Cut-Throat Defence: The dramatic, twist-filled legal thriller

by Olly Jarvis

  Jack was shocked at her suggestion, but there was little point trying to talk her out of it. She was on her way out of chambers.

  They started to head back through the city. A fast walk turned into a jog.

  By the time they arrived they were running. They raced up the staircase and were outside the door of 211, preparing themselves for the unknown. Lara knocked and called, ‘Housekeeping – would you like your bed turning down?’

  No reply. Lara swiped the key and slowly pushed the door open. Nobody. She moved to the internal door, knocked, and called out to Marpit.

  The wait was unbearable.

  Eventually, he unlocked the door, let them in then re-locked it. He was shaking.

  ‘Who was it?’ whispered Marpit, wide-eyed.

  ‘They’d already gone by the time we got here,’ said Lara.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Jack. ‘First of all, maybe it was just the cleaner?’

  ‘No,’ said Marpit firmly. ‘Nobody called out before comin’ in. I could hear them in there rummagin’ around. I am sure there was more than one. I could hear talking.’

  ‘OK,’ said Jack, doing his best to calm Marpit. ‘The first question is how could they have known you were here?’

  ‘Easy,’ said Marpit. ‘They followed you.’

  Lara replied, ‘Carl, anything is possible, but the route we took, I would be amazed if we were followed. We didn’t see anyone and we were so careful.’

  ‘Your phone!’ exclaimed Jack in a moment of realization. ‘They cell-sited your phone when you rang Finch. They could’ve easily narrowed it down to this hotel because there are so many different masts in the city centre. Then they probably accessed the hotel computer.’

  Jack was beginning to see the case from a wider angle, the implications of Marpit’s case for all the various parties. ‘I don’t think NCA are out to get you. They were just snooping. That’s what they do. They’re probably happy now they think they know where you are. Maybe they planted a listening device in the room. At the end of the day, they need you in this trial.’

  It had dawned on Jack that the claim that Marpit was a participating informant would suit NCA and the prosecution. The case against Rako and Purley was weak. Marpit’s testimony would be the only direct evidence of their involvement in drug dealing. Jack shared these thoughts with Lara and the defendant. ‘And now we know they are unaware of this room.’

  Marpit calmed down a little, which was a relief to Jack, concerned that he might abscond, which would not only add to his difficulties in defending the case, but make him a laughing stock. ‘If there is a device in 211, it needs to sound as if there’s someone in there. I need to keep an eye on you, so I’ll move into 211. No one will try anything with me around. It would be too dangerous. OK?’ Jack felt absurd. He sounded exactly like his mother had done, as she sat with him in the night when, as a little boy, he couldn’t sleep.

  Marpit seemed reassured.

  Lara made it plain that Jack should not put himself in any danger.

  Jack enjoyed her concern. ‘I took an oath to defend every case without fear or favour. I suppose this is an example of that,’ he said, trying to make light of the risks. He’d surprised himself with his commitment to the case, and to the defendant. Jack gave Lara the key to his bedsit so that she could get some of his stuff and bring it back to the hotel. He had to forgo his concerns about Lara seeing his drab accommodation – he didn’t want Marpit left alone. His client had been too unnerved by the intruders. The risk of flight was too great.

  Chapter 26

  Lara turned the key in the lock and walked into Jack’s bedsit. She’d meant to just grab some clothes but found herself hungrily taking everything in. She’d promised herself not to snoop but couldn’t help it, running a finger over his books and then the family photographs on the shelves. So personal – a life.

  What was it that drew her to Jack? Intrigued her? His personality seemed so paradoxical. One minute he was insecure and hopeless, then in a moment he could be brilliant. She did find him attractive, but this wasn’t what fascinated her.

  Perhaps he reminded her of Dad, as a young barrister, not that she remembered him well.

  Lara sat on his bed. She wanted to weep with loneliness. She chastised herself for being weak and quickly composed herself. She was, after all, a survivor.

  Her phone rang. It was him – Matthew. She pressed divert.

  * * *

  By the time Lara got back to the hotel room it was late. Jack was in with Marpit scribbling on a piece of hotel stationery. He was relieved to see she’d remembered his laptop. She had three new pay-as-you-go mobiles. She was not going to make the same mistake again. They stored each other’s numbers in their contacts using false names.

  Jack took out his laptop, set up the portable printer and started typing.

  ‘We are just doing the defence statement, Lara,’ he said, sounding unusually organized. ‘It’s out of time, but so what. We need to actually set out our defence for the prosecution.’

  He was becoming completely immersed in the case. ‘If nothing else, it will focus minds on any further disclosure, particularly if we set out everything we know about Wolfy and his mobile number.’

  He printed off the final version, which he asked Marpit to read and sign.

  Lara was not optimistic about any meaningful disclosure. ‘Of course you know they’ll say these requests are being made so late they won’t have time to investigate.’

  Jack knew she was right. The prosecution could hardly be blamed if they only got the request days before the trial started.

  But they decided that they had nothing to lose by serving it. Jack emailed a copy to Otterwood.

  He stood up wearily. ‘I’ve got to get some sleep.’

  Chapter 27

  Sunday. Jack’s eyes were bloodshot from more hours of reading the brief on his laptop. He rubbed them to try and stay awake. He’d hoped another full day on the papers might bring some revelation. But he’d found nothing that suggested Marpit was working for the NCA.

  He stood up, stretched, then walked across to the adjoining door and listened. Nothing. It had been a while since he’d heard the reassuring sound of Marpit pacing up and down next door.

  Jack knocked.

  No answer.

  After a while the door opened.

  Marpit was already walking back over to the window. He seemed preoccupied. Listless.

  ‘Are you OK, Carl?’ asked Jack.

  Marpit continued to stare out of the window. It was a while before he spoke. ‘I like the simple life. Know what I mean?’ He glanced at Jack briefly. ‘Cabbing. A bit of telly and a takeaway on a Saturday night. You don’t miss it till it’s gone.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Maybe you can go back to that when all this is over?’

  Marpit didn’t look at Jack this time, but answered, ‘We both know that ain’t gonna ’appen.’

  Jack wanted to reassure Marpit but decided not to insult his intelligence.

  His client was deep in thought. ‘I miss my Mel. My little Mel.’ His voice trailed off.

  ‘Good night, Carl,’ said Jack. ‘Try and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  Carl didn’t hear him.

  Chapter 28

  Jack woke with a start. He sat bolt upright. Someone was knocking on the door of his room.

  ‘Who is it?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘It’s me, Lara.’

  He got out of bed and staggered to the door, still half asleep, wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts. He opened the door, bleary-eyed.

  Lara was concerned. ‘You do know you’re in court in less than an hour?’

  Jack checked his watch, disorientated. ‘I was up late working on the case.’ He gathered his thoughts. ‘Marpit?’ he asked.

  Lara walked across the room and knocked on the door. Marpit opened it, nervous but dressed and ready.

  Jack said in a panic, ‘You stay with Carl. I’ve got to go home and get dressed f
or court. I’ll see you there.’ He pulled on a trouser leg as Lara and Carl watched him hopping around the room. Once he had his shoes on, he grabbed his laptop and shot out the door.

  Lara turned to Carl, and said, unconvincingly, ‘Don’t worry, juries love him.’

  Chapter 29

  Jack nicked himself with the razor. ‘Just calm down,’ he said to himself in the mirror. About to go to court and defend in the biggest drugs importation the UK had ever known – he couldn’t believe what was happening. Suddenly it was the first day of trial. How would he be able to hide his fear from the defendant? From everyone? It was all going to go terribly wrong. He’d never live it down. Maybe it wasn’t too late to withdraw? Was there a way out? He tried to take a deep breath. Was he having a panic attack?

  The new mobile phone rang. It was Lara. He tried to pull himself together before answering it. ‘Hi, Lara.’

  ‘It’s Carl, he’s freaking out. He says some of Purley’s people have been asking around in London, about Melanie. They’re after her. Says it’s because he’s running this defence. He wants to find her.’

  ‘Keep him there, I’ll be five minutes.’

  ‘Hurry!’

  * * *

  ‘Just stop and think for a minute.’ Lara was doing her best. ‘You’re not thinking clearly. It’s the fear.’

  Marpit couldn’t stand still. ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry.’ He picked up his paltry bag of belongings and reached for the door.

  Lara gave it one last try, putting a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t go, Carl. Think about Melanie, please. If you keep running, she’ll have to as well.’

  Her words had hit a nerve. He reflected, but only for a moment.

  By the time Jack got to the hotel, Lara was standing on the steps outside. ‘He’s gone. Minutes ago. Just ran off.’

  ‘Phone him.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, holding up the phone she’d given him. ‘He’s dumped it.’

  ‘OK, let’s not panic. Where would he go?’ said Jack, trying to sound calm. ‘He must be planning to go to London. Airport?’

  ‘No ID,’ she replied urgently. ‘Bus station? No – not frequent enough.’

  ‘Piccadilly train station? The only direct trains go from there,’ said Jack.

  They set off.

  ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘It’s too obvious. Let’s go to Victoria. He could get a train to Leeds, then change for London. He thinks we’ll go to Piccadilly.’

  They set off again, this time in the opposite direction.

  Manchester Victoria was heaving ‒ rush hour. They checked the departures screen. A train was leaving for Leeds in one minute. They reached the platform just as the guard was blowing his whistle. The doors were closed. They could see through the windows at the passengers. No sign of Marpit. They started to run alongside the carriages as the train slowly pulled out of the station, desperately peering in.

  ‘There!’ shouted Lara.

  Marpit watched them passively as they banged on the window. ‘Don’t do this, Carl,’ shouted Lara.

  Carl mouthed back, ‘Sorry.’

  As the train picked up speed, Jack and Lara stood watching it disappear from view.

  Now they had no client.

  Chapter 30

  The photographers were hanging about in small groups outside the court building. Jack was dreading having to tell the judge that his client had absconded; it reflected on Jack. As for the judge, he would inevitably receive some negative press coverage. Jack could imagine the headline – ‘Soft Judge Lets Drug Dealer Go Free’. This all added to his nerves, but there was a more pressing and fundamental question – should he withdraw from the case?

  He had a signed defence statement and sufficient instructions to cross-examine the NCA officers about Marpit’s status and then to make a legal argument. As far as the Bar Standards Board was concerned, he couldn’t be criticized whether he remained or withdrew ‒ it was entirely a matter for his professional judgement. In truth, it was a way out.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, Jack,’ said Lara as she emptied her pockets to go through the metal detector. ‘Well, don’t. You’re not withdrawing.’

  Someone had caught Jack’s eye. ‘I’ll have to catch you up, Lara.’

  * * *

  ‘Tata, what are you doing here?’ Jack took his father’s arm and pulled him away from the main entrance.

  ‘I worry. Maybe you too busy. No eat?’ He held up a Tupperware box. ‘Sandwich and kielbasa.’

  Jack looked around nervously, then accepted the gift. ‘Thanks, Tata. But please don’t do this again. What would my colleagues think if they saw my father bringing me a packed lunch? Or the jury!’

  ‘OK, OK. I go now.’ He hugged his son. ‘Your mother—’

  ‘I know, Tata. She would have been very proud.’ Jack smiled. ‘There’s a problem, I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Good luck, my son. Good luck.’

  The robing room was empty. No doubt everyone was in the advocates’ canteen, discussing final matters that needed resolving before swearing the jury. Jack hid his lunch box, got dressed and walked through to the canteen.

  ‘Ah, Kowalski my boy,’ bellowed Katterman in a patronizing tone. ‘We’ve missed you.’

  He pulled up a chair at the table where all counsel in the trial were having coffee. Otterwood gestured to his junior, Rupert Aston, who slid a cup across to Jack, picked up the large silver pot and poured the coffee.

  Little things like that meant a lot to Jack in a world where he rarely felt he belonged.

  ‘Well, young Kowalski, what’s your strategy?’ teased Katterman.

  Jack couldn’t put it off any longer. ‘Marpit did a runner this morning. His head’s gone. Worried about threats to his family.’ Jack couldn’t help but try to mitigate Marpit’s actions.

  Instead of a barrage of abuse and humiliating comments, there was silence. These advocates were the cream of the English Bar. Their first priority was their clients. They weren’t interested in Jack, only the implications for their cases.

  Humphrey Bingham, QC, who had come up from London to defend Rako, was the first to pitch in. ‘Never mind, old chap. Lets you off the hook though. Every cloud and all that.’

  Katterman, catching on, quickly followed up with, ‘It has to be said you weren’t in the case long, but you did get him bail. Well done, old boy.’

  Jack could see that they were trying to bounce him. With Jack out of the case, there would be no cross-examination on the issue of participating informants, and hence no suggestion by a defence barrister that their clients were guilty. The jury would never even get a sniff of it.

  ‘Just hang on a moment,’ said Otterwood. ‘It’s a matter for Kowalski. He may take the view that he has sufficient instructions to remain.’

  Katterman scoffed, ‘You would say that, John.’

  Katterman and Bingham continued in what Jack thought was mock outrage at the suggestion of him remaining, but he couldn’t be sure. Jack’s problem was that being a good barrister was all about judgement, which came with experience. Jack had none to draw on. His head was telling him to withdraw. His guts were definitely agreeing, but his heart was telling him that it didn’t feel right to just walk away. He couldn’t help but wonder how Lara would feel if he did withdraw.

  ‘It only happened an hour ago. I’m going to need a little bit of time to consider this. I’ll ask the judge for time.’

  ‘Absolutely. You take your time, old chap. It is a big decision,’ said Otterwood.

  The tannoy crackled out an announcement, ‘Would all parties in the case of Rako, Purley and Marpit please go to Court One.’

  Chapter 31

  The shuffling of papers, whispering in the gallery and press interest were always greatest at the beginning and the end of a trial. The excitement was compounded by the fact that Rako and Purley had been brought up from the cells, but were not joined in the dock by Marpit.

  ‘All rise!’

  As His Lordship came
into court he glanced across at the dock. He had made a critical error of judgement in granting bail.

  Jack rose to his feet.

  ‘Yes, Mr Kowalski?’ said the judge with weary resignation.

  ‘My Lord, it is with regret that I must inform the court that the defendant whom I represent, Carl Marpit, has failed to attend this morning.’

  His Lordship glowered at Jack, clearly angry.

  Otterwood wasted no time, ‘My Lord, I apply for a warrant for his arrest, not backed for bail.’

  ‘Granted. Now, Mr Kowalski, it was made abundantly clear, in the presence of the defendant, that should he choose to absent himself he would be tried in his absence. Do you have anything to say about that?’

  Jack had made this concession on Friday in order to get bail. He wasn’t going to get the trial vacated now.

  ‘I don’t think I have, My Lord.’

  The judge agreed.

  ‘I would, however, ask for twenty-four hours before my learned friend opens the case to the jury. This would give both sides a little time, however unlikely, to find Mr Marpit. It would also allow further consideration by all parties of Mr Marpit’s defence statement.’ Jack handed a copy forward to the usher who took it up to the judge. His Lordship placed it on a pile of papers without so much as a glance at it.

  ‘My Lord, it would also give me time to consider my position.’

  His Lordship reflected for a moment.

  ‘Mr Otterwood?’

  ‘It does seem the most sensible course, My Lord, with respect. I know my officers would like at least the chance to locate the defendant, before Mr Kowalski makes any hasty decisions.’ He could sense Jack was on the brink of withdrawing. ‘We can always use the time today to identify the jury panel and even swear the jury.’

  ‘Yes, very well.’ The judge liked the idea of no time being lost. ‘Bring in the jury panel.’

  While the potential jurors were ushered into court, Jack swivelled round to face Lara, who was on the bench behind his. He gave her a tentative smile. She returned a steely stare. She wasn’t going to be a shoulder to cry on if he withdrew.