by Olly Jarvis
Jack wasn’t bothered by the insult. He’d heard far worse. ‘I ought to report you to the SRA.’
‘Report your own instructing solicitor?’ said Statham derisively. ‘You’d never work again.’
‘Let’s all just calm down, said Boswell, shuffling his bulbous frame between them. ‘Des was just doing his best by Gustaw.’
‘No,’ said Jack, still seething. ‘He breached his code of conduct, and it has seriously damaged our case. If I’d known that this might go in, I would never have applied to put in Lauren Riley’s character.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Statham, ‘Anyway, it never even went to trial.’
‘Hell of a coincidence though, don’t you think?’ Jack retorted, taking off his wig and throwing it onto the table. ‘Same MO.’ Jack turned his attention back to Nowak: ‘If there’s one thing juries don’t like, it’s coincidences. Ask your solicitor,’ he added with a wry smile.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Kowalski,’ said Nowak, seemingly realizing – at last – that he’d been putting his faith in the wrong lawyer.
Jack was softened by the apology. He couldn’t blame the client for Statham’s advice.
‘Sit down,’ Jack said, in a more conciliatory tone. ‘You’d better tell me about it. Who was she?’
‘A prostitute in Krakow. I didn’t know that at the time. I was, how do you say – set up. She wanted money after the sex. She said she would go to the police and say I raped her if I don’t pay one hundred thousand złoty.’
‘That’s about, what, twenty thousand pounds?’ said Jack.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re saying she blackmailed you?’ asked Statham.
‘Yes, but she didn’t realize that I had no money. Yes, I was footballer, but I had made nothing yet.’ Uncomfortable in his shirt, Nowak pulled at the collar. ‘If I’d had the money I would have paid her.’
‘So why was it dropped?’
‘I told police about the blackmail when they arrested me, so maybe they speak to her again and she admit it.’
‘Obviously that’s not in her witness statement,’ said Jack, thumbing through the pages. ‘Ok,’ he said, thinking through a strategy. ‘They want to call her to give evidence on the basis that it was similar to the current allegation.’
‘But it never went to trial,’ said Boswell.
‘Doesn’t matter. He’s not being tried for it now, it’s evidence of bad character, there’s a difference. The prosecution will ask “if the bondage was Lauren’s idea, how come you had sex in exactly the same way in Poland?” And to top it all off, that woman claimed rape, too.’
Nowak closed his eyes for a moment, the power of this evidence sinking in.
‘Whose idea was it to tie—’ Jack scanned the statement. ‘Veronika. Whose idea was it to tie Veronika up?’
‘Hers.’
‘And the prosecution will say, if that’s the case – bearing in mind what happened last time – if Lauren Riley asked you to tie her up, wouldn’t you have immediately smelt a rat?’
‘Smelt a rat?’
‘Sorry, realized this was a set up.’
Nowak got the point. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I do,’ said Boswell. ‘Like all blokes, he was thinking with his dick.’
‘I think that’s all we’ve got,’ Jack replied.
‘Things are looking very bad for me, yes?’
Jack could see his client falling apart. He had to be positive. ‘The evidence hasn’t gone in yet. There’s still legal argument. Let’s buy some time. Ask the prosecution why the case was dropped, any intel on her being a sex worker and any other convictions.’
Statham made a note.
‘Basically, keep making disclosure requests, chapter and verse on the whole investigation, even if it doesn’t turn anything up. If we do that, I can put the argument off until the end of the prosecution case.’
Statham agreed.
‘Get some lunch and be back for 2:15,’ he said, picking up his wig. ‘I need some air.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ demanded Statham. ‘Why did you allow those police witnesses to be read? You should’ve cross-examined them.’
‘What?’ Jack replied, incredulous.
‘I’m getting concerned that you’re not trying very hard to win this case. And if I was Gustaw, I’d want to know what’s happening here.’
Jack put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor, trying not to lose his temper. Then, composing himself: ‘Just how low are you prepared to go, Desmond?’
Statham feigned ignorance.
‘Having those witnesses give live evidence would only have amplified the jury’s sense of the complainant’s distress. Did you want them to recount her wrist injuries from the witness box? No, it would’ve been devastating – but you know that, don’t you?’
Confused, Nowak looked from one lawyer to the other.
‘You think this case is lost, so, instead of trying to turn things around, you’re already coming up with ways to blame it all on me.’ Jack shook his head. ‘You really are unbelievable. Like I said, see you at 2:15.’
Chapter 38
Gylda McVey QC marched along the concourse, flanked by a senior CPS lawyer. ‘I don’t get it, I thought she was totally behind this?’
‘So did I,’ said the solicitor. ‘I think it’s just nerves.’
McVey knocked on the door of the witness suite before going in. ‘Only me,’ she said, hiding her annoyance at the reluctance of her star witness. She’d been in this position more times than she could remember.
Lauren Riley was perched on the edge of a rectangular office-style sofa. Her head was in her hands. Her mother sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly.
McVey sat down next to her witness and pulled out some tissues. ‘Here,’ she said, holding one out.
Lauren raised her head, took the tissue and dabbed it around the edges of her puffy eyes. ‘Has my makeup run?’ she asked in a whimper.
‘Only a bit,’ McVey replied. ‘Nice suit,’ she said running a finger down the arm of the black two-piece.
‘It’s for funerals. Feels like mine today.’
‘Why?’ McVey asked. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong. You mustn’t worry about giving evidence, and remember, you’ve got anonymity.’
‘Anonymity?’ Lauren scoffed. ‘You been on Twitter lately?’
‘I know,’ said McVey. ‘But if you don’t go in the box today, Gustaw Nowak will walk out of here with a great big grin on his face, free to do what he did again, to someone else. Do you want that?’
Lauren was more concerned about her own fate: ‘Can you make me go in the box?’
‘No, I can’t,’ said McVey, ‘but the judge can. If you refuse to give your evidence, he could hold you in contempt and send you to prison.’
‘Yeah but what are the chances of him doin’ that to a rape victim?’
‘Lauren,’ asked the QC, ‘what’s this all about, love?’
Lauren’s mother sat up straight. ‘If you don’t tell her, I will,’
‘Mum!’
McVey stiffened. ‘I think you’d better tell me, don’t you?’
Lauren sighed. ‘They offered me thirty grand to say I made a mistake, that it wasn’t rape.’
‘What?’ said McVey, glancing over at the solicitor hovering by the door. ‘Who’s “they”?’
‘Dunno, some bloke stopped me in the street. Assumed it was one of his people, who else would it be?’
‘When was this?’
‘Couple of days ago.’
‘Did you accept it?’
She shook her head.
Outraged at the attempt to nobble her witness, McVey started pacing. ‘Right, we’re going to need to take a witness statement from you about exactly what happened, OK?’
‘S’pose so,’ Lauren replied sulkily, resigned to the fact that she would be going in the box. ‘I could’ve done plenty with thirty K, moved to London, put it down on a flat.’
‘But you wouldn’t have been tru
e to yourself. Believe me, it would’ve eaten away at you over time.’
Lauren looked at the QC dubiously.
Chapter 39
Dark clouds spat on Jack as he crossed Spinningfields. His walk turned into a jog, not to avoid the rain, but to get as far away from the court as possible. Why had he taken this case? Was Nowak a rapist after all?
Desperate for the familiar, he headed for his uncle’s restaurant.
Narrowly missing the downpour, Jack made it into the glass porch and caught his breath. Huntsman was in his usual corner booth.
‘Zupa?’ Marek called out, on seeing his nephew weaving his way around the tables.
‘Prose,’ Jack replied as he sat down opposite his old pupil-master, tomato sauce dribbled down the napkin tucked into his collar.
Seeing the strain in Jack’s face, Huntsman’s fork stopped in mid-air, ‘Tough morning?’
‘You could say that.’ Jack told Huntsman what had happened.
‘So what’s your problem?’ he said between mouthfuls.
‘What’s my problem?’ Jack replied, surprised at Huntsman’s lack of empathy.’ I can’t trust my solicitor, who’s totally bent, and my client is probably a rapist who’s done it before.’
Huntsman put his fork down on the empty plate, removed the napkin and wiped his mouth. ‘Welcome to the Criminal Bar. You’re talking like this is your first case. Remember what I taught you – look after your own integrity, because you can’t control anybody else’s.’
Huntsman put the napkin on the table, checked that Marek wasn’t looking, then took out an e-cigarette from his waistcoat pocket and inhaled. ‘Of course, Nowak might be a rapist – get over it. We’ve talked about this enough times. You’re not there to judge them, that’s for the jury. You’re there to do a job.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Look,’ said Huntsman, taking another drag then exhaling, ‘If we could tell who was or wasn’t guilty before the trial, we wouldn’t need juries. You’ve got to get rid of this crazy ideal of only defending the innocent ones. It doesn’t happen. It’s impossible, and you’d only put yourself out of work.’
‘I know, I know,’ Jack replied, seeing the sense in Huntsman’s advice. ‘I just wish I could get rid of this sick feeling, always being anxious, even when I’m not in court.’
‘You’ll never lose that, I’m afraid. It’s always there, even on holiday.’ Huntsman put the device back in his pocket. ‘Look on the bright side, it won’t last forever: the stress will probably kill you before you’re sixty.’
Jack managed a chuckle as Marek arrived with a bowl of zurek. ‘Eat, Janusz, eat. You need strength.’ He flicked a napkin from his arm up over his shoulder. Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he said to Huntsman: ‘You know, my nephew defend the great Gustaw Nowak.’
‘Of course I know, Marek, you should be very proud.’
‘Oh yes, me and his father,’ he said, putting a hand on Jack’s head and ruffling his hair.
‘Do you have to do that?’ said Jack, pushing him away, which only encouraged his uncle all the more.
Marek bent down and pinched Jack’s cheek. ‘Very proud, now eat.’ He picked up Huntsman’s plate. ‘We have fresh sernik, I bring now,’ he said, setting off for the kitchen. Then: ‘Janusz, look!’ he exclaimed, like an excited child. ‘It’s your beautiful friend, she come to see you.’
Lara Panassai was standing in the entrance, shaking the rain off her umbrella.
Jack watched her scan the tables. His heart began to beat faster.
Marek skipped over and escorted her to their table.
‘Everything OK?’ Jack asked, seeing her concern as he stood up to greet her.
‘Gary Dixon’s gone AWOL,’ she replied, sliding into the booth next to Huntsman.
‘Oh, great,’ replied Jack. ‘How do you know?’
‘Jammer texted me. Said he packed a bag and left.’
‘So he’s not actually in breach yet?’
‘Not until seven pm, when his tag goes off if he isn’t at Jammer’s.’
Marek was mesmerized by the exchange, looking from one lawyer to the other despite not understanding anything. ‘You want eat?’ he asked Lara as Jack considered her news.
‘No thanks, Marek, I can’t stop.’
‘Maybe piece of sernik, fresh, very nice?’
‘Cheesecake,’ Jack explained.
‘You twisted my arm, thank you, just a small slice,’ she replied, warmed by Marek’s hospitality. ‘Jack, I want to find him. If he’s tried in absence, he’ll be convicted in five minutes.’
‘Has it occurred to you that he might’ve done one because he murdered Arthur Ross?’
‘No, I refuse to believe that.’
‘Oh God,’ said Huntsman. ‘Not another lawyer who thinks her clients are innocent?’
Lara ignored the jibe. ‘He knew the police thought it was an accident, and so do I. Anyway, why would you kill a potential witness and then run away from the trial?’
‘OK, that does make sense,’ Jack conceded. ‘But maybe he just panicked about the assault, thought he’d be convicted?’
‘Maybe,’ replied Lara. ‘I just want to find him, talk him into coming back.’
‘How’re you going to do that?’
‘I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘He won’t have gone far. He’s never left Manchester. Will you help?’
How could Jack agree to that? He was in the middle of a trial, with his client’s examination-in-chief to prepare.
‘Well, will you?’ she asked again.
‘Of course I will.’ He could see Huntsman rolling his eyes.
Lara rewarded Jack with a smile that lit up her face. ‘Thank you. I’ve got a pre-trial review in Smart this afternoon. I can meet you outside Court at half four, then we can start by going to see Jammer.’
‘Sure,’ Jack replied.
‘Oh, I forgot to ask, how did your cross-examination of the complainant go?’
Marek arrived with two plates of sernik. Huntsman leaned in to smell the mixture of lemon and cheese.
Jack hoped she’d had forgotten her question.
‘Jack?’
She hadn’t. ‘It’s this afternoon.’
‘What?’ Lara said in alarm. ‘You’ve lost half a day. You’ll never be finished for Dixon on Thursday.’
‘We will, don’t worry,’ he replied, failing to convince even himself. ‘We’ve sworn the jury, had the opening and read some witnesses.’ Before Lara had time to question him further, he stood up. ‘Better get back, see you later.’
‘Janusz, you not have your soup?’ said Marek, following his nephew to the door.
‘It’s fine, I’m not hungry. Too nervous.’
Marek stopped him at the entrance. With a solemn expression he said: ‘Go and see your father.’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘His heart. Just go and see him, soon.’
‘I will.’
Jack dashed off into the rain. Holding his suit collar up around his neck, he did a hopscotch around the puddles.
Chapter 40
Jack was so nervous he couldn’t get his wing collar on the stud. He clenched his hands to stop them shaking, then tried again.
He could hear his heart beating as he stood in the lift, creaking its way down to the concourse. The doors opened to reveal the intimidating presence of Gylda McVey, glaring straight at him. She thrust a copy of Lauren’s new statement into his chest before he’d even had a chance to step out.
‘One of your lot tried to pay off my complainant.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jack replied, trying to take in the contents of the document. He read aloud: ‘Six foot, mid twenties, Manchester accent. That description doesn’t fit anyone on my team.’
Gylda scoffed. ‘They got someone else to do their dirty work, scumbags. Hope you’re getting well paid for this one, Jack. Won’t be pleasant for you – having to tear this girl apart.’
He opened his mouth to protest his clie
nt’s innocence, then closed it again. ‘I know,’ he said.
Then, to his surprise, she said softly: ‘Just watch yourself, Jack.’
He appreciated the advice, but he already knew couldn’t trust anyone on his team.
The advocates sized each other up for a moment. ‘Are you going to try and get this in?’ Jack asked, holding up the new statement.
‘How can I?’ McVey replied. ‘There’s no evidence to connect it to Nowak. Skart will say it’s just prejudicial and doesn’t assist the jury with whether or not he raped her.’
Fortunately for Nowak’s case, McVey was right – not that it made Jack feel any less sullied.
‘But I’ve handed a copy through to him, so expect a rocket,’ warned McVey.
‘Thanks for the heads up,’ Jack replied.
He found his client in a conference room, reading the statement with Statham and Boswell. ‘So you’ve seen it, then?’
Engrossed, Statham said: ‘The CPS just disclosed it.’
‘And?’
‘I know nothing about it.’
‘What about you?’ Jack asked Boswell.
‘As baffled as you are.’
Finally, to Nowak: ‘And you?’
‘I swear, I know nothing of this.’
‘Who else would have access to thirty grand, to make this go away?’
Nowak had no answer.
‘Who else would care enough?’
‘Not me,’ protested Nowak. ‘I told you, I know nothing about this.’
‘It could’ve just been some nut,’ said Boswell. ‘We don’t know he ever had thirty K. Could’ve been a crazy United fan, who knows?’
Jack rounded on the agent. ‘You’d better not be involved in this.’
Boswell lost his temper, for the first time. ‘Who are you to accuse me? And anyway, you’re working for us, you should remember that.’
There was nothing more Jack could do or say. He gave Nowak a long, hard stare, then went into court.
As Jack had expected, Skart’s first act was to make his outrage clear to the defence advocate, frustrated that he couldn’t take the matter further due to the lack of evidence connecting the offer to Nowak or his legal team. But Jack knew what everyone in the courtroom was thinking.