by Tony Kent
‘So fairly similar to the caution you’re given before you’re interviewed?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you understood that at the time?’
‘I ain’t thick, mate.’
‘Oh, I know that, Mr Colliver. You’re far from thick. And yet, despite your intelligence, there is no mention in that document of Darren O’Driscoll, is there?’
Colliver looked like he was already regretting his last answer. Finally he could see what Michael was seeking to achieve. He stayed silent.
‘The jury have it,’ Michael continued. ‘They can see for themselves whether you answer me or not. So we can move on to what concerns me, Mr Colliver. Which is that there is also no mention of Simon Kash, is there?’
Michael paused but still Colliver had no response.
‘Or of your supposed presence at the scene of the crime, just minutes after the Galloway brothers had been murdered.’
No response.
‘In fact, Mr Colliver, all you really say is that you had absolutely nothing to do with the murders. That you knew nothing about them. And that you were elsewhere when they were carried out. Is that not correct?’
From Colliver’s hunted look, Michael did not think it would take much more to push him over the edge.
‘Is that not what your Defence Statement says, Mr Colliver?’
‘THE BLOODY JURY’S GOT IT, AIN’T THEY?’ Colliver had reached boiling point. ‘THEY CAN READ IT FOR THEMSELVES!’
‘Lower your voice.’ Judge Levitt did not hesitate to intervene. ‘I’ve said this once in this trial and I’ll say it again, Mr Colliver: another outburst and you will be taken downstairs. Do you understand?’
Colliver met Levitt’s glare. For a moment it seemed he would try to argue. But with a visible effort he brought himself under control and nodded grudgingly, making no attempt to hide the sneer now etched upon his face. He turned back to Michael, who did not miss a beat.
‘So, would you like to explain it?’
‘Explain what?’
‘The problem with your evidence, Mr Colliver. You see, you’ve told us that you answered “no comment” because you did not think you would be charged. But that once you were charged you realised you were in serious trouble and so you gave up the names Darren O’Driscoll and Simon Kash. Except that’s not true, is it?’
‘Yes it bloody well is. I swore an oath.’
‘No it isn’t, Mr Colliver. We’ve just seen the signed document that sets out your defence, authorised by you over a month after you were charged. Almost a month after you pleaded not guilty. After you had your trial date fixed.’
‘And?’
‘Oh come on, Mr Colliver. We’re agreed that you’re a clever man. You know exactly what I’m pointing out. The problem is that long, long after the charge that apparently changed everything – that allowed you to name names – you were still telling a different story. You had still not blamed Simon Kash. Or Darren O’Driscoll, for that matter. Why is that, Mr Colliver?’
Colliver had reverted to silence.
‘Come on now, Mr Colliver. That one was an important question. If you don’t answer it the jury will surely draw its own conclusions.’
Michael let the pause drag out, as if waiting for an answer he already knew would not come.
‘Mr Colliver?’
Finally he turned to the jury.
‘So be it then,’ he said, shaking his head as if disappointed. ‘Let’s move on. Tell me, do you recall the date upon which you received your copy of the evidence upon which the Crown intended to rely in your murder trial?’
Colliver glared at Michael. If his arrogance had gone, his rage was now barely contained.
‘February 16th.’ The answer was almost a growl.
‘And that evidence included a detailed case summary, didn’t it?’
‘You know it did.’
‘Good memory, Mr Colliver. You didn’t even need to give that answer a moment’s thought.’
‘So what?’
‘So I’m just wondering if there’s a reason for that. If there was something in the case summary that made it memorable to you. That made you so sure you’d received it along with the evidence.’
No response.
‘Let’s not start the silent treatment again, Mr Colliver. It’s getting very dull.’
Michael looked down as he spoke, his tone dismissive. This time he did not wait for a response, grabbing a handful of papers from the bench and holding them up for all to see.
‘As luck would have it I’ve a copy of the case summary here. I’m going to pass you page seventeen. Take a look and let me know if it jogs your memory at all.’
Michael turned to the court usher. Handed over copies for the witness, judge and jury, before passing his extras to the other barristers.
He waited while everyone had a chance to read before continuing.
‘You agree, do you, that the police summary states that you were suspected of having murdered the Galloway brothers with Darren O’Driscoll. That the police did not believe the murders could be the actions of just one man. But that there was insufficient evidence at that stage to charge Mr O’Driscoll.’
‘Yeah, that’s what it says. But so what? It’s just what the police thought. It ain’t evidence.’
‘Indeed it’s not, Mr Colliver. But what it is is the first time anyone – including you – had put in writing or on record any belief of Darren O’Driscoll’s involvement.’
‘So what?’
‘So what? You know “so what”, Mr Colliver. It means that before you ever pointed the finger at Darren O’Driscoll, you had in your possession a prosecution document making it quite clear that the police would welcome some direct evidence against him for this crime. In other words, you knew the police wanted him before you ever mentioned his name.’
‘Oh I’ve ’ad enough of this, mate. You’re talking bollocks.’
‘What I’m speaking is the truth and you know it,’ Michael said sternly. ‘You know it very well. And what’s more, at this stage – in this document, which implicates Darren O’Driscoll – there was still no mention of Simon Kash. Not from you. Not from the police. Not from anyone. Why is that?’
‘I’m not sure this witness can speak for why a police document made no mention of your client, can he, Mr Devlin?’
Michael did not look in Judge Levitt’s direction. Just answered the intervention.
‘He can if he knows Simon Kash is innocent and is only here because of the lies he has told, My Lord. But I take Your Lordship’s point.’
Michael returned his attention to Colliver. The predator was closing in.
‘Although I guess, Mr Colliver, that once you had a document naming Darren O’Driscoll, you would then be less of a grass if you gave up his name. Since the police already had him in the frame. Is that right?’
Colliver’s eyes lit up at Michael’s suggestion. A life preserver dangled before a drowning man.
‘That’s right. That’s why I could give my statement then. Darren was already on the hook. So why should I take the fall?’
‘Why indeed.’ Michael signalled to the jury with a flourish. ‘And I’m sure there is not a man or woman here who would think badly of you for doing so. Except for one small factor.’
‘What?’
‘The date of your witness statement to the police, Mr Colliver.’
‘What about it?’
‘Your witness statement to the police is dated the 7th of March of this year.’
‘And?’
‘Well, that’s almost three weeks after you first received the evidence. After you first received the police summary that named Darren O’Driscoll, and which therefore allowed you to finally tell the truth.’
‘What?’ Colliver’s anger seemed to have dissipated. Exhausted by Michael’s relentless reasoning.
‘I want to know why it took you so long? Once you knew you could justifiably give a statement naming Darren O’Driscoll? Because the
police already suspected him. Why, then, did it take you so long to do so? Why did it take you three weeks?’
Colliver looked towards Epstein for guidance. The prosecutor’s eyes were cast downwards. There was no one else there to help.
‘Are you going to answer the question, Mr Colliver?’
Colliver directed a gaze of pure hatred at Michael.
‘I just did. OK? I just did.’
‘Really? That’s the best you’re going to do?’
Epstein began to rise to his feet. Slowly. The prosecutor clearly had little enthusiasm left. Michael waved Epstein down before he was fully up.
‘I’ll move on,’ Michael promised. He returned his attention to Colliver. ‘The fact is, Mr Colliver, you couldn’t put the blame on Darren O’Driscoll immediately because Darren O’Driscoll didn’t act alone, did he?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Darren O’Driscoll acted with you. Exactly as the police suspected in their summary, but exactly as they couldn’t prove.’
‘Darren O’Driscoll did this with Simon Kash.’ The clarity of Colliver’s words were overshadowed by his aggressive tone.
‘But you knew how badly the police wanted Darren, didn’t you?’
‘It was Darren.’
‘You knew that they wanted him so badly that it could be your ticket out if you gave him to them.’
‘That ain’t right. That’s a lie.’
‘But the police knew it was two men, didn’t they? So to get yourself off the hook someone else had to be that second man. You needed a patsy.’
‘All I did was tell the truth.’
‘So you took three weeks and you studied the evidence. You looked at everything the police had – all presented to you in the case papers – and you used it to find someone else you could put in your place.’
‘That’s not true. I’ve told the truth.’ Colliver was sounding increasingly desperate.
‘And you found Simon Kash. The bullied kid who did exactly what you later claimed to have done yourself.’
‘Kash? Bullied? Are you ’aving a laugh?’
‘You found that the telephone evidence could be interpreted as placing Simon Kash nearby, and you used it to put him in your place.’
‘I didn’t put Kash in anyone’s place. He’s a fuckin’ lunatic. I, I—’
‘And in turn you put yourself in Simon Kash’s place.’
‘No. Kash did it. Kash n’ Darren, but if anything Kash was—’
‘You and Darren O’Driscoll killed the Galloway brothers, didn’t you?’
‘Are you fuckin’ mad? Why won’t you listen to me?’
‘Because you’re lying, Mr Colliver,’ Michael replied. He was genuinely surprised that Colliver was now trying to make Simon Kash seem so enthusiastic a partner to O’Driscoll. It seemed desperate. ‘Because it was the two of you. Big, violent young men. And then when it was done Darren O’Driscoll called Simon Kash – a kid used to being bullied by you all – and ordered him to collect you both from the scene. Isn’t that right?’
‘You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.’ For some reason Colliver was shaking his head and laughing. ‘You think Kash is innocent? You think Kash was bullied? If anything he was the reason I didn’t bloody come forward earlier, not Darren. And if anyone needs to spend their life in prison—’
‘Oh don’t go ramping up Simon Kash’s role now, Mr Colliver. Not again. Because that’s what you did once before, isn’t it? To save your own skin, you studied the evidence and you used it to switch your actions – helping Darren O’Driscoll to murder the Galloways – with those of Simon Kash, who did nothing more than drive you both from the scene.’
‘NO!’
Colliver’s one-word answer was a shout. Not enough to justify an intervention from Levitt. But close. And it told Michael that the time had come.
‘You relied on the police’s desperation to land Darren O’Driscoll to ensure you’d be believed, didn’t you? You knew they’d take anyone remotely connected, provided they got O’Driscoll too.’
‘That ain’t true. None of that is fuckin’ true. I, I don’t know where you’re getting this . . . this bullshit. You, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your client is . . . Simon is . . .’
Colliver seemed close to shouting. Perhaps to rushing from the witness box. But suddenly he deflated. Did not even finish his sentence. Instead he just sat back, looking defeated. It seemed an odd reaction, but Michael did not linger on it. He had reached a critical point.
‘Tell me this, Mr Colliver. Who is Jane Gorr?’
‘What?’ Colliver was bewildered by the sudden change in subject.
‘Jane Gorr. She visited you in prison when you were remanded for murder. Six times, I believe. Who is she?’
‘She’s, she’s my mate’s bird.’ Colliver could not hide his confusion.
‘What mate? Jay Price?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Were you sleeping with her behind Jay Price’s back?’
‘Christ no.’
‘Why not? He’s not a close mate, is he?’
‘Yes he bloody is. He’s the best mate I’ve got.’
‘Really? So if Mr Price were to come to this court, stand in front of this jury and tell them that you and he hardly knew one another, that would be a lie, would it?’
Colliver froze. Michael’s shift from murder allegation to Jane Gorr and Jay Price had thrown him. Enough that Colliver had forgotten the content of Price’s statement. He remembered it now. And he must have known in that moment that he was lost.
‘I . . . I . . .’ Colliver’s words trailed off.
‘If Price had told this jury, for example, that Jane Gorr had not visited you six times so you could give her evidential details for Price to put in his statement against Darren O’Driscoll and Simon Kash, that would also be a lie, would it?’
‘I . . . I can’t say what is and ain’t in his statement, can I?’ Colliver tried to maintain his belligerence, but the fight had been beaten out of him. ‘I didn’t write it.’
‘At least not in your own hand, no.’ Michael smiled one last time. ‘But you did tell him what to say in it, didn’t you, Mr Colliver?’
Colliver stared downwards, dejected.
‘And you did that because you needed just a little more evidence to put Simon Kash in your place, right there next to Darren O’Driscoll.’
No response.
‘To have Simon Kash accused of the crime you committed with Darren O’Driscoll.’
Michael felt a surge of triumph. He expected no answer.
‘Your silence says it all, Mr Colliver. I have no more questions.’
Michael took his seat and looked across to Epstein, who was slowly rising to his feet to re-examine. A re-examination that did not come.
A noise from the back of court turned every head.
Darren O’Driscoll was on his feet in the dock. Away from Simon Kash. He appeared calm as he called out across the court.
‘Judge. I wanna see my brief. I wanna see him now.’
SIXTY-FOUR
‘Michael. I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.’
Draper’s tone was sincere and maybe a little nervous. The voice of a person proved wrong in the most emphatic manner.
Michael had not spoken to anyone since his final words to Terry Colliver. His determination to save Simon Kash had combined with his usual courtroom adrenaline to see him through the cross-examination. It had allowed him to do his job as effectively as he ever had. Maybe more effectively.
But now it was over, he felt utterly drained. He was barely even aware of where they were, having made the silent trip to the Old Bailey cells on autopilot. An unthinking routine. Until this moment, Michael’s mind had been somewhere else entirely.
When the sound of Draper’s voice broke through, he turned to face her.
‘What . . . sorry, what are you apologising for?’ Michael asked, forcing himself back into the present.
‘Why would that annoy me? It’s your job to second-guess me. It’d be wrong if you hadn’t asked.’
‘Really?’ Draper’s tone changed from nervous to a mix of hope and relief. A rare moment of vulnerability amid her usual sheen of polished confidence. Draper was keen to explain further. ‘I thought that was why you weren’t speaking to me. I thought I’d really pissed you off.’
‘Then I’m the one who should be sorry. You did your job, and you did what I would have done in the circumstances. You must never apologise for that. It’s what makes you the exceptional barrister you are.’
‘I . . . er . . . I . . .’ Draper was flustered. And blushing. Two more firsts.
‘So I’m sorry if I clammed up. And if I was short with you this morning. It’s just . . . it’s just there’s a lot going on right now.’
‘You mean Derek?’
‘Yeah. Derek. And other things. It’s not anything I can speak about.’ Michael did not want to linger on Reid. He changed the subject. ‘Interesting outburst at the end there.’
‘You mean what he said about Simon? Yeah, absolutely ridiculous. It seemed desperate; there’s no way the jury paid any attention to that.’
Michael placed his hands on the table, pushed himself back in his chair and exhaled hard.
‘Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. Except right at the end, you know. He seemed to want to say something else, yet he didn’t. He had nothing to lose, so why not say whatever it was?’
‘I think maybe you’re looking too much into it,’ Draper answered, placing her hand on to Michael’s. ‘You just wiped the floor with him. It was clear to everyone that anything he has said about Simon was a lie designed to save himself. It was a home run, Michael. Don’t second-guess it now.’
‘I guess you’re right,’ Michael replied. ‘It’s . . . it’s probably just where my head is at right now. I’m not thinking clearly. Not with, you know, everything.’
Draper squeezed Michael’s hand tighter.
‘I know you say you can’t talk about it. But if you need to? If it would help? I’m here. And I’m a good listener.’