Catalyst (26 page)

“Dean, is Lorimar going to plead guilty – you do have some inkling, don't you?”

“Yes, sir – definitely.”

“Definitely you have some inkling or definitely he's going to plead guilty?”

“Both, sir.”

Owen Templar smiled to himself.

“Then what?”

“Sir?”

“Well, that can't be it, surely. We have an audience to satisfy. Somehow I can't believe he says ‘guilty, m'lord' and I say – ‘you're a bad boy and I'm putting you away.' What else?”

“I'll make a plea in mitigation and with your permission, sir, I'd like to call some witnesses to support that plea, as well as questioning the accused himself. I know this is a little unusual – I admit these are not technically character witnesses – but there are precedents… ”

“Okay, that will keep the show on the road, but to what end, Dean? I have to impose a mandatory life sentence – I assume he is going to plead guilty to murder
.
He's not claiming manslaughter, is he, for God's sake? I've seen Prosecution's Exhibits A, B and C – the photos of the three clean head shots. Or self-defence? Mind you, nothing would surprise me today,” he added, half to himself. “The only mitigation can be what happened before the day of the killing, and that only reinforces premeditation.”

“Nevertheless, sir, there is still the subject of parole. And if I could be so bold, I believe an out-and-out condemnation of this man as a cold-blooded killer may be perceived as showing a lack of sensitivity and empathy with the mass of people who have been touched by his act. And should you agree with that point, sir, you will need some evidence to support any conciliatory remarks you choose to make. So with your permission… ”

Justice Templar smiled to himself at the Defence Counsel's gentle prompting, laden with respect, but very much to the point.

“Very well. Penny, were you aware of this? Are you okay with it?”

“I was aware of Dean's intentions in the event of a guilty plea, and I've no objection,” said Penny. “It goes without saying that I reserve the right to cross-examine anyone Dean calls to the stand.”

“Right. And that's it?”

“I believe my client will ask to make a statement from the stand,” said Dean. “He has asked if he can make this
after
sentencing. I have informed him that his only opportunity will be just before you pass sentence.”

“Well, you can always ask. It's unprecedented, but so is everything until it happens the first time. Let's get back in there.”

The court stood again as the judge and two counsels returned.

“Shall we try again, Mr Calvert? Strike three!”

He nodded to the Clerk who restated the charge including the names of all three victims. This time, the accused's hesitation was for effect only, and very brief.

“Guilty, m'lord.”

The courtroom erupted in an explosion of shouts and cheers as people sprang to their feet. Owen Templar shouted for order as both counsels turned to the gallery with gestures for calm. Within a minute people were seated again and a tense stability had returned to the proceedings. The judge repeated his earlier warning to the gallery, but this time more out of procedural protocol than with any real threat.

“I ask you, again, to observe the rules of this court by remaining silent. You are not participants in this process, but observers. You are welcome to be present here in that capacity but, as I stated earlier, I will not tolerate people overstepping the very distinct boundary of their involvement. Thank you.”

With the plea of guilty, several people entered the courtroom who had been waiting to be called as prosecution witnesses. These included DCI David Gerrard and DS Jo Cottrell who sat down together a few rows behind the Prosecution Counsel.

When all the newcomers were seated, the judge turned to the Defence Counsel, opening his arms in a gesture of invitation for him to speak.

“Thank you, m'lord,” said Dean. “I wish to make a plea in mitigation on behalf of my client.”

“Really,” said the judge.

“Yes, m'lord.”

Dean cleared his throat with some drama and addressed the courtroom generally, moving his eyes to all areas to include everyone.

“You see before you a man who has experienced much violence in his lifetime. During a military career spanning one quarter of a century, he has seen service in Northern Ireland, as a teenager, and later, in the special forces, in Iraq, Africa and Afghanistan. This man has put himself at risk in three different continents for the benefit of others with no thought for his own safety – his own life, even. Our country has required him –
ordered
him – to carry out such acts on behalf of the people in this room, people whose lives are safer and more secure as a result of his unquestioning fulfilment of these duties.”

There were mumbles of agreement and support and some gentle hand-clapping from the public gallery. It quickly subsided without the judge's prompting.

“It is against this background and in the context of his alleged crime that… ”

“Not ‘alleged' any more, Mr Calvert,” interrupted the judge.

“Thank you, m'lord, for pointing out that technicality,” said Dean, stiffly. “As I was saying, it is against this background and in the context of his crime that we must judge him. I ask you to consider the frustration of such a man, trained to act, selflessly, for the benefit of the good citizens of this country, finding himself in a situation, threatened with his own life, but with the opportunity, as he saw it, to put right a situation which had brought distress and fear to so many innocent people.

“It is my intention to present a clear picture of the events leading up to, and during, that evening. Because I believe that the provocation faced by James Lorimar at the time, and his previous knowledge of the nature of the three brothers and their heinous acts of local terrorism, are enough to understand, if not condone, his actions. And I believe it is imperative that this should be understood before deciding this man's future. In order to present this picture as objectively as possible, m'lord, I would ask the indulgence of the court in allowing my calling a number of witnesses to set the scene and to recount the story of that fateful evening.”

The judge nodded grandly and benignly, as if bestowing an enormous favour.

“Thank you, m'lord. Call Lucille Ambrose!”

Lucille took the stand.

“Mrs Ambrose, you live at Number 11, St George's Close, on the Cullen Field Estate, is that right?” asked Dean.

“Yes, that's right.”

“And you and your husband were a Mrs Alma Deverall's next-door neighbour for how long?”

“About ten years.”

“And could you describe to the court the problems this elderly lady encountered from the gangs on the estate?”

“Yes, well, a couple of years ago, she reported some lads setting fire to a car on Kingdom Road. They must have seen her watching or found out, because they gave her lots of grief after that. I mean we all got shouted at and jostled and such at times, but this was really personal.”

“What exactly did they do?”

“They wrote really bad words all over her walls and front door, and put dog… you know… stuff through the letter-box. And they smashed in the front door a few times as well. Poor woman. She was beside herself.” Lucille's voice was trembling a little.

“She must have been. How did she react to that?”

“She tried to do herself in – twice.”

There were some gasps from the public gallery followed by whispered conversations.

“Did she not call the police?”

“No, she thought that would make it worse.”

Dean looked around the courtroom with raised eyebrows to reinforce the information. He turned back to Lucille.

“And you believe it was the three brothers who were responsible for this cruel harassment of Mrs Deverall?” asked Dean. Penny let it go; they were only talking mitigation, not proof.

“Well, I didn't actually see them doing anything, but there again, they never did do anything themselves. They just got others to do stuff for them.”

“Quite. Mrs Ambrose, tell us about the man who came to the house to visit her.”

“It was around last September, this man – she said he was a carer – started calling round, about once a week, it was, in the evening.

He seemed to cheer her up no end. We could hear them next door laughing for lots of the time he was there. And then a few weeks later – in October I think – she said she was leaving to stay with friends for a while.”

“And the man who visited Mrs Deverall; do you see him in the courtroom today?”

She glanced across at James Lorimar.

“Well, in all honesty, like I told the lady detective, I never did see him closely, let alone meet him. I couldn't really say for certain that it was the gentleman over there.”

“I should like to state for the benefit of the court, that the man Mrs Ambrose described was indeed the defendant, James Lorimar. Thank you, Mrs Ambrose; no further questions.”

Lucille's evidence was accepted without question by the judge and with no cross examination by Penny Cartwright.

“So here was a case,” said Dean, in summary, as Lucille left the stand, “of an elderly lady whose life had been made, literally, unbearable. And who was saved by the actions of her carer. Whether we accept that the man was her ‘carer' in the occupational meaning of the word, there can be no doubt that ‘carer' certainly described him in its literal sense.”

Dean Calvert next called Alan Venables to the stand.

“Mr Venables is the owner of the apartment, where,” he stated with emphatic emotion, “this unfortunate lady would ultimately take her own life.”

As Alan Venables took the stand, nodding in recognition to the defendant, who returned the greeting in kind, Judge Templar addressed the Defence Counsel.

“Mr Calvert, I am sure we will hear an accurate, perhaps even interesting, description of the circumstances relating to this Mrs Deverall's occupation of this gentleman's property, but can you enlighten me as to how this is relevant to the sentence I am required to pass on the prisoner?”

“If it pleases, m'lord, I am keen to demonstrate the level of support and attention Mr Lorimar extended to this lady, who, as we shall see as the account unfolds, chose to end her life whilst, in effect, still under his care. My view is that you might feel, as I do, that this may have contributed significantly to the action he took. I think the time taken to consider this will be justified, and thanks to the prisoner's guilty plea, the case proceedings will still prove to be a relatively short notwithstanding.”

“Very well. Please proceed, but let us not drag this out simply to fill the time that may have been saved, as you put it.”

Dean turned to Alan Venables.

“Mr Venables, I understand you live at 23B Darlington Road, Hammersmith?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“And is that the address where Mrs Deverall lived in the months leading up to her death?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Please tell the court how she came to take up a short-term tenancy in your apartment.”

“Certainly. Last October I left the country for a three-month expatriate assignment, and advertised the place for rental for that period. Mr Lorimar replied to the ad and Mrs Deverall came along to look at it. She liked it and paid me the three months rent in advance. Actually, I knew her as Mrs Coleridge at the time and Mr Lorimar as Mr Anderson.”

Dean Calvert jumped in quickly.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Venables, that has all been cleared up now. But please tell us, when did you return from your assignment?”

“The middle of April, as it turned out. It got extended for a further three months, and Mrs Deverall stayed on.”

“So that was a period of six months in total. Very briefly, how would you summarise Mr Lorimar's role in all these arrangements?”

“He made it all happen. He answered the ad, sorted out the money side of things and… well, he was still there when I phoned and discovered Mrs Deverall had taken her own life.” He looked down and his eyes clouded over. “Such a shame,” he added.

Alan Venables stepped down and Dean called Henry Blount to the stand. The judge sighed very loudly and raised his eyebrows at the Defence counsel. Dean pretended not to notice and continued.

“Mr Blount, you are the proprietor of Blount of Hammersmith, Undertakers, are you not?”

“Funeral Directors,” he corrected.

“My apologies; Funeral Directors. You were called to 23B Darlington Road to attend Mrs Deverall shortly after she had taken her own life?”

“That is correct.”

“Could you please describe for the court Mr Lorimar's involvement on that day and subsequently?”

“Well, quite simply, he took charge of everything, informed all the appropriate people, paid the fees, decided on the gravestone, where she should be buried – as I say, everything. No-one else was involved.”

“And why was that?”

“Well, apparently Mrs Deverall didn't have any living relatives or close friends. In fact, Mr Lorimar was the only mourner at the funeral.”

“Thank you, Mr Blount, no further questions.” He sat down.

Penny Cartwright got to her feet.

“Mr Blount, you said
apparently
the deceased had no family or friends. And the funeral took place just three days after the death. Is it not rather strange that more of an attempt wasn't made to find any possible contacts before rushing it through so quickly?”

“Don't bother to answer that, Mr Blount.” Owen Templar stepped in and turned to Penny. “I can't begin to imagine how such information will assist me in my deliberations, Ms Cartwright.”

He turned back to Dean Calvert again.

“Is that all, Mr Calvert?”

“For this witness, m'lord, yes. Thank you, Mr Blount. I should like to call two more witnesses who will assist in recounting the events of the evening in question. Perhaps this, allowing for any Prosecution Counsel's questions, may take us a further hour or so…” He paused, enquiringly.