Catalyst

by Michael Knaggs

  “I am aware,” he said, in a voice which was disproportionately loud for his size, “of the depth of interest in this case throughout the country and the heightened feelings it has stimulated in many people. The presence of so many onlookers outside the court this morning is evidence of that, and the number of people intent on observing this event who have failed to gain access to the public gallery today is unprecedented in my experience. However, I must insist that those privileged to be sitting in witness of the due process of law in this courtroom be good enough to respect their role as silent observers. The defendant will be treated in exactly the same way as any other in his position with no regard for the amount of attention he has attracted outside this court. I am sure I can depend on your cooperation, but in the event that I am proved wrong in that assumption, I will have no hesitation in quickly removing any transgressor from the room.”

  There was a respectful nodding from the gallery and people leant forward in their seats in anticipation of the judicial vehicle slipping smoothly into gear. They did not have to wait long for the first stutter of the engine.

  The Clerk of the Court began to read the charge.

  The Defence Counsel rose to his feet. Dean Calvert was tall, slim and good-looking, but whereas his appearance and posture radiated confidence, he seemed a little hesitant and his face was slightly flushed.

  “M’lord, if it pleases the court, before my client is asked to respond to the charge, he respectfully requests that he may make his plea against an alternative charge; that of ‘justifiable homicide’.”

  Justice Templar took a long time in responding, dragging out the counsel’s discomfort.

  “Why on earth should that ‘please the court’, as you put it, Mr Calvert? I am sure you are aware – or certainly should be – that such a plea is preferentially available only to members of the police and armed forces in cases where they deem in mitigation that their sworn duty requires such action. How can that possibly apply to the defendant?”

  “Mr Lorimar has requested that his case be viewed in such a way, because he acted selflessly on behalf of a community rather than for his own ends. My client believes that, although he received no direct order to carry out the deed, he was driven by the same motives as the aforementioned agencies of law and national security.”

  Forgetting, or ignoring, the judge’s plea for quiet surveillance, a low muttering spread around the higher tiers of the room.

  At this very early stage of the proceedings, the judge showed clear signs of irritation, which he made no attempt to conceal from the packed gallery. He looked sternly around them like a teacher rudely interrupted by a restless class of pupils. A hush returned, and Justice Templar directed his attention back to the Defence Counsel.

  “Could you please approach the bench, Mr Calvert, and you too, Ms Cartwright,” turning also to the Prosecution Counsel. Penny Cartwright was almost a head shorter than her opponent and had a rather overly-rounded figure. The large expressive eyes in her pretty, heart-shaped face opened even wider at the summons.

  The two counsels duly stood before the judge, who spoke quietly to them, his comments beyond the hearing of the gallery.

  “Mr Calvert, I think it is in the interest of public confidence in a system which has already taken a battering as a result of this gentleman’s actions, that we avoid any attempts at turning this into a sort of cabaret. You are well aware of the rules relating to a plea of justifiable homicide and did not need me to publicly define them for the benefit of the press. I am sure they will derive some interesting headlines from our little exchange, but let us not assist them any further in doing their job. If you require a brief time out with your client to explain the simplicity of choice regarding his plea, then I will allow it; in fact, I insist on it. But I will not tolerate any more semantic trickery, Mr Calvert. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, m’lord.” Dean Calvert nodded, respectfully.

  “And you, too, Ms Cartwright?”

  “Yes, m’lord,” said Penny Cartwright.

  The two counsels, both duly admonished, and one silently indignant, returned to their respective positions in court.

  “Court will adjourn for thirty minutes,” boomed the judge.

  “All rise!” The Clerk of the Court.

  Justice Templar glided from the room, as the galley became instantly animated and the prisoner was led from the dock to meet with his counsel.

  Exactly thirty minutes later, with the accused back in place and all officials in readiness, the judge returned and the court stood again at the prompting of the Clerk. When everyone was settled and duly hushed by his sweeping glare, which seemed to dare anyone to make a noise, he turned again to the Defence Counsel.

  “Mr Calvert, have you apprised your client of his very short list of options in responding to the eagerly awaited question?”

  “Yes, m’lord.”

  “Then let us put it to the test.” He turned to the Clerk of the Court.

  “Proceed.”

  “James Philip Lorimar, you are charged that on the 7th of May this year, you did wilfully and deliberately shoot to death James Anthony Brady. Do you plead Guilty or Not Guilty?”

  The atmosphere in the courtroom was electric. There was no sound at all, but an almost tangible feeling of eager expectancy, which was quickly heightened by the lack of any response from the defendant. After several moments, he turned to his counsel and beckoned him across. Dean Calvert went hurriedly to him and Lorimar bent forward to whisper in his ear. Justice Templar was losing patience; after three quarters of an hour in court, he had failed to extract a plea from the prisoner.

  “Am I missing something here?” he said, to the court in general. “Could the Counsel for the Defence perhaps assist me in getting past this normally straightforward and brief stage in the proceedings?”

  “Our apologies, m’lord, but my client wishes to know why he has not been asked to plead to all three killings when, I think it is safe to assume, even at this delicate judicial stage, that they were perpetrated simultaneously by the same party, be it by my client, or by person or persons unknown. Also, he points out, that the original charge shortly following his arrest was the killing of all three victims.”

  Owen Templar held the barrister’s eyes for a full ten seconds before the latter dropped his gaze to the papers in his hand.

  “Please approach the bench again, Mr Calvert,” he said in a loud, almost threatening, whisper. “You too, Ms Cartwright.”

  They stood before him like naughty children. Again he spoke softly to them but this time he seemed less concerned as to whether their conversation could be heard or not.

  “Tell me, have you two met prior to your arriving in court today?” he asked.

  The two counsels looked at each other in puzzlement before responding.

  “Of course, m’lord.”

  “Yes, m’lord.”

  “And what did you talk about – when you met previously?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Penny. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what… ”

  The judge interrupted, now lowering his voice.

  “The weather, perhaps? The appalling state of the motorways? You see, what I would have expected you to talk about were certain aspects of what I personally think is an extremely important case. I am led to believe, in fact, by an even wiser person than me, if you can even dream that such an entity exists, that it is unprecedented in terms of its high profile. Do you not agree that this case warrants that description?”

  “Of course, m’lord,” replied Penny. “We are privileged to be… ”

  “Then how can it reasonably be that you, Ms Cartwright, have not seen fit to let Defence Counsel know in advance the precise extent of the charge that you are bringing against this man?”

  “Well, m’lord… ”

  “And, you, Mr Calvert. Why did you not ensure that you had all the information to pass on to your client?”

  The Defence Counsel did not attempt to answer th
e question, but asked one of his own.

  “Might we have another word with you in private, m’lord? I do not believe it should be necessary for another adjournment, and I do feel that if the simple issue of the precise charge is resolved, my client will fully cooperate in the expedition of this case.”

  “I do hope so,” said the judge. “He seems more interested in exhibition than expedition right now. Very well, fifteen minutes.”

  The judge explained that there would be a brief pause in the proceedings but charged everyone to remain quietly in their seats.

  Away from the court, and with a gallantry which surprised his opponent, Dean Calvert attempted to mollify Judge Templar.

  “I sincerely apologise, sir, for my client’s response to the charge and for any confusion over the specific wording. Penny is blameless in this; she did inform me that he would be charged with the one killing and I passed that on to Mr Lorimar. In the absence of his making any objection – or even comment – at the time, I assumed he had accepted this. I believe he will plead guilty to a charge which includes all three killings, and I request that the charge be revised to reflect this. If Penny agrees.”

  “Well, Penny?” asked the judge. “I’m not sure why he should be charged with just one under the circumstances, anyway. It’s like going back in time twelve years to before the abrogation of double jeopardy. Why exactly did you choose to do that?”

  “Because we have no hard evidence, as such. Not even a signed statement from Lorimar. Just information he imparted at an interview, and he said nothing at all after he was cautioned. He could change his mind now about his intention to get rid of the brothers, and I’m not sure what we could do other than pile up circumstantial evidence. To get a conviction from a jury for this man I think we’d need more than that. And if we couldn’t get ‘fresh and viable’ new evidence – as the manual puts it – then it gave us a chance to get a different slant on what we have got to bring a further… ”

  “But he’s obviously going to plead guilty,” said the judge, interrupting and not even bothering to consult Dean Calvert. “He virtually did when he asked for justifiable homicide. He can’t suddenly decide he didn’t kill them just because we won’t change the words.”

  “True, sir,” said Penny, “but I certainly wasn’t convinced of that before the trial started. And I thought it would be easier to bring that second case, if necessary, using that circumstantial evidence again if… ”

  “Yes, I do take your point, but it’s just confused everybody. God knows, we look like we don’t know what the hell we’re doing out there. And looks don’t deceive on this occasion. Now please. Let’s get our act together.”

  He turned to the Prosecuting Counsel.

  “Penny, you will change the charge to include all three victims, right?”

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Dean Calvert.

  “Dean, is Lorimar going to plead guilty – you do have some inkling, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir – definitely.”

  “Definitely you have some inkling or definitely he’s going to plead guilty?”

  “Both, sir.”

  Owen Templar smiled to himself.

  “Then what?”

  “Sir?”

  “Well, that can’t be it, surely. We have an audience to satisfy. Somehow I can’t believe he says ‘guilty, m’lord’ and I say – ‘you’re a bad boy and I’m putting you away.’ What else?”

  “I’ll make a plea in mitigation and with your permission, sir, I’d like to call some witnesses to support that plea, as well as questioning the accused himself. I know this is a little unusual – I admit these are not technically character witnesses – but there are precedents… ”

  “Okay, that will keep the show on the road, but to what end, Dean? I have to impose a mandatory life sentence – I assume he is going to plead guilty to murder. He’s not claiming manslaughter, is he, for God’s sake? I’ve seen Prosecution’s Exhibits A, B and C – the photos of the three clean head shots. Or self-defence? Mind you, nothing would surprise me today,” he added, half to himself. “The only mitigation can be what happened before the day of the killing, and that only reinforces premeditation.”

  “Nevertheless, sir, there is still the subject of parole. And if I could be so bold, I believe an out-and-out condemnation of this man as a cold-blooded killer may be perceived as showing a lack of sensitivity and empathy with the mass of people who have been touched by his act. And should you agree with that point, sir, you will need some evidence to support any conciliatory remarks you choose to make. So with your permission… ”

  Justice Templar smiled to himself at the Defence Counsel’s gentle prompting, laden with respect, but very much to the point.

  “Very well. Penny, were you aware of this? Are you okay with it?”

  “I was aware of Dean’s intentions in the event of a guilty plea, and I’ve no objection,” said Penny. “It goes without saying that I reserve the right to cross-examine anyone Dean calls to the stand.”

  “Right. And that’s it?”

  “I believe my client will ask to make a statement from the stand,” said Dean. “He has asked if he can make this after sentencing. I have informed him that his only opportunity will be just before you pass sentence.”

  “Well, you can always ask. It’s unprecedented, but so is everything until it happens the first time. Let’s get back in there.”

  The court stood again as the judge and two counsels returned.

  “Shall we try again, Mr Calvert? Strike three!”

  He nodded to the Clerk who restated the charge including the names of all three victims. This time, the accused’s hesitation was for effect only, and very brief.

  “Guilty, m’lord.”

  The courtroom erupted in an explosion of shouts and cheers as people sprang to their feet. Owen Templar shouted for order as both counsels turned to the gallery with gestures for calm. Within a minute people were seated again and a tense stability had returned to the proceedings. The judge repeated his earlier warning to the gallery, but this time more out of procedural protocol than with any real threat.

  “I ask you, again, to observe the rules of this court by remaining silent. You are not participants in this process, but observers. You are welcome to be present here in that capacity but, as I stated earlier, I will not tolerate people overstepping the very distinct boundary of their involvement. Thank you.”

  With the plea of guilty, several people entered the courtroom who had been waiting to be called as prosecution witnesses. These included DCI David Gerrard and DS Jo Cottrell who sat down together a few rows behind the Prosecution Counsel.

  When all the newcomers were seated, the judge turned to the Defence Counsel, opening his arms in a gesture of invitation for him to speak.

  “Thank you, m’lord,” said Dean. “I wish to make a plea in mitigation on behalf of my client.”

  “Really,” said the judge.

  “Yes, m’lord.”

  Dean cleared his throat with some drama and addressed the courtroom generally, moving his eyes to all areas to include everyone.

  “You see before you a man who has experienced much violence in his lifetime. During a military career spanning one quarter of a century, he has seen service in Northern Ireland, as a teenager, and later, in the special forces, in Iraq, Africa and Afghanistan. This man has put himself at risk in three different continents for the benefit of others with no thought for his own safety – his own life, even. Our country has required him – ordered him – to carry out such acts on behalf of the people in this room, people whose lives are safer and more secure as a result of his unquestioning fulfilment of these duties.”

  There were mumbles of agreement and support and some gentle hand-clapping from the public gallery. It quickly subsided without the judge’s prompting.

  “It is against this background and in the context of his alleged crime that… ”

  “Not ‘alleged’ any more, Mr Calvert,”
interrupted the judge.

  “Thank you, m’lord, for pointing out that technicality,” said Dean, stiffly. “As I was saying, it is against this background and in the context of his crime that we must judge him. I ask you to consider the frustration of such a man, trained to act, selflessly, for the benefit of the good citizens of this country, finding himself in a situation, threatened with his own life, but with the opportunity, as he saw it, to put right a situation which had brought distress and fear to so many innocent people.

  “It is my intention to present a clear picture of the events leading up to, and during, that evening. Because I believe that the provocation faced by James Lorimar at the time, and his previous knowledge of the nature of the three brothers and their heinous acts of local terrorism, are enough to understand, if not condone, his actions. And I believe it is imperative that this should be understood before deciding this man’s future. In order to present this picture as objectively as possible, m’lord, I would ask the indulgence of the court in allowing my calling a number of witnesses to set the scene and to recount the story of that fateful evening.”

  The judge nodded grandly and benignly, as if bestowing an enormous favour.

  “Thank you, m’lord. Call Lucille Ambrose!”

  Lucille took the stand.

  “Mrs Ambrose, you live at Number 11, St George’s Close, on the Cullen Field Estate, is that right?” asked Dean.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And you and your husband were a Mrs Alma Deverall’s next-door neighbour for how long?”

  “About ten years.”

  “And could you describe to the court the problems this elderly lady encountered from the gangs on the estate?”

  “Yes, well, a couple of years ago, she reported some lads setting fire to a car on Kingdom Road. They must have seen her watching or found out, because they gave her lots of grief after that. I mean we all got shouted at and jostled and such at times, but this was really personal.”