Bold Counsel (The Trials of Sarah Newby) (7 page)

‘No, of course not. I didn’t mean that at all.’ Baxter’s eyes met hers, with a glare that suggested that he would happily handcuff her to a boiling radiator if he could, and leave her there all night. She looked down, quietly leafing through her notes.

‘My client’s suggestion, you see, Inspector, is that there was collusion between yourself and the officers in Wakefield prison. You were left alone with Mr Barnes for a considerable period of time.’

‘That’s not true either. The prison logs totally refute it.’

‘So there was no collusion here, or in the placing of Brian Winnick in Jason Barnes’s cell?’

‘None at all.’

‘It just happened, did it?’

‘So it seems.’

Baxter’s shrug, Sarah thought, was satisfyingly complacent. She glanced up at the bench, where the female judge was studying Robert Baxter with distaste, as if she had just sucked on a lemon.

‘Inspector Baxter, how well did you know Brian Winnick? Before this happened, I mean.’

‘Winnick?’ Baxter shrugged. ‘He was a well-known villain. I’d arrested him a number of times, I suppose.’

‘For what offences?’

‘Drug-dealing, mostly. Burglary, theft.’

‘He was a habitual criminal, then? Someone you knew quite well?’

‘You could say that, yes.’

‘He was a police informer, too, wasn’t he? Even before this case?’

‘Yes, he was, a very good one. Over a period of five years he fed us information which led to the conviction of many individuals, several of them major players in the drugs trade. All the information he gave us over that period was later corroborated by other sources, or by what we found when we made arrests. I never knew him lie to us.’

‘And yet he himself was a convicted drug dealer, wasn’t he?’

Robert Baxter sighed again. It was a convincing act, clearly intended to indicate how the wealth of his experience in the real world qualified him to understand criminal activities far better than this jumped-up lady barrister. He turned away from her to address his remarks directly to the three judges.

‘He was, yes, my lords. By definition, an informer is only useful if he is himself part of the criminal world. So as I am sure
your lordships
realise, almost all police informers have a criminal record and are involved in criminal activities. If they were honest innocent citizens, they would be no use to us.’

‘Indeed.’ Sarah noted the wry smiles of acknowledgement from the judges. A point to him, she thought. But she hadn’t finished with this man yet. Carefully, she fished a sheet of paper out of her bundle and smoothed it on the lectern in front of her. It was an interesting result of Lucy Parson’s detailed researches. She addressed the retired detective in her most polite, disarming tone.

‘Detective Superintendent Baxter, when you went to Wakefield Prison to interview Brian Winnick, what was the purpose of your visit?’

A brief frown of hesitation crossed Baxter’s brow. ‘To interview him about a crime I was investigating, of course.’

‘The drug-dealing charge, you mean?’ Sarah smiled lightly, watching Baxter’s eyes. But the man wasn’t stupid. He knew, just as she did, that if Winnick was being held on remand for drug-dealing, he had already been charged. So it would have been against procedure to interview him further about that offence. There must have been another reason.

‘No, not that case. It was for a different crime.’

What Baxter’s asking himself,
Sarah thought,
is whether I know what that crime was.
Oh yes, I do, sunshine. Lucy Parsons has found out.

‘What crime was that?’

‘It was, er ...’ Baxter hesitated ‘... nothing to do with this case.’

‘Really?’ Sarah smiled sweetly. ‘It was a rape case, wasn’t it?’

Baxter glanced towards the judges. ‘Do I have to answer that, my lords?’

The senior judge looked at Sarah. ‘Is this relevant, Mrs Newby?’

Oh yes it bloody well is,
Sarah thought.
Especially now he’s given the game away by looking flustered. But will the court allow it, that’s the question?
As calmly as she could, she said: ‘I believe it is highly relevant, my lords. If you allow me just a few questions I believe the relevance will become abundantly clear.’

‘Very well, Mrs Newby. Just as long as we don’t go down too many side alleys.’

‘I am grateful to your lordships. If you could answer the question, Inspector Baxter?’

‘It was a rape case, yes,’ Baxter replied, rather sullenly.

‘Mr Winnick was suspected of rape, was he? In addition to the drug-dealing charge?’

‘He was, yes.’

‘And that was the reason you went there to interview him? Not to talk about drug-dealing, or about Jason Barnes, but about an accusation of rape?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see.’ Sarah studied him coolly. Her fish, she hoped, was almost hooked. ‘So how did the subject of Jason Barnes come up?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Well, Inspector, you say you didn’t know Mr Winnick was even in the same prison as Jason Barnes, let alone in the same cell. And you went there to interview Brian Winnick about rape, a very serious charge. How did you end up talking about Jason Barnes instead?’

Baxter flushed. His liver-spotted hands tightened on the front of the witness stand. ‘Well, it ... he mentioned it, I suppose, because it was such a dramatic thing. I mean, his cellmate had confessed to murder.’

‘Was this before, or after, you discussed the accusation of rape?’

Baxter paused, thinking.
Working out how to get out of the trap
, Sarah thought.
But there’s no exit. The doors are shut at both ends.

‘I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.’

‘Oh come now, Mr Baxter. This was an important moment - a big surprise. A breakthrough in a murder investigation. And you’re saying you don’t remember?’

Baxter glared at her. ‘Of course I remember it. I just don’t remember exactly when it came up, that’s all.’

‘But you spent a lot of time on it when it did come up? You took this statement? That must have taken some time.’

‘Of course, yes.’

‘Did you have time to discuss the rape accusation, too? That was an important matter, as well.’

‘Of course we discussed it.’

‘And what was the result of that charge?’

‘It was later withdrawn.’

‘Oh? Why was that?’

‘The complainant withdrew the accusation.’

‘I see.’ Sarah paused. The atmosphere in the court had changed - everyone was suddenly listening and watching with greater intensity than before. Every tone of voice, every nuance of the witness’s body language, mattered now. Sarah had still not made the obvious accusation - that Baxter had gone to the prison with the deliberate intention of blackmailing Brian Winnick into giving false evidence against Jason Barnes. But the implication was clear to everyone in court.

‘You mean, the woman changed her mind and said she wasn’t raped after all?’

‘In effect, yes.’

‘And you were leading that investigation, were you, Inspector?’

‘I was, yes.’

‘You spoke to this young woman, did you?’

Here it comes
, Sarah thought. She felt the adrenalin surging through her. These were the moments of drama she lived for in court. Lucy’s suspicions were right. Ever since she’d seen Robert Baxter outside court this morning, she’d felt sure of her ground. He hesitated now, shuffling slightly in the witness stand. There was a faint tremor in his liver-spotted right hand.

‘I ... may have done, yes.’

‘May have done, or did?’

‘I believe I spoke to her once, yes.’

‘And was it very shortly after you spoke to her that she withdrew this charge?’

‘Mrs Newby ...’ The senior judge was leaning forward.
Damn,
Sarah thought,
they’re not going to allow it.
She turned away from the witness towards the bench.

‘My Lords, I believe the relevance of these questions is now clear. I seek to establish that my client has been affected by a conspiracy to affect the course of justice. It is my contention that the significance of this alleged confession in Jason Barnes’ trial should be wholly discounted on the grounds that his integrity as a witness was compromised by his role as police informer. As Inspector Baxter has testified, he was so valuable to the police that they were prepared to go to almost any lengths to protect him, including, it appears, putting pressure on a rape victim to withdraw her charge. My client believes that this was done to reward Brian Winnick for supplying the police with a false confession.’

Long before she had finished speaking, Gareth Jones was on his feet beside her. ‘My Lords, I must protest ...’

The senior judge waved him to silence. ‘No need, Mr Jones. Mrs Newby, this is a serious accusation. Do you have any evidence to back it up?’

‘Only this, my Lords. A week after she withdrew her accusation, the young woman, Julia Smith, committed suicide. She left this note, saying the police had let her down.’

She produced four photocopies of a small, handwritten suicide note and passed them to the bench and Gareth Jones. The senior judge turned towards Robert Baxter and read it out.

Sorry Mum, I can’t take it no more. No one believes me, not even the police. They’re all men together, aren’t they? He’s free now, and they’re following me in their cars, just like that Inspector said they would. It’s better like this, honest.

Julie

The court was silent for a moment. Then the judge asked Baxter: ‘Have you seen this before, Detective Superintendent?’

‘It was read out at the inquest, my lords. Medical evidence was offered that the young woman was suffering from a paranoid disorder. The verdict was that she took her own life while of unsound mind. The coroner expressly cleared the police of all misconduct.
As Mrs Newby should know!’

The last words were hissed directly at Sarah, with a venom quite uncommon in a police witness. The big man’s hands shook violently as he spoke.

The judge turned to Sarah, frowning. ‘Is that true, Mrs Newby?’

‘I have a copy of the coroner’s remarks here, my lord.’ She fished the papers out from her bundle. ‘His actual words were:
“although it is clear that Miss Smith harboured a deep sense of resentment against her alleged attacker and the police who investigated her complaint, it is impossible for this court to say whether her resentment was a product of her paranoid mental state or was grounded in fact. It is the strong desire of this and every law-abiding community that the police should investigate each crime impartially, and there has been no conclusive evidence produced before this court to suggest that in Miss Smith’s case, this was not done.”’
I submit, my lords, that the warning in the second sentence, combined with the use of the word
conclusive,
imply that there were, in fact, some doubts in the coroner’s own mind.’

The judges studied her thoughtfully for a moment. Beside her, Gareth Jones spoke up.

‘My Lords, whilst I commend my learned colleague for her ingenuity, I believe we are straying very far from the remit of this court, which is to determine the safety or otherwise of the conviction of Jason Barnes. We are not here to cast unsubstantiated aspersions on the reputation of a retired - and I may add, much decorated - Detective Superintendent.’

‘No we bloody well aren’t.’ The words, shocking in their vindictiveness, came in a low growl from Robert Baxter. All eyes suddenly turned to where he stood, red-faced with anger. His liver-spotted hands gripped the sides of the lectern, and his powerful shoulders hunched as if at any moment he might rip the thing apart and advance on the object of his fury, the slim lady barrister who stood facing him coolly.

Sarah may have looked cool, but she was trembling from her wig to her heels. This is it, she thought, this is the moment when they see that man for what he is. This is old style policing, the big men who got to the top by crushing everyone in their way. We all hoped it was only criminals who suffered, and often it was, but it could also be young girls who stood up to them and accused their precious informants of rape. Or it could be young thugs like my client, who probably did murder Brenda Stokes - only no one could find the body or bully him into admitting it, so what do they do? Smuggle their precious informant into his cell and get him to manufacture an entirely false confession in return for immunity from all other crimes. That’s what’s happened here, isn’t it?

Perhaps.

Certainly Robert Baxter’s display of fury was damaging him. Belatedly, he realised how his outburst had drawn all eyes his way. He drew a deep breath, and loosened his grip on the witness stand.

The lady judge spoke for the first time. ‘I hope that wasn’t meant as a threat, Superintendent Baxter?’

Baxter drew a second deep breath. ‘No, ma’am, of course not. But it comes a little hard at my age, to be wrongly accused of things that were settled so long ago in the past.’

‘Indeed, my lords,’ Gareth Jones cut in mellifluously. ‘Superintendent Baxter is well past retirement age after an extremely distinguished career. His health is not what it was. He should certainly not be treated as if he were on trial here.’

‘Quite.’ The senior judge glanced at the clock. ‘Eleven fifteen. I think perhaps this would be the ideal moment for a short recess. Shall we resume in fifteen minutes?’

When the judges had retired Robert Baxter marched past Sarah without a word. Beside her, Gareth Jones turned to her with a wry smile.

‘For a first timer, you certainly set the place alight, don’t you, Mrs Newby? Are your cases always like this?’

Sarah was feeling slightly sick as the adrenalin ebbed away.
I’ve got to stop doing this,
she thought,
I’ll make myself ill
. With an effort, she summoned up what she hoped was an appropriate grin.

‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘Sometimes it’s really dramatic.’

9. Afternoon in Court

A
S THE day wore on Sarah began to feel better. Last night’s emotional turmoil was forgotten - her energies were wholly focussed on the battle in court. Part of it was pure fear. It would be easy to be humiliated in such august company. Gareth Jones was an eloquent, experienced advocate. His arguments were detailed and precise, sending the lawyers and judges on scavenger hunts through learned tomes, and technical discussions which the senior judge in particular clearly enjoyed. Sarah was no more than an average legal scholar, and more than once she felt a sense of rising panic as she floundered to keep up. Nevertheless, she won the first round. Shortly after lunch, the judges agreed to hear Mr Crosse, Brian Winnick’s solicitor.