by Conrad Jones
“Take a seat at the back please, Mr Bernstein.” The prosecution lawyer, Carol Smythe, smiled and tried to make them feel more comfortable. “Sarah, if you could sit here next to me please.”
Sarah shuffled toward a long wooden bench piled high with manila files and lever arch boxes. Her hands were pulled up inside her coat sleeves, just the tips of her fingers showed. Her face blushed pink and her head was down, shoulders stooped. The lawyer pulled out a pine chair and patted the red seat pad, indicating to Sarah to sit down. The young girl flopped into the chair and stared at her nails. She looked like a frightened young girl.
“Could we introduce everyone please, so that Sarah knows what is going to happen today,” a grey haired woman spoke. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a bun on the back of her head, and rimless spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She peered over the lenses as she spoke. “I`m Louise, and I represent the Crown Prosecution Service.” Her thin lips formed a smile, but there was no warmth in it.
“Margaret Bangor-Jones, representing the defence,” a crisp, assertive, female voice came from the right hand side of the solicitors bench. Sarah stole a glance in that direction. The defence lawyer had jet-black hair tied into a ponytail; it shined as the electric lights reflected from it. She was early thirties, stunning, with high cheekbones and full lips. Sarah looked away when she caught her eye. Her eyes seemed to look inside her and read her mind.
“Mr Bernstein. For your benefit I will explain what will happen,” the clerk removed her glasses and spoke to the victim`s father at the back of the room. He was ten yards away from her, at the most. The room was no bigger than a large living room. There was no dark wood panelling in there. The room was windowless but well lit; the austerity of the court building had been omitted purposely, because of the nature of the cases dealt with here. “We will gather the details of the prosecution`s case, and Sarah`s statement. Then the defence`s representative will ask questions based on the statements from the accused.” The thin smile returned. “Is that clear to you, Sarah?”
“Yes,” Sarah nodded mutely and stared at her fingernails again.
“This is not a trial, Sarah. We want to establish the facts so that we can make a decision to prosecute your attackers.”
Mr Bernstein shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had not been given access to Sarah`s evidence, and as such he had a gut wrenching feeling inside. He couldn’t help but feel anger and revulsion toward his daughter. Sarah had been the apple of his eye when she was younger, and he struggled to remember at which point she had grown up. One minute she was playing with dolls, the next she was having consensual sex with one boy, and accusing several others of drug-induced rape. He wanted to feel sympathy for his little girl, but he had nothing inside but disgust. As for the pregnancy, it had caused blazing rows in the Bernstein home. Sarah was adamant that she loved Malik, and the child was his. There was no talking to her about abortion. The shame she had brought on the family amongst the Jewish community was too much to bear. Mr Bernstein was struggling to cope with the situation. It was a never-ending nightmare.
“Ms Smythe, if you could begin please,” the clerk placed her spectacles on, and pushed them up her nose with her index finger.
Carol Smythe shuffled her papers and remained seated as she spoke. “The outline of the case is as follows. Sarah Bernstein is fourteen years old, and pregnant. She was involved in a relationship with her boyfriend, Malik Shah. Malik is a sixteen year old male, from the same school.” The clerk looked down her nose at Sarah as her lawyer detailed the basis of the accusations. “Sarah attended several parties with her boyfriend, and over a period of a few months a sexual relationship between them ensued.”
The clerk and the defence lawyer scribbled notes as Carol Smythe spoke. Mr Bernstein felt physically sick listening to her. He wished that there was a window in the room, so that he could look out of it and pretend that this wasn`t happening. After everything he had done to educate his daughter, this was how she repaid him. She gave her body to a Muslim boy, at the tender age of fourteen. Her grandparents would be turning in their graves.
“It was at one of these parties, February the second, to be precise, that Malik Shah gave drugs to Sarah. Cannabis and an acid tablet. They went into a bedroom and had consensual sexual intercourse. Later on Malik gave her tequila shots. Sarah took them willingly; however, on this occasion she believes that she was spiked; drugged with a sedative such as Rohypnol. The drug is used as a sedative. It can affect both the motor functions, and the memory.”
“I think we can skip the medical blurb, Ms Smythe. We are all familiar with this drug, unfortunately,” the clerk interrupted.
“Later Sarah remembers waking up in the bedroom again. There were several males there, and they were carrying out various sexual acts on her, including non-consensual intercourse. Sarah has memories of what happened, but she couldn`t do anything to stop it. The names of the accused are noted in the records. Although we admit that the prior sex with Malik Shah was consensual, he was complicit in the rape because he administered the drug.”
Mr Bernstein wiped his hands against his pinstripe trousers. It was his best suit, and under normal circumstances he wouldn`t dream of doing such a thing. His hands were sweaty, and his stomach felt knotted. The thought of his daughter having sex at fourteen was sickening. Worse still was the fact that she had been drugged and abused by a group of men. He wanted to throw up, scream and kill them all at the same time.
“Is there any evidence of the use of Rohypnol Ms Smythe?” the clerk asked. She raised her eyebrows quizzically.
“No. There was too much time elapsed between the rape and the reporting of it.”
“Alleged rape,” Margaret Bangor-Jones objected.
“We`re not in court yet!” Carol Smythe retorted.
“Quite, save the legal jousting for the trial please Ms Bangor-Jones,” the clerk looked over her glasses like a headmistress scolding her class.
“Then I think we must have more robust evidence to include it in the case,” the clerk looked concerned. It seemed the entire allegation hinged on proving that Sarah had been drugged against her will, and then abused.
“Bottles of Rohypnol were found in the possession of Malik Shah, Ashwan Pindar, and Amir Patel,” the prosecutor pointed out the evidence gathered by the police, upon the arrest of the accused boys.
“I see. Okay we`ll allow it for now,” the thin smile flashed briefly across her lips. “Ms Bangor-Jones, your questions please.”
Sarah felt a chill run down her spine as the defence lawyer turned half toward her, so that she could address the clerk and Sarah simultaneously. Her face blushed red and she pulled her hands back into her sleeves as a tortoise would its head. Her father put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward protectively.
“How long had you been seeing Malik before you had sex with him?” The defence lawyer asked. Her black hair shone. She smiled warmly at Sarah, disarmingly.
“I can`t remember,” Sarah mumbled.
“I`m sure you can remember, Sarah, if you try.”
“I can`t.”
“Sarah has answered the question twice,” Carol Smythe interrupted.
“Make your point please,” the clerk said without looking up.
“It was your first date with him, Sarah.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Mr Bernstein was outraged. He stood up and folded his arms defiantly.
“Mr Bernstein, while I realise that this is difficult to listen to as a parent and guardian of a young girl, you must understand that we are trying to save your daughter the trauma of doing this in open court,” the defence lawyer spoke calmly and with sympathy in her tone.
“Mr Bernstein, my honourable colleague is right, however I do need you to justify that statement Ms Bangor-Jones,” the clerk said. “How exactly can you know that?”
“I have statements from witnesses who saw Malik Shah coming out of the bedroom waving a used condom over his head and bragging tha
t, `I took her cherry on the first date, a hole in one`.” Ms Bangor-Jones looked embarrassed as she glanced at Mr Bernstein and his daughter. Mr Bernstein crumpled into his chair, broken and confused. “If I may continue?”
“Please do,” the clerk said looking down at her notes. Her face had darkened to a scowl. Nobody enjoyed watching a young girl being dissected publicly, but this had to be done.
“Do you remember the night when Malik and Ashwan drove you home after a party?”
Sarah`s head stooped lower. She stared at her fingers and bit her lip. Mr Bernstein could tell by her posture and body language that Sarah knew what was coming.
“Sarah?” the clerk prompted her.
“Yes I remember,” she whispered.
“They stopped the car near to your house and you performed oral sex on both of them,” Margaret Bangor-Jones spoke calmly. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” Sarah whispered. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her chin sunk to her chest. “Malik told me it was to prove how much I loved him, making his friend feel good. I didn’t want to.”
“Oh my god!” Mr Bernstein took a deep intake of breath as she spoke. He couldn’t get the sickening images out of his mind. Tears of anger leaked from the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away quickly.
“I do not want to make this any more painful than it is already, Sarah, but you had performed sexual acts on all of the boys that you have accused of raping you, at one time or another, prior to this allegation, had you not?”
The prosecution lawyer was aghast, as was the clerk. This revelation had come unexpectedly. Mr Bernstein sat open mouthed as he digested the information.
“Is this true, Sarah? A simple yes or no will suffice,” the clerk removed her glasses. She had heard enough in five short minutes to realise that this case was going nowhere.
“Yes, it`s true, but not that night. They drugged me, and they raped me, all of them did.” Her voice was monotone, defeated.
The legal representatives looked at each other, and a silent communication passed between them. Raped or not, Sarah would never be believed in a court of law by a jury of ordinary people. The prosecution had to prove beyond all reasonable doubt that guilty was the only verdict. Sarah`s prior behaviour would make that impossible.
“I can see no point in proceeding any further with this. I`ll submit my findings to your offices and the police by finish of work tomorrow. Thank you both for your time, and thank you Mr Bernstein. This cannot have been easy for you. I would thank your lawyer to recommend some counselling for Sarah, and your family.”
“You don`t believe her do you?” Mr Bernstein was livid. He wasn’t sure who he was angry at. Sarah? The Crown Prosecution? Himself? How had he allowed this to happen?
“Whether I believe Sarah or not, Mr Bernstein, is irrelevant. I have to assess the evidence from both parties and gauge the probability of gaining a conviction,” the clerk removed her glasses and looked at him with a stern face. He had to face the truth, like it or not. “Sarah has given her evidence, as have the accused. You have heard some of it yourself, Mr Bernstein. If you were on a jury could you convict, beyond all reasonable doubt?”
“These animals put my son in intensive care, they cut him with a knife, and now they have raped my fourteen-year old daughter. She is fourteen!” Mr Bernstein`s face was purple, and his jowls shook as he spoke. The veins at his temple throbbed angrily. “Are they going to get away with this?”
The room was silent. The lawyers began to pack away their files into briefcases. The clerk shook her head and stood up from her chair. She looked as if she was going to speak again, but then she thought better of it and walked hurriedly toward a door at the back of the chamber. Carol Smythe led Sarah away from the bench toward her father. The young girl looked pallid and drawn. She couldn’t look her father in the eye. Sarah kept her head down and walked past him, heading for the doors. Mr Bernstein followed her with a look of disdain on his face.
“Don`t be too hard on her, Mr Bernstein. For what it`s worth, I believe that she was drugged and abused. If it means anything to you,” Carol Smyth tried to smile.
“Your opinion is of no importance to me. It doesn’t mean anything to me at all, absolutely nothing,” Mr Bernstein turned and walked out of the courtroom. He felt like his daughter had died. He felt like he was a grieving father, pining for his innocent little girl that had somehow been lost. As they left the antechamber, the two detectives turned to face them. Mr Bernstein`s face flushed with anger. His face was like thunder.
“It didn’t go well?” Detective Sergeant Aspel asked sheepishly.
“You knew what evidence they had, contrary to Sarah`s statement?” Mr Bernstein`s voice was hushed, almost a whisper.
“We interviewed the attackers, Mr Bernstein,” Detective Wallace nodded solemnly.
“Then you knew what they would do to her in there, and yet you allowed me to take my daughter into that room, and made me sit there and listen to that?”
The detectives looked at the floor, disappointed, guilty and embarrassed all at the same time. “Mr Bernstein, we interviewed your daughter, and we interviewed her attackers. We believed Sarah`s version of events. That`s why we proceeded.”
“We`re leaving,” Mr Bernstein walked away from them and spoke to his wife. She was holding Sarah in her arms, the young girl sobbing uncontrollably. “We`re leaving now.”
“Mr Bernstein, this was always going to be difficult....” Detective Sergeant Aspel began, but he was cut short.
“Difficult?” Mr Bernstein turned to face them, his voice boomed across the waiting area. “Difficult?”
The people in close proximity fell silent and all eyes watched the drama unfolding before them. The detectives were fully aware that the eyes of the public were on them. Some of their old criminal adversaries were present, and they sniggered as they watched the officers cringing.
“Mr Bernstein, we acted with Sarah`s best interests at heart.”
“You raped her again in public. You put her in that room knowing full well what would happen.” Mr Bernstein began to shake. His voice cracked with emotion. He pointed a shaking finger toward the courtroom. “You let me take her in there, knowing she would be humiliated in front of me, her father.”
“Mr Bernstein,” Aspel tried to placate him, but he took his wife by the arm, and guided his daughter through the watching crowd.
The waiting area remained silent for long minutes as the embarrassed detectives followed them at a distance.
Chapter 20
Malik Shah
“Do you think we endear ourselves to the people we do business with?” Malik turned angrily and waved a gloved hand around the hallway as Lana ran up the stairs. She was hysterical.
“Do you think I care?” she screamed. “Get out of my house, you animals, and if Mamood isn’t back here tomorrow, I`m calling the police, and to hell with the both of you!” The bedroom door slammed closed.
“Get changed, Ash. We need to find out who is doing this.”
An hour later, they were driving along the dock road, heading north. To their left were acres of unused dockland, silted up canals and rusted anchor rings. On the right towered ancient warehouses, once the centre of international trade, now derelict and deserted. Malik indicated, and turned his BMW off the main road, steering it between two giant grain stores. The buildings were twelve storeys high, built from chocolate brown brick. He slowed the vehicle and turned off the headlights. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they saw two Asian men sat in a Mercedes a few hundred yards away, down an alleyway. The driver flashed the headlights and pulled the vehicle away from the kerb, driving toward them slowly.
“We`ll find out who is fucking with us, and we`ll wipe them off the planet. Do you have the balls to do this, Ash?”
Ash looked at the approaching vehicle and swallowed hard. He recognised the two men inside it. They`d been with them since their school days. They didn`t have the IQ to help run the organisation, but they were l
oyal to Malik. They used them as hired muscle, stone cold killers that they employed when they needed to `disappear` somebody. Ashwan was tired of the killing. He was tired of being on the wrong side of the law, and he was tired of Malik Shah. They were no better than the men that had killed his dealers in the blink of an eye, and kidnapped his son. He chose to live in this world, and financially it had been kind to him, but when you work with vicious animals, it is easy to be bitten. For the first time in his life he wished he`d chosen a different path. Lana would never be the same again, how could she be?
“What are you going to do with Abdul`s body?” Ash was shaking as he replayed the night`s events in his mind. “I cannot involve the police. They said they would kill Mamood if I didn’t do as they say.”
“You know how it works, he`s on his way to feed the fishes tonight.” Malik replied. They disposed of bodies the same way every time. The corpses were strapped to gym weights with duct tape and then wrapped tightly in several rolls of chicken wire. The wire ensured that the weights never dropped of the body, no matter how rotten it became, and it allowed bottom feeders and crustaceans to devour the corpse through the mesh. The body of Abdul Salim would be gone in less than a month.
