Cut_Throat Defence

by Olly Jarvis

  Marpit nodded.

  ‘If you get convicted for this, we can apply to put you on numbers.’

  ‘You mean segregation?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Marpit was coming around to the idea. ‘OK,’ he answered, resigned to his fate. ‘Melanie’s forced me and I’ll tell ’em everythin’. See what happens, eh?’

  ‘Just tell the truth, Carl.’ Jack patted Marpit on the back as he guided him out of the cell. ‘There’s no time to take you through your evidence. I don’t know what you’re going to say. We’ll just have to play it by ear.’

  Carl smiled ruefully as the prison officer returned to handcuff him.

  ‘They want you upstairs now, Mr Kowalski.’

  ‘Two minutes, officer,’ said Jack. ‘Carl, you have committed an offence by absconding – the judge will probably have you arraigned on it now. You don’t really have a reasonable excuse for absconding, do you?’

  ‘What’s the sentence?’

  ‘On a plea, four months; you’ll serve half of that.’

  ‘Fuck it. I’ll plead guilty.’

  ‘Yeah. Makes sense.’

  ‘What are me chances on the big charge?’

  ‘Very good,’ replied Jack, reaching for the door handle. ‘You won’t know this, but we destroyed Finch in the box. We’ve proved you were giving evidence to Walsh. He’s actually part of a rival operation, run by Elvis Boyle.’

  Marpit was taking it all in.

  ‘Once you give evidence that you were told and believed you were a participating informant, you’ll have a good shout with the jury. Whether you were or weren’t doesn’t matter. Skart has pretty much accepted that Finch’s evidence, if contradicted, can’t be relied on.’

  ‘So, I’ll say that then.’

  Jack stopped. ‘Carl. What do you mean, “I’ll say that then”?’

  Lara jumped in. ‘It is true, isn’t it? You were a participating informant?’

  Carl looked at them but said nothing.

  ‘OK. You thought you were a participating informant?’

  Marpit had a question of his own. ‘This conversation is privileged, right? You can’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Correct,’ replied Lara.

  Marpit shook his head. ‘I knew I wasn’t working for the NCA. I’m sorry.’

  Jack took his wig off and threw it against the wall. ‘I don’t believe this.’

  ‘So who were you working for?’ continued Lara.

  ‘Don’t know. I guessed some criminals from up north. They knew Melanie. Wolfy represented them.’

  Jack’s mouth fell open. ‘I don’t fucking believe this. You were guilty all along. Why tell us now?’

  ‘You’ve done all this work without me even being here. I thought I could trust you. I can, can’t I?’

  Lara was still confused. ‘But why tell Finch that stuff when you were arrested? That you were meant to slip away?’

  ‘Wolfy said if it all comes on top, don’t worry, we’ve paid off a bent officer – Finch. He’ll see ya right. It was bollocks, to help make me do it. It was the lads on the wing, after my arrest, said to say I was a participating informant. That it was me only chance of getting off.’

  Jack and Lara couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Marpit was just another smart-arse drug dealer.

  Marpit continued. ‘I had to come up with somethin’. Only a matter of time before The District found out I was a grass. I had to get me and Mel somewhere safe.’

  Jack paced the cell, trying to take it all in. ‘That’s why you instructed me, isn’t it? You needed an idiot to run this defence!’

  Marpit ignored the question. He needed an answer of his own. ‘So should I say I thought I was working for the NCA, then?’

  ‘No. That would be lying!’ Jack was finding it hard not to completely lose it. ‘But if you do say that in the box, based on what you’ve just told us, we’d have to withdraw – we’d know you were lying, so we’d be professionally embarrassed. You’d be on your own. And I don’t fancy your chances once the jury sees us turn our backs on you.’

  Carl had misunderstood the situation – badly.

  Lara was more constructive. ‘Carl. The right thing for Melanie is to be honest. She took a big risk coming here to give evidence for you. Do the right thing by her. Plead guilty, yeah? You’ll get a reduction in sentence because of the intelligence you provided, which was going to the NCA – although you didn’t know that – and brought an end to this conspiracy.’

  ‘Did it? Well that’s something I suppose.’ Marpit considered the suggestion. He really did want to do the right thing by Mel. Tired of lying, tired of running. He sighed. ‘All right. I’ll plead guilty. Just try and keep it as low as you can.’

  Jack shook Carl’s hand. He respected his courageous decision. ‘Carl, the judge will ask me when he sentences you. Was it just for the money? To pay for Mel’s rehab? How much was it?’

  ‘For the money?’ Marpit laughed. ‘They paid me, but it wasn’t about money. I wouldn’t have done any of this for all the tea in China.’

  The prison officers were banging on the door. ‘The judge has called it on.’

  Jack ignored them. ‘Why then?’

  ‘They said they’d waste Mel if I didn’t do what they said.’

  ‘What?’ said Jack. ‘Say that again.’

  ‘They said Mel would be killed.’

  ‘Did you believe them?’

  ‘What do you think?’ replied Marpit.

  A prison officer came into the room. ‘Come on, now!’

  ‘Hang on,’ ordered Jack. We need more time. Five minutes. Tell the judge we are discussing pleas. That’ll keep him happy.’

  The officers left to take the message upstairs.

  ‘The irony, Carl, is that on your instructions we have run a defence that was complete bullshit, and yet you may have had a true defence all along.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Duress!’

  ‘Duress?’

  ‘Jack,’ asked Lara, less convinced. ‘Since I’ve been in practice, I’ve never seen anyone actually running duress as a defence, have you?’

  ‘No, not so far, but there are cases on it. Pass us my Archbold?’

  Jack quickly flicked through. He knew the book well. ‘Here we are.’ He read aloud. ‘Duress is a defence to all crimes except murder, attempted murder and treason, involving the death of the sovereign.’

  ‘Well, we’re OK so far,’ said Lara.

  He turned another page. ‘It’s this bit: “well-grounded fear, produced by threats of death or grievous bodily harm, or unjustified imprisonment, if a certain act is not done, as overbears the wish not to perform the act, and is effective, at the time of the act, in constraining him to perform it.” It also says the threat can be to the defendant or to an immediate family member.’

  Lara grimaced at the convoluted definition. ‘So if Marpit thought Melanie was going to be killed if he didn’t do what Walsh told him, he has a defence?’

  ‘Yes, in theory, but here’s the problem.’ Jack read on, ‘It is always open to the prosecution to prove that he failed to avail himself of an opportunity to render that threat ineffective, if it was reasonably open to him.’

  Jack ran his hand through his hair. ‘Basically, Carl could have gone to the police at any time. The Lynch case gives an example of someone having a pistol held to their back and a hand grenade put into their hand to use. Marpit’s situation is hardly comparable.’ Jack read more. ‘But even if the threat is of non-immediate, it can still be a defence.’

  ‘So,’ said Lara, ‘ultimately it’s a question for the jury, whether they accept you were acting under duress, Carl.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Jack. ‘It’s pretty weak. But it is a defence.’

  Marpit listened to the two young lawyers.

  One of the prison officers came in. ‘That’s it. The judge has said you’ve got to come up. Now!’

  Jack closed the book. ‘Carl, it’s your call. Guilty plea fo
r a lesser sentence, or run duress?’

  ‘It’s a no-brainer. Duress.’

  Chapter 72

  By the time Jack and Lara walked into the courtroom, everyone except judge and jury was in their seats. Excitement was in the air. A pattern was developing – anything involving Kowalski usually led to fireworks.

  Jack nodded to the usher as they took their seats. All eyes were on the judge’s door, waiting for the knock that would signal his arrival.

  ‘All rise!’

  Jack remained on his feet. ‘I am grateful for the time to reacquaint myself with the defendant, My Lord.’

  ‘I am quite sure you do not intend to apply for bail, Mr Kowalski.’

  ‘No, My Lord.’

  ‘Put the Bail Act Offence to him now.’

  The clerk arraigned Marpit. He pleaded guilty.

  ‘I will sentence him at the conclusion of the trial,’ announced the judge, with a glance at the press box. Then, with a hint of sarcasm, ‘Before the jury comes back, Mr Kowalski, what do you intend to do next? Would you like the defendant to be re-arraigned on count one as well?’

  ‘No, My Lord. He maintains his plea of “not guilty”.’

  The judge sighed.

  ‘My Lord, I appreciate that it is usual for the defendant to give evidence in his own defence before his defence witnesses. These are, however, unusual circumstances. So, with Your Lordship’s leave, I will call him now.’

  Mr Justice Skart leant forward a little and peered over his spectacles. ‘Mr Kowalski, not to hear from Mr Marpit at all during this trial would be akin to staging Hamlet without the Prince, would it not?’

  ‘Quite so, My Lord.’

  ‘Bring back the jury.’

  Bingham and Katterman sank into their seats as their juniors rifled fretfully through their papers.

  Once the jurors were seated they feasted their eyes on Marpit. They’d heard so much about him – now they could not only see him, but also hear his barrister: ‘I call Carl Marpit.’

  Jack had prepared an examination-in-chief aimed at extracting supportive testimony from Marpit. However, since he didn’t as yet know the answers to many of his questions, it broke all the rules of advocacy.

  ‘Where were you born, Mr Marpit?’

  ‘West London. Hammersmith.’

  ‘Would you like some water, Mr Marpit?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Marpit’s hand was shaking as he took a cup from the usher.

  Jack needed to soften things. ‘Mr Marpit. The jury may want to know a little something about you, so I am going to ask you a few questions about your background. Do you understand?’

  He nodded.

  The judge intervened. ‘Please answer the question, Mr Marpit. The tape recorder doesn’t pick up a nod.’

  ‘Sorry, My Lord. Y-y-yes,’ he stuttered.

  ‘Did you grow up in that area of London?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How did you do at school?’

  ‘Not very well. I got bored easily. I used to bunk off a lot.’

  ‘You got in trouble with the police, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Without going through the whole list, it’s fair to say that you were repeatedly convicted of criminal damage, shopliftings and dwelling-house burglaries.’

  ‘Yes.’ Marpit squirmed.

  ‘These offences started when you were thirteen and ended when you were nineteen, some of which led to sentences of up to eighteen months in young offenders institutions?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Why did you get involved in crime?’

  Marpit shook his head. ‘I really don’t know, Mr Kowalski. Maybe ’cos my father left when I was a nipper. No one to control me. Maybe I got in with the wrong crowd. Maybe I was just a bad kid. I was certainly an angry kid.’

  ‘The wrong crowd? Do you mean a gang?’

  ‘I dunno if “gang” is the right word. When you say that word people tend to think of initiation ceremonies ’n’ all. It was never like that. I just hung out with blokes from the estate where I grew up. That’s why gangs get known by areas.’

  ‘The jury have heard about The District. Were you in that gang?’

  ‘Like I said, it was never a gang to me. But I did grow up with people around Hammersmith, and as they got older they spread to areas like Acton and Ealing, which are on the District Line, so people referred to ’em as The District. But it didn’t have members or anything like that.’

  ‘What do you mean by they “spread”?’

  ‘Areas where they had control over the drug dealin’.’

  ‘Do you know your co-defendant, Mr Purley?’

  ‘Oh yes, I know ’im. We grew up together, on the estate. Both got sent down for burglary at Feltham Young Offenders, when we were teenagers.’

  ‘Was he a friend?’

  ‘I suppose so. Like many other kids from my neighbourhood.’

  ‘So why did all the convictions stop when you were nineteen?’

  Marpit’s eyes glistened. ‘I met Sandra. We got married and had Melanie.’ He smiled lovingly across at his daughter, sitting in the public gallery. ‘They changed my life. I studied for the Knowledge, and to everyone’s amazement, I got it. I spent the last twenty-five years as a cabbie. I was done with crime.’

  ‘Where is Sandra now?’

  ‘She died of cancer. It hit us both very hard, me and Mel.’ It was clearly painful for Marpit to talk about.

  Jack had opened him up and was now ready to move on to the facts of the case. ‘Throughout that twenty-five-year period, did you come across Purley again, or indeed anyone loosely connected to The District?’

  ‘Yes. Occasionally I would pick up a fare off someone I recognized, or bump into someone in a pub. I probably saw Purley two or three times, but he’s the sort of person that you’d cross the road to avoid.’

  ‘Why is that, Mr Marpit?’

  ‘He’s trouble. A psycho.’

  Some of the jurors glanced at Purley sitting impassively in the dock.

  ‘Perhaps you could give us an example of what you mean?’

  Katterman rose to his feet to object to this line, but the judge was having none of it. ‘Mr Katterman, by calling evidence of Mr Purley’s good character, and attacking Mr Marpit’s, Mr Purley has, to use the old-fashioned parlance, lost his shield against attacks by counsel on his own character. You were saying, Mr Marpit?’

  ‘Like I said, a psycho. When we were kids he used to tie up stray cats and set them on fire. Things like that. He got more sadistic as he got older. Once I saw him stick a screwdriver through someone’s eye in a row over a cigarette packet. We were all shit scared of him. Er – ’scuse me.’

  ‘As far as The District was concerned, was he given any responsibility?’

  ‘Some.’

  ‘A leader of men?’

  ‘Sort of. But he was too much of a fruit loop to be a proper boss. A highly trusted lieutenant, you lot might say.’

  ‘What’s a fruit loop, Mr Marpit?’ enquired the judge.

  ‘Sorry. He was unstable, too unreliable.’

  ‘Who was the boss?’ asked Jack.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Kowalski, but I can’t tell you that. I want to live. He was just another gangster.’

  ‘We know from the evidence that you were involved with Purley again. How did that come about?’

  ‘I was in my local pub in west London and a man came in and spoke to me. I’d never seen ’im before in my life. Told me Mel was a drug addict and that he was very concerned about ’er. I already knew she was using. I was worried sick and wanted her to come back to London, but she wouldn’t.’

  ‘Did he say who he was?’

  ‘No. I assumed at first he was a doctor. Seems stupid now. He was very smartly dressed, with a posh voice. Then I realized he wasn’t. He said Mel had been telling people I grew up with The District and how useful that could be to them. I couldn’t believe what I was hearin’.’ Marpit shook his hea
d in despair, reliving the horror of that first meeting. ‘This bloke told me to get back in touch with Purley and get involved in their drugs operations. He gave me a phone number and told me to keep him informed of what was goin’ on.’

  ‘Let’s just go back a bit, Mr Marpit. Did he ever tell you his name, or who he was?’

  ‘Well, he said to call him Wolfy. That was it.’

  ‘Did you agree to do as he asked?’

  ‘Not at first. I told him he was mad if he thought I was gonna get back into crime. But, eventually…’ Marpit looked down. ‘I agreed.’

  ‘Did he ever threaten to harm you?’ interrupted the judge, impatiently. He wanted to know if there was a defence of duress to leave to the jury.

  ‘No, My Lord. He didn’t.’

  The judge made a careful note. ‘Carry on, Mr Kowalski.’

  ‘Mr Marpit, why did you agree to get involved then?’

  ‘He said Melanie would be found dead of a drugs overdose if I didn’t do as he asked.’

  ‘So you are saying he made a threat against Melanie’s life?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’ He sounded angry now.

  ‘Why didn’t you go to the police?’

  ‘Maybe I should’ve, but I thought he would find out and, you know – Melanie,’ he whispered, his voice cracking.

  ‘Couldn’t you have got Melanie and run away?’

  ‘I didn’t know who I was running from. And Melanie was in no fit state for that.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘Once I agreed, he told me to come and collect Melanie. He said they had paid for her to go somewhere to get clean. It was residential; the best. So I collected her and drove her down to Kent to the clinic.’

  ‘When was the next contact?’

  ‘About a week later Wolfy came into the pub again. He gave me thirty grand in cash. He told me to keep ten and lose the other twenty on the gee-gees with a local bookie. It would be my cover. I would then go to Purley asking for a well-paid job to pay off my gambling debts. He knew Purley would check out my story.’

  ‘And is that what you did?’

  ‘Yeah. It was easy to get back in with the lads ’cos of our history. They loved the fact I was a cabbie. Perfect cover. They would use me to deliver coke and heroin around London, in the cab.’