by John Wilson
The courtroom was filling up. A clerk had come in to sit at the desk in front of the judge’s seat and one or two members of the public had come into the public gallery high above Adam on his right. Preston was sitting down, legs crossed and staring into the middle distance. He had made no eye contact with Adam. Adam looked back again at the metal door leading to the holding room. Novak should be in there by now.
Adam heard a rustling of anticipation at the front of the court and saw an usher moving towards the judge’s door. People began to stand in readiness. Suddenly, from behind the metal door, there was the sound of running footsteps and rattling keys. The usher froze and everyone else turned to look at the back of the court, and then chaos erupted as the metal door was flung open. A guard emerged, his face white and eyes bulging, his mouth an O of shock. He was shouting something but in the crescendo of panic Adam could not make it out. Then he realised that the man was pointing at him and beckoning him urgently to come over. Adam dropped his notebook and ran to the back of the court with Jones fast on his heels. The guard opened a door in the panelling and almost pushed Adam into the holding room.
Novak was sitting on a bench and breathing heavily, his head down. His arms were being held at his sides by two other guards, also blowing hard. Adam noticed that he was no longer wearing a tie. As he got closer he saw a harsh and ragged rope mark across Novak’s neck.
– Stupid bastard!
one of the guards shouted. And then to Adam:
– Bloody idiot tried to top himself.
He loosened his grip a little on Novak’s arm and sat down heavily next to him.
– We found him with his tie in a noose round his throat. He was going red and his neck was bulging over the tie so we couldn’t untie it. Had to cut the bloody thing off. Then we found this.
The guard held up a short piece of flex.
– He tied that just as tight under the tie but with the knot on the other side. Bloody nearly got away with it.
Adam put a hand on Novak’s shoulder.
– Tomas. Are you all right?
Novak shrugged the hand away and said nothing. The usher poked her head around the door to find out what was going on. Mr Justice Sherdley had been stalled in the outer hallway and was becoming impatient. Adam said to the guards:
– He’s not fit to stand trial. Look at the condition he is in.
– No bloody chance. He’s standing trial all right.
– I’m going to ask to have the case adjourned.
– No you’re bloody not!
Then Adam and the guards were all shouting at once, Jones tugging at Adam’s sleeve.
– Stop it! Stop it! Shut up! I want the trial to go ahead!
It was Novak.
– Are you sure, Tomas?
– Don’t call Katya.
Novak was breathing more normally now. He looked up at Adam and Jones.
– I’m ready.
They bundled their way back through the metal door and down into the well of the court. Adam’s wig was lopsided and he adjusted it as he made his way back to counsel’s row.
– Fine client you’ve got there, Falling.
Preston smiled icily in his direction.
– Not a very good hangman though is he? Never fear. We have a very good one waiting for him.
Adam said nothing and resumed his seat. Jones behind him did likewise, smoothing the remains of his hair and trying to make himself look invisible. The public gallery had filled up – no official secrets were going to be divulged in open court – since the ruckus had broken out. Adam heard behind him the sound of Novak shuffling into court between the two guards.
The usher, back by the judge’s door, opened it and barked out “Court rise,” and in a flow of crimson and white Mr Justice Sherdley entered, looked at the assembly, slight puzzlement playing across his features, bowed, and sat down. The assembly bowed back and resumed their seats.
Peter Preston KC stood up to address him but was waved back into his seat. The judge looked in Adam’s direction.
– Mr Falling. Would you mind telling me what is going on?
– My Lord, I apologise for the inconvenience to your Lordship. As you know I represent Mr Novak. Mr Novak has found these proceedings extremely stressful and I am afraid that he attempted just now to take his own life.
The judge leaned forward and removed his spectacles.
– And how, may I ask, did he do that?
Adam explained as the judge listened intently.
– Mr Falling. These are, of course, very serious charges. One can completely understand that your client must be under considerable pressure. I want to ensure that his trial is as fair as it can possibly be.
He was looking down at the shorthand writer as he spoke.
– Is Mr Novak in a fit condition to continue?
– My Lord, he wishes to do so.
– Do you have that in writing from him – endorsed on your brief?
– My Lord, no. This only happened in the last few minutes.
– I think, if he wants to continue, he should put that wish down in writing.
Before Adam could reply, Novak shouted out from the dock.
– I want this trial to continue!
– Will you control your client, Mr Falling?! He must speak through you or not at all! Very well. There is an official note of what Mr Novak has told me. Bring in the jury panel.
A jury was selected and sworn in. Adam used two out of the three objections that he was allowed so as to exclude two potential jurors who he thought looked inimical to his client. Novak was told to stand and the indictment put. He pleaded not guilty in a clear voice. Adam looked for a reaction on the faces of the jury when they heard his strong Czech inflection. It was clear that, for some of them, Novak’s accent was the first piece of evidence for the prosecution.
Then Peter Preston KC stood, bowed to the judge, and smiled warmly in the direction of the jury as he began his opening address.
Chapter Fifty-five
(3rd March 1941)
The jury were looking straight past Adam, fixing all of their attention on Preston, so that he was able to study each of them unobserved. One could learn a lot about the jurors just from the way in which they came forward and took the oath: their accents, their names, their standing. The rest one was free to invent. There were two women, one young and one old, from the East End. An elderly labourer, also from the East End. A veteran from the last war, his medals across his chest – Adam had considered making an objection to him but felt that this would be seen by the man’s colleagues as an unpatriotic thing to do. One very well-dressed lady who spoke with aristocratic assurance. Next to her was a man whom Adam thought to be a grocer. There was a wealthy-looking man of retirement age, a Bloomsbury type, a man who was probably from the railways, two men from the city and a Jewish lady. She had been called forward as Feinstein but insisted that she had changed her name to Finlay when she made her affirmation. All in all they were a mixed group of people. But they had one thing in common: they were listening with rapt attention to every word Preston uttered, occasionally allowing themselves a hostile glance in the direction of Novak in the dock.
Adam had never been against Preston before and, grudgingly, he had to accept that he was very good. His voice was friendly but not overly so. It embraced his whole audience and it told them that he was one of them. He was courteous in his introduction of Adam, as if to say, he is also on our side but someone has to defend the man in the dock. It was not the voice Preston had used when he and Adam had met briefly in Stirrup Court in January when the latter had come to look at the plans. An actor’s voice, thought Adam. He could have challenged Olivier or Gielgud for their crowns.
He had begun his speech in a conventional way, introducing the players in the case and reminding the jury of the technical terms of the indictment before saying by way of explanation:
– In common parlance the Crown alleges that Tomas Novak was trying to help Herr Hitler and t
o put our lives … yours and mine … in danger. You will have noticed that he was also charged with conspiring with others … although he is alone in the dock …
He had turned with a flourish to point at Novak, who was sitting with his head down and his hands clenched together between his knees as though he was praying.
– … I will return to our allegation of conspiracy in a moment. But first let me tell you what the Crown alleges to be the history of this matter.
He then set out to them the circumstances of Novak’s arrest in the early hours of Monday 16th December and of the lifting of the floorboards in his bed-sitting room.
– And what did the officer find, members of the jury? He found this!
He had turned with theatrical slowness to the cardboard cylinder sitting in front of his junior and picked up with exaggerated care, as though he was lifting up gelignite. He’d held it up to the jury, turning it slowly between his fingers so that the seam spiralled in front of them.
– What is so important about this? Why does it bring us all to this great building today? But before I turn to the contents of this … canister … perhaps I can give you a brief history of one of the wonders of our city.
And he had proceeded to tell them about the days when sewage spilled unchecked into the Thames, the outbreaks of cholera and the accidental (he added emphasis) deaths of thousands of innocent Londoners. He provided a thumbnail history of the establishment of the sewage system and the creation of the pumping stations dotted around the capital that cleansed the water and made it safe to drink again.
– That purified water would be sent to our great reservoirs and from there it would flow out into our taps, our glasses and our pots and pans. We use it for drinking, for cooking and for washing. Ladies and gentlemen, we all know that we are now engaged in a terrible war which is not of our making. In this war we are all warriors now. The enemy throws death down on us from on high. We are all now on the front line. We are all part of England’s armies. We have all of us lost friends … members of our families … here and abroad … or we fear such losses in the dark days ahead. Yes. We are all part of an army. And an army needs food, yes, but it also needs water.
Preston then moved on to describe the Abbey Mills Pumping Station and to explain how it was responsible for their water. Then he paused for a long time and looked each member of the jury, one by one, in the face.
– But what has any of this to do with Mr Novak? I will tell you now what was found in this container.
He held it aloft again for them all to see and they stared at it with renewed intensity.
– This tube contained plans of the Abbey Mills Pumping Station … and this tube also contained detailed plans for the making of bombs!
The aristocratic lady gasped and covered her mouth whilst all the other jurors turned and gave Novak looks of undisguised hatred.
– The Crown says that it is clear beyond any reasonable doubt that whoever possessed these documents, whoever tried to hide them under the floorboards, was planning to sabotage our drinking water. To poison us from the innocent taps in every kitchen and to cause the deaths of many innocent Londoners.
He paused for effect and looked at the faces of his now captive audience.
– Just as Goering and his aircrews are bombing us from above, the Crown says that Mr Novak wished to attack us from below. To kill us in our own homes.
He turned slowly again towards the dock and looked without speaking at Novak, then turned back to face the jury.
– So. What can I tell you about Mr Tomas Novak? Well, you will have already heard from the way in which he entered his plea to this court that he is not one of us. He is a foreigner in our city. He is from Czechoslovakia. He is a Jew.
Mrs Finlay, formerly Feinstein, lowered her head and tried to make herself invisible in the jury box.
– He came to us, so he says, as many did, to escape from the Germans. Our country has shown great compassion and trust and has taken in many who have been persecuted abroad. And we are entitled to have their trust and loyalty in return. But sometimes, members of the jury, our trust has been abused.
Preston then told the jury of the Crown’s belief that Novak had entered the country only days before his arrest, of the fact that he had initially stated that this was the case before making up a story that he had been in England for some ten months. Not one witness interviewed by the police, not even his landlord, supported this fairy tale. The truth, he said, was that Novak had entered the country with the intention of causing sabotage and death on behalf of Hitler. Preston then turned to a different subject.
– A little earlier I told you that the Crown accuses Mr Novak of conspiring to make us lose this war. “Who with?” you might ask. Mr Novak is alone in the dock. Unfortunately, we have enemies in our presence, not all of whom are known. Mr Falling will say to you “Ah, but none of Mr Novak’s fingerprints have been found on the tube so how can it be that he handled it?” That is perhaps the strongest part of his defence. But the point is illusory, members of the jury. For there were other fingerprints on the tube, not yet identified. Does this not show that, far from Mr Novak being innocent as he insists, he is part of a wider conspiracy of people aiming to destroy our way of life? Mr Falling will tell you that Mr Novak has always denied any involvement in a plot. But, members of the jury, he would say that, wouldn’t he?
It was clear that Preston was coming to the end of his speech. He had created an electricity, a bond, between him and each member of the jury. There was no doubt now that they were on his side. Adam looked from the jury across at leading counsel for the Crown. He was standing erect and he was speaking now with a greater familiarity than he had allowed himself at the beginning of his address, as though he and the jury now knew one another well and were almost friends. He held no notes.
– I want to finish, members of the jury, by reminding you of what we are fighting for in this terrible war. We are fighting for our survival of course. But we are also fighting for more than that. We are fighting for our history, our heritage and for everything that over many centuries has made Britain the great country it is. Our composers, our poets, our inventors and our leaders. Ours is a country which has not been defeated for almost a millennium. Ours is the country of Lord Horatio Nelson, of Isaac Newton, Dr Johnson and Sir Francis Drake. Ours is the country of William Shakespeare, the greatest writer the world has ever produced. How did Shakespeare describe us? I will remind you: Act II, Scene i of Richard the Second:
“This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise …
And then with great emphasis:
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea.
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Against the envy of less happier lands
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England!
Members of the jury, you, we, are all part of that happy breed. It is this England that you are today called upon to protect. The Crown will be asking you to listen carefully to all of the evidence, for and against, and to convict Tomas Novak of treachery.
How often had Preston used that quotation when addressing a jury in a treason trial? He allowed his words to sink in – in other circumstances Adam felt he would have won a round of applause – and then turned to the judge and said:
– My Lord, I will now call my first witness.
Preston called the officers who confirmed the circumstances of the arrest, the notes of interview and Novak’s conflicting stories as to when he arrived in England. He called a fingerprint expert who confirmed that Novak’s fingerprints had not been found on the cardboard container. Then he called someone from the London Metropolitan Water Board who confirmed the accuracy of the plans of Abbey Mills
Pumping Station and explained its history and the areas of London that it serviced. After that he called an expert witness who confirmed that the instructions for the creation of bombs were viable. Adam asked what questions he could but he had so little to go on. He relied, inevitably, very heavily on the absence of any fingerprint evidence to connect Novak to the plans and bomb instructions, but Preston’s reliance on the possibility of a wider conspiracy meant that the jury were not particularly impressed with that aspect of the evidence. He challenged the evidence of the landlord but was met with a vehement rejection of the suggestion that Novak had been his tenant for more than a matter of days. Of course, he put to the arresting officers that Novak had always denied any involvement with a plot to sabotage the water supply, but, again, Preston’s words were hanging in the air: he would say that, wouldn’t he? Above all, he was hampered by his conviction that Novak was not telling him the truth.
By the middle of the afternoon the prosecution case had been completed. The jurors, who by the end of the opening were smiling at Preston, avoided Adam’s eyes. There could be no doubt but that they wanted to convict.
As easy as shelling peas, Adam thought grimly.
There was half an hour of court time left. Adam rose to his feet, looking over his shoulder at the dock behind him.
– My Lord, I call Tomas Novak.
Chapter Fifty-six
(Tuesday 4th March 1941)
– Thank you very much, Mr Novak. If you could wait there, Mr Preston will have some questions for you.
