Gareth Dawson Series Box Set

by Nathan Burrows

  “What’s going on?” I asked her. “Why has it stopped?” I couldn’t remember what the proper word for stopping court proceedings was, and to be honest I didn’t care. Laura waited as the cell assistant brought over a chair for her to sit on, declining his offer of a cup of tea as she sat down. With a disappointed look, he made his way back to the table and sat down opposite Mr Jackson who just ignored him. At least it wasn’t just me, then.

  “I don’t know,” Laura said. “I haven’t got a clue.” Her words were spoken like a machine gun. “I tried to speak to Paul about it, but he disappeared to call someone.” She was speaking so quickly that I had to concentrate to understand her.

  “Have you seen this before?” I asked.

  “No,” she shot back. “I mean, yes, I’ve seen adjournments before.” That was the word I’d been looking for. “But never at this stage of the trial.” Laura took a few deep breaths, puffing the air out of her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m a bit wound up.”

  I had to stop myself laughing at her words. She was wound up? How did she think I felt? I had to fight the urge to try to reassure her, reach through the bars and take her hand to tell her that everything would be okay. Although I didn’t laugh, I couldn’t help but smile. She looked at me, and returned the smile complete with dimples.

  “Sorry,” she repeated herself. “That was a stupid thing to say.” This time I did laugh.

  We passed the time making small talk about everything but the trial. I was grateful for that, at least. Laura kept checking her phone, explaining that she was waiting for something from Paul. I didn’t think that she’d be able to get a phone signal in an underground room, but after a few minutes, the phone buzzed when she was halfway through telling me a story about going shopping at the weekend. She looked at the screen, her face lit up by the blue light, and frowned.

  “Paul’s gone back to the office,” she said. “He’s not said why. Just that he’s had to nip back to check something.” She paused for a moment before slipping the phone back into her jacket pocket and carrying on with the story. I laughed dutifully at the punchline of what turned out to be a not very funny story, but I was still grateful to her for taking my mind off what was going on upstairs in the judge’s chambers.

  After a few minutes, we ran out of small talk. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to her, but despite her best efforts to take my mind off it, I kept thinking about what was happening. I didn’t really have any recent funny stories either, and the stitches in my buttock were itching like mad.

  “So, what do you think’s going on?” I asked her. She shrugged her shoulders in the same way as she had done earlier at Paul.

  “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw a court adjourned like that was for the judge to check on a point of law, but it was raised in open court, not a sidebar.”

  “How do you mean?” I asked.

  “There was a legal point I saw raised in a case I went to while I was still in law school. It started out as an objection, then it became a sidebar, then it became an adjournment. Legal arguments don’t normally happen in front of the courtroom, especially if it means that someone ends up looking stupid,” Laura explained. “The judge in that case wasn’t sure, so she adjourned the court to check the law books.”

  “But what point of law could they be checking?”

  “I don’t know. It might not be that. It could be something else entirely.” Laura sighed, looking as frustrated as I felt.

  The next thirty minutes or so dragged by. Laura had excused herself. It was a few seconds after her mobile had buzzed on the table, so I figured Paul had texted her. I jumped as the phone on the wall rang, breaking the silence. Mr Jackson answered it, grunted a couple of times, and lumbered over to my cell. We made our way back up the steps leading to the courtroom. I sat back in my appointed spot and tried to make myself comfortable as he did the same thing next to me.

  While we waited for the jury to come back in, I looked up at the public gallery. Andy gave me a broad smile and a thumbs up as I caught his eye. Jacob was sitting next to him, his eyes downcast. It looked as if he was scribbling something in a notebook, but I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. Tommy and David were sitting in the back row, deep in discussion about something and not paying any attention at all to their surroundings, and Robert’s parents were still nowhere to be seen. I was just wondering where they were when the door behind the gallery opened and Robert’s father shuffled through, taking the last available seat.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I must apologise for the unexpected adjournment,” the judge said, looking up and down the line of the jury. “There has been a most unexpected development in the case, one which I have not experienced before in over thirty years of sitting in courtrooms. I had to refresh my memory of what to do in such cases.” The silence in the courtroom was absolute. You could have not only heard a pin drop, but it would have been deafening. “The prosecution has stated that there is no evidence upon which a reasonable jury could uphold the conviction, given the additional evidence presented by the defence counsel.” Judge Watling looked over his glasses directly at me. There was a pause of perhaps ten seconds, the longest time he had ever concentrated on me. His eyebrows went up as he refocused his attention on the jury. “What this means ladies and gentlemen, is that you are no longer required to reach a verdict in this case. I am taking that responsibility away from you and directing a verdict.” His gaze returned to me. I sat up straighter in my chair.

  “Gareth Dawson, on the charge of murder which you have been convicted of, I hereby declare that conviction null and void and overturn both the conviction and sentence. Furthermore,” he paused as a collective gasp echoed around the courtroom, followed by hushed conversations. I closed my mouth, realising that I had opened it as the judge had spoken, and looked at Laura. She stared back at me, not open mouthed, but with a broad grin on her face. I expected the judge to bang his fist on the table to silence the courtroom or something like that, but he just waited for the hubbub to die down. I think most people in the room realised he had more to say, and quietened down to hear it. “Furthermore,” he continued, “on the advice of the Crown Prosecution Service who have been in attendance during these proceedings, they do not consider that there is a case to answer for in relation to the original offence for which you pled guilty, namely that of manslaughter.” It took me a few seconds to work out exactly what he was saying. No case to answer for manslaughter? My heart thumped as I realised what that meant.

  “Given the time you have already served for what was, in effect, a wrongful conviction, they also do not think that pressing charges for a lesser offence such as assault would be in the public interest. You are as of this moment a free and innocent man.” There was a loud gasp in the courtroom, and as the noise in the courtroom increased I realised that it was from me. What the fuck? The judge rose his voice as several people in the public gallery pushed their way to the door. “Ladies, gentlemen, silence please.” He spent the next ten minutes talking to the jury, reminding them of what they could or couldn’t do after the trial, and thanking them for their service. I wasn’t listening to what he was saying, I was just numb. I didn’t know what to do, where to look. I didn’t want to look up at the public gallery out of respect for Robert’s father, but at the same time, I wanted to jump to my feet and pump my fists in the air. Point at Andy and Jacob, wave at Tommy and David. Maybe even give anyone from the press who was still there a two fingered salute. I did none of those, I just sat there with my hands in my lap, trying to process what had just happened.

  I didn’t even look up at Paul and Laura.

  46

  When Mr Jackson led me back down to the cell room underneath the court, my instinct took me straight toward the cell I’d been put in so many times before. As I walked toward the door, I heard a noise I’d never heard before behind me. I turned to see Mr Jackson laughing.

  “Where are you going fella?” he said. “You don’t belong in the
re any more sunshine.” He pulled out a chair from under the main table in the room, the one I’d seen him reading his newspaper at so many times over the last week. “Have a seat, Gareth. All we’re waiting for is some paperwork, and then you’ll be on the out.”

  I didn’t reply, but just sat on the chair he had offered me. It didn’t feel right, and I looked over my shoulder toward the cell. As I did so, Mr Jackson bustled around by the kettle.

  “White with two, isn’t it?” he asked me, throwing two teabags into mugs and flicking the switch to the kettle on. Mugs, not polystyrene cups. As it heated the water, he turned to face me and crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Well, I didn’t see that coming, did you?” he asked. I shook my head in reply, not sure what to say. “I mean, blimey, you’ve just gone from being a convicted murderer to a free man in the space of about an hour.” Mr Jackson continued talking, and I tried my best to tune him out. It was weird the way he’d gone from being sullen and uncommunicative to my new best friend, but I guessed it was just the way he related to prisoners versus people who weren’t prisoners. Maybe I had misjudged him after all?

  The door to the cell room flew open and Laura came through it, almost running. I got to my feet and turned to face her and to my surprise, she threw her arms around me and hugged me. I stood there for a second before I remembered what to do, and put my arms around her to return the gesture. Her hair was lying against my cheek, and I could smell the shampoo she used. I had no idea what sort of shampoo it was, but it smelt amazing. The feel of her body against mine felt amazing. I let go of her, embarrassed but not really knowing why. She released her grip on my shoulders and took a step back. I looked at her and saw that her face was flushed with excitement.

  “My God, can you believe that?” she said, almost squealing. There were two red patches on her cheeks, just where her dimples appeared when she smiled. “Can you believe that?”

  “That’s just what I was saying,” Mr Jackson added. “Look at him though, I don’t think it’s sunk in.” They both looked at me, and Laura smiled before starting to laugh. Her dimples punctuated the red patches on her cheeks perfectly.

  “No, I don’t think it has,” she said.

  Mr Jackson, whose first name I found out was Craig, finished making the tea just as a man in a suit who I’d never seen before came in with a bunch of paperwork for me to sign. Laura explained what the various bits and pieces were, but I couldn’t care less. All I wanted to do was get them signed and get out of the place. As he left, clutching the freshly signed forms in his hand, he walked past Paul who was just coming into the room.

  “Gareth, my dear boy,” Paul said as he reached me, pulling me into a bear hug. I wasn’t that bothered about smelling the shampoo that he used, though. “What an amazing result,” he whispered in my ear. Once we had completed the back slaps of two men hugging, we extricated ourselves and sat down.

  “What’s next, Paul?” I asked him.

  “Well, once the paperwork has been countersigned by the judge then you’re a free man. I’ve been talking to Jennifer’s father, Andy is it?” I nodded. “He’s waiting to collect you and take you back to his place while everything else is sorted out.” I suddenly realised that I had nowhere to go. The flat that Jennifer and I had rented now had new tenants in it, and as what had just happened had been so unexpected, I’d not even thought about it. Paul must have realised what I was thinking. “I’ve just spoken to Andy outside. There’s bloody press all over the place, though,” Paul said. “Did you want to speak to them?”

  “Er, no thanks,” I replied. “I’d rather not.”

  “Good lad, that’s what I like to hear. Although I suspect that you could be quite the celebrity for a while if you wanted your fifteen minutes of fame.”

  “No, not my style. I’m not interested in the slightest.”

  “Okay, no problem. Andy’s son has a car parked at the rear of the courtroom. Most of the hacks know about the rear entrance, but they’re pretty good about not bothering people if they leave from there, so I’m told,” Paul said. “So as soon as we get the nod from the judge, you’re good to go.” I looked at Laura, who had a broad smile on her face. She looked as pleased as I was.

  A few minutes later, I flinched as a phone in the corner of the room rang. Mr Jackson walked across to answer it in the absence of any of the court staff. I guessed that now I was innocent they didn’t need to be here anymore. I heard Mr Jackson, now Craig, say a few words to the person on the other end of the line before he put the handset back down. He turned to me with a grin.

  “That’s it, sunshine. You’re all good,” he said, his smile broadening. I got to my feet and he walked toward me. For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to give me a hug like Paul had done, but he just held out a hand. “We’ll sort out your personal belongings down the line, yeah?” he said as he gripped my hand like a vice. I thought for a second about what those belongings actually were.

  “You can keep them if you want, or burn them,” I replied. “But would you say goodbye to Pete for me?”

  “Course I will,” he said. “You take care of yourself, you hear? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never want to see you again.”

  I laughed and followed Paul up the stairs leading back toward the courtroom. Instead of entering the courtroom, he pushed open a door with a sign saying ‘Court Employees Only’ in bold red letters. I must have walked past the door a hundred times and never noticed it. Laura was behind me as I followed Paul down a well-lit corridor toward a fire door at the back of the courtroom. He paused at the door and turned to me.

  “Gareth, we’ll meet again soon to tidy everything away. But well done chap, that’s a real result.” We shook hands. I didn’t want to say anything as the lump in my throat was threatening to overwhelm me. I looked at Laura, wanting to give her another hug, but I knew if I did I would lose it completely. We all exchanged handshakes again, and I blinked to keep the tears at bay. Laura didn’t bother, and I could see them gathering in the corner of her eyes.

  With a flourish, Paul pushed the fire door open, and I stepped out into the sunshine.

  47

  I kept my head down as Andy accelerated the car hard out of the courtroom’s rear car park. As Paul had said, the small crowd of journalists in front of the courtroom didn’t take too much notice of us. I saw one of them raise a camera and take a picture of Andy’s car, but other than that they paid us no attention at all.

  Jacob was in the back seat of the car, at his own insistence. I’d tried to get him to sit in the front, but he wasn’t having it at all.

  “Where to then, Paul?” Andy asked me as he made his way through the traffic. “I think a drink is called for, don’t you?” I thought for a few moments before replying.

  “How about The Buck?” I said. Andy glanced across at me before returning his eyes to the road in front of him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. The Buck was the pub that Jennifer had been drinking at on the night she’d died. For some reason, I’d not been in there at all in the period in between her death and my imprisonment. I’d been past it many times, but never crossed the threshold.

  “Yeah, please. I mean, if that’s okay with both of you?” I realised too late that going there might be just as difficult for them as it could be for me.

  “Fine by me,” Jacob leaned across the back of my seat and clapped me on the shoulder. “But the first round’s on you.” Both he and Andy laughed as I patted my pockets, pretending to look for a wallet they both knew wasn’t there.

  We spent the rest of the short journey in silence. I looked out of the window as the streets of Norwich flashed past. People, lots of people going about their business, whatever that business was. It all looked so normal but at the same time, so alien. I almost asked Andy to stop at one point just so I could walk up and down the street for a moment or two, because I could. Andy and Jacob seemed to sense my mood and both remained silent, allowing me some space to think. I had a lot to think ab
out.

  Twenty minutes later, Andy eased his car into a space just down the road from The Buck. I climbed out of the car and stood on the pavement, looking around and breathing deeply as Jacob climbed out of the back seat. The three of us set off down the pavement toward the pub, and I noticed a bunch of fresh flowers tied to a tree. It was pretty much at the spot where Jennifer had died. Jacob and I stopped to look at them while Andy carried on walking.

  “Dad left them here this morning,” I heard Jacob whisper in my ear. “Every time he comes into Norwich he brings some fresh ones.” I looked up at Andy as he paused outside the pub. He didn’t look back at me, but at the river on the other side of the road. I looked at Jacob, lost for words. He shrugged his shoulders at me. “Come on mate, let’s get a pint inside you. It’s been a while.”

  As we waited for the barmaid in the pub, I looked around the interior and wondered where Jennifer had been sitting the night she died. It was bizarre, I can’t think of another way of describing it. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, imagining hearing her laughter echoing around the inside of the pub. This was a far cry from The Heartsease. It was a decent place for a start. The building must have been hundreds of years old, and I thought for a moment about how many generations of drinkers had spent their hard-earned money inside. How many convicted murderers had decided to have their first pint as free men in here? Maybe I was the first one?

  Andy, Jacob and I sat at a small round table near a bay window that looked out over the road outside, and across the river to a row of boats moored on the opposite side. I looked at the pint in front of me, the condensation on the outside of the glass, and the tiny bubbles spiralling their way up the amber liquid. I picked up the glass and took a small sip, wanting to down it in one but not trusting my stomach.

  “Cheers, gents,” I said in a quiet voice. They both took their glasses and clinked them off mine even though they were both drinking Diet Coke.