Reluctant Consent

by Margaret Barnes

  ‘And?’

  ‘I can’t see any connection between this man and the case.’

  ‘Have you reported it?’

  ‘No. There haven’t been any threats. It’s just that he seems to know such a lot about me. Not just details from our website. It’s a bit unnerving. Actually, it’s getting to me.’

  ‘You should make a complaint.’

  ‘I’ve thought about it but I’ve a really difficult trial about to start.’ Cassie stood up and then sat down again. ‘I don’t want to waste time making a statement when it might be nothing …’

  Alex nodded. ‘Will you think about the drugs … if any one of your colleagues knows anything or says anything. It may be our best chance of catching this dealer.’

  After Alex had left, Cassie remained in the library, her mind jumping between the Montgomery case, Delaney, and now Alex’s plea for help. Perhaps Stephen – he was such a gossip; he might know who was taking drugs.

  It wasn’t difficult to contrive having a drink with Stephen. He was always ready for a night in a wine bar. They headed for Daly’s on the corner of Essex Street and the Strand. It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to the problems of fee collection.

  ‘What’s going wrong? Any idea?’ Cassie said.

  ‘Not really. I’ve asked Zoe and she shrugs her shoulders and blames others for not submitting their fee notes.’

  ‘I’ve asked her to chase some fees, but she says she hasn’t time. It could be there’s too much work for one person. Chambers is nearly double the size it was.’

  ‘Jack could get someone else if that was the problem.’

  ‘Someone else to pay. And with the cuts in Legal Aid …’

  ‘Would be difficult. I can see that. Changing the subject – Roger …’

  ‘What about Roger?’

  He leant forward and lowered his voice. ‘I’ve heard he was arrested with some drugs. Personal use only, but still.’

  ‘And we’re still employing him?’

  ‘Apparently he says he found the wrap in the toilet.’

  Cassie opened her eyes wide. ‘Really?’

  ‘And Jack decided it was better to keep him on. Didn’t want him saying one of the tenants took drugs. Actually I’m surprised Jack is so naïve.’

  ‘Who uses drugs? I can’t think of anyone who does. Are you saying you believe his story?’

  Stephen nodded. ‘Absolutely. We don’t pay him enough. He couldn’t afford to buy them. Unless he’s dealing.’ He drew back and looked at Cassie. ‘You knew about Roger, didn’t you?’

  Cassie picked up her wine glass and took a gulp. ‘I knew what he told the police. I didn’t know someone in chambers was taking drugs. I’m not surprised, but I’ve never seen any sign. Do you think he’s supplying drugs? Alex Seymour came to see me. She told me the drugs are contaminated and the police want to find the supplier quickly. Trying to prevent further harm. I said I’d help. We don’t want police officers crawling all over chambers.’

  ‘Definitely not.’ He pushed his hand over his face. ‘No one is going to admit taking drugs. It’s mainly the youngsters, although well … country house parties. But not your scene. You don’t go to the clubs some of the younger ones go to. That’s where they get them. But I’ve never heard of anyone having drugs in chambers.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who might have dropped them?’

  ‘Maybe. I think, possibly. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. On the other hand …’

  ‘They’re dangerous. Whoever it is should be warned.’

  ‘You could introduce me to the beautiful detective. I’d be quite happy being her snout.’

  Cassie laughed. ‘You’re incorrigible.’

  ‘Don’t use dirty words to me.’

  Chapter 14

  Cassie made her way up to the fourth floor and pushed open the door of her room. As usual, it looked like a rubbish tip. She sighed in despair as she picked her way through the bundles of papers on the floor, and then pushed half-empty coffee cups to one side of her desk to create a space for the two rather slender briefs and the letters she had just picked up from her pigeonhole. She promised herself, not for the first time, that she would spend an afternoon decluttering her desk and the space around it, but it would have to wait. There were more pressing things to do. Amongst the official correspondence, reminders about VAT and the advertisements from the numerous suppliers of legal books and equipment, there was a blue envelope with the address in an elegant script. She turned it over in her hand, but before she could open it, a face topped by a thatch of red hair appeared round the door.

  ‘You are in – Hamish thought you might have gone home,’ James Callan said. ‘I’ve just been told about this Montgomery case. Thanks for suggesting me for the junior brief.’

  ‘That’s ok. Mind you, I didn’t ask for you because of your brilliant mind …’

  ‘Or my beautiful body?’

  Cassie laughed, although she did think he was a rather good-looking man, if a bit too young for her.

  ‘Afraid not. Really, it would have been better if the client had agreed to have Sayeed or Aysha, but he refuses to be represented by anyone who isn’t white. He’s already sacked two leading counsel and Tim’s only concern is that we get through the trial. We’ve got Judge Crabtree and he doesn’t want an unrepresented defendant.’

  James nodded in agreement. ‘Does this guy have a defence?’

  ‘Yes, I think so – self-defence. I take it you haven’t read the statements yet?’

  ‘No, I’ve only just got them.’

  She described how the incident had started and how, under provocation from the three youths, Montgomery had picked up a golf club he kept for just such an event. ‘Then one of them drew a knife and threatened him. That’s when he struck out, but instead of hitting the boy with the knife he caught one of the others on his head. The force of the blow damaged the brain.’

  ‘Some blow. What number iron was it?’

  ‘No idea. Not relevant. The Crown will say Montgomery is a racist, which is true, and he struck out in revenge not self-defence. There’s a video of some of the incident, but the police haven’t let Tim have a copy yet. Anyway read through the papers, and when we get the DVD we’ll get together and watch it. The case may turn on how many steps our client took before he struck out.’

  ‘You said he was provoked, so what about running loss of control? Doesn’t that provide a defence?’

  ‘To murder but not manslaughter. He’d have to plead and I don’t think he will.’

  ‘Do we know who’s prosecuting yet?’

  Cassie grinned. ‘Yes, Marcus Pike.’

  ‘The Silk who led you in the Barker case?’

  ‘That’s the one. He’s very sharp but hides it well. Tries to make out he’s just your average bloke.’

  ‘And his junior?’

  ‘I think it’s Robin Tasker.’

  ‘Right, I’d better start reading.’

  After he left she sat for a few moments; she thought again that James Callan wouldn’t have been her first choice. He was an able young barrister but he couldn’t provide any insight into the young witnesses’ minds. She would have to do the best she could. As her mind wandered over the evidence in the Montgomery case, she noticed the unopened letter. She picked it up and slid her finger underneath the flap; some instinct told her this was from Delaney. She pulled out the sheet of pale blue notepaper and unfolded it. The note, printed from a computer, read, ‘You really shouldn’t spend so much time working. Every girl deserves a little fun. Come fly with me.’

  Cassie threw the note across her desk. Who was it continuing this unwanted intrusion into her life? And why? She picked up the envelope again and looked at the postage stamp. Pity it’s self-stick, she thought; licking either the stamp or the envelope would leave saliva that could be matched with DNA, if the writer was ever caught. She wondered whether she should make a complaint of harassment against Delaney, but he wasn’t threatening her,
at least so far. For a moment she considered talking to Alex again and asking her to try and trace the man. Perhaps warn him off. But Cassie knew Alex would repeat her earlier advice and tell her to make a formal complaint. She wasn’t ready for that. The notes were creepy but not abusive. Anyway, she didn’t want to have the hassle of reporting the matter to the police, hanging around some police station to provide a witness statement, and then, months from now, perhaps having to attend court to give evidence. She opened the drawer of her desk and shoved the note and the envelope to the back, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the Sadler trial.

  Chapter 15

  Cassie had left home soon after eight thirty so she would have time for a cup of coffee in the Bar Mess and compose herself before the trial of Paul Sadler started. She needed that time; the journey by Tube didn’t take long on the Central Line from Notting Hill Gate to St Paul’s, but it was never comfortable, the carriages packed as workers made their way into the heart of the City. Then there was always a queue at the entrance to the courts as the assortment of people – defendants, lawyers, police officers, witnesses and jurors – waited their turn to go through the security barriers in the front hall.

  When she was at the front of the queue, the security officer recognised her and greeted her by name; she was warmed by that acknowledgement – it confirmed she was a regular at the Bailey. She walked through the glass tubes, which looked like something from a spaceship and were the equivalent of a sniffer dog able to detect anything untoward. She placed her bags on the X-ray machine, waited for the police officer to wave her through and then she made her way to the top floor. There was still enough time for that cup of coffee.

  In the Bar Mess she saw the bald head of her opponent, Hugh Palmer. He waved her over and after getting her caffeine fix, she sat down opposite him. She was fond of Hugh. He was mild mannered and scrupulously fair; it helped when dealing with these difficult cases. Today he didn’t look as calm as usual, constantly pushing his half-moon glasses back onto his nose. He grinned at her. ‘I thought you’d stopped doing rapes?’

  ‘I’ve agreed to do this one.’

  ‘New solicitors?’

  ‘Something like that. Lee Shaw – do you know her?’

  ‘Not really. She represented a kid accused of taking part in a gang rape I prosecuted a while back. Came to court some of the time. Quite pushy, I thought.’

  ‘She thinks this guy’s innocent.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘The case seems weak, but … Have the police taken statements from the other women he contacted?’

  ‘Your solicitor got there first. They confirm his story.’

  ‘So the other Rush Hour Crush notices aren’t relevant. I think that part of Sadler’s interview shouldn’t be given in evidence. Crawford’s assumption is not supported.’

  ‘I can’t agree. Crawford’s insisting it goes in. Sadler lied about them and the jury are entitled to ask themselves why he did so.’

  ‘You don’t need to refer to it in opening do you?’

  ‘I needn’t if that’s what you want.’

  ‘I’ll make my application before we begin if you do, otherwise I can leave it until we get to the interviews. We’ll still have time to get the women to give evidence if Judge Tyte allows it in.’

  ‘You’d call them?’

  ‘Why not? They confirm what Sadler says.’

  ‘I guess so. Ok, I’ll not use it in opening.’

  Cassie nodded. ‘Right, I’ll go and see if my client has arrived.’

  Outside Court 11, standing by a window in the broad corridor that served as a waiting area for the courts on that floor, Cassie saw Lee Shaw and her client Paul Sadler. Sadler had taken her advice and dressed in a dark grey suit, pale blue shirt but no tie. Lee by contrast was wearing jeans and a T-shirt covered by a navy blue jacket. ‘They can’t see what I’m wearing when I’m sitting down,’ she said when Cassie raised her eyebrows. Cassie explained to Sadler that he would have to surrender to the prison staff and he would be brought back into the dock at the beginning of the trial. ‘I’ll ask for bail to continue at all the adjournments. I’m sure he’ll grant bail overnight, but sometimes judges prefer defendants to remain in custody during lunch. It avoids any risk of meeting witnesses or jurors.’ Sadler swallowed hard but said he understood.

  ‘You’ll plead not guilty when the clerk of the court puts the charge of rape to you. Then a jury panel will be brought into court. We can only object to anyone being on the jury if they know you. If there is anyone you think you do know, tell Lee straight away. It’s very unlikely but it does happen.’

  ‘What happens if there are a lot of women on the jury? Won’t they be prejudiced against me?’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s my experience that women can be quite harsh on other women. The difficult ones are men who have daughters.’ She had just finished speaking when the usher asked Sadler to surrender.

  Cassie walked into court and across to the end of the benches closest to the jury, the position the defence team traditionally took. She put all her files on the front row and rearranged the chairs so that there was sufficient room for all the papers in the case in front of her, and then she placed her copy of Archbold to her right. She pulled out a green leather pencil case and placed that next to an unused counsel’s notebook; she wrote her name on the cover and underlined it with a flourish. Finally, she fished a packet of mints from her handbag and placed it to the left of the notebook. These arrangements were part of a ritual she repeated before every trial, making sure everything was in reach. Normally this habit calmed her and made her feel comfortable but not today, not in a rape trial.

  A few minutes later Hugh arrived in court followed by a woman who looked like a forty-year-old harassed housewife. He rolled his eyes skywards and waved his arm behind him. ‘Detective Constable Leanne Pomfrey. Miss Hardman is defending.’

  The officer nodded in her direction and then turned to Hugh. ‘Can we have a word, sir?’

  ‘Can’t it wait? The judge is about to come into court.’

  ‘It’s quite important and …’ Hugh put his file on the bench and walked back towards the door underneath the public gallery.

  Cassie tried to ignore them and busied herself with her papers. She could hear odd words from the conversation between Hugh and the officer. ‘Mrs Gilbrook … not … daughter …’

  And then Hugh quite clearly: ‘It’s the daughter alleging rape.’ Cassie kept looking at her documents. Hugh moved over to counsels’ bench, pulled the hem of his robes round him and plonked himself down.

  A moment later Judge Tyte trotted into court. He was a small man with a teddy bear figure inconsistent with his reputation. He acknowledged counsel then took a hard look at Lee. ‘Bring the defendant up.’

  Cassie turned round in her seat and watched Paul Sadler walk into the dock. It was such a long way from where she was sitting. Nothing like an American courtroom where defendants sat with their defence team. Lee got up and went to stand below him. The court clerk read out the indictment – one charge of rape to which Sadler pleaded not guilty.

  ‘Now, before the jury panel is brought into court … it is my usual practice in cases of this type to give a direction to the jury about the risk of making assumptions about the behaviour of victims, before the case is opened. Do you either of you have any objection to that course?’

  Cassie indicated she was happy with that. She had no intention of suggesting there had been any delay in Emma Gilbrook making the complaint, but Hugh said, ‘May it not be better if it is given during the summing up?’

  The judge pursed his lips. ‘I prefer to give that direction at the beginning.’ Before Hugh could say anything else he asked for the jury panel to be brought into court.

  As they were called to take their place in the jury box, Cassie made a note of their names. When the twelfth was making his way across the courtroom, she looked at Lee to see if she needed to challenge any of them. She knew her sol
icitor would have asked Sadler if he did know any of them. Lee shook her head.

  One by one the jurors took hold of the bible and read the oath to try the case on the evidence. Cassie watched them and tried to make some assessment of their personalities – who they were, where they came from, their occupations and more significantly their prejudices. She wanted to feel at least some of them were open-minded, ready to listen to all the evidence and arguments, but how could she tell? There were a few signs all barristers looked for – the newspapers they were carrying, the clothes they were wearing – but she wasn’t sure they were of any value.

  She became aware that one of the men on the panel was staring at Sadler. The man then beckoned to the usher and whispered to her. The usher turned towards Judge Tyte. ‘My Lord. The juror says he believes he knows the defendant.’

  Judge Tyte looked at Cassie, who got to her feet. ‘I don’t think …’

  Lee came and stood by her. ‘He doesn’t recognise him,’ she said.

  ‘How do you think you know the defendant?’ Judge Tyte asked.

  ‘I work at Heathrow, sir, and I think he does too.’ The juror nodded in the direction of the dock. ‘We’ve never spoken, or anything.’

  ‘Miss Hardman, I’ll excuse this juror rather than there be any hint of outside knowledge, unless you have anything to say.’

  ‘No, My Lord.’

  Another juror was called into the jury box and took the oath.

  The clerk to the court asked the defendant to stand and then turned to the jury. ‘Paul Sadler is charged that in March this year he raped Emma Gilbrook. It is your duty having heard all the evidence to say if he is guilty or not guilty.’

  Judge Tyte began by explaining the hours the court would sit and asked them to try and be punctual.

  ‘Now there are two directions I want to give you right at the start of this case. It is important that you try the case on the evidence you hear in this court, not on something from any other source. It is easy in today’s world to search for information on the internet, but I am instructing you not to do any such searches in respect of this case. It wouldn’t be fair to either the complainant or the defendant if you brought into the jury room information of which they are unaware and which they cannot confirm or deny.