A Matter for the Jury

by Peter Murphy

  Pilkington gestured to Paul, who was sitting quietly but attentively beside Philip Eaves.

  ‘With the usher’s assistance, I would like to provide you with two documents. The first is the indictment, which is the formal statement of the charge against the accused and which you have already heard read to you by the learned clerk of assize. The second has two pages, and I am grateful to my learned friends for their agreement that you may have this exhibit now, so that you can see the various places to which I shall refer during my opening speech. The first page is an Ordnance Survey map, showing the town of St Ives and the section of the Great Ouse river between St Ives and Holywell Fen, which lies about a mile to the east of St Ives. The second page is a street plan of the centre of St Ives. There will be one copy of each document between two.’ He turned briefly towards the bench. ‘My Lord, the map and street plan will be Exhibit One.’

  ‘Yes,’ the judge replied.

  Paul briskly distributed the documents and resumed his seat.

  ‘If you will look at the indictment with me,’ Andrew continued, ‘you will see that it alleges that the murder of Frank Gilliam occurred during the night of the 25-26 of January of this year. It occurred at Holywell Fen in the County of Huntingdon.’

  He paused for a sip of water.

  ‘Members of the jury, you will hear from Charles Edwards, the licensee of the Oliver Cromwell public house in Wellington Street in St Ives, that a young couple came into the pub during the evening of Saturday 25 January. Mr Edwards noticed them because the Oliver Cromwell is a mainly male establishment, and it was rather unusual for young women to be drinking there. He was able to recognise them later from photographs shown to him by the police. The man was Frank Gilliam. Frank was twenty-three and he was training to be a bank manager. The young woman was his girlfriend, Jennifer Doyce. Jennifer survived the events of that night, and you will hear evidence from her either tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. But she was badly beaten, she was raped, and you will hear that she is very lucky to be alive. You will see, when she gives evidence, the effect her ordeal has had on her. Jennifer Doyce is twenty-one years of age and, before that night, was training to be a librarian here in Huntingdon.’

  ‘Members of the jury, the accused, William Cottage, was employed by Mr Edwards as a part-time barman, and he was working at the pub on the night of the 25 of January while Frank and Jennifer were there. His full-time daytime employment was as the lock keeper on the river at Fenstanton, but he worked at the Oliver Cromwell at night to earn some extra cash.’

  Andrew paused to turn and glance briefly at Cottage, drawing the jury’s eyes with him.

  ‘Frank and Jennifer had plans for that night. They were going to walk the mile or so along the river to Holywell Fen. If you will look with me at the St Ives street plan, you will see that Wellington Street ends at its junction with Priory Road.’

  He waited for the members of the jury to spread their plans out in front of them.

  ‘You will see the Oliver Cromwell marked on the plan with the letter A. If you turn left on leaving the pub and walk to Priory Road you will come to a small corner shop. It is marked with the letter B. The shop is the last building on Priory Road, and if you continue you will come to a gate with a turnstile, which leads into the meadow. The gate is marked with the letter C. Once you pass through the gate, you are free to walk along the bank of the river towards the Fen. If you look at the Ordnance Survey map, you will see the Fen marked with the letter D.’

  Andrew looked up from his notes to smile at the jury.

  ‘Members of the jury, at first blush it may seem strange that Frank and Jennifer were going to walk almost a mile to Holywell Fen along the river late on a bitterly cold night. But there is no mystery about it. They were in love. They wanted some solitude to be together, and Holywell Fen offered them that opportunity, because moored by the river at the Fen is a houseboat called the Rosemary D. The boat belongs to a couple called Douglas. Mr and Mrs Douglas abandoned her quite some time ago when they had occasion to leave the country rather suddenly. When they did, they left behind all her fixtures and fittings and all her domestic contents, leaving her habitable and rather comfortable. You will hear that the Rosemary D had become a favourite haunt of courting couples. The boat was not locked, so it was easy to climb on board and enter the living quarters. That is where Frank and Jennifer went when they left the Oliver Cromwell. Jennifer will tell you, quite frankly, that it was their intention to have sexual relations with each other for the first time, and that they had begun to do so before they were attacked.

  ‘We know that they walked in that direction because, on the way, they stopped briefly at the corner shop, letter B on your plan. The shop was not generally open at that hour, but Mavis Brown, whose father owns the shop, was doing some late-night stock-taking when she saw Frank and Jennifer looking in through the shop window. She opened the shop for them and sold them two packets of Woodbine cigarettes. Members of the jury, police officers later found those two packets in their clothing with three cigarettes missing from each, stubs of two Woodbine cigarettes were found in an ashtray in the sleeping quarters of the Rosemary D. Miss Brown was later able to identify Frank and Jennifer from photographs. I will return to Mavis Brown in just a moment, because she provides another important piece of evidence.’

  Andrew paused and sipped more water.

  ‘William Cottage left the Oliver Cromwell shortly after Frank and Jennifer, even though his evening shift had not actually finished. It is the Crown’s case that he followed the couple as they walked towards the Rosemary D. It would not have been difficult to follow without being seen. They had left the street lights of St Ives behind. There might have been some moonlight, but it was a damp, cloudy night, probably quite dark. The Crown say that William Cottage followed Frank and Jennifer all the way to Holywell Fen. He waited until they were aboard the Rosemary D, and distracted by their passion for each other.’

  Andrew again gestured to Paul.

  ‘Members of the jury, I will now show you another document. Again, I am grateful to my learned friends for indicating that they have no objection. This, with your Lordship’s leave, will be Exhibit Two.’

  ‘Yes,’ the judge said.

  Paul walked across to Andrew, took the copies with him and distributed them to the jury.

  ‘Members of the jury, again, one between two. This is a floor plan of the Rosemary D. You will see that as you board her, you have the forward deck, and then to your right a door. If you go through that door, you are in the living quarters, with a small kitchen, a lounge area and a toilet. The living quarters are marked A on the plan. Then, if you make your way further aft, you walk through a narrow door into the sleeping quarters, marked B on the plan.’

  Andrew allowed the jury to take in the other details shown on the plan while he refilled his water glass from a carafe.

  ‘I am now going to jump ahead somewhat. You will notice, members of the jury, that the plan also has some shapes marked on it. These shapes reflect what was found on the morning of Monday 27 January. At about 8.30 on that morning, a man called Archie Knights, a retired Army officer, was walking his dog along the river bank by the Fen, as he often does at that time of day. Mr Knights will tell you that he noticed something out of place, that the door leading to the living quarters was ajar. He decided to investigate. He will tell you that what he found shocked him. It was the scene of a frenzied, violent attack. He hurried to the nearest phone and called the police. Shortly afterwards two officers, PC Willis and PC Hawthorne arrived, and also observed the scene. Frank Gilliam was lying on the floor by the side of the bed. The position of his body is illustrated by shape F. He was dead. You will hear from the pathologist who performed the autopsy that he died from a fracture of the skull and internal bleeding resulting from massive head injuries. The evidence will be that those injuries were caused by repeated blows from a large and heavy blunt inst
rument. Lying on the bed on her back was the apparently lifeless body of Jennifer Doyce. She had also suffered severe head trauma, almost certainly inflicted by means of the same weapon. Her dress had been pulled up and her underwear pulled down, and there were injuries to her genital area which suggested that she had been violently raped.’

  Andrew saw the jury tightening their lips, and paused to allow them to breathe under cover of drinking some water.

  ‘Mr Knights had thought that Jennifer was also dead, so he had reported two deaths to the police. But when PC Willis looked at Jennifer more closely, he noticed a slight movement of her eyelids, and he realised that she was still alive. She was taken to Addenbrookes Hospital, where she underwent surgery, and made what her doctors say has been an almost miraculous recovery. You may think, members of the jury, that she may well owe her life to PC Willis’s attention to detail and quick thinking. During the course of the investigation, the police sent frogmen to dive in the river alongside the boat, just in case the assailant had thrown his weapon overboard, and in due course, the divers recovered a heavy metal winch handle, which would have been kept on the forward deck of the Rosemary D. When the winch handle was tested, it was found to be stained with blood matching the groups of Frank’s blood and of Jennifer’s; group A for Jennifer, group O for Frank. The Crown say that this was the murder weapon. You will see the winch handle later in the trial.’

  ‘It is the Crown’s case, members of the jury, that the man who murdered Frank Gilliam, and who raped and viciously assaulted Jennifer Doyce, was this accused, William Cottage. Why do we say that? We say that there are three chains of evidence that put the case beyond any reasonable doubt, indeed beyond any doubt at all.’

  ‘Firstly, a police scene of crime officer found a fingerprint on a window ledge in the sleeping quarters. The fingerprint was mixed with a small quantity of blood of group A, Jennifer Doyce’s blood group. The fingerprint was that of the accused, William Cottage. When interviewed by Detective Superintendent Arnold and Detective Inspector Phillips, Cottage lied to the officers by denying that he had ever been on board the Rosemary D.’

  ‘Secondly, when police officers went to Cottage’s home, the lock keeper’s house at Fenstanton, to arrest him in connection with this matter, they saw his sister, Eve, wearing a distinctive and quite valuable gold cross and chain, which she claimed had been given to her by her brother, the accused. Members of the jury, that gold cross and chain has been identified by Jennifer Doyce as the one she was wearing when she left home to accompany Frank Gilliam to the Rosemary D on the night of the 25 January. She will tell you that she was still wearing it when she boarded the boat. When the police searched the boat, there was no sign of it, but marks on Jennifer’s neck suggest that it was taken from her neck during the assault on her. The Crown say that William Cottage stole that cross and chain in addition to assaulting and raping Jennifer Doyce, and that the theft was part of a crime spree in the course and furtherance of which he murdered Frank Gilliam. When interviewed by the police, Cottage said that he had found the cross and chain, but he gave several mutually inconsistent accounts of where and in what circumstances he found it, and I anticipate that you will have no hesitation in concluding that he told the police a pack of lies about it. He had that cross and chain because he took it from Jennifer’s body in the course of his violent and frenzied attack on her, and on Frank.

  ‘Thirdly, and finally, I return to Mavis Brown. She, you recall, was the young lady who kindly opened the corner shop late at night to sell Jennifer and Frank their Woodbines. She will tell you that a minute or two after they had left the shop, walking in the direction of the meadow, a man walked in the same direction, pausing briefly under a street light near the shop. The man was wearing a hat, and she was not able to see his face. But Mavis is able to say that in the stillness of the night, she distinctly heard him singing a song to himself, and she was able to identify the song as the well-known folk song, the Lincolnshire Poacher. Why does that matter? Well, members of the jury, you will hear from Jennifer Doyce that her assailant was singing that same song softly as he was raping her, and you will hear from the police officers who arrested William Cottage that they also heard him sing that song to himself in the back of the police car as he was being transported to St Ives police station.’

  Andrew paused for effect.

  ‘There is also no dispute that, in September 1961, William Cottage pleaded guilty before the Huntingdonshire Magistrates’ Court to an offence of indecent exposure. He was conditionally discharged for twelve months. The facts of that case are that PC Willis, by coincidence one of the arresting officers in this case, found Cottage standing in the front garden of a house, late at night. His penis was exposed and he was masturbating while he watched a young woman who lived in the house getting undressed for the night. As he approached, PC Willis noted that Cottage was singing the Lincolnshire Poacher to himself sotto voce.’

  Ben had been taking a careful note of the opening, but his hand froze on the pen. He waited for Martin Hardcastle to jump up to protest, to demand that the jury be discharged because of the improper admission of the accused’s bad character. He felt, rather than saw, a similar reaction from Barratt Davis, sitting behind him. But his leader remained seated and displayed no reaction. Ben tried to make himself write a note, but his fingers were not yet cooperating. A hand tugged on his gown from behind. A folded note landed on his desk, bearing the single word WHAT!? in Barratt’s handwriting. Ben turned around and shrugged helplessly.

  Andrew Pilkington was closing his notebook.

  ‘Members of the jury, the Crown say that that evidence identifies William Cottage as the perpetrator of the attacks on Frank Gilliam and Jennifer Doyce just as surely as if he had been seen by an eye-witness. It is as if he left his calling card at the scene. After lunch, I will begin calling the evidence. As I said before, the Crown brings this case and the Crown must prove it. But I anticipate that, when you have heard the evidence, you will have no doubt that it was this accused, William Cottage, who murdered Frank Gilliam, and you will say so by your verdict.’

  He turned to Mr Justice Lancaster.

  ‘My Lord, it is almost 1 o’clock. Would this be a convenient moment?’

  The judge nodded.

  ‘We will adjourn for lunch until 2 o’clock’, he replied.

  All in court stood as the judge and the High Sheriff left the bench. Billy Cottage was immediately whisked away to the cells by the prison officers.

  * * *

  Ben seized his notebook and strode out of court, pushing his way through the crowd of spectators leaving the public gallery, to the lobby of the Town Hall, and then out into the fresh air of Market Square. Martin Hardcastle had turned to his left and was lighting a cigarette by the corner of the building which faced the old Falcon Inn on the south side of the square.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ben demanded.

  Hardcastle inhaled deeply from his cigarette.

  ‘In what sense do you ask?’ he countered.

  Ben found himself almost speechless.

  ‘In what sense…? Andrew Pilkington told the jury about his previous conviction,’ he blurted out eventually.

  ‘Yes, Schroeder, I know that. I was listening to the opening.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you… why didn’t you object? Why didn’t you ask the judge to discharge the jury?’

  Barratt Davis had fought his way out of the Town Hall to join them.

  ‘Schroeder, Andrew Pilkington is junior Treasury Counsel. He knows better than to mention previous convictions when it’s not allowed. He mentioned it because I invited him to do so.’

  Ben and Barratt stared at him in silence.

  ‘You told him he could bring it up?’ Ben asked, after some time.

  ‘Of course,’ Hardcastle replied. ‘It was the only realistic course to take.’

  ‘And I assume you will explain why
to Mr Cottage later?’ Barratt asked. ‘He looked rather disturbed when they took him back to his cell.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Martin replied with a thin smile. ‘And, if really necessary, I will explain it to both of you now – though, I must say, I am surprised that it should be necessary; it seems obvious enough to me.’

  There was another silence. Martin exhaled deeply, expelling a cloud of grey-blue smoke.

  ‘Very well. By letting it in, I have purchased the right to challenge the evidence about the Lincolnshire Poacher without having to tread on eggshells. That evidence, together with the gold cross and chain, is going to kill Cottage unless we can discredit it. There is not much we can do about the cross and chain, except to hope that the jury finds his story about finding it more probable than we do. But I think we can make some progress on the Lincolnshire Poacher, which is far more deadly evidence, but vulnerable to attack through cross-examination. The moment I challenge that evidence, with Mavis Brown, or with Jennifer Doyce, or with the police officers, Pilkington will demand that the conviction go in. He will be right, and the judge will agree with him. I achieve nothing by trying to keep it out except watering down my cross-examination to the point of ineffectiveness. Putting the conviction in now removes all our inhibitions, and may gain us some credit for frankness with the jury. Besides, indecent exposure is a minor, non-violent offence, which bears no relationship to murder. It may even point away from Cottage if the jury can be made to see him as a peeping Tom, and nothing more.’