Catalyst (25 page)

“In other words, the legalising, or at least condoning, of vigilantism. And there'll be such a groundswell of feeling that when we get the next Cullen Field type of incident, and then the next, and continue to put the avengers away, it'll get more and more difficult to contain the public's anger.
Un-less
,” he said, drawing out the word, “we convince them that we'll do the job for them.
We'll
identify the bad guys,
we'll
single them out;
we'll
make sure they'll never come back. No more bloody pussy-footing around with sick cowboys – let's start calling them baddies again!”

Grace was smiling wider as his fervour gained momentum. It made him aware that he was getting carried away and repeating what he'd said to her a dozen times before. He stopped; then seemed to think of something else and rose from his chair.

“Oh yes, and at the same time, good old George will become Chief Shop Steward of the… ” he paused to work it out “… NUWF – the National Union of Wrinkled Folk – and he'll lead protest marches to London from as far a field as Eastbourne and Ashford and the deafening sounds of zimmer and wheelchair on tarmac will reverberate around the world, and civilisation as we know it will cease to exist!”

He was striding round the office, staring ahead with demonic eyes and repeatedly pointing into the air to emphasise each point. Grace was laughing more than he had ever heard her laugh before, with that same girly tinkle. He stopped in front of her and wagged his finger in her face.

“You can laugh, Miss Two-Shoes, but when I rule the world, then you'd better watch out!”

“I can't wait,” said Grace, struggling to put on a serious face. “A bit of discipline never did anybody any harm.”

They looked at each other for a long moment in silence. Tom sat back down in his chair still holding Grace's eyes with his.

“I'll remember you said that,” he said.

“I'll remind you if you don't,” she smiled back.

CHAPTER 10

The trial of James Lorimar was to be disproportionately short in relation to its lasting impact outside the court. It did, however, include the drama of a faltering start and a breathtaking conclusion.

The most senior permanent judge at the Central Criminal Court, with the title of Recorder of London, was presiding in the new show-piece courtroom in which the public gallery had been extended to more than three times its original capacity. It could now accommodate up to 100 observers, and every seat was taken. As the courtroom settled, the Honourable Justice Owen Templar QC made a direct appeal to the public gallery. He was a man of medium height and build, made to look larger by the uniform of his office, which ebbed and flowed with his embellished theatrical movements. His features were sharp and distinguished, with bushy white eyebrows which at first sight looked like an extension of his wig. A rimless pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“I am aware,” he said, in a voice which was disproportionately loud for his size, “of the depth of interest in this case throughout the country and the heightened feelings it has stimulated in many people. The presence of so many onlookers outside the court this morning is evidence of that, and the number of people intent on observing this event who have failed to gain access to the public gallery today is unprecedented in my experience. However, I must insist that those privileged to be sitting in witness of the due process of law in this courtroom be good enough to respect their role as silent observers. The defendant will be treated in exactly the same way as any other in his position with no regard for the amount of attention he has attracted outside this court. I am sure I can depend on your cooperation, but in the event that I am proved wrong in that assumption, I will have no hesitation in quickly removing any transgressor from the room.”

There was a respectful nodding from the gallery and people leant forward in their seats in anticipation of the judicial vehicle slipping smoothly into gear. They did not have to wait long for the first stutter of the engine.

The Clerk of the Court began to read the charge.

The Defence Counsel rose to his feet. Dean Calvert was tall, slim and good-looking, but whereas his appearance and posture radiated confidence, he seemed a little hesitant and his face was slightly flushed.

“M'lord, if it pleases the court, before my client is asked to respond to the charge, he respectfully requests that he may make his plea against an alternative charge; that of ‘justifiable homicide'.”

Justice Templar took a long time in responding, dragging out the counsel's discomfort.

“Why on earth should that ‘please the court', as you put it, Mr Calvert? I am sure you are aware – or certainly should be – that such a plea is preferentially available only to members of the police and armed forces in cases where they deem in mitigation that their sworn duty requires such action. How can that possibly apply to the defendant?”

“Mr Lorimar has requested that his case be viewed in such a way, because he acted selflessly on behalf of a community rather than for his own ends. My client believes that, although he received no direct order to carry out the deed, he was driven by the same motives as the aforementioned agencies of law and national security.”

Forgetting, or ignoring, the judge's plea for quiet surveillance, a low muttering spread around the higher tiers of the room.

At this very early stage of the proceedings, the judge showed clear signs of irritation, which he made no attempt to conceal from the packed gallery. He looked sternly around them like a teacher rudely interrupted by a restless class of pupils. A hush returned, and Justice Templar directed his attention back to the Defence Counsel.

“Could you please approach the bench, Mr Calvert, and you too, Ms Cartwright,” turning also to the Prosecution Counsel. Penny Cartwright was almost a head shorter than her opponent and had a rather overly-rounded figure. The large expressive eyes in her pretty, heart-shaped face opened even wider at the summons.

The two counsels duly stood before the judge, who spoke quietly to them, his comments beyond the hearing of the gallery.

“Mr Calvert, I think it is in the interest of public confidence in a system which has already taken a battering as a result of this gentleman's actions, that we avoid any attempts at turning this into a sort of cabaret. You are well aware of the rules relating to a plea of justifiable homicide and did not need me to publicly define them for the benefit of the press. I am sure they will derive some interesting headlines from our little exchange, but let us not assist them any further in doing their job. If you require a brief time out with your client to explain the simplicity of choice regarding his plea, then I will allow it; in fact, I insist on it. But I will not tolerate any more semantic trickery, Mr Calvert. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, m'lord.” Dean Calvert nodded, respectfully.

“And you, too, Ms Cartwright?”

“Yes, m'lord,” said Penny Cartwright.

The two counsels, both duly admonished, and one silently indignant, returned to their respective positions in court.

“Court will adjourn for thirty minutes,” boomed the judge.

“All rise!” The Clerk of the Court.

Justice Templar glided from the room, as the galley became instantly animated and the prisoner was led from the dock to meet with his counsel.

Exactly thirty minutes later, with the accused back in place and all officials in readiness, the judge returned and the court stood again at the prompting of the Clerk. When everyone was settled and duly hushed by his sweeping glare, which seemed to dare anyone to make a noise, he turned again to the Defence Counsel.

“Mr Calvert, have you apprised your client of his very short list of options in responding to the eagerly awaited question?”

“Yes, m'lord.”

“Then let us put it to the test.” He turned to the Clerk of the Court.

“Proceed.”

“James Philip Lorimar, you are charged that on the 7
^th
of May this year, you did wilfully and deliberately shoot to death James Anthony Brady. Do you plead Guilty or Not Guilty?”

The atmosphere in the courtroom was electric. There was no sound at all, but an almost tangible feeling of eager expectancy, which was quickly heightened by the lack of any response from the defendant. After several moments, he turned to his counsel and beckoned him across. Dean Calvert went hurriedly to him and Lorimar bent forward to whisper in his ear. Justice Templar was losing patience; after three quarters of an hour in court, he had failed to extract a plea from the prisoner.

“Am I missing something here?” he said, to the court in general. “Could the Counsel for the Defence perhaps assist me in getting past this normally straightforward and brief stage in the proceedings?”

“Our apologies, m'lord, but my client wishes to know why he has not been asked to plead to all three killings when, I think it is safe to assume, even at this delicate judicial stage, that they were perpetrated simultaneously by the same party, be it by my client, or by person or persons unknown. Also, he points out, that the original charge shortly following his arrest was the killing of all three victims.”

Owen Templar held the barrister's eyes for a full ten seconds before the latter dropped his gaze to the papers in his hand.

“Please approach the bench again, Mr Calvert,” he said in a loud, almost threatening, whisper. “You too, Ms Cartwright.”

They stood before him like naughty children. Again he spoke softly to them but this time he seemed less concerned as to whether their conversation could be heard or not.

“Tell me, have you two met prior to your arriving in court today?” he asked.

The two counsels looked at each other in puzzlement before responding.

“Of course, m'lord.”

“Yes, m'lord.”

“And what did you talk about – when you met previously?”

“I'm sorry,” said Penny. “I'm afraid I don't understand what… ”

The judge interrupted, now lowering his voice.

“The weather, perhaps? The appalling state of the motorways? You see, what I would have
expected
you to talk about were certain aspects of what I personally think is an extremely important case. I am led to believe, in fact, by an even wiser person than me, if you can even dream that such an entity exists, that it is unprecedented in terms of its high profile. Do you not agree that this case warrants that description?”

“Of course, m'lord,” replied Penny. “We are privileged to be… ”

“Then how can it reasonably be that you, Ms Cartwright, have not seen fit to let Defence Counsel know in advance the precise extent of the charge that you are bringing against this man?”

“Well, m'lord… ”

“And, you, Mr Calvert. Why did you not ensure that you had all the information to pass on to your client?”

The Defence Counsel did not attempt to answer the question, but asked one of his own.

“Might we have another word with you in private, m'lord? I do not believe it should be necessary for another adjournment, and I do feel that if the simple issue of the precise charge is resolved, my client will fully cooperate in the expedition of this case.”

“I do hope so,” said the judge. “He seems more interested in exhibition than expedition right now. Very well, fifteen minutes.”

The judge explained that there would be a brief pause in the proceedings but charged everyone to remain quietly in their seats.

Away from the court, and with a gallantry which surprised his opponent, Dean Calvert attempted to mollify Judge Templar.

“I sincerely apologise, sir, for my client's response to the charge and for any confusion over the specific wording. Penny is blameless in this; she did inform me that he would be charged with the one killing and I passed that on to Mr Lorimar. In the absence of his making any objection – or even comment – at the time, I assumed he had accepted this. I believe he will plead guilty to a charge which includes all three killings, and I request that the charge be revised to reflect this. If Penny agrees.”

“Well, Penny?” asked the judge. “I'm not sure why he should be charged with just one under the circumstances, anyway. It's like going back in time twelve years to before the abrogation of double jeopardy. Why exactly did you choose to do that?”

“Because we have no hard evidence, as such. Not even a signed statement from Lorimar. Just information he imparted at an interview, and he said nothing at all after he was cautioned. He could change his mind now about his intention to get rid of the brothers, and I'm not sure what we could do other than pile up circumstantial evidence. To get a conviction from a jury for
this
man I think we'd need more than that. And if we couldn't get ‘fresh and viable' new evidence – as the manual puts it – then it gave us a chance to get a different slant on what we
have
got to bring a further… ”

“But he's obviously going to plead guilty,” said the judge, interrupting and not even bothering to consult Dean Calvert. “He virtually did when he asked for justifiable homicide. He can't suddenly decide he didn't kill them just because we won't change the words.”

“True, sir,” said Penny, “but I certainly wasn't convinced of that
before
the trial started. And I thought it would be easier to bring that second case, if necessary, using that circumstantial evidence again if… ”

“Yes, I do take your point, but it's just confused everybody. God knows, we look like we don't know what the hell we're doing out there. And looks
don't
deceive on this occasion. Now please. Let's get our act together.”

He turned to the Prosecuting Counsel.

“Penny, you will change the charge to include all three victims, right?”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Dean Calvert.