by Peter Murphy
‘We sent you the medical reports, Andrew,’ Henderson replied.
‘That’s hardly the same thing.’
‘I’m sorry, Andrew, but frankly, I assumed the Attorney would have consulted the Director before making a decision. That’s the usual practice, isn’t it?’
Andrew stood, making a massive effort to recover from the shock he felt. ‘Judge, I’m taken completely by surprise. I haven’t been able to speak with the Deputy Director this morning. I’d like the chance to see him and find out what’s going on. I’m going to ask you to adjourn for the day, and to order that the case be listed again at ten thirty tomorrow morning.’
‘There’s no need for that, Judge,’ Anthony Norris objected, sensing blood in the water, and anxious to pounce before his prey could escape. ‘Once a nolle prosequi is entered, that’s the end of the case. The court has no further power to deal with it. You should dismiss the indictment forthwith, and let us tell the defendants they’re free to go home.’
‘I agree,’ Henderson added. ‘There’s nothing the court can do about it.’
‘You don’t have to take that action today, Judge, if you have any ground for requesting further information,’ Andrew insisted. ‘Yesterday, you ruled that there is no reason to stay this case as an abuse of process; so you have every reason to question why today, a government minister is giving you instructions which go against that ruling. And what does the Attorney mean by the national interest? There’s no obvious public interest to justify governmental interference in this case. It goes, not only against your ruling, but against the independence of the judiciary. It would be perfectly reasonable for you to inquire further before dismissing the indictment.’
‘There’s nothing to inquire into,’ Norris replied, with a smile. ‘The Attorney General has acted within his authority, and it’s not for the court to defy him.’
‘I’m not asking you to defy him, Judge,’ Andrew said. ‘All I’m suggesting is that it’s important for the court to have all available information before it, to exclude any possibility of error, before taking a step such as dismissing an indictment.’
‘I agree,’ Mr Justice Roberts said. ‘This has a very unpleasant taste to it.’
‘With all due respect, Judge,’ Henderson replied, ‘I’m not sure what you mean by that. There’s nothing improper in the defence asking the Attorney to intervene. I hope you’re not implying that Wallace or I have…’
‘Enough, Mr Henderson,’ the judge said angrily. ‘I will not hear any more. This case is adjourned until ten thirty tomorrow morning, when everyone, including the defendants, will attend. Mr Pilkington, I expect you to keep me informed about the progress of your inquiries.’
‘Yes, of course, Judge.’
‘I’m sorry, Andrew,’ John Caswell said when they emerged from the judge’s chambers into the courtroom. ‘Everyone in the office is running around like headless chickens. The Director has been trying to find out what’s going on, and he kept me on the phone. By the time I got to court, you’d already gone into chambers.’
Andrew nodded. ‘What did the Director have to say?’
John considered carefully. ‘The Director is profoundly shocked.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ Ben asked quietly.
‘He’s not aware of any compelling public interest which would prevent the case from going ahead, and the Attorney’s office didn’t say anything to enlighten him.’
‘It’s an attack on the independence of the judiciary,’ Andrew said.
‘I suspect the Director would agree,’ John said. ‘But he has to be very careful. You must understand that, at present, he doesn’t know any more than you or I. We don’t even know whether the Attorney is going to make a statement in the House, or call a press conference, to explain himself. On the face of it, the Attorney is within his rights.’
‘On the face of it,’ Andrew commented, ‘it’s a blatant political intervention, without any justification, designed to prevent the prosecution of four men prominent in public life who have almost certainly committed very serious offences.’
‘The Director can’t jump to conclusions like that, Andrew. You know that as well as I do. His hands are tied.’
‘Surely there must be something he can do?’ Ben asked incredulously. ‘The Attorney is trespassing on the Director’s territory just as much as the court’s.’
‘The Director reports to the Attorney, Ben,’ John replied. ‘He has no power to question the Attorney’s decision. If you want to get the Attorney overruled, you have to get the ear of the Home Secretary, maybe even the Prime Minister.’
‘All roads lead back to the Home Office,’ Julia whispered. She had been watching as the defence counsel explained to their clients why they were likely to walk from court free of all charges the following morning, a message she noted bitterly, that Lord AB appeared to understand without any difficulty. A visible mood of exuberance and relief was sweeping through the dock as the defendants were released for the day.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ she replied. She forced her attention away from the festivities at the back of the court. ‘John, Andrew, this means you’re out of it, doesn’t it, unless the Attorney changes his mind?’
John nodded. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘All right. I suppose Ben and I will have to go and tell Audrey and Emily what’s happened. God only knows what we’re going to say to them.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Andrew volunteered.
‘Thank you: because before I send them home to Ely, yet again, without any resolution, we need to work out whether we have anywhere left to go.’
Julia returned after finding Audrey and Emily a taxi.
‘She has every right to be upset,’ Andrew said. ‘I wish there was more I could do.’
‘You and John have done all you could,’ Julia replied. ‘You couldn’t have anticipated this. But it’s all fallen apart, and now we have to pick up the pieces and see if we can glue them together.’
‘We should meet later in the day,’ Ben suggested. ‘If necessary, we may have to make a night of it. Do you want to come to chambers?’
‘No, Ben. Let’s not rush it. We’ve taken a body blow. There’s no way around that. Nothing’s going to change tomorrow, is it?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Then let’s give ourselves a day or two to get our breath back and let our minds start working again.’ She smiled. ‘Besides, chambers is no place for a wake – which is what it may turn into. Let’s leave it until Friday. Come to my place around seven for supper and a couple of drinks.’ She paused. ‘Bring Jess. Call Ginny and ask if she and Michael can join us. The more the merrier. One or two fresh minds wouldn’t hurt at this point, would they?’
‘Nothing can hurt very much now,’ Ben replied.
45
Audrey Marshall
It’s getting to be a familiar feeling: the taxi to King’s Cross, the train home to Ely, fretting, feeling the knots in my stomach, feeling beaten down, hopeless, feeling like a victim all over again, nothing decided, everything floating uncertainly in the air, with failure the only likely outcome; this time with Emily sitting silently by my side, practising her nine-year-old’s gentle diplomacy by immersing herself in her book, bravely pretending that nothing is wrong, when she knows that everything is as wrong as it could be.
There is one thing that’s not wrong, and I must find a way to make sure she knows that. The one thing that’s not wrong is that we are alive. We have survived. We have survived everything Father Gerrard, and those paedophiles, and those jurors, and the Attorney General have done to us. Ken and Emily and I are alive; we have survived. We are a family, and we’re still here, and we will still be here, tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.
Until now, I’ve been alternating between anger and self-pity, with flashes of guilt that I ca
n’t match Emily’s courage: her courage, which shames and humiliates me when I compare it to my own incessant state of fear. It breaks my heart when she reminds me so much of Joan, as she does more and more, as every day goes by, with her patience and her quiet stoicism. But now, my anger seems to have turned inwards. It’s not on the surface any more. I’m aware of it, and I know I can harness it at any time. But another feeling has come over me now. I’m not sure quite how to describe it. It’s not resignation, exactly, because I still want to fight these people tooth and nail, if Julia and Ben can find a way to do it. It’s more like a feeling of waking up to reality, of becoming aware of what I’m up against. John Singer and the Ely mafia were the least of our worries, if only we had known it. I don’t even know what forces are arrayed against us now, and I can’t imagine their strength; and I confess to a certain cynicism creeping into my mind. I’m thinking, for the first time, that there may be forces too strong for people like me to challenge. I’m thinking, for the first time, that it may really be true, what people say: that there’s one law for the powerful and well connected in this world, and one law for the rest of us.
46
Thursday 12 September 1974
‘This has nothing to do with Six, Julia,’ Baxter said.
They were walking slowly through Green Park in an early onset of cool autumnal air, having emerged from the underground station via different exits, in conformity with Baxter’s aging classical notions of tradecraft: another well-tried venue, another well-honed method: another promise to answer any questions he could, but no guarantees.
‘I wish I could believe that,’ she replied.
‘It’s true,’ he insisted. ‘We didn’t approach the Attorney General. I found out about this from the lunchtime news on the Home Service, or whatever they call it now. I told you before, we have no interest in interfering with the trial.’
‘What you told me before was that you didn’t have any interest in Father Gerrard. You seemed to have quite a lot of interest in Bishop EF.’
‘We’ve seen the statement he made to the police. It doesn’t concern us. It surprised us, to be honest. He kept our secrets better than we’d expected.’
‘He talked about the service’s involvement with Lancelot Andrewes during the war, and the word is already out about a German man being involved.’
‘Yes, but he didn’t name Six, and he didn’t name Father Köhler. There’s no reason for us to try to suppress it. Frankly, it would probably only make things worse if we did. Anyway, we didn’t. I know that because if we had, I would have been the one to arrange it.’ He smiled. ‘C always saves jobs like that for me.’
‘Then, who did?’ she asked, with a sudden flash of anger.
He stopped; she also stopped and turned to face him.
‘You really should come and work for us, Julia. You have all the necessary paranoia already in place. Why do you think someone has been prowling around backstage here? According to the news, it was defence counsel who applied for the nolle prosequi, which, apparently, they’re entitled to do. It sounded to me as though the Attorney General had his reasons for what he did. I’m sure you don’t agree with him – I wouldn’t expect you to – but he had his reasons. Why does there have to be something sinister in it?’
‘Mark Henderson is virtually standing counsel to the Home Office. You don’t think he could prowl around backstage if he wanted to?’
‘In that case, why aren’t you talking to the Home Office, instead of me?’
She took a copy of the order from her purse and held it out towards him. He took it and read it quickly.
‘Two defendants not up to the strain of standing trial, heavy publicity, legal concerns about the evidence. I’m not seeing the service’s fingerprints here.’
She moved closer to him and used her thumb to point on the paper. She read the sentence she had pointed to. ‘“In the case of the Right Reverend EF, it would be against the national interest to allow the case against him to proceed.” What does that mean, for God’s sake, if it doesn’t mean that someone is worried about EF shooting his mouth off? What else about this trial could conceivably harm the national interest? And exactly what representations was Her Majesty’s government making to the Attorney?’
‘I don’t know, Julia. I told you: we’re not worried about EF’s statement.’
‘You really weren’t worried about what he might say if he gave evidence? He probably would have, you know. I have three witnesses who identify him as an abuser. He would have had to come up with something.’
Baxter thought for some time. ‘All I can tell you is that we’re not responsible for this. We’ve known each other a long time, and I hope you know by now that I wouldn’t lie to you.’
‘Unless it was in the national interest?’
He smiled. ‘Unless it was in the national interest. The rest of the time, I might refuse to answer your questions, but I wouldn’t lie to you.’
She returned the smile, and they resumed their walk.
‘Who else might have done this, Baxter?’ she asked, her voice quieter now.
He shook his head. ‘I honestly don’t know, Julia. Five, possibly? They’ve had an interest in EF for longer than we have. But if it was Five, I’d expect them to mention it to us. They know we’re an interested party when it comes to EF. I’d be very surprised – and very annoyed, frankly – if they kept us in the dark.’ He paused. ‘Why aren’t you looking at the Home Office? You said their counsel was involved, and there is a connection, isn’t there – the waiver of fees in Woman B’s case? Are there other examples?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, eleven in all. But we have no direct evidence of Home Office involvement except in Woman B’s case.’ She paused. ‘Would they do something like this without telling you?’
‘Why would they tell us?’
They resumed their walk.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked, after a prolonged silence.
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do. We’re meeting tomorrow to talk about it.’
‘Is it possible,’ Baxter asked, ‘that by “national interest” the Attorney General meant that any prosecution must be fair to the defendants, nothing more than that?’
‘He used the word “unfair” in referring to Gerrard,’ Julia pointed out. ‘With EF, he talks about the “national interest”. I would expect the Attorney General to use some precision of language. So in his mind, there’s a difference.’
Baxter laughed. ‘If he wrote it himself –’
‘Whether or not he wrote it, one would hope he read it before he signed off on it.’
‘If whoever wrote it gave sufficient thought to the wording, then you might have a point. But you should read some of the memos that circulate in our office. Not that I’d let you, of course, but if I did, precision of language isn’t the first thing that would spring to mind.’
He stopped again.
‘Julia, the Attorney General has the reputation of being incorruptible, and we certainly think of him as a straight arrow.’
‘I know. But any mention of the “national interest” has a way of influencing people’s judgement.’
‘If I were you,’ Baxter said, ‘I would try to entertain the idea that the defence got the better of you.’
‘I don’t think they did,’ she insisted.
‘Even so…’ Baxter replied.
47
Friday 13 September 1974
‘I like your idea of supper and a couple of drinks, Julia,’ Ben said, with a grin. He and Jess had just arrived at Julia’s luxurious town house, which was secreted away in a quiet, elegant street in a prestigious quarter of Knightsbridge. On being shown into the dining room by a young woman in a smart black and white maid’s outfit, they had been met by the sight of a large table standing against the wall, on which were displayed a whole salmon, dis
hes of caviar, bowls of green salad and potato salad, and heaped plates of sliced fresh French bread. Three bottles of Veuve Clicquot champagne on ice, and the same number of bottles of Evian water, were carefully positioned behind the food. A man in evening dress and another woman in the same black and white uniform were standing nearby, one at each end of the table.
‘I leave the details to Jean-Claude and his merry men and women,’ she replied, with a nod to the man, who returned it respectfully. ‘Cater in, that’s what I say. It’s the only way for a girl on the go.’
‘It’s magnificent,’ Jess said.
Julia hugged her. ‘Ben told me your news, Jess. It’s great. I’m so pleased for you.’
Jess kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘And, of course, you know Ginny and Michael.’
‘Of course.’
Ginny hugged and kissed Jess in turn. ‘Our congratulations too, Jess. I don’t know why I haven’t seen you since Ben told me, but we’re very happy for you both.’
‘Thank you, Ginny. How’s your case in the High Court going?’
‘Settled yesterday,’ Ginny replied, ‘halfway through trial, on very good terms. I’m in a very, very good mood.’
‘Michael,’ Ben said, shaking hands. ‘It’s been a while. How are you? How’s practice?’
‘Flourishing, thank you, Ben. The inhabitants of Walthamstow are as litigious as ever, especially in the family courts, I’m glad to say. Long may it continue.’
The man and the young woman moved among them, he with the champagne, she with the Evian and orange juice. Everyone except Jess took champagne. They stood as a group in the centre of the room and raised their glasses.
‘I’d like to propose one or two toasts,’ Julia said. ‘First, to Ben and Jess, and their forthcoming new arrival. Every happiness.’
They drank.
‘And to Audrey, Ken, and Emily. May they prosper: and confusion to all their enemies.’
