Heaven's Door

Home > Other > Heaven's Door > Page 23
Heaven's Door Page 23

by Michael Knaggs


  “Jack, it’s very important that you explain satisfactorily to the court the circumstances surrounding the incidents on Delaware Street in Woking where you were approached separately by a number of different people. As you have heard, all those involved were known drug users, so clearly we need to establish why they approached you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand,” said Jack.

  “Let’s start with the most recent incident. This took place just after six o’clock in the early evening of Tuesday 24th March. On this occasion you were observed by one of the investigating team. Do you remember the incident?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell the court what happened?”

  “This guy came up to me and said he wanted to deal. That’s all.”

  “What did he mean by that?”

  “He wanted drugs.”

  “What kind of drugs?”

  “Hard stuff – crack, heroine.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “They say ‘deal’ for hard and ‘trade’ for soft.”

  “Please tell the court, so there’s no misunderstanding, how you come to know the terminology.”

  “It’s common knowledge. The words they use on the street. Everybody knows that.”

  “When you say ‘everybody’ you don’t mean everybody who uses, deals or trades in drugs. You mean, I think, all young people who are familiar with current terms and expressions used on the streets. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Quite. So what happened next?”

  “Next when?”

  “When this person approached you in the street.”

  “I told him to … well … fuck off. I didn’t want anything to do with him. I just thought it was mistaken identity. You know, like the rest.”

  “And what did he do?”

  “Well, he got a bit aggressive. Pushed me; I pushed him back; one or two other people round about got involved. Then it all calmed down and he went. Never saw him again.”

  “Thank you, Jack. You said ‘like the rest’. Could you explain what you meant by that.”

  Jack visibly sagged, as if the effort so far had drained him. He took a long time to reply. Lorna shuffled her notes impatiently.

  “Jack …?”

  “There were about six others.” The words came out like a long sigh. “Same thing. Asked me for drugs. I told them the same – fuck off. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “Why do you think they approached you, Jack?”

  “Like I said before. Mistaken identity. They thought I was somebody else.”

  He turned his head, looking blankly at the wall at the back of the court, as if he’d said all he was going to say.

  “But you can assure the court that nothing passed between you and any of these people?”

  Jack looked wearily towards her, then suddenly shouted.

  “I’ve just said what happened! How many different ways do you want to hear it?”

  Lorna was silent for a long time before speaking again.

  “Can we talk now about the night of the party …”

  *

  Jeremy stayed in his seat for a long time after Lorna sat down. When he rose it was slowly and with great deliberation.

  “Firstly, Mr Tomlinson-Brown, let me congratulate you on your command of drug-related street language. I certainly didn’t appreciate the subtle differences in terminology. For someone who claims he has never been anywhere near drugs in his life, you seem remarkably well educated.”

  He swept a look of wide-eyed incredulity around the courtroom.

  “You told the court that you believe you were a victim of mistaken identity on the twelve occasions you were approached by eight different people on Delaware Street. One of those eight approached you …” he checked his hand-written notes “…three times, and two others on two separate occasions each. I’m sure the court will find it hard to believe – as I do – that multiple cases of mistaken identity are likely in such clandestine circumstances. It seems incredible that people seeking illegal substances in broad daylight would be that careless. Don’t you agree, Mr Tomlinson-Brown?”

  Jack had been staring down at the floor in front of him and looked up quickly at the mention of his name. He said nothing.

  “I said, don’t you agree, Mr Tomlinson-Brown?” Jeremy repeated.

  Jack looked blankly around the courtroom and shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said.

  Jeremy gave a loud sigh and looked across at Lorna with a private, almost apologetic, shrug. He turned back to Jack.

  “Mr Tomlinson-Brown, let me recap just some of the facts in order to save you having to answer any more unnecessary questions. Eight different known drug users approached you asking for drugs over a period of two weeks, some on more than one occasion. Prior to that, seven different people phoned the police, three of whom have since identified you as their supplier. These three are known to have made calls to a phone found hidden in your wardrobe, along with forty-eight bags of crack cocaine. Everything I have just said is true. Can you think of any context where these facts could apply other than the very obvious one, which is that you are a dealer of Class A drugs?”

  Jack said nothing, and his eyes dropped to stare at the floor again.

  “The court is waiting, Mr Tomlinson- Brown.”

  Still no response.

  “Mr Tomlinson-Brown,” Miles Pendle leaned forward, “are you going to answer the question?”

  Jack shook his head but remained silent.

  “Let me put it another way, Mr Tomlinson-Brown. If you are claiming – as you have – that you are innocent, can you think of anyone who would go to so much trouble to do you this sort of harm? Anyone who has a grudge against you? Anyone who you have upset or annoyed? Anyone you owe money to? Anyone?”

  Jack continued looking at the floor and gave the slightest shake of the head.

  “One final question, then,” said Jeremy. “An easy one. When did you decide to hold the party at Etherington Place?”

  Jack shook his head again without looking up.

  “Surely you can answer that?” said Jeremy.

  “No. Can’t remember.”

  Jeremy shot a glance at Lorna.

  “No further questions, m’lord.”

  *

  David was halfway through his forty sit-ups when his mobile sounded with an incoming call. He recognised the number.

  “Hi,” said Jo. “You sound out of breath. Are you okay?”

  “I’m at the gym, and I am certainly not out of breath.”

  “Just the standard heavy breathing like last time, then. Anyway, just wondered if you got to listen on Thursday.”

  “I did and I thought you were great. Not sure whether Mr Forsythe will think so. He seemed to be having trouble getting you on his side. I doubt if you’ll be nominated for witness-of-the-year by the Crown Prosecution Service.”

  “But it was okay, you think?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you. And the other reason I phoned is that I’m over your way this Thursday to sign the contract for Brantingham Villas. Bit sad really, like signing my past away, but lucky to get a buyer so quickly, I suppose. I wondered if you were free for lunch.”

  “That would be great,” said David. “We could go to my new local.”

  *

  The courtroom settled after the lunch recess as Lorna rose from her seat.

  “You have heard the evidence presented by the Crown allegedly linking you with the selling of illegal drugs in and around the Woking area. This is your opportunity to convince the jury that you are in no way connected with this crime and that you are the victim of a malicious deception. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” said Jason.

  He projected a very different figure to that of his friend, standing tall and erect in the dock, eyes alert and attentive, as if to ensure he caught and understood every word.

  “Could you tell the court, have you ever been approac
hed, directly or by phone, by the witness whose statement was read out earlier and who claimed to be buying drugs from you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Do you recognise his name or those of any of the three users who phoned the police claiming to have bought drugs from you but who did not make statements?”

  “No, I haven’t heard of any of them. I have no idea what’s going on. I only know there’s a hell of a lot of liars out there and …”

  “Thank you, Jason. Please just answer my questions for the moment. Can you describe what happened in the early hours of the morning on Tuesday 14th April?”

  “Well, what happened was exactly what the detective described. There was a hammering on the door at about five o’clock – it scared my girlfriend and my mum half to death. Then they waded in – about ten policemen – and started searching around, mainly in my bedroom. The dog started sniffing the carpet and they ripped it up and found a loose floorboard. They tore that up as well and found this stuff. I’d never seen it before, that’s the God’s honest truth. I was just amazed! I definitely wasn’t acting, that’s for sure!”

  “And have you any idea how it got there?”

  “I can only think it was put there during the break-in.”

  “What was the place like after the break-in? Was there a lot of mess?”

  “A bit, not much. There was nothing smashed or anything, just some stuff pulled out of drawers and that – clothes mainly. Nothing touched that you might expect to go – x-Box, DVD, PC, TV and such. They hadn’t been moved.”

  “So none of the sort of items which could have been relatively easy to remove had been taken?”

  “No, none at all.”

  Lorna hesitated. Jeremy rose to his feet to fill the empty few seconds.

  “M’lord, I’m not sure where this is taking us. I certainly would not want to curtail the defendant’s attempt to support his case, but the court already knows why these items were not taken.” He looked down at his notes. “For example, in one of the houses in the same street where nothing was taken, a five hundred pound digital camera was lying on the table and was left untouched. I thought we had established that the thieves were looking specifically for laptops and these were the only items stolen.” He shrugged and sat down.

  “Ms Prentiss?” Miles Pendle invited a response.

  “Well, m’lord, the break-in at the Midandas’ is the obvious time for the drugs to have been placed in the house. I am merely trying to establish any clues that point specifically to that taking place. However, I will move on.”

  She turned back to Jason.

  “Along with the drugs which were found in your house, a mobile phone was also recovered. You have been shown the list of numbers that previously contacted that phone?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Do you recognise any of the numbers?”

  “No, none at all.”

  “Is the number of the phone which was found in your bedroom at all familiar to you?”

  “No, it’s somebody else’s. Has to be.”

  Jeremy gave a loud sigh, and Miles Pendle looked questioningly at him. The counsel spread his arms wide in an elaborate shrug.

  “Do you have a point to make Mr Forsythe?”

  “With respect to my learned colleague, m’lord, I am at a loss as to the point of these questions. The defendant has pleaded not guilty, so he will obviously deny any familiarity with anything incriminating found at his house. However, I will wait my turn.”

  “Indeed you will,” said the judge. “Ms Prentiss?”

  “I have no further questions, m’lord, but I would point out that the answers given by Mr Midanda are consistent with those of an innocent person, as he will remain unless proved otherwise.”

  She took her seat with a fierce glare towards her opponent.

  Jeremy rose from his seat.

  “Mr Midanda, can you remember when it was decided to hold the party at Etherington Place?”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly my party, so …”

  “Let me put it another way; when did you first learn about the party? Can you remember?”

  Jason paused for a moment.

  “Yes, it was when I saw Katey – my girlfriend – on the Saturday before. She’d just asked her mum and…”

  “So that would be six days before the party itself?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Now, with you being very close to both Jack and Katey, am I right in assuming that you would know about it before it was generally known and certainly before people were actually invited?”

  “Yes, I guess you would be right.”

  “Thank you, Mr Midanda.”

  He walked slowly from his seat and stood beside the jury, pausing for a long time before he spoke again.

  “Mr Midanda, can you think of anyone who would want to carry out such an incredibly elaborate scam in order to put you in this position?”

  Jason was silent for a long time.

  “Well, no, I can’t …”

  “In fact, can you think of anyone you know being capable of such a multifaceted conspiracy involving so many people?”

  Jason hesitated again.

  “No, I can’t, but …”

  “Then how can you and your counsel possibly expect anyone in this courtroom to believe it? It is, in fact, unbelievable, isn’t it?”

  “No it’s not!” Jason shouted his reply. “I believe it! I believe it because it fucking well happened!”

  “I don’t think so, Mr Midanda. No further questions, m’lord.”

  *

  Week 10; Tuesday, 26 May…

  Tom looked at the clock on his bedside table – 2:37am. He sat up in bed and realised he was sweating profusely. The sheets were wet and his boxer shorts were sticking painfully to him. He got out of bed and paced the room for a long time.

  Eventually he lay down on top of the duvet and stared at the ceiling, drifting in and out of shallow sleep. Sitting up, he checked the time again – 5.05. He swung his legs off the bed and reached for his mobile.

  “Tom?” Grace’s voice was hoarse. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “You said phone any time, day or night, remember?” he said.

  “Yes, but that was when …”

  “I need your support with something. Something that’s more important to me than I can tell you … I know we’ve had our differences recently, Grace, but I hope you’ll …”

  “Forget that, Tom,” she interrupted. “That was nothing, a misunderstanding. We can work that out later. But what…?”

  “It’s the exiling of the drug-runners. We need to reverse it. Today, this morning! Right now!”

  There was silence for a few moments.

  “Tom, did I hear you right? It’s just after five o’clock, for God’s sake.”

  “No time to lose, Grace. I can be at Westminster in less than two hours from now. I’m going to contact Andrew so that he can get me in front of the House before start of business – immediately after prayers. I need you to go and see him as early as possible and tell him you support this. He’ll listen to you. With your help…”

  “Tom, it’s not going to happen.”

  “It will if you persuade him. He wasn’t all that happy about it anyway. Tell him I’ve been rethinking the whole thing because of public concern – you know what to say.”

  “But, Tom, I …”

  “Look, by midday, or mid-afternoon at the latest, it will be confirmed that Jack is guilty.”

  “You mean found guilty. Surely you don’t…”

  “Just listen, Grace!” Tom yelled down the phone. “I haven’t got time for semantics! It doesn’t matter how you say it, does it? I have got to make this statement before …”

  “Before when, Tom? The House doesn’t sit today until two-thirty, but that’s academic, anyway. Andrew hasn’t seen you in nearly six weeks. Even if he agreed with you about reversing it, there is no way he’s going to let you walk straight back in and make
a statement to the House. As I said, it isn’t going to happen!”

  “It will if you have a word with him.”

  “No it won’t! Stop saying that! I’ll do anything possible to help Jack. But what you want is impossible. Don’t ask me to do this. Don’t set me up to fail you … to fail Jack. That’s not fair!”

  “Christ, Grace, just listen to yourself! I’m trying to save my son’s life, my own life, my marriage, and you’re talking about what’s fair to you!” Tom was yelling.

  Grace shouted back. “Your marriage! You’re asking me to help you save your marriage? When all you’ve done for years is encourage me to ruin it!”

  “I didn’t mean my marriage, Grace, I’m not thinking straight at all. I don’t care about that. It’s Jack, only Jack … Oh, God. You’ve got to help me. Please!”

  “I can’t do what you ask, Tom. But listen to me. If Jack is found guilty…”

  “There’s no ‘if’, Grace.”

  “Listen to me! If he is found guilty and even if he is sentenced today to life-exile …”

  “He will be.”

  “If all that happens, it will take months for the final stage to be reached. You have all that time to work at reversing the legislation – or proving his innocence. Just think about it. And another thing, how would Jack feel if the worst happens and he looks across and you’re not there. He’d think you’d disowned him or something.”

  “Yes, of course. I couldn’t do that.”

  He ended the call without another word.

  *

  Jeremy Forsythe QC rose at 10.15 am in a tense, packed courtroom. People were leaning forward in their seats in anticipation and there was a low hum of conversation which ceased abruptly as the barrister swept his eyes around the gallery.

  “I will not keep you long,” he said, turning to speak directly to the jury. “I am sure, in fact, that you have individually all reached your decision, the same decision, in this dreadfully sad affair. I do not propose to go over again the damning evidence given by those honest people who are far more qualified than me to present the details of the case. I can add nothing to the volume of proof you have already heard, absorbed, and will have considered – or will consider – in reaching your collective conclusion.

 

‹ Prev