A Matter for the Jury (18 page)

‘Not very good?'

‘Not as good as my parents, sir.'

‘No. I understand. You would probably have preferred to go to the King's School at Ely, the cathedral school, wouldn't you? Do you know about it?'

Ben saw Gareth rise.

‘Sir, I'm not sure where my learned friend is going with this. Is it relevant to the case before this jury?'

‘Mr Schroeder?' the judge inquired.

‘It is, sir. That will become clear with a subsequent witness, if the court will allow me a little leeway.'

Gareth shrugged and sat down.

‘Very well,' the judge said.

‘Much obliged, sir. Raymond…?'

‘I think any boy would, sir.'

‘Yes, of course. Because you can sing in the cathedral choir, and perhaps even go on to Cambridge University as a scholar when you are older, can't you?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘But there are not many places for choristers, are there?'

‘No, sir.'

‘And you have to get in quite young, don't you?
By the time you are your age, it's almost too late, isn't it?'

A look of sadness.

‘Yes.'

‘Your parents did apply to send you to the King's School, didn't they?'

‘Yes.'

‘But you were not accepted, were you?'

‘No.'

‘Did they tell you why?'

Resentful now, arms folded across his chest, a frown on his face.

‘Mr Sharples didn't think I was good enough.' Then, suddenly.
‘But I was. I
was
. What does he know?'

Ben nodded.

‘You knew you were good enough, Raymond, didn't you?'

‘Yes. I was.'

‘Your parents knew too, didn't they?'

‘Yes.'

‘If Mr Sharples didn't recommend you, was there any other way to get in?'

Hesitation.

‘If Mr Little had asked them to take me…'

‘That's what your parents said?
If the vicar asked them, they might take you, even if Mr Sharples didn't agree?'

A nod.

‘You have to…'

‘Yes.'

‘But Mr Little wouldn't ask them, would he?'

Quietly.

‘No. He wouldn't ask.'

Ben allowed a few moments to pass.

‘Were you angry about that?'

Silence.

‘All right.
Raymond, Mr Little didn't touch your penis, did he?'

The frown still on the face, the arms still folded tight.

‘He did.'

‘And he didn't expose his penis to you, did he?'

‘He did.'

‘Thank you, Raymond. I have no more questions.'

‘Thank you, Mr Schroeder,' Judge Peterson said. ‘If there is nothing further…'

Gareth shook his head.

‘It's a bit early, but the jury has had a long morning. We will adjourn until 2 o'clock for lunch. The public and press will be re-admitted to court after lunch.'

The jury left court.
Bows were exchanged between Bench and Bar, and the judge was gone.

Out of the corner of his eye Ben saw a folded note being pushed across counsel's bench towards him. It read: ‘nicely done'
.
Ben turned, but Gareth was already on his way out of court.

* * *

Lunch was a hurried sandwich at the George. Jess was preparing to set out for Peterborough to meet Joan Heppenstall, and John Singer had left for Ely to ensure that the church witnesses were in place and prepared for the next day.

‘So far, so good,' Barratt Davis observed.

‘Yes. I'm glad to have that behind us,' Ben replied. ‘We may make some headway with the father this afternoon, and then it's up to Little tomorrow.'

‘I've been trying to read the jury, but they're an expressionless bunch, aren't they? They are not giving anything away at all. I thought there might be some reaction to the boy's evidence, but not even a flicker, that I saw.'

‘They are straight out of jury central casting,' Ben replied. ‘I couldn't even make a clear choice about who I wanted to challenge.'

‘I noticed that. How did you decide, just out of interest?'

‘I picked the two I thought were wearing the most expensive suits.'

Barratt laughed out loud.

‘Well, if Little does well in the box, and if the Canon gives him a ringing endorsement, and if we decide we can call Joan, we may be in with a chance, don't you think?'

Ben nodded.

‘The trouble with this case, Barratt, is that I'm not entirely sure what our defence is. It seems to be that
someone
made this story up because Little wouldn't recommend Raymond for the King's School. But the problem is, I'm not sure
who
.'

‘What does your gut say?' Barratt asked.

‘The father,' Ben replied immediately.

‘Mine too.'

Ben finished his coffee.

‘All right. Let's go and find out what he has to say for himself.'

25

‘Please give the
court your full name,' Gareth began.

‘Godfrey Stone.'

‘Are you the father of the previous witness, Raymond Stone?'

‘That is correct.'

‘Mr Stone, where were you on the evening of 22 January this year?'

‘I was at home with my wife.'

‘Where was Raymond, to your knowledge?'

‘He left the house at about ten minutes before seven to walk to the church for choir practice.'

‘Was that a regular occurrence on Wednesday evenings?'

‘It was, yes.'

‘What time did you expect Raymond back?'

‘Some time after 8 o'clock; not later than 8.30.'

‘At what time did Raymond actually get home on this particular evening?'

‘A little after 8.30.'

Gareth paused, as if consulting a note.

‘How did you become aware that he had returned?'

Ben suddenly sat forward and concentrated hard on the witness. He seemed ill at ease. He had his hands behind his back, but the pose did not seem relaxed. Ben felt sure that the hands were tightly clasped together. He was shifting his weight from one foot to
the other.

‘I heard the back door open.'

‘Did Raymond have a key?'

‘No. We would leave the back door open for him.'

‘Did you hear him come in?'

‘Yes. But then…'

‘Go on, Mr Stone.'

‘Instead of coming into the living room and saying “hello” to his mother and me, as he usually did, and telling us about choir practice, he ran straight upstairs to his room and closed the door.'

‘And that was unusual for him, you say?'

‘Very. In fact, I don't think he had ever done that before.'

‘I see,' Gareth said. ‘What, if anything, did you do?'

Ben glanced at Gareth. It was a very cautious question, as non-leading as it could be. He turned his head back and watched the witness hesitate.

‘I didn't do anything at first. I thought perhaps he needed the toilet, or there was something he wanted in his room. So I was expecting him to come downstairs. But he didn't. I left it for five or ten minutes, then my wife and I looked at each other, and said…'

‘Well, you can't tell us what was said, but what did you do?'

‘I went up to Raymond's room.'

‘What did you find?'

‘I went in and found him crying. He was sitting at the desk that he uses for his homework, he had his head down on it, and he was crying his eyes out.'

‘It may be an obvious question, Mr Stone. But I want you to tell the jury as precisely as you can what state Raymond appeared to be in.'

‘He was very distressed. Almost hysterical, I would say.'

‘I see. What did you do?'

‘I tried to comfort him, and I asked him what was wrong. At first, I thought he might have been hurt, but I couldn't see any sign of injury. He was just very upset.'

‘Did he tell you what was wrong?'

Ben hesitated.
He noticed the judge glance down at him. He had, of course, prepared for this moment in his mind. He could venture a technical objection on the ground that whatever Raymond said was hearsay and inadmissible. But Gareth would argue that it was a recent complaint – a complaint by a victim of a sexual crime shortly after the event – and so was admissible. The probability was that the judge would allow the evidence, and the probability was that he would be right to do so. Ben quickly decided to follow his instinct, and remained in his seat.

‘Eventually.'

‘What do you mean by that?'

‘I had to ask him several times. He did not want to talk about it. I didn't want to force him. But I didn't know what was
wrong, and I felt that I had to find out.'

‘What, if anything, did he tell you, eventually?'

Ben noted the form of the question again. The witness hesitated for some time; when he finally answered, he blurted his answer out quickly, without pausing for breath.

‘He told me that the vicar had touched him, in the vestry, after choir practice.'

‘What did you understand Raymond to mean by that?'

Ben shot to his feet.

‘Sir, my learned friend knows very well that he cannot ask that.'

‘Mr Morgan-Davies…' Judge Peterson began.

Gareth held up a hand. ‘My learned friend is quite right.' He looked down at his notes, flashing Ben a grin, which Ben pretended to ignore.

‘What did he say, as precisely as you can, please?' Gareth asked. His tone suggested that he did not expect a useful answer.

‘
He said that the vicar had exposed his penis to him and had touched his penis through his clothes.'

Gareth and Ben exchanged glances.

‘I see. What did you do after Raymond had told you all this?'

Stone raised his eyebrows.

‘I went downstairs and told my wife what had happened. She immediately went up to see Raymond, to comfort him. She was up there with him for at least half an hour. Then she came down, made him some cocoa, and we put him to bed. Once he was in bed, we talked about what to do.
At first, I didn't want to do anything.'

‘Why was that?'

‘Well… Mr Little was our vicar, you know. The whole family are members of his congregation. I was shocked. To be honest, I thought that Raymond might have imagined it. I didn't want to tell anyone until I was more sure. So we talked about it, and we decided that I should telephone Mr Little and ask him about it.'

‘What time was it by then?'

‘It was late, close to 11 o'clock, I should think.
We talked about it for a long time, going back and forth.'

‘Did you then phone Mr Little and talk to him?'

‘I did.'

‘What was said between you?'

‘I told Mr Little what Raymond had said. I asked him about it.'

Hesitation.

‘What, if anything, did Mr Little say?'

‘He apologised and said something like, he didn't know what had come over him.'

‘Something like? Can you tell the jury precisely what was said?'

‘Not really.
I was very shocked that night. I can't give it to you word for word, but that was what he said.'

Gareth nodded.

‘Did you telephone the police the following morning?'

‘Yes, I certainly did.'

‘And did you go to the police station to make a formal complaint?'

‘I did.'

‘Thank you, Mr Stone. I have no further questions.'

* * *

‘Raymond told you that the vicar had exposed his penis to him, did he, Mr Stone?' Ben asked.

‘He did.'

‘In so many words?'

‘Yes.

‘Using the word “penis”?'

Hesitation.

‘Yes.'

‘He came out with that very word himself, did he? You didn't have to prompt him?'

‘I don't know what you mean?'

‘Well, boys have different words for it, don't they? “Penis” is a grown-up word, isn't it? I just wondered whether “penis” was the word he used, or the word you are using for what he said?'

‘No, he used the word himself.'

‘I see. And he told you that the vicar had touched his penis?'

‘He did.'

‘Again, using the word “penis” himself, without your suggesting it?'

‘That is correct.'

Ben looked down at the documents laid out in
front of him and selected one with no particular haste.

‘Mr Stone, do you remember giving evidence at the magistrates' court on 13 February, when your deposition was taken?'

The witness unclasped his hands, brought them around to the front of his body, and folded them across his chest. The gesture was so similar to Raymond's stance in the witness box that Ben could not resist a smile.

‘I do.'

‘Do you remember my learned friend Mr Morgan-Davies asking you about what Raymond had said to you in his room?'

‘Yes.'

‘You can see your deposition if you wish.
Your evidence was that Raymond had said that Mr Little had “touched” him? You were unable to remember any more than that, is that not correct?'

‘If you say so.'

‘No, Mr Stone. The jury must hear what
you
say about it. Is it not the case that you said only that Raymond said he had been touched?
You gave no details at all, did you? Nothing about touching his penis?'

‘No. Not then, no.'

‘Do you remember my learned friend pressing you and asking you, as he has today, whether you could recall the precise words Raymond used?'

‘Yes.'

‘And did you reply that you could not remember?'

‘I believe so, yes.'

‘Is it also true that, in your deposition, you said nothing about Mr Little exposing himself to Raymond?'

Silence.

‘I can ask the usher to show you your deposition, if you would like to see it.'

‘No. I did not say that specifically.'

‘No.
Mr Stone, would you care to explain to the jury why you have given these details today, although you were unable to recall them during your deposition?'

The witness shifted position miserably in the witness box.

‘I suppose no one asked.'

‘My learned friend will correct me, if I am wrong' Ben said. ‘But he asked you to describe in detail everything Raymond had said. Is that not true?'

Stone looked at Gareth for support, but Gareth remained impassive in his seat. Silence.

‘Let me move on to something else,' Ben said.
‘You phoned Mr Little at about 11 o'clock that evening, as you have said. There is no dispute about that. But he did not say anything about not knowing what had come over him. That's complete nonsense, isn't it?'

‘No. That's what he said.'

‘Really? Well, if he did say that, that would be quite important, wouldn't it?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, your vicar would have been admitting that he had behaved indecently towards your son, wouldn't he?'

‘Yes.'

‘That would be quite shocking to you, wouldn't it?'

‘It
was
quite shocking.'

‘And yet you did not mention that phone call to anyone until 10 February, almost three weeks later, and only three days before the committal proceedings? Is that not correct?'

‘Yes.'

‘Not a word to the police when you phoned them the morning after?'

‘No.'

‘Not a word when you went to the police station?'

‘No.'

‘Did it just skip your memory?'

‘It must have.'

Ben paused.

‘Yes. It must have. Raymond is a gifted singer, isn't he, Mr Stone?
Exceptional for his age?'

Ben watched the sudden change of subject take the witness by surprise. He turned towards Ben with a startled look.

‘Yes, he is,' he replied defensively.

‘And you and your wife wanted his talent to be recognised, so that he could go to the King's School at Ely, did you not?'

Hesitation. Stone turned to appeal to the judge.

‘I don't see what that has to do with this case.'

‘Answer the question, please, Mr Stone,' Judge Peterson replied.

‘Well, yes, we did. Why shouldn't we?'

Ben shook his head. ‘I'm not criticising you at all for that, Mr Stone. On the contrary, choir boys at the Cathedral School have many advantages, don't they? Their talents are on display. They can begin musical careers. They may win scholarships to Cambridge colleges as choristers, or even organ scholars. Isn't that right?'

‘Yes.'

‘Yes. Of course you would want that for your son.
And you believed he was good enough, didn't you?'

For the first time, Stone looked assertive.

‘We
knew
he was good enough. We had been to Ely Cathedral. We had heard the choir many times. My wife and I have musical backgrounds. We started him off singing. We
knew
he was at least as good as some of those other boys.'