Chapter 44 Leila
Leila
R v Jack Millman
The first prosecution witness is DCI Brady, the kind of man who always looks as if he never has to be anywhere.
Whenever I’ve seen him throughout this investigation, including at the site visit, he has the appearance of someone who’s just rolled out of bed.
Even now, as he hauls himself into the witness box to give evidence in this trial, I wonder how he didn’t think even to fasten his suit jacket.
His belly is spilling out of his trousers.
I am not deceived, however, by his appearance. DCI Brady is a fierce detective. He leads the biggest investigations for a reason. Nothing gets past him. He is not good for us.
The jury scrutinizes the first witness as he takes the oath to tell the truth. Of course, they will trust everything he says because he is a police officer—and a senior one at that.
Julian walks him through the formalities first, but we all know what’s coming.
“Could you please tell the jury what happened on the night of Friday, September 6, 2024?”
“Yes,” DCI Brady says loudly, turning toward the jury.
He is a pro at this. “At 11:07 p.m., a 999 call was received from the landline at Temptation from the defendant informing the authorities that a man had been seriously hurt, and the identity of that man was His Honor Judge Smythe. I attended the scene at 11:23 p.m.”
“To confirm: the defendant himself reported this?”
“He did.”
“Would you usually attend the scene of an assault of this type?”
“No, I would not. I’d normally come on board to a murder investigation at a later stage. But I was called upon to do so in this case as a senior member of the judiciary had been seriously harmed.”
“Can you tell us what happened when you arrived, please?”
“We located the defendant on the second floor of the building. The door to his apartment was open and no force was required to gain entry.”
The defendant. Jack has been reduced to a thing, not worthy of a name. Cementing with the jury early on that he’s worthless and, in turn, guilty.
“Can you describe the scene to us upon arrival?”
“The victim was in the lounge, lying on his back, being assisted by paramedics.”
“If I could stop you there, please. Dear members of the jury, if you would kindly turn to tab one in your jury bundle, you’ll see a layout of the flat.”
A flurry of activity takes place within the jury box, as everyone scrambles to find the map. They feel part of this now, you can tell. He’s locked them in. We’re in this together, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s convict the bastard who killed this loving husband and father.
“Does everyone have sight of that document now?” Julian asks the jury, flashing that dashing smile he reserves for occasions such as this.
The women on the jury nod, and going by the look in their eyes, would be prepared to convict Jack right now based on virtually no evidence if it meant they could have just one night of uninhibited passion with my husband.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s not even lunchtime yet.
“DCI Brady, please explain the layout to us.”
“As you can see, it’s a very small flat. The front door leads directly into an open living room–kitchenette area. Just off the main room is one bedroom, which contains an en-suite bathroom. It’s almost like a studio.”
“Can you tell us where the victim was when you found him?”
“Yes. He was on the floor, with his head nearest to the front door, about five feet away. His feet were in the kitchen.”
“So, he was effectively half in the lounge, half in the kitchen area?”
“That’s correct.”
“Where was the defendant?”
“He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, waiting for us,” he confirms in a hard, Geordie accent. His hands are clasped together in front of him. It’s a serious, dominant stance.
“How far away from the victim was he?”
“Maybe six feet?”
“And the defendant was making no attempt to help the victim?”
“My Lady,” I interrupt, “counsel is leading the witness.”
The judge glances at Julian before turning her eyes back to me.
“Mr. Kesler, would you like to rephrase the question?”
Julian pauses. I know what he’s thinking. He hates being interrupted when he’s questioning a witness.
“DCI Brady, what was the defendant doing when you walked in?” Julian asks the question now in a painfully exaggerated way, letting everyone know how irritated he is. It’s clever, too, because the jury will think I’m petty and overly concerned with semantics.
“He was making no attempt to help the victim,” DCI Brady says, straight to the jury.
I get it. It’s them against me. Against us.
“What state was the victim in?” Julian continues.
“He had blood coming out of his nostril. It looked like he’d been—”
I rise for the second time.
“Your Ladyship.”
“DCI Brady,” the judge bellows. “Please do not speculate. We will hear from medical professionals in due course regarding Mr. Smythe’s injuries.”
He nods in compliance but is obviously furious. He looks at Julian, and they share a moment of irritation. DCI Brady strikes me as the kind of man who does not like being told what to do by a woman.
“Was he alive when you saw him?” Julian asks.
“Only just, but yes.”
Julian takes the jury through the gruesome part of looking at photos from the scene.
“DCI Brady, may I bring your attention to an item found at the scene which the jury can find at tab five in their bundles,” he goes on, confidently. “Your Ladyship, permission to admit into evidence exhibit PB1. DCI Brady, can you please describe this for the jury?”
“It’s a ten-kilogram kettlebell,” he confirms.
“My Lady, I am content for the statement produced by the defense to be admitted into evidence at this stage. It is a statement that confirms the kettlebell was permanently used as a doorstop in the defendant’s apartment.
The kettlebell is the weapon that caused the fatal blow to Mr. Smythe, and the jury will hear expert evidence regarding this in due course. ”
Great work from Davina, securing that statement.
“That’s where you found the kettlebell when you arrived?” Julian goes on. “As per these photographs, holding the door open?”
“It is.”
“What’s the distance between the kettlebell in situ and the body?”
“It was about seven feet.”
“So, he would have used the weapon and then returned it to its original place?”
“An odd sequence of events, but yes.”
“And—this isn’t in dispute, so I’m permitted to lead—can you confirm that no fingerprints have been recovered from this item?”
“That’s correct. They’d been wiped.”
“What happened after you located the defendant?”
“He was arrested on suspicion of attempted murder.”
“How did he react?”
“Calmly. You wouldn’t have thought he’d just been arrested for such a serious offense. He was compliant and polite. He made no comment to the caution and came willingly into custody.”
Julian takes the witness through the police procedure at the station; being checked in, having DNA samples and photos taken.
The jury are directed to further exhibits in the jury bundle showing how Jack looked when he was arrested.
You can see them thinking, Is this the face of a man who, only an hour earlier, killed another person?
“Were you able to secure his mobile telephone?”
“Unfortunately, no. In most cases, this offers us a window of insight, but we were unable to seize the defendant’s mobile phone, and to this date, it has never been found.”
It sounds bad and it is bad. DCI Brady emphasizes the last part, so the jury can clock just how dodgy the whole thing is.
“Now, there was a significant development in this case after the defendant had been brought into custody, wasn’t there?
” Julian inquires, leaning against the back bench, arms folded.
Occasionally, he strokes his chin while nodding his head.
He’s hit his stride now. The confidence of the man is staggering.
I don’t think I’ve ever leaned against that bench my entire legal career. It’s very male behavior.
“Yes. At 1:54 a.m., we received the news that the victim had died and, as a result, the attempted murder investigation became a murder investigation. The defendant was informed of this, and we interviewed him under caution. He requested a legal representative from Jessops.”
“Can you please recite the caution for the jury?”
“Certainly: ‘You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’ ”
“And did he cooperate in the interview?”
“No, he did not,” DCI Brady confirms, shaking his head. “He gave no-comment answers to everything asked of him.”
“What was the result of this?”
“We felt we had sufficient evidence to charge Jack Millman with the murder of Anton Smythe, so that’s what happened.”
“Thank you, DCI Brady. I have no further questions.”
Julian sits back down on the creaky bench, struggling to hide that Cheshire Cat grin I know he wants me to see.
Now it’s my turn.