So it was no small surprise to Harriet to be welcomed by a warm, almost grandfatherly smile and the offer of tea, as she arrived at London Square Chambers. So used to the posturing and arrogance of barristers only just her senior, she was taken aback by the easy confidence and camaraderie Dawes offered instantly. Now, sitting in a large upholstered chair in his office, Harriet remained alert and ready, but felt more at her ease as well .
Dawes sipped his tea and smiled at Harriet, ‘It is most good to meet you in person, Harriet. I must say, your preparation notes so far have covered all bases well. I think we have a strong case here. Wouldn’t you agree?’
Harriet, tea cup resting in her lap, replied, ‘Yes, I really do. The law seems clear to me and to be on our side. Eloise was not of sound mind when the murder took place. She can’t be held responsible.’
Dawes nodded thoughtfully. ‘You say the DPP was making noises about rejecting a plea of Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity? Despite their own submission for her to be held at St Bernards?’
‘Gaming, I think,’ Harriet said. ‘Stephanie Emmetts is a somewhat bold opponent. I have not appeared opposite her before. But she has a reputation. She is good. But rough.’
‘So I understand. What does the lead psychologist say?’ Randell asked.
‘Doctor Taylor’s report states that Eloise has no memory of the events of the night of November 15. That her temporary amnesia is genuine. But outside of those few hours, her mind is sharp. She does display symptoms of trauma and repeated small periods of time loss, where she loses track of her surroundings.’
‘Interesting.’
‘I’ve seen it myself, sir. When I first visited St Bernards she offered to make me tea then remembered she was not in her kitchen.’
Harriet paused, watching Dawes’ face as he absorbed this information. He flicked through some notes, casually, without haste and drained his cup. Folding his hands elegantly before him, he cocked his head in thought. Harriet waited. It was as though she could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Click-click-click.
‘I think,’ he began, then paused as if assessing his words, ‘I think you are correct.’
Harriet’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Correct, sir?’
‘From your notes, though you haven’t said it outright, I deduce you are leaning towards a plea of Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity, applying the Automatism defence. The inconsistency of her mental state makes true insanity a difficult line to hold. But the temporary disease of the mind, to be not in control of your actions for a period of time, due to mental illness, that fits well. It is a stronger argument for our position and harder for the DPP to contest. They would have to show her actions were voluntary. We must show she was not in control of her actions. Her amnesia helps this defence. She didn’t know what she was doing.’
Harriet’s stomach bubbled with pride. She kept her features calm and professional, suppressing the giddy grin that threatened to break out across her face at the praise. She swallowed and replied calmly, ‘Yes, I think it’s the right defence.’
‘Let’s focus our efforts there then.‘ He paused while Harriet pulled out her note book and pen, then continued, ‘We need recent precedent and outcomes.’
‘I found a precedent for a man found not guilty using automatism. He strangled his wife whilst effectively sleep walking. Eloise wasn’t sleep walking, but she was definitely in a dissociative fugue state. And her prior committal to Hollydale shows a history of delusions.’
‘Review the witness statements. And develop the timeline for November 15th and her loss of control over her actions.’
Harriet jotted down his directions, then paused. She sat back in her chair. Should I say it? She wondered. The words, the doubt bubbled just beneath the surface of her resolve.
Dawes cocked his head and regarded her. ‘There is something else? Something you wish to add?’
Harriet’s mouth worked, searching for the right words. Doubt defeated her. She shook her head, ‘No, no it’s nothing.’
Dawes fixed her with a steady gaze, eyes narrowed, ‘There is something. I can see it on your face. You’d play poker well, but not this round… Whatever it is, say it. We need to have everything on the table between us, so to speak. It is the only way a real defence team can work.’
Harriet knew that. She may not have worked on a murder before, but all cases needed transparency and the cohesion of the legal team. Still… she took a deep breath, ‘It’s just that, well, shouldn’t we at least consider the possibility that she is innocent? That she in fact didn’t do it at all.’
There, she’d said it out loud. She stopped, scanning Dawes’ face. He gave her nothing. The real poker player had arrived.
‘Go on,’ he said.
Harriet took a deep breath. ‘Meeting with Eloise, she’s just so, gentle and calm. I have met violent, angry people, Eloise isn’t one of them.’
‘“Violent” people being the rapists most young defence lawyers are forced to defend?’
Harriet frowned.
Dawes leaned back, eyes gazing out the large office window that overlooked Chancery Lane. Grey clouds gathered together in the sky, threatening rain. At length he turned back to Harriet, eyes bright. ‘Do you know why I took on this case?’
‘No,’ Harriet shook her head, ‘I didn’t want to ask and make you change your mind.’ She smiled self-consciously, ‘Though I did wonder.’
Dawes lips curved in a small, private smile. ‘My wife, Ruth, is sick. Early onset dementia. At first I thought I would retire, look after her, but… She’s not really present most of the time, if you understand my meaning. Work is my sanctuary, where things are logical. In the mind, not the heart.’ He eyed Harriet.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. This was unchartered ground. A sharing of private history. Harriet didn’t have a road map for this. She decided silence was the best way forward, rather than speaking and risking saying the wrong thing.
Dawes continued, ‘Thank you, but sympathy is not what I am looking for. I’m giving you context. My wife is the most kind and giving person I have ever known. Her illness however, is not. Fear, confusion, pain, they can change a person. Any person. None of us truly knows who we are under those pressures. Eloise Lane-Huxley is no exception.’
Harriet felt her uncertainty flutter. But was still unconvinced. ‘I agree with your overall point. But there are still elements that don’t add up. The lack of motive, for instance. Eloise says she didn’t know about the custody application, whatever June may now claim. And the physical size difference. Eloise is such a small woman. Grant Huxley was a big man. It’s hard to see how she could have overpowered him so effectively, even with the scissors…’
‘I mean no disrespect, Harriet, but this is your first murder case. Against the standard client: aggressive, hormone-fuelled men, who commit acts of violence and violation, someone like Eloise Lane-Huxley is hard to accept as a criminal. But looks can be deceiving. It’s easy to fall under your client’s spell. Especially when they are a young, pretty woman,’ he paused, smiled gently. ‘We have to work the facts, not our emotions. And the facts point to Eloise and Automatism. So we work the case.’
Harriet took a deep breath, ‘Yes, but…’
Dawes held up a hand, ‘I am not against keeping an open mind, Harriet. In defence that would be the fast track to failure. Keep your ear to the ground. Double check the evidence. But work the facts. Only the facts. Are we in agreement?’
‘Yes,’ Harriet conceded. It was a direction, but with room to move. He hadn’t fully shut her down, just reminded her to stay on track. Harriet could work with that. ‘Work the facts,’ she agreed.
’Good. Well, I think that is enough for today. I’ll expect an update from you in the next two weeks.’
‘I’ll email through the documents as I have them prepared.’
‘Excellent. Good day Ms Bell.’
Harriet stood and they shook hands, before she headed for the door.
‘Oh and Harriet?�
�� she paused and turned, ‘Facts are king, it’s true. But instinct has a place. Use it, but don’t rely on it.’
Harriet smiled, nodded and left.
She took her time returning to Paddington, choosing to stroll down Chancery Lane towards the Thames before heading to her station. Her route took her past one of the famous Inns of Court of inner London, the professional association for barristers across England and Wales. Lincoln Inn sprawled down one side of the street, red brick walls and heavy black gates tall and authoritative. The sight itself felt like knowledge. Harriet remembered the first time she saw the Inns - the sense of grandeur and wonder, the feeling of being in the presence of an unattainable level knowledge and skill. How she longed to walk those grounds, not as a tourist, but as a peer.
Now, almost ten years later, as she made her way to Embankment Station, the words of Randell Dawes QC still cycling through her mind, for the first time, she felt she just might be worthy of such an establishment. Determination lengthened her stride. Harriet wanted a place at the Bar, a membership to an Inn, an office in a Chambers in London. She wanted it all, and somehow, she was going to get it.
She turned along the river, grey and wild in the January winds. This great place of commerce and discovery churned before her eyes, yet she did not see. In her mind sat only one goal: to find the truth of what happened to Grant Huxley. To build a rock solid case to defend Eloise Lane-Huxley. And to prove herself ready for London.
February
12: Delayed Trauma
Eloise looked pale today. Her blue eyes wide, pupils dilated.
‘How are they treating you?’ Harriet asked.
Eloise curved her lips in a gentle smile. ‘Everyone is so nice here, the nurses especially. Nothing like Hollydale,’ she paused, a shadow drifting across her features. Then, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, continued, ‘Doctor Taylor is very encouraging. He says I’m making wonderful progress. It’s nice, to have help.’
Her blue eyes flickered, face suddenly unsure. ‘Not that I didn’t have help before, of course,’ she said quickly. ‘My sister, June, she was just amazing after Grant left. She’s so good with Jacob. It was his birthday last week…’
She trailed off.
It was the third time Harriet had met with her client. Eloise remained gentle and kind, and prone to concerns that she had said the wrong thing, offended someone or something. Always polite, asking after Harriet, she genuinely seemed to care that Harriet was well and happy. It made a nice change from the leers of rapists and misogyny of domestic abusers. Who’d have thought a murderer would be her preferred client?
‘Can we talk about that time, Eloise? When you were in Hollydale.’
Eloise shifted uncomfortably in her metal framed chair, bit her lip. ‘What do you want to know?’
Harriet paused, reviewed her notes. Start small, she decided. ‘You were 14 when you were committed, correct?’
A nod.
‘You were resident for… 10 months? Do you remember what treatment you received?’
Eloise pressed her eyes closed, her head gave a short shake, more like an involuntary tick then a chosen action. ‘Um… counselling and, some other therapies.’
Harriet watched her client, her distress clearly filling up the room. Time for a new tack. She smiled gently, ‘You obviously did very well, Eloise. 10 months wasn’t a long stay.’
That was a guess, in truth Harriet had no idea how long the average treatment time was in mental hospitals.
Eloise smiled back, eyes thankful, ‘I always try my best,’ she said.
‘Yes, you do.’ Harriet closed her folder, leaning forward. ‘Eloise, your father mentioned to me that one of the reasons you were committed was because you feared that your sister was going to hurt you. Can you tell me about that?’
She recoiled, hands pulling into her lap, shoulders hunched forward, instinctually protecting her vulnerable core. ‘I had delusions.’
‘What did you see, in these delusions?’
‘They were just made up visions. Like bad dreams. They weren’t real.’
‘Bad dreams that June did what?’
‘Just… hit me and things like that.’ Eloise waved her hand in a vague gesture. ‘I understand they weren’t real, now.’
Harriet cocked her head, taking in her client, ‘Do you remember what triggered these, visions?’
As though trying to produce saliva in a dry mouth, Eloise’s lips worked furiously. ‘I’m not sure,’ she began. ‘I don’t remember a time I didn’t have them. Memories of being punched for taking a toy, or pinched so I didn’t complain if we had a fight.’
Harriet frowned. That sounded like the standard behaviour of older siblings, not a delusion.
‘Eloise, when you were committed, June was no longer living at home. She was at university in Exeter.’
Eloise nodded slowly.
‘If your sister wasn’t at home during that time, what visions were you having then?’
‘They came on when she visited. She looked at me with such… resentment. She always hated me being around her friends…’
Interesting. ‘Was that around the time you first met Grant?’
Eloise sucked in a sharp breath. ‘I… well yes, but I was only a kid, really. And I didn’t spend any time with him.’
‘It’s ok Eloise, no one is suggesting anything untoward.’ Harriet waited while Eloise calmed.
‘He was nice to me,’ she ventured. ‘Made time to talk to me. Until June found us walking in the garden together and…’
‘And?’ Harriet prompted.
Eloise swallowed, ‘I know now she was just protecting me. All she was ever doing was protecting me. That’s all she has ever done. I was the one who overreacted. I’m so lucky to have her as my sister. To take care of me, and of… my son.’
Her face crumpled, tears welling in her eyes. Harriet sat back. Enough, she thought. Whatever past tensions may have been between the sisters had clearly been healed. June showed no sign of resentment over her sisters delusions, in fact, she seemed most protective of Eloise. If you ignored her affair with Grant of course. There was no advantage to pressing this line of questioning. Anything she needed to know about Eloise’s time in Hollydale, she could get from Doctor Taylor.
Shifting the focus to something positive Harriet asked, ‘How is Jacob?’
Eloise focus blurred, eyes far away. ‘Beautiful,’ she said. ‘June says he is getting big, two teeth! And he’s still sleeping wonderfully, he’s such a good little man.’
‘When will June bring Jacob for his next visit?’
Her face fell, the tears that had been receding swelled again and breeched Eloise’s eyes. She lowered her head, quickly brushing them away. ‘It’s a long way for Jacob to travel. He’s so little. June’s right, visits aren’t good for him. It would be selfish.’
Harriet felt her brows bunch. No visits? That must weigh on Eloise terribly.
She tried a gentle tack, ‘She seems very committed to Jacob, a wonderful aunt.’
Eloise pursed her lips tightly, frustration flashing across her face. She turned her face to the window, the bright lights washing the definition of her face away. Harriet cursed herself. It must be so hard to be away from her child, Harriet couldn’t imagine the strain of that separation. She’d meant her comment as encouragement, but could see how it might only serve to remind Eloise that it was her sister caring for her child, not his mother who sat in The Orchard miles away. However much she was thankful to her sibling, that knowledge would still hurt.
Harriet shuffled her papers, giving Eloise a moment to recover.
‘I wanted to talk with you about Mr Huxley’s custody application, for sole custody of Jacob. When we first spoke you didn’t seem aware of it. In the transcript of your police interview it’s clear you became very upset when you were shown the document. Can you walk me through that?’
Eloise squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands trembled. Visibly gathering herself she began, ‘It w
as just a shock, I guess. Seeing that letter from the courts. I’d thought things between Grant and I were healing. He took Jacob and me out for lunches, we enjoyed walks on the beach. Only the week before he mentioned taking some time off work to come and stay in Torcross, with me. With us. Though Grant does like to have things his way.’ She stopped abruptly, hunching down.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Nothing, it’s nothing.’ She waved a hand dismissively. Harriet was unconvinced.
‘Eloise, what aren’t you saying?’ Harriet pressed.
Eloise looked up, eyes wide with fear. ‘It’s just, well, Grant knows how he likes things… it’s best to do as he says.’
She looked away, body tense and closed. Harriet knew she would get no more out of her. She filed the comment away for later and continued.
‘Returning to the letter, Grant hadn’t spoken to you of his custody intentions?’
‘No,’ Eloise exclaimed, heat coming into her normally calm voice. Harriet looked up. Eloise shook her head. ‘No,’ calmer now, ‘he hadn’t mentioned it. And I hadn’t seen the letter until that day in the police station…’
‘They say you flew into a rage.’
‘Did I? I don’t remember it that way. Only being very upset. It was a shock. A threat like that to my child. To have him taken away from me…’
‘Eloise, are you sure you hadn’t seen the letter before?’
‘No, never.’
‘You didn’t come across it when you were looking for your scissors, after June left? Become enraged? Decide to take matters into your own hands with Grant?’
Eloise had gone pale at the mere suggestion. Yet again Harriet wondered just how well she understood that she was facing trial for murder.
Did she just not remember? Or was June lying? Instinctively, Harriet just didn’t trust the elder Lane sister.
‘I…’ Eloise swallowed, ‘No. All I remember is looking for my scissors… and then June screaming. I…’ she looked up at Harriet, eyes full of tears. ‘Do you think that’s why I did it? Because of the letter?’
The Unsound Sister Page 8