by Tony Kent
It allowed her to give the answer Elton wanted:
‘Understood.’
FIFTY-ONE
Michael listened intently as Matthew Cole QC continued his cross-examination.
So far Cole had been effective. No more than that. But Michael knew what it was that Cole needed to prove for O’Driscoll to stand a chance with the jury. He also knew how exceptional a barrister Cole could be.
And so he knew that the best was yet to come.
The witness was Jay Price. An old friend of the defendants. At least according to him. Darren O’Driscoll said otherwise, Michael knew. So did Simon Kash. It was one of the few things Kash had been willing to tell them.
Michael had not known what to expect of Price. Nothing in the man’s witness statement said anything significant about its maker. It made Price a blank slate. Someone to be analysed, his strengths and his weaknesses identified.
Michael had spotted them quickly. He did not doubt that Cole would have seen them, too.
Peter Epstein QC had questioned Price carefully, taking a very different approach to the one he had applied to Keith White the day before. The phone expert’s delivery had been effortless. Today was different. Today Epstein had to control a witness just as eager to speak, but far less skilled at the task.
Most of Price’s evidence matched his witness statement. He explained to the jury how he was a long-term friend of both O’Driscoll and Kash. How the three had been close since school. He also admitted knowing Terry Colliver. Not a close friend, he explained. More a casual acquaintance. A friend of a friend.
Price had gone on to tell the jury of his disgust at his friends’ crime. How their murder of the Galloway twins had been the breaking point in his relationship with them. How they had tortured the brothers, how they had dismembered them and how they had boasted about their crimes.
The pleasure they had taken in what they had done, he explained, was the final straw.
Epstein had taken his questions slowly. He had concentrated on details Price could give of the killings; things that only the murderers could have told him, that he could not have known from anyone or anywhere else.
Epstein had made a point of turning to the jury whenever such a detail came out. Meeting their eyes whenever Price referred to something the jurors had already heard; a detail they would recognise as accurate. The message behind Epstein’s theatrics was clear: how else would the witness know this? Other than from O’Driscoll and Kash?
It was a good performance. But not a perfect one. Price had not been controlled completely. That was not Epstein’s fault. The rules of questioning his own witness prevented Epstein from suggesting the answers, which gave Price more latitude than Epstein would have liked. It was an opportunity to go off-script and Price had seized it time and again by adding evidence that had not appeared in his witness statement.
It was the classic mistake of a witness with an agenda: trying to make things worse for the defendants.
Michael and Cole had shared a glance every time Price had tried to twist the knife in this way. Both had seen this many times before and so they knew what Price was doing. And both knew how counterproductive it really was; how weakened the evidence became by each of these additional lies.
Once Epstein was done, it was Cole’s turn to question Price.
Cole started gently. He made no effort to attack Price and instead seemed to guide him. He took Price to what Cole believed were his lies, from both the original statement and what Price had added today, and confirmed that Price stood by each of them as true. What Cole was doing was undramatic but it was also vitally important. It tied Price to his own dishonesty, leaving him no room to manoeuvre when Cole’s real cross-examination began.
‘Mr Price, you’ve told this jury that you were disgusted by what your friends Darren O’Driscoll and Simon Kash had done to the Galloway brothers. Correct?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Sick to your stomach, I believe you said.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘From the very beginning, Mr Price?’
‘Sorry? What d’ya mean?’
‘I mean, were you “sick to your stomach”, as you say, from the first time you knew what they’d done?’
‘Yeah. It was disgusting. Animals don’t even do that sorta ’fing.’
‘And you told us that this was very shortly after the murder, wasn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No more than three days after, you said.’
‘Yeah. Probably less.’
‘So no later than December 18th? Three days after the murder of the Galloway brothers?’
‘Like I said. Probably earlier.’
‘Was this the first time you had heard about the murder? When Mr O’Driscoll and Mr Kash told you what they had done?’
‘Course it weren’t. It was all over the bloody news. Everyone’d heard about it. In my area, anyway.’
‘So did you already have an opinion on the murder? Before speaking to your friends?’
‘Bloody right I did. I fought it was disgusting. You don’t do that sorta fing to anyone. Whatever they’ve done.’
‘OK. You already had strong views, then. And then your old school friends suddenly announced that they had murdered the Galloway twins.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did you tell them there and then how disgusted you were with what they had done?’
‘I . . . erm . . . I . . . No. No, I didn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well they’d just bloody murdered two big fellas, hadn’t they? What would they do t’me if I’d started going on at ’em about it?’
‘But you were their friend, Mr Price. They wouldn’t attack you, would they?’
‘They would if they thought I was gonna grass on ’em, wouldn’t they? They don’t like me enough to risk a bloody life sentence, do they?’
‘Then why on earth would they have ever told you about it in the first place?’
Price did not answer immediately. Cole’s question had clearly not occurred to him.
He glanced towards Epstein, seemingly looking for help. Epstein did not look back. Price was on his own.
‘I . . . I . . . look, I don’t understand. What d’you mean?’
Cole jumped on the opportunity.
‘What I mean, Mr Price, is that apparently Mr O’Driscoll and Mr Kash would not hesitate to kill you if you expressed so much as a little disquiet about what they had done. Which means that they did not feel they could completely trust you. So why, then, Mr Price, would they take the risk of telling a person they could not completely trust all about a crime for which they could be sent to prison for the rest of their lives?’
Price stayed silent. Perhaps realising his error. Cole’s question – Cole’s speech, really – made perfect sense. And it demanded an answer.
Price finally gave one.
‘I guess they just wanted to boast.’
There was no confidence in Price’s voice. It sounded as if even he did not believe what he was saying.
‘That’s it, is it, Mr Price?’
Cole had no intention of leaving the answer alone.
‘These two men had committed a crime for which they could be imprisoned for life. And they risked that imprisonment just because they felt the need to boast. Is that really your answer?’
‘I’m not sure this is a fair line of questioning, My Lord.’ Epstein had risen to his feet. ‘Mr Price cannot be expected to know why the defendants would have chosen to speak to him. He has no insight into their mindsets or motivations.’
‘Perhaps not, My Lord,’ Cole countered. ‘Or perhaps the conversation reported by Mr Price never happened, and the lack of any good reason for the defendants to have spoken to Mr Price is proof of that. But I think the point has been made, so I’ll move on.’
Epstein retook his seat. Michael could see his irritation; his interruption had given Cole the chance to make his point in the most direct way possible. A glance across
to the jury told Michael that at least they had enjoyed Cole’s response.
‘OK, Mr Price, let’s move on then.’
Cole’s Liverpudlian accent was becoming more pronounced.
He’s beginning to enjoy himself, Michael thought.
‘You’re shocked. You’re disgusted. No later than December 18th.’
‘That’s what I said, ain’t it?’
Price’s mistake had left him rattled. He reacted to that with belligerence.
‘It certainly is.’ Cole smiled. Another gift. ‘And we know why you didn’t tell Mr O’Driscoll or Mr Kash how disgusted you were during that conversation. Because you were afraid of what they would do to you.’
‘I’ve already told you that.’
‘I know you did, Mr Price. Just bear with me.’ The smile widened. ‘So you’re sick to your stomach, to use your own words. You must have been itching to end that conversation then, right?’
‘Right.’
‘Because you must have been desperate to get down to the local police station, mustn’t you?’
‘What?’ Price looked confused. ‘What are you talking about now?’
‘Let’s take it in stages. What they had done had disgusted you enough to give a police statement. I mean, you did give such a statement, didn’t you?’
‘You know I did.’
‘Yes, I do. And you must have been desperate to give that statement, so disgusted were you. You must have wanted to make it as soon as you could after the 18th of December. Is that right?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. They couldn’t be allowed get away wiv it. Not what they done.’
‘Exactly, Mr Price. And may I commend your sense of civic duty. Your sense of justice.’
‘Er . . . well I . . . er . . . fank you?’
‘You’re welcome, sir. Now, would you please look at a copy of your original handwritten statement?’ Cole looked towards a member of court staff. She was robed like the barristers, but without their wigs and traditional collars. ‘Madam Usher, would you be so kind?’
The usher approached Cole and took a small bundle of papers from his outstretched hand. Price’s first witness statement. The usher took the copy to Price and placed it on the edge of the witness box.
‘Please take a moment to confirm that this statement is yours, Mr Price. That it’s the statement you made to the police and signed as being true.’
Price looked at each page closely. Until he was satisfied.
‘Yeah. It’s mine.’
‘Good. Now, please read out the date that appears on the bottom of every page of your statement. You’ll find it next to your signature.’
Price just stared at the page without answering. Cole gave him a few moments before insisting.
‘The date, Mr Price. What is it?’
‘It says March 1st.’ The answer stuck in his throat. Its meaning unmistakable.
‘I’m sorry, did you say March 1st?’ Cole feigned surprise. ‘As in, March 1st the following year? Two and a half months after the conversation with Mr O’Driscoll and Mr Kash? That can’t be right, can it, Mr Price?’
‘You know the date.’ The answer was quiet.
‘What did you say, Mr Price?’
‘I SAID YOU KNOW THE DATE!’ This time the answer was shouted. Price’s composure had disappeared. ‘DON’T PRETEND LIKE YOU DON’T!’
Cole waited for a few moments. For Price’s angry outburst to sink in with the jury. Cole met their eyes as it did and shook his head, as if shocked by the reaction.
‘So you waited two and a half months to give a witness statement?’ he finally continued. ‘But you told us how strongly you felt about this, Mr Price. How disgusted you were. Sick to your stomach, you told us.’
‘I know what I told you.’ The fury was still there. And the volume.
‘Mr Price, you are to keep your answers and your demeanour civil.’ Judge John Levitt had heard enough. ‘Mr Cole is entitled to ask you the questions he is asking. You are to respond to them in a civilised manner.’
‘I didn’t come ’ere to be treated like shit!’ The judge’s warning had not worked; Price was still shouting. ‘I ain’t gotta take this from any of you people.’
‘You most certainly have to take it from me.’ Levitt’s voice was raised. It matched Price’s, in volume if not in aggression. When he spoke again it was quieter, but no less authoritative. ‘Because if you do not then you will not be leaving this courtroom through the front door. Do I make myself clear?’
Price was not a clever man. That much was apparent. But he knew enough to understand the judge’s threat. And to know that Levitt meant it.
Chastened, he turned back to Cole.
‘So please explain, Mr Price. Please explain why it took you over two months to go to the police and make a statement.’
‘’Cause I was scared.’ Price’s voice was now quiet. Almost nervous. And it might have been convincing, had it not been for the eruption moments before. ‘I was afraid what they’d do to me if they found out I was talkin’ to the police.’
‘And yet you made a statement in the end anyway. What changed, Mr Price? What made you come forward, after being so afraid of the consequences?’
‘Because the police arrested Terry Colliver, didn’t they? They nicked the wrong fella.’
‘You mean you couldn’t stand to see that happen? You couldn’t stand idly by while an innocent man was tried for murder?’
‘Yeah. That’s right.’
‘So you came forward. Despite Mr O’Driscoll and Mr Kash being your friends, and Mr Colliver being a man you hardly knew?’
‘Yeah, I did. Don’t make no difference, friends or not. I wasn’t gonna let Colliver go to prison for what those bastards done.’
‘Are you sure Colliver wasn’t a friend of yours, Mr Price?’ The smile returned to Cole’s face. ‘Was he not in reality your great close friend, and Mr O’Driscoll and Mr Kash just people you knew?’
‘No.’
Michael could tell from his body language that Price had expected this new line of questions. That he had prepared for it. His indignation was practised.
‘I bloody knew you’d say that, didn’t I?’ Price continued. ‘Well it’s bullshit. Colliver’s no mate of mine. Never ’as been. Never will be. They were my friends.’ Price pointed at the dock. ‘Right ’til I realised what a pair of psychos they are.’
‘OK.’ Cole was utterly unfazed. ‘We’ll come back to that in a moment. First though, let’s go back to your change of heart.’
‘To my what?’
‘To the thing that overcame your fear. To Terry Colliver’s arrest for a murder you knew he had not committed.’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, you say that it was his arrest that made you change your mind. That made you go to the police.’
‘Yeah.’
‘And that arrest was on the 29th of December, wasn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you heard about it very soon after that, didn’t you?’
‘Who says I did?’
‘You did, Mr Price. In a manner of speaking. Remember earlier? When I asked when you’d heard about the murder? What did you say? According to my notes you said, “It was all over the bloody news. Everyone had heard about it. In my area, anyway.” That is what you said, isn’t it?’
No answer.
‘We can have the tape of your evidence played back if you’d like, Mr Price.’
‘Yeah, it’s what I said,’ Price hissed, his anger once again simmering under the surface. Only Levitt’s threat of a cell was keeping him in check.
‘Which must mean that just ten days later the murders were still big news. Especially since someone you knew – albeit you say you didn’t know him very well – was arrested for them. Correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which means that you knew about Terry Colliver’s arrest two months before you gave your statement.’
‘So what?’
‘So I’d like to know why there was such a delay. Colliver’s arrest made you overcome your fears, Mr Price. It made you come forward. Made you cooperate with the police. That’s what you’ve told us. But when we look at the timeline we see that it took two whole months to have that incredible effect. Why, Mr Price? Why did it take so long?’
Price glared at Cole without answering. Cole met his gaze and held it. A stand-off manufactured for the jury’s benefit, Michael knew.
‘The jury can draw their own conclusions from your failure to answer,’ Cole began. ‘I’ve just got one last subject to ask you about. Something we touched on a moment ago.’
‘Yeah? Go on, then.’
‘Patience, Mr Price. We’re getting to it now.’
Cole smiled again. By now Price must have known the smile’s meaning. That there was more damage to come.
‘You’ve said that you were no particular friend of Terry Colliver.’
‘That’s right.’
‘But you were aware that between December last year and the beginning of March this year, Terry Colliver was in custody in Wormwood Scrubs Prison in West London? Charged with the murders of the Galloway brothers?’
‘Yeah, I knew that. Everyone knew that.’ Price seemed more comfortable as they returned to Colliver, the subject for which he had obviously prepared. ‘But that don’t make us mates though, does it. Like you said, the murder was big news.’
‘Yes it was, Mr Price. Yes it was. Now tell me, did you ever visit Mr Colliver in custody?’
‘No.’ Price answered quickly and with confidence. ‘Never. Why would I?’
The poor guy thinks he’s back on solid ground, Michael thought, sure of what was still to come. He couldn’t be more wrong.
‘Well, it really isn’t for you to be asking questions, Mr Price, but since you have I’ll give you the courtesy of an answer. What I am suggesting to you is that if you had visited him it would have been so that you could discuss what to say in your witness statement. What lies you could tell to get your friend out of trouble.’
Epstein was on his feet before Cole was even half finished.
‘My Lord, Mr Cole knows that such a comment is completely unacceptable. He cannot suggest a motive for a visit which he has not suggested actually occurred. I strongly—’