot him, to get him confused and if possible get him to admit to hurting Sharpe; that the prosecuting barrister might sound as though he himself had a personal interest in the matter and was himself deeply affronted, bitterly offended by Jim's story and devoutly believed that Jim had murdered Mr. Sharpe. Orielle had said that Jim must at all times during his cross-examination keep these things at the forefront of his mind and not allow the attitude of the prosecuting barrister to make him nervous, to undermine him, to make him even start to feel that he was somehow in the wrong. Jim was to remember that that was the job of the prosecuting barrister. He was paid to do this, like an actor to appear to think that Jim was a murderer so that the jury might start to think that way too. It was just a tactic. Jim should remember that this was an entirely artificial stance that was being adopted against him. The man in the gown and the wig would go home that night and forget all about this case whatever the outcome; probably in fact be mugging up on an entirely different case already for tomorrow or the next day. That was how it worked. It was a circus, a performance.

  Jim remembered gratefully that he had been informed about these things that he would never otherwise have considered as the man in the wig and gown asked him question after question after question. The man started quietly enough, asking him nicely to clarify certain points. Then suddenly, he had puffed himself up, assumed a hostile expression and said to Jim:

  “Mr. Bolton. Are you really seriously expecting the jury to believe that you had a serious dispute with your neighbour Mr. Sharpe who had actually started court proceedings against you and that you went to his house to speak to him in an angry frame of mind that night, and that Mr. Sharpe ended up seriously injured but that you had nothing at all to do with that?”

  Jim blanched under the sudden attack. He took deep breaths and said:

  “It’s the truth. I didn't do anything to him.”

  Then the barrister had started on things Jim hadn't thought of. Why hadn't he gone to see a Solicitor about his neighbour's attitude regarding the drains as soon as that had become apparent? Why had he instead tried to tough it out direct with his neighbour, a man he already disliked and who was himself a retired Solicitor who knew the law?

  Jim had never considered seeing a Solicitor. The question threw him and made him feel, as Orielle had forewarned him, that he himself was in the wrong. So he took more deep breaths and waited a moment to collect his thoughts. He had no reason to feel he had done anything wrong he reasoned. Orielle had said that this man would plant doubts in his mind, get him to worry about irrelevancies, make him think he should have acted differently when he had no cause to. So he said what he honestly felt which was that he didn’t regularly or indeed ever go running to a Solicitor to help with any disputes. In fact he didn’t have disputes with people as a rule. He got along with people. He found most people very reasonable. He didn't want any trouble and some time before Mr. Sharpe was injured he, Jim, had removed his security light rather than let it continue to be the cause of friction with Mr. Sharpe. He found it hard to believe that Sharpe was being so difficult about this issue of the drains which was so essential to him. And as for Sharpe going to court and trying to get an injunction against him, Jim had never encountered such a thing between neighbours. He couldn't believe a neighbour would do such a th…..

  At that point the judge stopped him saying kindly that he had answered the question quite adequately and he, the judge, thought that the jury would understand his position without further explanation.

  “Mr. Bolton, if you had got to Mr. Sharpe’s home and found the door shut and Mr. Sharpe not lying on the ground, what would you have done?”

  “Well I suppose I’d have knocked on the door. At that time of night, he would have been unlikely to still have been out.”

  “So you did know what the time was when you got home. I’m just asking because earlier in your evidence you said you didn't know what time you got home. So what time of night would that have been that you would have expected to find Mr. Sharpe at home?”

  “Well I’m not sure. I just thought it was some time after eleven probably, or something like that, and that he would have been at home.”

  “Are you sure that’s not actually what happened? That you got there, knocked on the door, that Mr. Sharpe came out, that an argument ensued and that you pushed Mr. Sharpe so that he fell down and hit his head? And then, fearing the consequences for yourself, you shut the door and made off, leaving Mr. Sharpe there to his fate? Is that what happened?”

  “No. No not at all.” Frowning Jim collected himself and tried to think clearly. “Forensics said he still had his key on a cord round his neck. I couldn't have locked the door.”

  Counsel looked down at his notes. “It was a Yale lock actually. If you’
d shut the door from the outside, it would have locked itself.”

  An adrenaline surge cleared Jim’s head. “Well that’s not what happened anyway. I was a yard or so away from the door. To get to it I would have had to walk over Mr. Sharpe. My footsteps would have been on him and on the doorsteps and they weren’t. You can't say things like that. You can't make up things like that!”

  “But Mr. Sharpe was by all accounts a careful man, Mr. Bolton. He might have come out to speak to you and shut the door himself.”

  “No he didn't. I never spoke to him that night. He was lying on the path when I got there like I said.”

  “But you must admit it’s a possibility.”

  “I don't know. I’d have to think about it a bit more and go through the forensics with my Solicitor.” Jim looked at the Judge. “Can I do that Your Honour?” This wasn't the response prosecuting counsel had expected. Agreement, or bluster and confusion yes. Not a request to go through the forensic evidence.

  “Mr. Fielding,” said the Judge to prosecuting counsel, “if you wished to examine that possibility, you had ample opportunity to question the forensic experts about it earlier on. Now unless you wish yourself to call upon something specific in the forensic evidence that points to that having happened, I suggest you move on.”

  “Your Honour.” Mr. Fielding inclined his head and then turned to Jim again.

  “Mr. Bolton, I’m sure you heard the publican say that Mr. Sharpe was the worse for drink that night and you yourself spoke of him smelling strongly of beer. You must admit that it’s possible that he stopped on the way back to his home for a rest.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “But he might have done that mightn’t he?”

  “No I don't think so.”

  “Why don't you think so?”

  “Because he never did.”

  “How do you know that? Were you in the habit of following him about?”

  “No of course not. But I went to the pub myself sometimes. Or just for a walk. I never saw him stop. No-one ever told me he stopped on the way home. Wherever he went he put his head down and only lifted it to scowl at people.”

  “Please just answer the question Mr. Bolton. Given that you didn't yourself see Mr. Sharpe walk home, that night might Mr. Sharpe have stopped on the way back from the pub? Yes or no.”

  “Well yes I suppose then he might have.”

  “And in that case, when you got home as is alleged about twenty minutes after leaving the cashpoint at Manningtree, looked at your post and came out again, then you would have got to Mr. Sharpe’s door about the same time that he did.”

  “In theory yes. But in fact I didn't get there at the same time as him and anyway, if it had happened that way, when I first got home in my car, I would have likely seen Mr. Sharpe walking along the road and I didn't.”

  “You might have narrowly missed one another though mightn’t you? You might have gone into your house just as Mr. Sharpe was walking round the corner. It might have happened that way mightn’t it?”

  “It might but it didn't.”

  “But you can't be sure of that can you? You can't be sure that Mr. Sharpe might have stopped on the way home for a rest or for some other reason, say to take a stone out of a shoe or because his legs hurt or because he dropped something and took some time to find it or for any other reason. He might have stopped and whether you saw him or not when you arrived home yourself, he might have been walking back to his house and going up his path just as you decided to go out again and go and visit him. That could have happened couldn't it?”

  “It could have.”

  “So your having gone to the cashpoint in Manningtree and having arrived home at approximately eleven twenty would make no difference to your case. Because you would then have got to Mr. Sharpe’s house at about the same time as he did. Isn't that true?”

  Jim had to answer honestly. “I suppose so.”

  “And if it had happened that way, then you would have been in the right place at the right time to have injured your neighbour wouldn't you?”

  “But it didn't….”

  “Please Mr. Bolton again, just answer the question. Yes or no. Would you have been in the right place at the right time to have injured your neighbour?”

  “Yes,” Jim said quickly. “But I didn't hurt him…..” Prosecuting counsel started to try and stop him there but Jim raised his voice determinedly and continued. “Whatever time he got home himself, he was already lying on the ground when I saw him.” Jim was sweating from the effort to keep as calm as he could in the face of this onslaught. He touched his forehead and looked down just hoping that this would stop soon.

  "Mr. Bolton. Looking at it all from another angle, are you sure you didn’t get home that night, looked in your cupboards and then decide you needed to drive back to the bank in Manningtree to withdraw some cash for the next day?"

  "No definitely not. I knew very well I needed the money. I try to plan my finances. I haven't got that much money or income and I have to think about what I'm going to need and when. I deliberately ran down my larder before I went off to visit my daughter so that there wouldn't be perishables in the house that'd get wasted so I knew…."

  "Thank you Mr. Bolton. What seems incredible though is that you didn’t mention this cash withdrawal during your police interview. You were being interviewed about a very serious offence. You knew by that time that the police had your clothes and your torch covered in blood. This was a very serious matter. And yet you completely omitted to mention something apparently now so central to your defence."

  Jim took a few deep breaths. "As I said before," he said, "I had no cause to think about it. I didn’t know what time Mr. Sharpe got home. I hadn't done anything to him. Really, when I was arrested and taken down to the station, it was completely unreal. I couldn't believe it were happening. Nothing like that's ever happened to me…." He stopped at that point and sniffed. He put a hand up to his eyes and wiped them. "I still can't. Believe what's happened to me." He finished.

  Prosecuting counsel allowed some seconds to pass while the defendant recovered his composure.

  "Do you feel able to carry on now Mr. Bolton," he said apparently considerately. Jim said that he did.

  "It's just Mr. Bolton that I've been looking at the timings and in fact there would have been enough time for you to have got home a first time, gone and injured your neighbour, realised what you'd done, driven back to Barclays Bank at Manningtree, drawn out some cash and thus provided yourself with an alibi, driven back home and gone to bed."

  Jim was trying to think about the times, the distances, how long they said it would have taken for him to drive from Manningtree to his home, what time Sharpe had likely got home and what time he, Jim, would have likely got home. But his brain had frozen. He was in a witness box in a courtroom in a completely alien situation. The previous attack on him had worn him out. People were looking at him for a reply. What was he to say? The room was quiet; still as the grave in fact. He swallowed and his breath started to come in gasps. He felt himself swaying. He was faintly conscious of his own Solicitor standing up and saying that he would be addressing the jury later about the times but that what had been suggested wouldn't have been possible. There was no blood in Jim's car. No forensic evidence at all to suggest that….. And then everything went black.

  "JIM. JIM. YOU PASSED out," said a kind voice from afar. The voice of an angel. He wondered for some moments whether he had died and gone to heaven to be with his Dotty.

  "I've been looking at the timings," he heard a voice ringing in his head. "I've been looking at the timings."

  "There would have been enough time for you to…."

  "No, no, no," Jim cried out.

  "It's all right Jim," said the soft female voice. Jim opened his eyes and realised that it was Orielle speaking.

  "I'm right sorry lass. I've let you down." He looked around the small sick room where he had obviously been borne when he passed out. He was lying on a c
ouch.

  "Jim, the Judge is going to adjourn the case until tomorrow. We just need to go back into court for five minutes for a few formalities. When you feel ready, we can go back in and then after that we can leave for the day. I'll drive you if your evidence is finished. You shouldn't drive yourself. In fact you should probably see a doctor. If you want, you can come and stay in our house tonight. We have a small spare room." She tried not to dwell on whose room it had been at one time. "Hugh is with the Judge now and the prosecuting barrister. The jury have sent a message asking if they can deliver a verdict without hearing any further evidence. We'll have to see what happens."

  "Oh Christ. They think I did it!"

  "Actually I rather think it's the opposite and they don’t want to put you through any more punishment."

  "Really lass? Well if you don’t mind my coming back with you. I don’t think I could manage a night on me own after this. Especially not in that house."

  AS HUGH OFTEN said, the cases spoke for themselves, they told their own story without much effort from him. Prosecuting counsel said that he would close his cross-examination without any further questions. Hugh didn’t want to put Jim in the witness box again so Jim was able to stand down.

  The following day, Hugh gave a short address to the jury, going into detail mainly about the timings and that what had been suggested about Jim going back to Manningtree after injuring Sharpe was simply nonsense. He would have had to have driven along the quiet country roads at about a hundred miles an hour to have achieved it. His car had, like his house, been forensically examined. There was no evidence whatsoever that Jim, whose clothes and own skin in fact had been covered in blood, had been in his car again after getting home. Yes he could have got himself cleaned up and put on clean clothes but that would have taken some considerable time. Forensic examinations these days were meticulous. Had he done what the prosecution had suggested, it would have taken him hours to have eliminated enough cellular evidence for the car to have produced no result. Had be been so conniving, Jim would surely have made an effort into the bargain to have ditched his torch somewhere along the way and disposed of his bloody clothes. But none of this had happened. He had gone to bed as he had said, exhausted from his long journey and completely unaware of the danger to and injuries of his neighbour.