by Peter Murphy
‘He apologised and said something like, he didn’t know what had come over him.’
‘Something like? Can you tell the jury precisely what was said?’
‘Not really. I was very shocked that night. I can’t give it to you word for word, but that was what he said.’
Gareth nodded.
‘Did you telephone the police the following morning?’
‘Yes, I certainly did.’
‘And did you go to the police station to make a formal complaint?’
‘I did.’
‘Thank you, Mr Stone. I have no further questions.’
* * *
‘Raymond told you that the vicar had exposed his penis to him, did he, Mr Stone?’ Ben asked.
‘He did.’
‘In so many words?’
‘Yes.
‘Using the word “penis”?’
Hesitation.
‘Yes.’
‘He came out with that very word himself, did he? You didn’t have to prompt him?’
‘I don’t know what you mean?’
‘Well, boys have different words for it, don’t they? “Penis” is a grown-up word, isn’t it? I just wondered whether “penis” was the word he used, or the word you are using for what he said?’
‘No, he used the word himself.’
‘I see. And he told you that the vicar had touched his penis?’
‘He did.’
‘Again, using the word “penis” himself, without your suggesting it?’
‘That is correct.’
Ben looked down at the documents laid out in front of him and selected one with no particular haste.
‘Mr Stone, do you remember giving evidence at the magistrates’ court on 13 February, when your deposition was taken?’
The witness unclasped his hands, brought them around to the front of his body, and folded them across his chest. The gesture was so similar to Raymond’s stance in the witness box that Ben could not resist a smile.
‘I do.’
‘Do you remember my learned friend Mr Morgan-Davies asking you about what Raymond had said to you in his room?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can see your deposition if you wish. Your evidence was that Raymond had said that Mr Little had “touched” him? You were unable to remember any more than that, is that not correct?’
‘If you say so.’
‘No, Mr Stone. The jury must hear what you say about it. Is it not the case that you said only that Raymond said he had been touched? You gave no details at all, did you? Nothing about touching his penis?’
‘No. Not then, no.’
‘Do you remember my learned friend pressing you and asking you, as he has today, whether you could recall the precise words Raymond used?’
‘Yes.’
‘And did you reply that you could not remember?’
‘I believe so, yes.’
‘Is it also true that, in your deposition, you said nothing about Mr Little exposing himself to Raymond?’
Silence.
‘I can ask the usher to show you your deposition, if you would like to see it.’
‘No. I did not say that specifically.’
‘No. Mr Stone, would you care to explain to the jury why you have given these details today, although you were unable to recall them during your deposition?’
The witness shifted position miserably in the witness box.
‘I suppose no one asked.’
‘My learned friend will correct me, if I am wrong’ Ben said. ‘But he asked you to describe in detail everything Raymond had said. Is that not true?’
Stone looked at Gareth for support, but Gareth remained impassive in his seat. Silence.
‘Let me move on to something else,’ Ben said. ‘You phoned Mr Little at about 11 o’clock that evening, as you have said. There is no dispute about that. But he did not say anything about not knowing what had come over him. That’s complete nonsense, isn’t it?’
‘No. That’s what he said.’
‘Really? Well, if he did say that, that would be quite important, wouldn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, your vicar would have been admitting that he had behaved indecently towards your son, wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘That would be quite shocking to you, wouldn’t it?’
‘It was quite shocking.’
‘And yet you did not mention that phone call to anyone until 10 February, almost three weeks later, and only three days before the committal proceedings? Is that not correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not a word to the police when you phoned them the morning after?’
‘No.’
‘Not a word when you went to the police station?’
‘No.’
‘Did it just skip your memory?’
‘It must have.’
Ben paused.
‘Yes. It must have. Raymond is a gifted singer, isn’t he, Mr Stone? Exceptional for his age?’
Ben watched the sudden change of subject take the witness by surprise. He turned towards Ben with a startled look.
‘Yes, he is,’ he replied defensively.
‘And you and your wife wanted his talent to be recognised, so that he could go to the King’s School at Ely, did you not?’
Hesitation. Stone turned to appeal to the judge.
‘I don’t see what that has to do with this case.’
‘Answer the question, please, Mr Stone,’ Judge Peterson replied.
‘Well, yes, we did. Why shouldn’t we?’
Ben shook his head. ‘I’m not criticising you at all for that, Mr Stone. On the contrary, choir boys at the Cathedral School have many advantages, don’t they? Their talents are on display. They can begin musical careers. They may win scholarships to Cambridge colleges as choristers, or even organ scholars. Isn’t that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes. Of course you would want that for your son. And you believed he was good enough, didn’t you?’
For the first time, Stone looked assertive.
‘We knew he was good enough. We had been to Ely Cathedral. We had heard the choir many times. My wife and I have musical backgrounds. We started him off singing. We knew he was at least as good as some of those other boys.’
‘Yes,’ Ben said. ‘But the clock was running, wasn’t it? Usually choristers start by the age of eight, so that their voices can be properly trained, don’t they? Eight or nine is about the limit. Raymond was ten. So, unless he was accepted more or less immediately, his chance would have gone forever, wouldn’t it?’
Stone nodded unhappily.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Stone. Please answer audibly.’
‘Yes.’
‘You approached Mr Sharples, as the choir master, for a reference, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Mr Sharples wouldn’t give Raymond a reference, would he?’
Stone became animated, rocking backwards and forwards, his hands in front of him, gripping the rail of the witness box.
‘Sharples didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t take the time and the trouble to…’
‘I’m not concerned with the rights and wrongs of that, Mr Stone,’ Ben said. ‘I am sure you believe that Mr Sharples was wrong. That’s not my concern. My point is that, once Mr Sharples formed that view, Raymond’s only hope was Mr Little; because if the vicar recommends a boy, the school will generally audition him – at least take a look at him. Isn’t that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘You asked Mr Little for a reference, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘You needed it desperately because time was running out?’
‘
We had to do something quickly, yes.’
Ben paused.
‘Mr Little refused, didn’t he?’
Despondent, now.
‘Yes.’
‘How did you feel about that?’
The simple question, the invitation to express himself, seemed to take Stone aback. To Ben’s surprise, he answered quietly.
‘What hurt us was that he didn’t even think about it,’ Stone replied. ‘He didn’t even listen to Raymond sing, except in the choir on Sundays, and you can’t tell much with the service going on, people coughing and moving around, and so on. You have to be there for choir practice. He didn’t even consider it. We not only asked him, we begged him. But he just said that Sharples was a better judge than he was, and that was the end of it. And our family have been members of that congregation for three generations. We have been churchwardens, and…’
‘I quite understand,’ Ben said. ‘He didn’t treat you as you deserved to be treated. As your vicar, he let you down.’
‘He did.’
‘And you were angry about it, weren’t you?’
The witness folded his arms again, and considered.
‘I was very upset. We all were.’
‘Upset?’ Ben asked incredulously. ‘You weren’t upset, Mr Stone. You were angry. You were furious, weren’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t say…’
‘And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know what you mean by that.’
‘Yes, you do. This is about revenge, isn’t it? Mr Little thoughtlessly ended your son’s musical career before it had even begun. And in return you, or Raymond, or both of you, have made up these stories about him, haven’t you? To get your own back?’
Stone pointed a finger at Ben, spluttering.
‘You can’t say things like that,’ he shouted. He turned to the judge. ‘You tell him. He can’t say things like that.’
‘Counsel has a duty to put his case to you, Mr Stone,’ the judge said quietly. ‘You don’t have to accept it. What do you say about it?’
‘It is not true,’ he shouted.
‘I have no further questions,’ Ben said dismissively, resuming his seat.
* * *
Gareth then called Raymond’s mother, Angela Stone. All she could say was that she had gone up to Raymond’s bedroom after his father had talked to him. The boy was very upset. She made him cocoa and settled him down in bed. Her husband had told her what Raymond had said but, before she could pass it on to the jury, Ben successfully objected that it was hearsay, and Gareth did not press the matter. Gareth did not ask her about the King’s School. After a moment’s hesitation, Ben decided not to cross-examine.
Lastly, Gareth called PC Willis, to deal with the arrest of the Reverend Little at his vicarage. He gave evidence that he had interviewed Little under caution later that same day, and that Little had stoutly denied any wrongdoing from first to last.
‘Officer,’ Ben asked, ‘what was the defendant’s reaction on being arrested?’
‘He was extremely shocked, sir’, Willis replied.
‘How did that shock manifest itself?’
‘When I told him he was under arrest, he almost collapsed into a chair, sir. I’m not sure he even heard me caution him. I repeated it two or three times, to make sure. I allowed his housekeeper to make him a cup of tea before I took him to the station. I had to leave it for several hours before I could interview him.’
‘Thank you, officer.’
‘His solicitor, Mr Singer, also witnessed his distress, sir,’ Willis added, unprompted. ‘He spent some time with Mr Little before he was interviewed.’
‘Thank you very much officer,’ Ben said. ‘Nothing further.’
Gareth stood.
‘May it please you, sir, that is the case for the prosecution.’
Judge Peterson looked up at the clock, which indicated that the time was 3.30.
‘I think that’s as far as we will go today,’ he said. ‘Members of the jury, we will resume at 10.30 tomorrow morning.’
‘I will extend the defendant’s bail overnight,’ the judge said to Ben, after the jury had left court. ‘But your client should be aware that I will not necessarily do so once the jury has retired.’
In the robing room, Gareth was hurriedly donning his tie and jacket.
‘Fifteen minutes to catch my train,’ he said. ‘I think I can just make it.’
‘You’re not staying? You’re going back to London and coming out here again tomorrow morning?’ Ben asked.
‘Oh, God, yes,’ Gareth replied. ‘You know me well enough, Ben. I don’t like to be away from home unless I’m in Wales. Besides, I’m outnumbered here. I will see you tomorrow.’
He hesitated at the door and looked back at Ben.
‘There’s still time to plead.’
‘Goodnight, Gareth,’ Ben replied, smiling.
* * *
Barratt Davis was waiting for him outside the Town Hall. They stood together silently for a while, enjoying the fresh air of Market Square. The exertions of the day were catching up with them and, despite a light drizzle, they were grateful to be out of the stuffy atmosphere of the courtroom. At length, Barratt began the slow walk across the square to the George.
‘I tried to get Little to hang around to talk to you, but he really wanted to get away,’ Barratt said. ‘He is a bit on edge, as one might expect. I told him to meet us at the hotel not later than 9 o’clock tomorrow, so you will have time to give him a few last-minute tips about giving evidence. I’ve explained that once he begins his evidence, he won’t be able to talk to us until it’s finished. He understands that.’
‘Was he happy with the way things went today?’
‘Yes, he seemed to be. He enjoyed your cross of Stone Senior – as did I, by the way.’
Ben smiled.
‘Thank you. Yes, I think we scored a couple of points there. I don’t think Gareth was happy with him. And he hardly pressed the mother at all, did he? It seemed to me that he wasn’t sure what she might say.’
‘And it was a good decision not to cross her,’ Barratt replied. He stopped just outside the front door of the George. ‘I have the impression that Little thinks we are doing well so far. He does have one concern, though, and he seems quite worried about it.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It was what the judge said, just before he rose – about withdrawing bail once the jury retires. Little says he is extremely claustrophobic. The idea of being locked up while they decide his fate is making him anxious.’
Ben sighed.
‘Barratt, if he is convicted…’
‘Yes, I know,’ Barratt said. ‘I did remind him of that. But, for some reason, the idea of being locked up for this particular period of time is worrying him. I said you would mention it to the judge tomorrow. Can you do it before he gives evidence?’
Ben shook his head.
‘That’s not a good idea,’ he replied. ‘There is a good chance that the judge will be against us. It’s not unusual for bail to be withdrawn at that stage in a serious case. If the judge tells him that before he gives evidence, he will be worrying about it more than he is now. I need him to be able to concentrate on his evidence. He’s going to need his wits about him when Gareth cross-examines. Better to leave him with some hope of bail being extended and, if not, cross that bridge when we come to it.’
Barratt nodded.
‘Fair enough.’
They entered the George. Jess had already taken possession of their favourite corner table. She stood as they approached.
‘You both look like men who need a drink,’ she smiled. ‘I am happy to take orders to the bar. How did it go this afternoon?’
‘I think it went as well as we could have hoped,’ Barratt replied. ‘Ben di
d quite a bit of damage to the prosecution witnesses. Hard to read this bloody jury, though. They are not giving anything away. But at this point, I would say we are in with a chance. Mine’s a pint of bitter – and then you can tell us about Joan Heppenstall.’
‘Same for me, Jess, thanks,’ Ben said.
The bar was quiet, and Jess returned quickly with drinks and dinner menus. She resumed her seat.
‘Joan is in her room,’ she said. ‘She said she was tired, and would have room service. But she is here, and she has every intention of being in court tomorrow.’
Ben glanced across at Barratt.
‘Jess, I’m depending very much on your judgment in this. You have talked to her. If anyone has a sense of whether we can trust her as a witness, it’s you. It’s a big decision. If we call her and she does well, there is no doubt it will help.’
Jess ran her hands through her hair nervously.
‘What does “doing well” mean?’ she asked.
‘Ideally,’ Barratt replied, ‘we would like her to say that they spent days at a time in bed and they were at it like rabbits.’
Ben laughed. ‘If she’s going to say that, Barratt, let’s make sure we call the Canon first,’ he said.
‘I will make a note of that,’ Barratt grinned.
Ben became more serious. He leaned forward across the table.
‘Jess, look, it’s my decision whether or not to call her. I don’t want you to worry about it. No one is going to blame you – certainly not me. But I need you to tell me honestly what you think. I trust your judgment. I’m not worried about her sinking him without trace out of malice. She would not have left York if that was how she felt. I’m sure of that, based on what you have told us before. She is obviously a woman of integrity. However much she may feel betrayed, I don’t believe she would do that. But I am concerned that she might damn him with faint praise, if you get my point.’
Jess nodded thoughtfully.
‘We talked quite a lot on the way from the station. I think she was being honest with me. She is here to help Ignatius. She is intelligent enough to know what that means.’ She paused. ‘I would call her.’
Ben smiled.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Then, that’s what I will do. And now, to dinner.’
26
