by Vicary, Tim
‘If there is such an implication of course I withdraw it.’ Turner bowed to the judge. ‘I am happy to agree that Mrs Parsons has behaved entirely within the law.’
Judge Mookerjee studied the two barristers. ‘Does that satisfy you, Mrs Newby?’
Within the law, Sarah saw, was a stroke of genius. It was impossible to challenge and yet it suggested that Lucy had done something wrong, even if technically legal. Probably half the jury had missed Turner’s subtle innuendoes; now she had emphasized them. Not for the first time in her career, she had been outsmarted. There was nothing for it but to back out as gracefully as she could.
‘Indeed, my Lord. For the present.’
‘So, Chief Inspector Churchill,’ Turner resumed. ‘What was your response to this unusual written statement?’
‘Well, Mrs Parsons said that if I had no evidence against Mr Newby, he should be released immediately. I said that we did have evidence. I showed him the trainers which we had found in his house, with the mud and grass stains and blood on them. I explained that they matched the footprints near the body.’
‘And what was his response?’
‘He said they weren’t his trainers.’
‘Did he suggest who else they might belong to?’
‘No sir. I asked if anyone else kept their trainers in his house, and he said they didn’t.’
‘Did you show him any other evidence?’
‘Yes. I showed him the breadknife, and told him it had blood with Jasmine’s blood group on it. AB negative. The same blood group as on the trainers.’
‘What was his response to that?’
‘He was very angry. He got to his feet and threatened me. At first he said it wasn’t his knife at all. Then he said that it couldn’t be her blood because he didn’t kill her.’
‘I see.’ Again Turner paused, and the eyes of the jury strayed to Simon in the dock, imagining him threatening two policemen, and lying about the ownership of the knife. Sarah guessed what was coming next.
‘At this point, did Mr Newby mention anything about Jasmine cutting her finger with the breadknife?’
‘Nothing at all, sir, no.’
‘Did he ever suggest that to you?’
‘No, never.’
‘So it’s fair to say, is it, that this explanation for the blood on his knife and trainer is something that he now relies on for his defence, but which he failed to mention when interviewed?’
‘It is, sir, yes.’
‘Very well. Let us move on to another aspect of the defence case, if we may. Can I ask you to look back at that statement which Mr Newby wrote, after meeting Mrs Parsons. Does it say anywhere that Simon made love to Miss Hurst on Thursday 13th May?’
Churchill pretended to consult the document, then looked up. ‘No, it doesn’t.’
‘What does it say happened that afternoon?’
‘It says ‘I met her by the river and she came back to my house for a meal. I asked her to come back to live with me but she wouldn’t. We argued about this and then she left.’ That’s all. Nothing about making love.’
‘So at what point did Mr Newby mention this to you?’
‘When I told him that Miss Hurst had been raped before she died. I said we’d found traces of semen, and so DNA analysis would identify the man who raped and murdered her.’
‘And what was his response?’
‘At that point he said that the semen would be his. He claimed that he had made love to Jasmine earlier that afternoon.’
‘Did he admit that he had raped her?’
‘No sir. I asked him about that and he said he had not.’
‘I see. But again it’s fair to say, is it, that in his original handwritten statement he made no mention of this act of sexual intercourse which he is now trying to use in his defence? He only came up with it when confronted with the evidence.’
‘That’s correct, yes.’
Phil Turner waited for a moment, rubbing his ear as though wondering if there were anything he had missed. Several jurors were scowling at Simon with unconcealed disgust.
‘Thank you, Chief Inspector. Wait there, please.’
When Sarah stood up, Churchill faced her with a polite, contemptuous smile. The trick in situations like this, as they both knew, was to put the police in as bad a light as possible.
‘Mr Churchill,’ she asked, refusing to dignify him with his rank. ‘What time of day was it that you arrested my son?’
‘At 3.47 a.m., madam.’ Madam was an exquisite touch. As he spoke he looked away from her towards the jury, to suggest that she was troubling him with trivialities.
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’ Reluctantly he looked back at her.
‘Why did you arrest him so early in the morning?’
A look of amazement crossed Churchill’s face. ‘He was the suspect in a serious murder case. I arrested him as soon as I could. The Scarborough police spotted his car late that night and I drove immediately to Scarborough to arrest him.’ What’s wrong with that, his look said.
‘So he was asleep when you arrived, was he?’
‘He was in bed asleep, yes.’
‘And did you make the arrest alone, or with other officers?’
‘With two Scarborough officers and DC Easby.’
‘I see. So at quarter to four in the morning, Simon Newby was asleep in his bed. Two minutes later, four policemen burst into his bedroom and arrested him. You told him why he was being arrested and informed him of his rights. In a loud, slow voice, I think you said.’
‘I spoke slowly. I didn’t say my voice was loud.’
‘While he was still in bed?’
‘Yes.’
‘And then you handcuffed him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And took him outside to your police car?’
‘We did, yes.’
‘What was he wearing at this time?’
‘His pyjamas.’
‘I see.’ Sarah looked at the jury to see what effect, if any, her questions were having. Most looked reasonably alert, at least. ‘So let me get this picture right. Here we have a young man, fast asleep in his bed at 3.45 in the morning, when suddenly he wakes up to find four police officers in his bedroom shouting at him. Before he can get out of bed they tell him his girlfriend is dead and that he is being arrested for her murder. Then they handcuff him, drag him downstairs and put him in a police car. Is that what happened?’
‘Madam, he was being arrested on a very - serious - charge.’ Churchill spoke slowly and clearly, as though explaining to a slow-witted child. Someone in the public gallery laughed.
‘And then you interrogated him,’ said Sarah coldly.
‘I beg your pardon? When, exactly?’
‘In the police car. You asked him questions in the police car, didn’t you? On the way back from Scarborough.’
‘No, madam, we did not. I’ve already explained that.’
‘I think you did. My client remembers very clearly that you asked him questions in the police car.’
‘No, madam, we didn’t ask him any questions until we got back to York.’
‘Well, you say that, but I put it to you that you did ask him questions in the police car.’
‘No.’
‘My client clearly remembers that you did. He will give evidence that you did.’
‘We did not.’
‘You see, this is a vital point, isn’t it, Mr Churchill? I suppose even you can appreciate the feelings of a young man who has been dragged out of his bed by four strangers in the middle of the night, forced into a car, and told that his girlfriend is dead. How would you expect that young man to feel? Confused, perhaps? Terrified? Overcome by grief? All of those things?’
‘He might be overcome by guilt.’
‘Not if he was innocent.’ She paused and glanced at the jury. ‘Mr Churchill, there are rules to protect suspects in these situations, are there not? Do you remember what they are?’
Churchill sighed, and
spoke in a monotone as though deliberately reciting something he had learned off by heart. ‘A suspect who has been arrested should not be questioned further until he is in an interview room in a police station where the interview can be recorded on tape.’
‘Exactly. And one of the purposes of those rules is to protect the accused, isn’t it? From being unfairly harassed when he is handcuffed in the back of a police car, for instance.’
‘That may be one purpose, yes. Another is to protect the police from false accusations by unscrupulous lawyers.’
Touché, she thought. But Sarah was playing the game for real today. ‘I put it to you, Mr Churchill, that you knowingly and deliberately broke these rules in the most cynical manner. Not only did you arrest this young man quite unnecessarily in the middle of the night, in a way calculated to terrify him out of his wits; you then handcuffed him, told him his girlfriend was dead, and then interrogated him in your car while he was overcome with grief and shock.’
‘No ...’ Churchill shook his head.
‘You did all this deliberately to confuse him and get him to say something to incriminate himself. And you were successful, weren’t you?’
‘He made these statements voluntarily. There was no interrogation in the car.’
‘Voluntarily, you say? When he was dragged from his bed in his nightclothes, and handcuffed in the car with two strange men? How was he handcuffed, Mr Churchill? With his hands in front of him or behind?’
‘His hands were behind him.’
‘Was he restrained in any other way?’
‘He was strapped into his seat, yes, for his own safety.’
‘And you call this situation voluntary?’
‘His situation wasn’t voluntary, madam, no. He was under arrest. But he made his statements voluntarily, without any interrogation. As I have already said.’
‘So you handcuff a young man, in his pyjamas, in the middle of the night, with his hands behind his back, drive him fifty miles through the countryside with two strange men who accuse him of murdering his girlfriend, and then you call his statements voluntary?’
‘He made his statements voluntarily, and I recorded them in the normal way.’
‘Most people would call that intimidation, Mr Churchill. So now of course we understand why he made this foolish mistake of saying he hadn’t seen Jasmine for weeks. He lied because he was terrified out of his wits, because you had been bullying him ever since you woke him up at quarter to four in the morning ...’
To her surprise, Phil Turner was on his feet. ‘My Lord, is there a question in all this?’
Judge Mookerjee peered at her. ‘Mrs Newby?’
‘I was coming to that, My Lord. How long is the drive from Scarborough to York?’
‘About an hour, at that time in the morning. But ...’
‘So for all that time, while Simon was adjusting to the shock of hearing his girlfriend was dead, you were interrogating him, accusing him of murder. No wonder he was terrified, no wonder he felt he had to lie to save himself!’
‘We did not ask him any questions in the car. This arrest was conducted according to the rules, and his statements were recorded according to the rules as well. That’s why I showed him a written record of his comments at the start of the interview in the police station.’
‘When he immediately denied them, is that right?’
‘After he he’d had legal advice, yes.’
Churchill nodded at Lucy, to remind the jury of the implication that she had done something unethical. Swiftly, Sarah challenged him again.
‘That’s not true, though, is it, Mr Churchill? My son didn’t have time to discuss your notes with his solicitor - he denied them immediately you showed them to him.’
‘At first he did, yes. Then he agreed that he had made those statements, but changed his story to say that he had seen Jasmine Hurst on Thursday 13th after all.’
‘Yes. So as soon as he was in a proper environment, where he had a solicitor with him as was his legal right, and he was no longer handcuffed in a car being shouted at by two men who told him his girlfriend was dead, he began to tell the truth. Is that what you’re saying?’
Churchill smiled dismissively. ‘He changed his story, yes. After he’d seen his lawyer.’
‘All right. Let’s look at what he did after he had spoken to his lawyer. Not only did he begin to co-operate with you, Mr Churchill, but he actually did something quite unprecedented in your experience. He volunteered a written statement of the truth, isn’t that right?’
‘He gave me a statement that was partially true, yes.’
‘Partially true, Mr Churchill? Would you read the statement again, please, and tell me which parts of it you think are not true?’
To her delight Churchill fell into her trap. He picked up Simon’s statement and began to read through it. The court fell silent, waiting. After nearly a minute, he looked up.
‘I mean that the statement was incomplete. It missed a number of crucial details.’
‘So there is nothing in his statement that is untrue. Is that what you are saying?’
‘It’s incomplete. For example ...’
‘But it’s all true, isn’t it? Every word of that statement is true?’
‘True as far it goes, yes ...’
‘Thank you.’ For a second, Sarah thought that she had him. But she was wrong.
‘It doesn’t say that he had sex with her, which he is now relying on for his defence. It doesn’t say that he hit her in the street, leaving a bruise on her face. Those are pretty important omissions, in my view. It doesn’t say that he spied on her when she was with David Brodie, and had a fight with him outside his house. That’s true as well, Mrs Newby, you know.’
Shit! She’d had him on the ropes, but he’d winded her with three heavy blows to the body. Her mind froze and she reeled, eyes glazed, waiting for the knockout. Then she hit back.
‘That doesn’t alter the fact that everything in that statement was true. If I asked where you were last night, Mr Churchill, you might say you were with a young woman, but you wouldn’t necessarily tell me what you did in bed with her. You’d be embarrassed, wouldn’t you?’
As Churchill hesitated, surprised by the question, a smothered male laugh came from behind her in the courtroom. A look of fury crossed his face, followed, to her delight, by a faint but unmistakable blush. I’ve touched a nerve I didn’t know existed, she thought, delighted.
‘Perhaps I would, yes. But then no one’s accused me of murder.’
‘Nevertheless, that’s why my son didn’t write down that he had sex with Jasmine that afternoon. He had no idea it was important at the time, had he? He simply told you he’d been with her, which was true.’
‘Possibly.’ Churchill was looking daggers past her, at whoever had laughed. She longed to look round herself.
‘There you are then. As soon as my son was at the police station, he gave you information that was entirely true. And in the course of that interview, when everything else he said was true, did he at any time admit to killing Jasmine Hurst?’
‘No, he denied it.’
‘Exactly. He’s always denied that, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
She had almost finished with Churchill. She glanced at her notes to remind herself how she had planned this last night. Surprise him now, keep him off guard.
‘When did you first tell him that Jasmine was dead?’
‘I ... when we arrested him. We told him then.’
‘Pretty shocking news, wouldn’t you say? Especially when it’s brought to you by four policemen in the middle of the night. How did he react to it?’
‘He claimed he didn’t know she was dead.’
‘He claimed he didn’t know.’ Sarah let the words hang a little in the air. ‘I suppose it never crossed your mind, Inspector Churchill, that this claim might actually be true? In which case your manner of breaking this terrible news was - what shall we say? Brutal?’
�
�I believed that he had murdered her.’
‘You believed that, yes, but what if you were wrong? What if you were quite wrong and he really thought Jasmine was alive? What sort of reaction would you expect?’
Churchill shrugged. ‘If he really believed Jasmine was still alive, I suppose he would have been shocked.’
‘And how did he behave?’
‘Well, he appeared to be upset, of course. He said he didn’t know she was dead and started screaming at us. But in my view it was all fraud. He was shocked to be caught, that’s all.’
‘He appeared to be upset, you say. Did he ask you how she had died?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was this in his room, or in the car?’
‘In the car.’
‘When he was handcuffed and strapped to his seat. Did you tell him how she had died?’
‘In general terms, yes. I told him she’d been raped, and had her throat cut.’
‘And what was his reaction to this news?’
‘He appeared to be upset.’
Again Sarah let the words hang in the air. The longer she waited, the more callous she hoped they might sound. But it was only a hope. The jury might equally well sympathize with Churchill’s cynicism.
‘Describe this appearance of being upset for us, Inspector, if you will. Did he seem shocked? Did he weep? What did he do?’
Churchill looked up at the ornate domed ceiling for a moment and sighed, as though to indicate his impatience. ‘As I recall he fell silent for a while. Then he started shouting at us and saying he hadn’t seen her for weeks.’
Damn! She had walked into that. I need an exit strategy, quick.
‘So, to sum up your evidence, Mr Churchill. Four policeman woke my son in the middle of the night, handcuffed him and told him his girlfriend was dead. He appeared to be upset by this. You told him she had been raped and had her throat cut and he appeared to be even more upset by that. Correct so far?’
The mocking smile again. ‘If you put it like that, yes.’
‘Then, when he is handcuffed in your car and still appears to be upset by this truly shocking news, you accuse him of murder and start to question him ...’
‘No!’ Churchill shook his head vigorously. ‘We did not question him in the car.’