by Peter Murphy
6. Do you have any religious or other belief that would make it difficult for you to judge a case fairly and impartially if the case involves astrology?
Yes, I certainly do. I am a Bible-believing Christian, and I believe the word of my Lord and God, which says that fortune-tellers, witches and the like shall have no place in the Kingdom of Heaven but shall be cast into eternal darkness.
‘She’s complaining that she was excluded from the jury panel in the case you’ve just started on the ground of her religious beliefs,’ Meredith adds.
‘She’s absolutely right,’ I confirm. ‘She was.’
‘But you can’t…’
‘Meredith, did she happen to tell you what the case is about?’ I interrupt.
They look at each other, rather shiftily, it seems to me.
‘Jack dealt with her, I believe,’ Jeremy replies after a pause. Both he and Meredith look in Jack’s direction. He makes a momentary effort to adjust his tie, but it’s knotted far too tight for that. It’s hanging below his collar, and it’s not going to move from that position; I’d take odds that he will have to cut it off when he gets home.
‘She said it was something to do with her religion,’ he replies nervously, ‘but she didn’t say what it was about, exactly.’
‘Allow me to enlighten you,’ I say. ‘The defendant, a man called Gerard Busby, is charged with fraud, the allegation being that he is, or at least claims to be, a professional astrologer; and that he predicted, wrongly as it turns out, that a female client would get the job of her dreams in Paris.’
Jeremy and Meredith exchange glances.
‘Sounds like a rather strange case to find its way to the Crown Court,’ Jeremy observes.
‘My current view,’ I reply, ‘is that, if anything, it’s a civil case that belongs in the County Court, but because the alleged victim went to the police instead of her solicitor, we’re stuck with it here. Actually, I’m not sure it doesn’t belong in the Astrologers’ Professional Conduct Panel, if there is such a thing.’
I pause. That is exactly what I think. So far, it seems to me that Gerard Busby may have a somewhat unusual profession, but quite how Susan proposes to translate the events Edith Hunter has related into fraud and dishonesty on his part is eluding me at the moment. But it’s early days, I suppose. So –
‘Of course, that view may change as the evidence develops,’ I add.
‘I see,’ Jeremy says.
‘This is how she answered a few questions we put to the panel,’ I say. ‘Perhaps you’d like to look at it?’ I hand the response to Meredith, and all three of them have a good look.
‘I felt that her ability to judge the case fairly and dispassionately might be in question,’ I add. ‘I have two very experienced counsel in the case, both of whom agreed with me. Under the fraud sentencing guideline, being cast into eternal darkness is a bit on the stiff side for a first offence.’
There is silence for some time.
‘She really wanted to serve on a jury,’ Meredith ventures without much conviction. ‘I understand that.’
‘She is serving on a jury, Meredith,’ Stella replies. ‘She’s in Judge Dunblane’s court, a GBH committed during a pub brawl. Don’t worry about her. I’m sure she’ll find lots of things to disapprove of in that case, too.’
Sir Jeremy nods. ‘We’ll write to her and tell her that we’re satisfied with the court’s decision,’ he says.
‘How very kind,’ I reply.
‘But it would probably be a good idea for you to send me a formal written report, Charles – just in case she decides to take it further, you know.’
‘Of course,’ I reply.
‘There is one other thing,’ he adds. He reaches out his hand to Meredith, who digs into her briefcase and hands him a copy of the Standard. ‘This is hot off the press. We noticed it on the way over here. You probably haven’t had a chance to see it, but we felt you should – in case you want to say anything to your jury, you know.’
Stella leans over my shoulder so that we can both read it.
‘Is this the Trial written in the Stars?’ the headline reads. ‘Astrologers compete to Predict Verdict in Fraud Case.’ It goes on to record the views of six ‘leading astrologers’, each of whom has obligingly forecast the result of my trial at the close of the first day, without having heard a single word of the evidence. They are going for a not guilty, by a majority of four to two. I shake my head.
‘Thank you, Jeremy,’ I say. ‘Absolutely right. I will have to say something. What on earth are they doing over there at the Standard? I’ve a good mind to report the editor to the Attorney General for contempt of court.’
‘I would advise some reflection about that, Charles,’ he replies. ‘There could be complications: you know how these things are. Let me speak to the Minister and ask him to have a quiet word with the editor. They’re old friends. That should do the trick.’
* * *
Tuesday morning
I discuss yesterday’s press coverage with Susan and Aubrey before bringing the jury down to court. With George’s help, flicking rapidly through the papers on his stall, I think I’ve established that the likelihood of any real damage is confined to the Standard. Today’s dailies mention the case, but in a strictly factual way; and between us the Reverend Mrs Walden and I covered the TV news channels yesterday evening. To my relief, both Susan and Aubrey agree – they haven’t found anything else similar to the Standard’s prediction of the verdict exercise. I allow them every chance to ask me to discharge the jury and start again with a new one in a couple of weeks’ time, by which time the present intake of jurors will have departed and will no longer be able to gossip about the case in the jury room. Neither does. I can’t say I’m surprised. Susan undoubtedly knows that her case isn’t going to improve at the second time of telling. It may even be that by now she’s wishing that the CPS had left it to the Astrologers’ Professional Conduct Panel. Aubrey must be feeling that his cross-examination of Edith Hunter went as well as he could expect, and he may be contemplating asking me to withdraw the case from the jury once the prosecution closes its case, so a new trial may be the last thing he wants. We settle for my directing the jury to disregard whatever they may come across in the media.
‘Members of the jury, you may have seen a report of this case in yesterday evening’s Standard,’ I begin, ‘in which a number of persons claiming to be astrologers presented what they claim to be their predictions about the outcome of this trial – in other words, they are claiming to know what verdict you will return. Now, unlike you, not one of these self-proclaimed astrologers has heard a word of the evidence, so it’s hardly surprising that they are not even unanimous about it.’
Several members of the jury are looking at me in such a way as to suggest that, not only did they read the Standard, but they also disapprove of anyone, astrologers or otherwise, telling them what their verdict should be. It’s what I’d expected from a Bermondsey jury; it’s a good sign, and I press on.
‘Members of the jury, let me repeat what I said just after you were sworn in to try this case. It is your job, and yours alone, to return a verdict. The fact of the matter is that at this early stage of the trial, no one – not even you – knows what the verdict will be. Do your best to avoid coming into contact with media reports of the trial. Remember that you know far more about this case than anyone in the media, so please disregard anything you may see or hear. Remember the oath you took when we swore you in – to return a true verdict in accordance with the evidence. Don’t let any outside influences interfere with your consideration of the evidence. The evidence is all that matters.’
The jury seem to react very positively to this, and I assume that we are now ready to proceed with the evidence. But Aubrey has a surprise up his sleeve.
‘Your Honour,’ he begins, ‘I’m very grateful to your Honour for his very c
lear direction to the jury. But as an astrologer himself, Mr Busby is extremely concerned that others in his profession may be making use of their skills to try to influence the jury – to influence the outcome of the case.’
For a moment I feel some annoyance. Aubrey’s already told me that he’s not asking for the jury to be discharged, and I’ve already told him that I’m not referring the article to the Attorney General, so there’s no reason for bringing it up again with the jury present. But Aubrey’s capacity to amaze me knows few bounds and I certainly wasn’t prepared for what comes next.
‘Accordingly, your Honour, Mr Busby has prepared his own prediction of the outcome of the trial.’
Susan is on her feet immediately. ‘Oh, really, your Honour…’
Aubrey holds up a hand containing a small brown envelope. ‘If my learned friend would allow me to finish… Your Honour, Mr Busby does not propose to reveal his prediction. I have not seen it; and as far as I know, no one has seen it apart from Mr Busby himself; it is contained in this envelope, and Mr Busby has no intention of making it known until the trial has been concluded. He would like to entrust the envelope to the court, so that everyone knows that it is secure until then.’
‘What on earth is the point of that?’ I ask, to vigorous concurring nods of the head from Susan.
‘Your Honour, Mr Busby’s reputation as a professional astrologer has been impugned in this case. He has been accused of fraud and chicanery. He wishes to point out that the true charlatans are those who publish predictions in the press and so court publicity for themselves at inappropriate times. He instructs me that, professionally, an astrologer may always announce that he has predicted the outcome of some event of interest to the public; but the only ethical way to do that is to keep the prediction under seal until such time as the outcome is known: to do otherwise risks influencing the outcome by improper means, and Mr Busby wishes the jury to understand that he is a professional astrologer to whom professional ethics are important.’
As court clerk, Carol is looking to me for guidance about whether to accept the envelope on the court’s behalf. I think for a few seconds.
‘Yes, very well, then,’ I reply. ‘The court will take custody of the envelope. It will not, of course, become an exhibit. I rule that it is not to be opened, or its contents examined, until the trial has ended and the court has approved that course.’
Carol nods to Dawn, who duly takes possession of Mr Busby’s as yet unknown prediction of his own fate. Susan is fuming silently, but I can’t see any harm in it. If Aubrey had applied to me to discharge the jury I would probably have done it, and I’m not averse to giving something back to him for his forbearance.
DC Lawrence Trent, a distinguished-looking young officer in a very sharp dark grey suit, takes the oath and tells Susan that he is the officer in the case.
‘By which you mean that you are the officer in overall charge of the investigation and handling of the case?’
‘Yes, Miss. It’s my job to look for evidence, to interview witnesses, then to preserve the evidence, consult with the CPS about the charges and disclosure of the evidence, and to stand ready to assist the court about all aspects of the investigation.’
‘Yes, thank you. Officer, did your association with this case begin when Edith Hunter came to the police station to make a complaint against Mr Busby?’
‘Yes, Miss.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I took a statement from Mrs Hunter, after which I consulted with the CPS.’
‘Is that usual?’
‘No. It’s a bit early to get the CPS involved in an investigation, but to be perfectly honest I felt a bit out of my depth with this case. I’d never come across anything like it before.’
‘I know exactly how you feel,’ Susan says. ‘What did the CPS have to say about it?’
‘They pointed out a few possible charges, and sketched out the kind of evidence I should be looking for, and they advised me to interview Mr Busby and see what he had to say about it.’
‘And did you do that?’
‘Yes, Miss. I went to Mr Busby’s office in Kennington in company with another officer, DC Morgan. I introduced myself to Mr Busby and told him about the complaint made by Mrs Hunter. I asked Mr Busby if he would accompany me voluntarily to the police station for an interview. He agreed immediately, and telephoned his solicitor, asking her to meet us at the station. He agreed to my taking possession of a number of documents pertaining to his work with Mrs Hunter, and his computer. Later that same day, with DC Morgan, I interviewed Mr Busby in the presence of his solicitor, Miss Glasgow.’
‘Yes. Just before we come to the interview, was Mr Busby’s computer interrogated, and apart from the charts relating to his meeting with Mrs Hunter, is it right to say that nothing of relevance to the present case was found?’
‘Yes, Miss, and the computer was returned to him after the interrogation was complete.’
‘Thank you. Let’s move on to the interview.’
These things are never all that gripping. Most counsel and officers don’t have the gift of storytelling, and try as they may to liven it up, the process of reading to the jury a longish interview, one question and answer at a time, is rarely a compelling spectacle. Usually, the jury’s attention starts to flag long before they’ve reached the end, and breaks are often desirable. To be fair, Susan and DC Trent are distinctly above average in this department, and they are aided by the fact that as interviews go, this one is actually quite interesting. The defendant makes no secret of his work as a professional astrologer, a field in which he has been practising, as his website claims, for more than twenty years. He agrees that he had a consultation with Edith Hunter about her prospects of getting the job with Le Chat Bien Paré, and that he advised her that she had an extremely good chance. He doesn’t accept that he said or implied that it was certain, suggesting that he doesn’t believe we can be certain of anything in this world – a philosophy with which, as a judge, I must admit, I have a good deal of sympathy. He admits that Mrs Hunter did not get the outcome he had predicted, but suggests that had more to do with her haste in rushing to Paris and out of her job in London than with any error on his part. Indeed, he stands by his findings as completely reasonable, given the information she provided.
Susan thanks DC Trent and passes him to Aubrey.
‘Officer,’ Aubrey begins, ‘I just have a couple of questions. First, is it right that Mr Busby is a man of previous good character: he has no cautions or convictions recorded against him?’
‘That is correct, sir.’
‘Second, would it be fair to say that Mr Busby was cooperative with you from the first moment you approached him, and gave you every assistance in your investigation?’
‘He was extremely cooperative and easy to deal with, sir. In fact, I would say he was remarkably open and candid with me at all times.’
‘Thank you, Officer.’
This effectively ends the prosecution case, which Susan closes a few minutes later. Aubrey asks me to send the jury out and makes a short and persuasive argument that I should withdraw the case from them. That application can only succeed if either the prosecution has failed to offer any evidence to prove an element of the offence of fraud, or if their evidence as a whole is so tenuous or discredited that it would not be safe to leave the case to the jury. As I told the Grey Smoothies, I’m not at all sure that this case even belongs in the Crown Court. There’s no law against practising astrology, and contrary to what the prosecution has sometimes appeared to suggest, the practice of astrology is not fraudulent in itself – if both astrologer and client believe that there is some legitimate value in it, they are free in law to conduct their business. On the other hand, fraud can be committed in the course of almost any human activity and I can’t honestly say that there is no evidence to support the prosecution’s claim, or that Aubrey has discredited it
so thoroughly that there is next to nothing left of it. I can’t substitute my own feelings for the opinion of the jury. With some reluctance, I announce that I’m going to leave the case to them.
Aubrey announces that he will call Gerard Busby. Mr Busby makes his way to the witness box, clutching a file of papers. I don’t know what I expected an astrologer to look like, but a part of me is surprised by his appearance, a conservative grey suit and a pink tie over a light blue shirt, his hair neatly trimmed. I’m not sure what profession I would assign him to if I had to guess, but I don’t think it would be anything as esoteric as astrology.
‘Mr Busby,’ Aubrey asks, after the defendant has taken the oath and given the court his name – volunteering, without being asked, the date, time and place of his birth – ‘if you would look at Exhibit one with me, please. Your Honour, these are the pages downloaded from Mr Busby’s website; the jury have copies. Mr Busby, you state that you hold a BA from Oxford University: is that correct?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Which college did you go to?’
‘I was at Christ Church.’
‘What did you read?’
‘Modern history.’
‘You also state that you hold a diploma from the College of Astrological Studies of Wales: is that also correct?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Tell the jury a little more about that, if you would. For how long has the college been established?’
‘It was founded in 1921.’
‘Where is it based?’
‘The college has its headquarters in Aberystwyth, but classes are provided at various locations throughout the country.’
‘What do you have to do to earn the diploma?’
‘It’s a one-year course, which is done on a part-time basis, although it’s quite intensive. You do twelve complete weekends and one evening a week of classes, with one break during August. It requires a lot of private study, and there’s a two-day examination at the end of the course. If you pass the exam, you then have to spend a minimum of forty hours sitting in on consultations with a practitioner.’