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

by Olly Jarvis

  ‘Very close to Elvis Boyle, isn’t he?’

  ‘Well, I know he has acted for him in the past.’ Finch and Jack were fencing now.

  ‘Marpit was giving that information to Walsh, wasn’t he? And then on to Spears. And Spears to you. Spears was just the buffer. So there was nothing to connect you to Marpit.’

  Otterwood got up to object.

  Finch was shaking his head.

  The judge exploded. ‘Mr Kowalski. I demand to know, right now, if you have any evidential foundation for that assertion.’

  Jack hadn’t, but he was getting warmer, on the verge. What was he missing?

  ‘I’ll take that as a no,’ barked Skart, still fuming. ‘Withdraw that comment or I will hold you in contempt. Do you understand me?’

  Lara was pulling at Jack’s gown. ‘Sit down. Please, Jack.’

  Then, a moment of great clarity. Jack reached inside his pocket and looked at the RIPA forms he’d been carrying around. He read them anew.

  Again, he began a new line of cross-examination. ‘Do you remember these forms, officer? They were disclosed to the defence during my first cross-examination of you?’

  Skart would not give way. ‘Mr Kowalski, for the last time…’

  Calmly, Jack replied, ‘My Lord, I have an evidential foundation. All will become clear.’

  Skart was silenced by Jack’s total self-belief.

  ‘Let’s have a look at Mr Spears’ form first, officer.’

  Otterwood’s junior rummaged manically through his papers for more copies, which on discovery, was handed up to the witness and the judge.

  ‘This document is a computer printout, isn’t it, officer?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Finch.

  ‘I think they are called reports? When a computer is asked to generate some information?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘There’s a date at the top left of the document, isn’t there? Fifteen zero-three hours, fifteenth September. Last week?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s the date you printed this off, isn’t it?’

  Finch wasn’t sure. ‘Well, it might be the date I actually logged on and created that report – to demonstrate Mr Spears’ status as a CHIS – after you cross-examined me.’

  ‘Well, I thought that too, officer,’ said Jack kindly. ‘But if we look at the bottom left-hand corner of the page there appears to be a tiny code. Do you see it?’

  ‘Er. Oh yes, I see it.’

  ‘I don’t know what all those numbers mean officer. Maybe computer-generated for some reason? But the last digits in that long sequence appear to be the time and date, do they not? 145915092015’. So you created the report at fourteen fifty-nine on the fifteenth September 2015 and printed it off four minutes later at fifteen zero-three?’

  ‘That must be right,’ agreed Finch.

  ‘Now that that’s clear, officer, let’s look at Mr Marpit’s printout.’

  Finch was thrown by the switch of exhibits.

  ‘Is there a copy for me?’ asked the judge, testily. ‘Mr Kowalski, don’t you think it would have been prudent to copy these documents before you came into court?’

  ‘I’m sorry, My Lord. I didn’t know I was going to ask the officer these questions until five minutes ago.’

  ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ muttered Skart. ‘This had better be good, Mr Kowalski, for your sake.’

  Paul Effiong obligingly passed Jack his copy, which was handed forward.

  Jack gave him a grateful nod.

  Once copies of the document had been distributed, Jack pressed on. ‘Officer, we can see the printout of the form on the same date – fifteenth September at fifteen ten. That makes sense doesn’t it? A few minutes after dealing with Mr Spears’ form?’

  Finch agreed. Things were moving too quickly for his liking. Where was the next attack coming from?

  ‘Just to be clear, officer, we’ve only got the printouts for Mr Spears and Mr Marpit because you didn’t check the status of any other defendant? No reason to?’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘Now let’s look at the code at the bottom which shows the date you logged on and created that report – to check Mr Marpit’s status – twenty-three fifteen thirteen zero-three twenty-fifteen.’

  It was beginning to dawn on Finch.

  ‘You see, officer. You logged on late at night – twenty-three fifteen hours on the thirteenth March, twenty-fifteen. That is when this document was generated. That’s the night of Marpit’s arrest, isn’t it?’

  ‘Er, yes.’

  ‘That’s when you must have logged on, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  Jack’s heart was pounding. ‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Why would you go on to your computer to see if Mr Marpit was an informant, the night of his arrest, unless he suggested it to you?’

  Silence smashed around the courtroom.

  ‘Er—’ Finch had no answer.

  ‘Mr Finch, you told this jury earlier in the trial that Carl Marpit never said anything that might give rise to a belief that he was an informant. You said you would have remembered it. You said that would be important.’

  Only the sound of journalists scribbling shorthand on to pads.

  At last. Jack had got him.

  ‘I can’t explain it.’

  ‘That’s no answer, officer. Think again.’

  Finch weighed up his options. Finally, ‘Well, he must have said something about being an informant then.’

  ‘Too right he must have! But you didn’t tell anyone? Or make a record of it?’

  Silence.

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You lied to this jury, officer?’

  Again, no response from Finch. Well and truly caught out.

  ‘Are you going to answer the question, officer?’ Jack wouldn’t let up.

  Skart stepped in. He had no choice. ‘Officer, before you answer that question, I am duty-bound to caution you, since you are being accused of perjury. You do not have to answer that question, since the answer may incriminate you. If you do answer, it could be used in evidence against you.’

  It wasn’t the route Finch wanted but he was out of options. ‘No comment.’

  Finch’s refusal to answer the question stunned the courtroom. Even Jim Smith had never seen anything like this before.

  Jack was totally focused on the task in hand. He needed more. ‘This was all orchestrated by Elvis Boyle, wasn’t it? To eliminate the competition. The District were dealing on his patch.’

  ‘No. No.’ Finch was becoming more agitated.

  ‘Was it all about money? Was Boyle paying you to do his dirty work?’

  ‘No!’ roared Finch, completely forgetting himself.

  ‘You are a corrupt NCA officer!’

  Otterwood stood up with a half-hearted objection. ‘My Lord, I must protest at that accusation…’

  Finch didn’t hear Otterwood’s rescue attempt. His head was somewhere else – locked into Jack’s questions. He’d had enough. Had to explain. This kid was making him look bent. ‘Who are you to question my methods?’ he shouted at Jack. ‘It’s got nothing to do with money. I love this city. It’s my job to protect it by whatever means I can. How dare you accuse me of corruption.’

  Jack pressed the same button – Finch’s ego – again, before he had time to recover. ‘If it wasn’t about money, what was it?’

  Without hesitation, Finch blurted out more. ‘To keep the streets safe. Drug-related crime in this city is as low as it’s been for years. That’s down to me. How do you think Boyle got so powerful?’

  Almost in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘I don’t know, Mr Finch. Tell us, please?’

  Realization was dawning on Finch that he’d said too much. There was no going back now. And besides, he desperately wanted ‒ needed ‒ everyone to know what he’d achieved for the people of Manchester. ‘I allowed Boyle exclusive control of Manchester. A free reign in exchang
e for order.’ Finch sneered at Jack. ‘There have been a lot of shootings in this city over the years, in case you hadn’t noticed. Gang warfare over drugs. Now there’s peace. In return for that exclusive control, Boyle gave us intelligence. The NCA get their arrests. Shootings are down. Everyone’s happy.’

  ‘Did you register Boyle as a CHIS?’

  ‘No. A man like Boyle won’t sign forms. He’s old school. Like me. It was more informal.’

  ‘Illegal, don’t you mean?’

  Finch shrugged.

  ‘So Acer Spears was just used to hide the true source of the information? To hide Boyle’s involvement. And because your information had to come from someone registered as a CHIS?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Now, officer, I’ve asked you this before. This time I want an answer. Clive Walsh. Where does he fit into all this?’

  ‘He’s Boyle’s man. Just like you said. Getting the info on The District from Marpit and giving it to Spears.’

  The chain was complete. Jack had all the links in place, from Marpit to Finch. Even Jack himself couldn’t quite take it in. ‘You allowed a gangster to control the drug dealing in this city?’

  ‘No. Don’t you see? I control it.’

  Jack paused to allow time for Finch’s warped ideology to filter through to the jury. But Jack wasn’t done. ‘So you knew that Marpit was the source all along. Even before his arrest?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You lied to this court on oath?’

  The judge started to caution the witness again.

  Nothing would stop Finch now. ‘I had to,’ he protested. ‘It was for the greater good. I couldn’t risk compromising Boyle – losing him as a source.’

  ‘And your job. You abused your power!’

  ‘Who are you to judge me?’ replied Finch with contempt for his interrogator. ‘You’ve only been in the job five minutes!’

  ‘And you’ve been in the job too long, officer,’ replied Jack, looking away from the witness. ‘My Lord, clearly I will be renewing my abuse-of-process application.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting one question, Mr Kowalski?’ This judge didn’t miss a trick.

  Yes. There was one last answer Jack needed to win the case. Not knowing the answer, he’d avoided it. He asked it now. ‘Mr Finch…’

  ‘It’s Officer Finch,’ came the reply.

  ‘If you say so. Carl Marpit was in fact a participating informant ‒ working ultimately for the NCA? Just not formally registered?’

  Finch answered emphatically. ‘No. He was not. He had no idea the NCA were receiving the intelligence. He was doing it for the money. Rival gangs pay top dollar for this kind of information.’

  All Jack could put to try and deal with this accusation was: ‘You weren’t there at the meetings between Walsh and Marpit, were you?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘So you don’t know what he could have told Marpit? For all you know, Marpit believed Walsh to be from the NCA?’

  Finch scoffed. ‘The NCA pay informants a few hundred quid here and there. All the snouts know that. The way I heard it, Marpit was being paid thousands for the information. Even put his daughter in rehab. He knew Walsh wasn’t from the NCA.’

  Jack had no way of undermining that critical assertion. He’d finally hit a brick wall.

  ‘Have you finished with the witness, Mr Kowalski?’ The judge was doing his best to rescue the situation for the prosecution.

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  Effiong puffed out his cheeks and then grinned appreciatively at Jack who had collapsed back on to the bench, exhausted. Bingham had no questions. There was nothing Katterman dared ask, either. Only a cheap comment: ‘No questions, My Lord. I think we are all now clear on what sort of a man Carl Marpit is.’

  ‘Mr Otterwood?’ asked the judge, his customary politeness towards the prosecution now absent.

  Otterwood had no re-examination. He whispered to his junior, Aston, ‘Wouldn’t touch him with a bargepole, now.’

  ‘I have one or two questions,’ said the judge. ‘Why did you go on the computer, the night of Mr Marpit’s arrest? Why check his status if you already knew he wasn’t a CHIS?’

  ‘My Lord. I just had to make sure he wasn’t registered with another officer, as an informant or even a participating informant. And, as you know, he wasn’t.’

  ‘So do you accept the information that led to the arrests of those in operation Lion’s Paw ultimately came from Marpit?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘But he had no idea the NCA was involved?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Who did know that this information was bound for the NCA?’

  ‘Boyle, Spears obviously, and Boyle’s solicitor, Clive Walsh.’

  ‘Did you instigate the targeting of Marpit in any way – by Boyle’s organization?’

  ‘No, My Lord. Spears came to me.’

  ‘So why do you think Mr Marpit gave the impression that he might be working for the NCA?’

  ‘I can’t answer that, My Lord. I don’t know. Really, I don’t.’

  ‘Also, I can’t understand why a Venezuelan drug cartel would use a London gang to distribute in the northwest?’

  Finch half-smiled. ‘The District bullshitted them that they ran the UK. That Manchester was their territory. The South Americans didn’t know any better. That was why it all went wrong, I suppose.’

  ‘You may step down. Oh, and officer: has it occurred to you how this will reflect on all the hard-working law-enforcement agents who risk their lives every day in this city?’

  Finch merely shrugged.

  Skart shook his head, appalled at Finch’s conduct. ‘Mr Otterwood, I trust you will make the necessary arrangements? A full investigation?’

  ‘It’s in hand, My Lord, beginning with Mr Finch’s arrest for perjury and potentially other offences.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Otterwood.’ The judge turned to face the jury. ‘Have a ten-minute break, I’m sure you need it!’

  Finch stared across at the young barrister who had ruined him, as two police officers escorted him out. ‘You cocky little shit!’

  Mr Kowalski didn’t bother to look up.

  Chapter 70

  Once the jury had left court, Jack leapt to his feet. ‘My Lord, in light of the evidence we’ve just heard, I wish to renew my application to stay the indictment as an abuse of process.’

  ‘Well, don’t get too excited, Mr Kowalski. The evidence now is that Marpit was conspiring to import cocaine and that he wasn’t a participating informant. And Finch says that Marpit had no idea that the NCA were receiving the information.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Hold on, Mr Kowalski. And crucially, on the evidence we’ve heard, Marpit’s criminality was not instigated by the NCA. Where is the abuse?’

  ‘But Finch is a proven liar, My Lord. The defendant might have believed Walsh to be an authorized the NCA handler. That would provide Mr Marpit with a defence.’

  ‘That may be, Mr Kowalski, but you now rely on the truth of what Finch now says. The position would be very different if you were able to call evidence to contradict Officer Finch’s assertions about Marpit’s state of mind. Say from Mr Marpit himself?’

  Jack could not accept Skart’s analysis. ‘My Lord, this man – representing a government agency – cannot be allowed to conduct an investigation in this way. He’s acting outside the law!’

  ‘I may agree, Mr Kowalski. But as the evidence stands, Finch’s actions do not exonerate the defendant. I’m against you. Once the jury are brought back into court, Mr Kowalski, will you be closing your case?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord,’ he replied. ‘I will.’

  ‘Thank you. Usher, please bring the jury back in.’

  Jack sat down and turned to commiserate with Lara. Her seat was empty. Had she missed it all? Typical, he thought.

  Skart acknowledged the jury and then addressed the young advocate. ‘Mr Kowalski?’

  Jack stood up, abou
t to close his case, when the usher passed him a note. It read: ‘Outside with Marpit! Wants to give evidence.’

  Jack’s heart missed a beat. Was he going to faint? He could feel the blood rushing to his head. ‘My Lord. Mr Marpit would like to surrender to custody.’

  Jack had never heard noise like this in open court.

  ‘Quiet!’ demanded the judge. ‘Quiet! Where is he?’

  ‘Just outside, My Lord.

  ‘Bring him in.’

  Moments later, a dishevelled and petrified Marpit walked through the door, followed by Lara and the usher. A prison officer opened the door to the dock.

  Humphrey Bingham, QC, looked in complete despair. He knew what Marpit’s arrival meant for his case.

  Mr Justice Skart addressed the jury. ‘Members of the jury, it will take a few moments to process him. Please go to your room. I promise I will not keep you there for long. Gentlemen, I will rise for ten minutes.’

  ‘All rise!’

  Chapter 71

  Jack headed straight to the cells. There was no time to waste. Lara had difficulty keeping up.

  ‘What’s he said?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Fuck all, so far.’

  A prison officer showed them into an empty room to wait for Marpit, who was still being searched.

  Marpit was soon escorted into the room and his handcuffs were removed. His sheepish expression revealed that he expected a mouthful from his lawyers. ‘Before you say it, I’m sorry I buggered off. I must’ve made you look well stupid. And all the while you’ve been fightin’ my corner,’ he added, with sincerity.

  Jack hadn’t time for this. ‘Look, Carl. There’s no need for apologies. We’re not your friends. We’re your lawyers. What’s done is done. We have a job to do. We just want you to have the chance to put your side before the jury, so that they can reach a verdict on all of the evidence.’

  ‘Well, I still appreciate it.’

  ‘Carl,’ asked Jack, ‘are you going to tell them everything?’

  ‘I dunno know what to do. Melanie’s ’ere, int she?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Lara. ‘And she’s given evidence. Took real guts that. You going to do the same?’

  ‘That’s my Mel. She said we had to come back. Face the music. But what about Rako and Purley? The District are after me.’