Calling Down the Storm

by Peter Murphy

  Henry nodded. ‘I’ll try,’ he said. ‘It’s just the thought of that day being brought up time and time again.’

  ‘Keep thinking of the children,’ Jess urged.

  ‘What does our ideal jury look like?’ Ben asked, as they made their way to court.

  ‘Men who’ve been screwed over by their wives in divorce cases,’ Barratt replied.

  ‘Very helpful, Barratt,’ Jess grinned. ‘I would say older women and younger men, as long as they look old enough to have been around the circuit once or twice. No bank managers, military types, or women anywhere near Susan’s age.’

  ‘Keep a notebook between us and scribble an X for anyone you think I should challenge.’

  ‘All right, but I have a feeling you’ll be there before me.’

  ‘Not necessarily’, Ben replied. ‘I need you to use your intuition, and don’t hold back.’

  ‘Good morning, Mr Schroeder. It’s nice to see you back again.’

  The speaker was a tall, elegant man wearing a dark suit, a starched white shirt and a red tie. His black gown bore the insignia of the Corporation of the City of London. He held the door of court two open for them as they approached.

  ‘Geoffrey, sir. I was your usher in the Welsh case last year.’

  ‘Of course, Geoffrey,’ Ben smiled. ‘This is Miss Jess Farrar.’

  ‘Good morning, Miss Farrar.’ He leaned in towards Ben confidentially. ‘Mr Schroeder, I’m probably not supposed to, but I would like to say how pleased I was to read about what happened in the Court of Appeal. I thought that Mrs Hughes – well, Mrs Finch I should call her, shouldn’t I? – was a very nice lady, and to be honest I’m surprised the jury ever convicted her. I think it was a very close call. How is she doing, sir?’

  ‘Thank you, Geoffrey. She’s doing very well, and she has her son back with her – thanks to Miss Farrar.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear it, sir.’ He nodded respectfully. ‘Miss Farrar.’

  ‘Are you ushering for us today?’ Ben smiled.

  ‘Indeed I am, sir.’

  An hour later the trial was ready to begin. After challenges, there were eight men, only two seemingly over forty, and four women, the youngest seemingly in her late thirties, the others into their fifties. Each juror in turn took an oath to faithfully try the defendant and give a true verdict according to the evidence.

  ‘What do you think?’ Jess whispered, as the judge was giving the jury an introduction to the criminal trial process with the air of one who had been doing it for years.

  ‘It’s your typical Old Bailey jury,’ Barratt replied. ‘Some good, some bad.’

  ‘We couldn’t have done much better,’ Ben added.

  ‘I’m not sure about juror ten,’ Jess said. ‘There’s something about her I don’t like.’

  ‘Well, you’ll just have to turn her around then, won’t you?’ Barratt said.

  34

  ‘May it please your Lordship, members of the jury, my name is Andrew Pilkington and I appear on behalf of the prosecution in this case. My learned friends Mr Ben Schroeder and Miss Jess Farrar appear for the defendant, Henry Lang.

  ‘Members of the jury, you’ve heard the indictment read to you by the learned clerk, and so you already know that the charge in this case is one of murder. The prosecution say that this defendant, Henry Lang, stabbed his wife Susan Lang to death in a street in Bloomsbury on the afternoon of 28 April this year. He stabbed her seven times with a large kitchen knife, and the pathologist who examined Susan Lang’s body and conducted a post-mortem examination will tell you they were savage blows, blows that destroyed internal organs and severed arteries. He will tell you that Susan Lang could not possibly have survived the defendant’s attack on her. Any one of his blows, in itself, would have been fatal. She died there, in the street, before anyone could even try to save her. By the time the police and an ambulance arrived, it was already too late.

  ‘Members of the jury, on any view, this is a tragic case. Henry and Susan Lang were married in June 1962, and they have two children, Marianne, born in October 1963 and Stephanie, born in February 1966. What, you may ask, led Henry Lang to kill his wife? What led him to make such a frenzied attack on her? Sadly, members of the jury, the reason will become all too clear from the evidence you will hear. Henry Lang killed his wife because he was afraid that a judge was going to award custody of Marianne and Stephanie to her.

  ‘There had been difficulties in the marriage, and in February of this year, Susan Lang had left the home she shared with her husband in Canonbury, and made a new home for herself and the children in Pimlico. She had taken the children to live with her there. Henry Lang began divorce proceedings against her in the High Court, and had asked the judge to order that Marianne and Stephanie should return to live with him. There was nothing wrong with that, members of the jury. That’s why we have family courts, so that people in Henry and Susan Lang’s position can go before a judge and have their differences resolved by someone impartial, if they can’t work things out between themselves. Such cases are never easy for anyone involved, of course, but in most cases the parties are able to cope with them, and can start rebuilding their lives. But in this case, Henry Lang was unwilling to let the proceedings take their course, and let the judge decide. Henry Lang decided that even if he couldn’t have the children, he would at least make sure that his wife would never have them; and make sure of that, he certainly did.

  ‘You will hear that there had been one hearing in front of the judge, Mr Justice Wesley, at the end of which the judge ordered that the children should remain with Susan until the case could be fully heard. You may think that was a sensible solution. It would have done no good to have the children moved to and fro unnecessarily, when the whole thing would have been over in one or two months. The children could then have looked forward to some stability, living with one parent while seeing the other as often as possible. The judge also ordered a court welfare officer’s report. Members of the jury, court welfare officers are highly-trained men and women who interview the parties, and sometimes the children, look at the premises in which the children would be living with a custodial parent, and then report their findings to the judge. In this case, the court welfare officer was Mrs Wendy Cameron, who works from her home in Dombey Street in Bloomsbury.

  ‘You will hear from Mrs Cameron, members of the jury, and she will tell you that she arranged to see Henry and Susan Lang together at about lunchtime on 28 April, a Wednesday. Mrs Cameron will tell you about the meeting they had. She will tell you that Henry Lang appeared tense and anxious, and that he was very distressed whenever the possibility was mentioned that the judge might award custody to Susan. She will tell you that when the meeting ended, they left together, and she went to her kitchen to make herself some lunch. But within a short time, she heard the sound of a violent argument outside her house. When she returned to her front room and looked out of the window, to her horror, she saw Henry Lang stab Susan repeatedly with a large knife. She saw Susan fall to the ground, where she remained, motionless; and she saw Henry Lang sitting on the ground, next to his wife, making no effort to help her, or to seek help for her, just watching her die. Wisely, you may think, Mrs Cameron did not go outside, but she dialled 999 for the emergency services.

  ‘Mrs Cameron will tell you, members of the jury, that she did not see a knife in Henry Lang’s possession during their meeting, but clearly he had it with him when they left, and you may well conclude that he had concealed it in his coat until it was needed. You will hear from a police officer who searched Henry Lang’s flat after he had been arrested, and found a set of seven kitchen knives, identical in appearance to the murder weapon. Each knife is different in size, and the murder weapon appears to form part of that set. You will be able to see that set of knives for yourselves and draw your own conclusions. You may well think that no other conclusion can be drawn but that Henry Lang to
ok that knife with him when he left home to make his way to the meeting with Mrs Cameron and his wife. That is an important fact in this case, members of the jury, and I will return to it shortly.

  ‘The first officers on the scene were Detective Inspector Webb, Detective Sergeant Raymond, and a uniformed officer, Police Constable Williams. You will hear, members of the jury, that Mrs Cameron’s home in Dombey Street is a very short distance indeed from Holborn Police Station, where those officers are based, and so they were on the scene within a few minutes of her emergency call coming in. You will hear from those officers, and one thing you will hear, members of the jury, is that they each displayed remarkable courage, particularly DI Webb. Susan Lang was lying just off the street inside the entrance to a mews courtyard called Harpur Mews, and Henry Lang was sitting in the entrance itself, blocking access to her, and still holding the knife. DI Webb saw that it was necessary to disarm him, which he did by approaching him from in front, which inevitably meant exposing himself to the knife. If Henry Lang had attempted to use the knife against the Inspector, he would have had no real way of protecting himself from a very serious and potentially mortal wound.

  ‘I make clear, members of the jury, and I do so gladly, that Henry Lang did not attempt any violence at all, with the knife or otherwise, against any of the officers. In fact, he surrendered the knife to DI Webb without any resistance, and he offered no resistance when he was arrested, handcuffed, and taken to Holborn Police Station. One of the curious features of this case is that, not only was Henry Lang totally compliant in that way, but he also remained silent throughout, during his arrest and when he arrived at the police station. When the officers interviewed him under caution two days later, he gave them no explanation of the events of 28 April. There are two things I must say about that.

  ‘First, under our law, no suspect is obliged to answer any questions put to him by the police. That is a right we all have, and it is an important one. Members of the jury, his Lordship will direct you about the law later in the trial, and you must take the law from his Lordship, not from me. But I can safely tell you this: that you are not allowed to hold Henry Lang’s silence against him in any way. It is not evidence of his guilt, because it was his right to remain silent, and it cannot be evidence of guilt if he chooses to exercise that right. The prosecution has the burden of proving the defendant’s guilt if you are to convict. No defendant is called on to prove his innocence, and that is another reason why Mr Lang has no obligation to say anything, either before trial or during trial.

  ‘I must also tell you that Mr Lang’s silence was not entirely the result of a conscious choice on his part. You will hear that when he arrived at Holborn Police Station, he not only continued to say not a word, but he also became very cold, shaking uncontrollably. The custody sergeant, Sergeant Miller, who was responsible for Mr Lang’s welfare while he was in custody, became so concerned that he called in the police surgeon, Dr Moynihan, for advice. Dr Moynihan sent Mr Lang to Barts hospital, where he was found to be suffering from traumatic shock. They kept him for two nights and treated him as far as they could, and during that time Mr Lang recovered from the shock and was returned to the police station. The prosecution accept that Henry Lang had gone into shock after killing his wife. We say that it was simply an understandable reaction to the horror of what he had done.

  ‘After his recovery from the shock, he did speak to the officers in interview on Friday 30 April, but he did not tell them anything about the events of 28 April. Again, as I say, that was his right, and you will not hold it against him. But there is another matter that you will have to consider. Henry Lang told the police that he had no memory of those events; that his memory ended with his leaving home on that morning, and resumed only with his return from Barts to the police station two days later. Everything in between, he claimed, including his stabbing of his wife, was a blank.

  ‘Members of the jury, the prosecution do not accept that Mr Lang was telling the truth when he claimed to be suffering from amnesia about that vital period of time. The reason we do not accept it is that last Friday afternoon, when this trial was set to begin today, Henry Lang suddenly claimed that his memory had now returned. He did not say that to the police, members of the jury. He said it to his solicitor and counsel, and I am grateful to my learned friend Mr Schroeder, who immediately reported it to me. It was a characteristically fair and proper thing for Mr Schroeder to do. But the fact remains that, in the prosecution’s view, it is simply too convenient that Henry Lang’s memory has returned just in time for trial, when it was too late for the officers to interview him and discover what he has to say about the events of 28 April, and to question him about them. We may find out during the trial what he has to say about it, or we may not. Mr Lang is entitled to give evidence if he wishes, but he has no obligation to give evidence. We will all just have to wait and see, won’t we?

  ‘There is one last matter to mention, members of the jury. My learned friend Mr Schroeder was good enough on Friday afternoon to tell me that the defence will be one of provocation. Again, members of the jury, the law is his Lordship’s province, not mine, but I hope it will be helpful if I tell you briefly what that means. Provocation is a partial defence to murder. If you thought this might be a case of provocation, you would convict Mr Lang, not of murder, but of manslaughter. In other words, you will not be invited simply to find him not guilty of anything; that will not be an option in this case. If the prosecution proves beyond reasonable doubt that this is a case of premeditated murder – which we intend to prove, and are confident that we will prove – then you will convict him of murder. But if it may be that he killed only because he was provoked, then you would convict of manslaughter.

  ‘Members of the jury, as you would expect, the test for provocation is not an easy one to meet. Provocation means, not only that the defendant was in fact provoked by his victim to do as he did, but also that what the victim said and did to provoke him not only caused the defendant to lose his self-control, but also was such that it would have caused a reasonable man in the defendant’s position to do as he did. That is the question you will have to answer. Bear in mind throughout that the prosecution must prove its case, if you are to convict.

  ‘But we say that, when you have heard the evidence, you will have no doubt whatsoever that this is not a case of provocation, but the clearest possible case of premeditated murder. There is one simple reason for that, which will become clear if you will ask yourselves this question: why did Henry Lang take a large kitchen knife with him from home to a meeting with his wife and a welfare officer? There can only be one sensible answer to that question, can’t there? Henry Lang had decided to kill his wife before he ever left home.

  ‘With your Lordship’s leave, I will call the first witness.’

  35

  ‘Would you give the court your full name, please?’

  ‘Wendy Cameron.’

  Andrew Pilkington smiled. ‘Mrs Cameron, please remember that this is a large courtroom and everyone has to hear what you say; and although I’m asking you the questions, try to direct your answers to the jury.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘I’m sure you will. Mrs Cameron, what do you do for a living?’

  ‘I am a welfare officer for the Family Division of the High Court.’

  ‘How long have you worked in that capacity?’

  ‘For about seven years. I started when it was still called the Probate, Divorce and Admiralty Division.’

  ‘Can you explain briefly what a court welfare officer does?’

  ‘Yes. In divorce cases the judges often have to decide where the children of the family will live, which parent they will live with, and how often the other parent will see the children. The judge can ask a welfare officer to prepare a report dealing with all these things, to assist him in reaching a conclusion.’

  ‘Thank you. Just before I ask you about the report it
self, what qualifications does a welfare officer need?’

  She smiled. ‘I’m not sure what the formal qualifications are, if there are any. The judges rely mainly on our experience. I had a number of years of experience as a child welfare officer in North London before I applied. It’s mostly a question of knowing where to look and what questions to ask.’

  ‘I’m sure there’s no such thing as an average case, Mrs Cameron –’

  ‘No, there’s not –’

  ‘No. But can you give the jury a general idea of what you would do in order to prepare a report for the judge?’

  ‘There are certain things we always do. I’m not sure all officers necessarily do them in the same order, but they have to be done. I always begin by meeting with both parties, just to explain my role a bit more, and tell them what to expect, and hopefully to reassure them that I am neutral and I’m not starting out with any preconceived ideas.’

  ‘Then, what?’

  ‘Then I interview the parties in turn. I start with the party who has initiated the divorce or the proceedings for custody. There’s no particular reason for that except that it’s an objective reason to start with that party, so it doesn’t give rise to any suspicion that I am starting out for or against either of them.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Then I interview the other party.’

  ‘Let me ask you this. Do you tell each party what the other has said to you?’

  ‘No. But I have to explain to them that the welfare of the children is the overriding consideration. So, while I will keep what they say confidential, as far as I can, and I certainly wouldn’t repeat what they say for no good reason, at the end of the day there is no privilege involved. I must include in my report anything I think the judge should know in the children’s best interests, which may mean telling the judge – and the other side – about things a party might prefer to keep quiet about.’