by Peter Murphy
‘Hello, darling,’ she said. ‘Good day? Did your jury go out?’
‘No. It got too late. They’ll go out first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘How’s it looking?’
‘I’m not sure. Delyth Rees was depressingly fair and balanced.’
She laughed. ‘Well, it hasn’t taken you long to turn into a prosecutor, has it? Not long ago you would have been praising her to the heavens for a fair, balanced summing-up.’
He laughed too. ‘True. I haven’t been able to think of what I’m doing as prosecuting yet. I’m still looking at it more as representing Audrey and Emily Marshall.’
‘That’s what prosecutors are supposed to do, isn’t it: represent the victims?’
‘I suppose so. I’m sure I’ll get used to it. How was your day?’
‘More of the same. We’ve now got down to arguing over the ironing board and such like. But the reason I called is that I’m going to have to stay late in chambers. Duncan Furnival wants closing speeches tomorrow morning. I think he’s as sick of the case as we are, and he’s desperate to give judgment and get it over with. Leaving aside the furniture, there’s a lot of money involved, and I want to go over the bank records again.’
‘No problem, darling,’ Ben replied. ‘Thanks for letting me know. Take care. I’ll see you later.’
‘But I wanted to ask if I could book you for dinner tomorrow evening?’
‘Yes, absolutely. Are we going out?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I thought I’d cook at home.’
‘That would be great,’ Ben said. ‘What’s the occasion?’
‘I want to have dinner with my husband.’
After she had hung up, Ben turned his attention to a set of papers from Barratt Davis, introducing a new client, a retired surgeon caught trying to import a substantial quantity of cannabis from a Belgian port into Folkestone harbour, aboard his private yacht. His reading of the papers was interrupted by a knock on the door. Anthony Norris entered without waiting for an invitation.
‘Got a minute?’ he inquired.
‘Of course,’ Ben said, waving him in.
Norris seated himself in an armchair in front of Ben’s desk and lit a cigarette.
‘Thank you for agreeing to let the jury hear so much about his good character,’ he said.
‘Don’t mention it,’ Ben replied.
‘Most prosecutors will let the jury know he has no previous convictions, but you went a lot further than that: much appreciated.’ He drew deeply on the cigarette. ‘Which way do you think it’s going?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Ben replied. ‘Until your client decided not to give evidence I thought he was probably going down, at least on counts one and two. Now, I think it could go either way.’
Norris laughed. ‘I couldn’t let him anywhere the witness box,’ he said. ‘You’d have crucified him on cross-examination – sorry, bad turn of phrase in the circumstances, but you take my meaning, I’m sure.’
‘From which, I take it, you don’t think he has much of a defence?’
‘As far as I can see, he doesn’t have any defence. But fortunately for him, this case isn’t about defences. It’s about the rules of evidence, and the science of recovered memory. If Audrey Marshall’s memory had been intact from 1940 until today, the only thing I could do for Father Gerrard would be to find him a berth in a prison with a decent library – and away from the general population, who are not greatly enamoured of child molesters, I’m told.’
‘You think so?’
‘God, yes. Audrey would have him stone cold on counts three and four; and Emily, duly corroborated, would have him stone cold on counts one and two. If Gerrard walks away from this, as I think he will, it will be because of scepticism about recovered memory, and the rules of corroboration.’
‘I don’t think the jury is buying your theory that this is all a plot to take Lancelot Andrewes School for all it’s worth.’
Norris smiled. ‘Neither do I. But I’ve got them worried about whether they can trust her memory. Can I ask you something? Do you think she’s right about Lord AB and the other two?’
Ben thought for some time. ‘About the Three Musketeers? Yes, I do, actually. Woman B identified them too, remember.’
‘All those girls talked to each other, Ben; they were talking in the 1940s and, if you want my opinion, they’re still talking in the 1970s.’
‘I think Audrey honestly believes she’s right,’ Ben replied.
‘You should have indicted all of them together, you know. You’d have a much better chance with all four in the dock. Whose idea was it to go after Gerrard on his own? Pilkington’s?’
‘We would still have the same problems with the evidence.’
Norris nodded and extinguished his cigarette, extracted another cigarette from his silver case, and lit it.
‘There’s something I would like you to think about,’ he said. ‘It is my considered opinion that there’s something going on at Lancelot Andrewes – and it’s something much bigger than Father Desmond Gerrard.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Ben asked, looking at him closely.
‘This is off the record, understood? Gerrard is my client, after all. You know what I’m saying.’
‘Understood.’
‘Just step back and look at it objectively for a moment. You’ve made a pretty convincing showing that a paedophile ring has been operating at the school, on a continuous basis, or at least on and off, since 1940. You may not succeed in proving it in this case; the rules of evidence may bring you down. But if you leave the rules of evidence out of it, if you concentrate on the facts, it’s as plain as the nose on your face. Now, I ask you this: how many girls have been molested during that time?’
‘Who knows? A lot.’
‘Exactly. A lot. But when Gerrard is arrested and charged, with all the attendant publicity, how many women come forward to assist in putting this evil man, this cassock-wearing godfather of paedophiles, behind bars, where he belongs? Woman B, and only Woman B. And she only surfaces at the eleventh hour. That’s it.’
‘We were surprised by that, too – and frustrated, obviously,’ Ben admitted.
‘It doesn’t make any sense. There should be women coming out of the woodwork – unless the allegations are a total fabrication, which I don’t believe; or there are other forces at work.’
‘So, you conclude that there’s something rotten in the State of Denmark?’
‘There has to be. But let me come to the point. To be perfectly frank, I don’t give a damn about Lancelot Andrewes School. What concerns me is the effect this case could have on chambers.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘We’ve got into a good rhythm recently, Ben. Our last two heads of chambers, Duncan Furnival and Bernard Wesley, have gone straight up to the High Court bench. The word is that Gareth is going to follow them in a year or two; and everyone who’s applied for Silk has got it at the first time of asking.’
‘What has that got to do with this case?’
‘This case involves people in high places. We don’t want to make enemies in high places, Ben. This is not the time. When Gareth leaves, Aubrey Smith-Gurney becomes head of chambers. Kenneth Gaskell and I will apply for Silk. Smith-Gurney makes us vulnerable. He was, or is, a close friend of Conrad Rainer: a High Court judge proved to have stolen money from members of his former chambers to fund his gambling habit; and who killed his mistress and stuffed her body into a closet in his flat in the Barbican, before doing a runner to God only knows where.’
‘Yes, I’m well aware of that, Anthony. I was doing a murder in front of Rainer at the Old Bailey at the time.’
‘Then you’ll remember that there was a strong suspicion that Smith-Gurney gave his Lordship a helping hand to flee the jurisdiction.’
‘There’s no evidence of
that, as far as I know.’
‘Two police officers came to chambers to interview him, Ben. Here, in chambers, for God’s sake: police officers.’
‘Yes: and three years later, nothing has come of it. Look, Aubrey was quite open about his friendship with Rainer, and he admitted that he tried to find him a way out of the mess his gambling had got him into. But there’s no evidence that he went any further than that.’
‘They don’t need evidence to take chambers off the approved list for Silk and judicial appointments,’ Norris said. ‘All they need is a hint of doubt. And, as if Smith-Gurney isn’t bad enough, Gaskell had an affair with a client and caused a scandal that nearly brought chambers down – would have done, if Bernard Wesley hadn’t worked some of his magic.’
‘That was more than ten years ago, Anthony. Kenneth and Anne have been happily married ever since then.’
‘That doesn’t change the fact that the next two heads of chambers are suspect, at least in terms of the quality they expect for the High Court bench. It could destroy the rhythm we’ve managed to establish by dint of a lot of hard work.’
Ben sat back in his chair. ‘And you’re worried that the establishment might somehow be involved with Lancelot Andrewes, and that the case may draw more attention to chambers?’
‘I am.’
Ben laughed. ‘Well, it’s a bit late to worry about that now, isn’t it? You and I are both in the case, and the trial’s almost over – the judge is about to send the jury out.’
Norris shook his head. ‘This phase of the case, with Gerrard, will come and go. It’s the next phase that worries me. If you go after the Three Musketeers, you’ll be going after men with some seriously powerful friends inside the establishment. Remember, Ben, you have no idea who else may be involved in this ring. If it’s been operating since 1940, there could be quite a collection of household names, and the chances are they have the same powerful friends. Lord AB and the other two may be just the beginning: which means that you have no idea what lengths the establishment may go to, to protect them.’
He looked at his watch and put out his cigarette. ‘Well, I’ve said my piece. I must be off. Pleasure calls: cocktail party, followed by dinner at the Athenaeum.’
‘Anthony,’ Ben said, ‘why are you telling me this?’
Norris shook his head. ‘Gerrard is a sanctimonious bastard,’ he replied. ‘I have a feeling he’s going to get off – which means I’ve done my job. But I don’t have to like him, and if he does go down, I’m not going to lose any sleep over him. Either way, I’m out of it. I would prefer to see you hand it over too, if it’s likely to go any further.’
‘I see,’ Ben said.
‘I’m not suggesting it only for my own sake, Ben. You’re going to be up for Silk yourself before too long, the way your practice is going. You’re getting to the stage where you have to consider these things.’
‘So, I should tell my client I’ve lost interest?’
‘You’re prosecuting, Ben. Your only client is the Crown, and you’ve represented the Crown very ably.’
‘Audrey and Emily deserve more.’
‘Hand them over to Miss Castle,’ Norris suggested. ‘She’s the type to tilt at windmills, so one hears.’ He grinned. ‘Spirited girl, too, Miss Castle, isn’t she? She gave me a real piece of her mind when I was giving her a hard time in court. I’m sure I richly deserved it. She doesn’t mess around, you’ve got to give her that.’
‘Are you finally admitting that there may be a place for women at the bar after all, Anthony?’ Ben asked.
‘I wouldn’t go quite that far,’ Norris replied, standing and making his way to the door. ‘But credit where credit’s due, and all that kind of thing.’
32
Friday 10 May 1974
‘Members of the jury,’ Judge Rees began, ‘I only have one or two more things to say to you. I won’t be long, and then you’ll be able to start work. First, you may know that, because of a very recent change in the law, a court may now accept a majority verdict from a jury in certain circumstances. If those circumstances should arise, I will bring you back into court and give you a further direction. My direction at this time is that you must reach a unanimous verdict on each of the four counts before you: and when I say “unanimous”, what I mean, of course, is a verdict on which all twelve of you are agreed.
‘I suggest that the first thing you should do, on retiring, is to appoint one of your number to be the foreman of the jury. Although we use the word “foreman”, I’m sure you understand that the foreman may be either a man or a woman. The foreman’s main job is to preside over your discussions, and to return the verdicts when you return to court; but in addition, if you have any questions or concerns while you’re deliberating, it’s the foreman’s job to write a note setting out whatever the question or concern may be, and give it to the jury bailiff, who will bring it to me.
‘Members of the jury, on any view, this has been a distressing case, and you would be less than human if you didn’t feel distressed about the evidence you have heard, and indeed, if you didn’t feel some empathy for some of those involved in the sad story you have listened to so patiently. But it is your duty now to put any feelings of that kind aside as you begin the work of reaching your verdicts. You must set aside all feelings of empathy for anyone, and any feelings of prejudice against anyone, so that you can assess the evidence dispassionately and impartially. It’s not an easy thing to do, members of the jury, even for those of us who sit in these courts every day; and for jurors who come here so seldom, it is even more difficult. But you are judges now – the judges of the facts – and as judges, your duty is to be fair to both sides. You can only be fair to both sides if you put your feelings aside as you analyse the evidence.
‘Now lastly, members of the jury, like all criminal cases, without exception, this is a serious case. There is no deadline for returning your verdicts. By the same token, there is no length of time for which you are expected to be out. Take your time. Because of another very recent change in the law, I don’t have to keep you together throughout your deliberations, which means that we will work the same hours we work during trial. If you haven’t finished work by the end of the court day, you will be able to return home and come back on Monday morning to resume your discussions. So don’t rush it. Let everyone say whatever they want to say. When you’re sure you have the right result, and not before then, come back to court and return true verdicts in accordance with the evidence.’
Geoffrey, the usher, walked briskly to the clerk’s desk and took the New Testament in his right hand.
‘I swear by Almighty God that I will well and truly keep this jury in some private and convenient place. I will not suffer any person to speak with them, neither will I speak with them myself concerning the trial this day, without leave of the court, unless it be to ask them whether they are agreed upon their verdict.’
He returned the book to the clerk’s desk and walked over to the jury box.
‘Come with me, ladies and gentlemen, please.’
The jury followed, and retired to begin their deliberations at ten forty-five.
‘Come on, Audrey,’ Julia said, as they gathered outside court. ‘It’s going to be a long day. Let’s head up to the canteen.’
‘How is Emily?’ Ginny asked.
‘Ken says she’s fine,’ Audrey replied. ‘We’ve finally agreed on a local day school we’re going to send her to – for now, anyway. She seems to like it, and it’s got a good reputation, so Ken registered her there yesterday, and she can start whenever she feels ready. She’s missed so much school because of this case. I just hope we can put it behind us soon.’
‘You both did very well,’ Ginny reassured her. ‘Whatever verdict the jury may return, there was nothing more you could have done.’
‘And Emily’s a bright girl,’ Ben added. ‘She’ll catch up on school
in no time.’
‘I hope so.’ She raised her hands to her face; there were tears in her eyes.
‘Of course she will,’ Julia said, putting an arm around Audrey’s shoulder. ‘Coffee. Come on. It does no good to hang around, endlessly discussing the case, while the jury’s out. They could be out for hours.’
‘Whichever way it goes,’ Ben said, ‘we’ll get together once they’ve returned the verdicts and decide what comes next. Just don’t leave the building, unless you want to go for lunch between one and two. The judge won’t take a verdict during the lunch hour.’
‘What do you think?’ Ginny asked, once Julia and Audrey had turned the corner.
‘Touch and go. What do you think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Norris thinks he will get off. He came to see me when I got back to chambers yesterday afternoon.’
‘Did he? That was nice of him. Did he also reveal what explanation Gerrard would have offered us if he’d given evidence?’
‘No: quite the reverse, actually. He seems to think that Gerrard was up to his neck in it, but he also thinks we have too many problems with the evidence to convict him. He may be right.’
‘Do you want to go up to the bar mess and get some coffee?’
‘Good idea,’ Ben replied. ‘I’ve brought some papers to read. I always do when I’m waiting for a jury, but I don’t usually read much of them.’
She laughed. ‘I’m the same way. What have you brought?’
‘A retired surgeon smuggling cannabis into Folkestone on his private yacht.’
‘For medicinal purposes, presumably?’
‘Presumably,’ Ben replied. ‘Either that, or he didn’t know it was there.’
