Chapter 50 Leila
Leila
R v Jack Millman
“Your Ladyship, the defense calls Jack Millman to give evidence.”
There’s a slight quiver in my voice as I make this grand declaration; it’s probably only detectable to Julian.
And I hate that he will have noticed it.
He understands the gravity of this moment.
When you’re a defense barrister, the second your client steps into the witness box is always tense.
What will they do? Will they go completely rogue?
Will they undo all your hard work and dig themselves into a hole?
Jack Millman has always wanted his day in court, and in about thirty seconds, he’s going to get it.
Everything has led to this.
The security guard takes Jack from the dock at the back of the court and leads him to the witness box.
Like a dangerous animal being released from his cage.
The jury stare at him as if he could pounce at any moment.
Except Jack doesn’t look like a criminal or a killer.
He looks presentable in the same suit he wore yesterday.
A little more creased than it was then, but still, a million times better than what most defendants turn up in.
His hair is pushed back from his face, which has a day’s worth of stubble on it.
As he steps into the witness box, he nods at the judge, who does not reciprocate the gesture.
He takes the oath and speaks clearly into the microphone. He swears to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Facing me, with his hands placed confidently together in front of him, he takes a deep breath. The silence is deafening.
“Could you give your full name to the court, please?”
“Jack Millman. No middle name.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Mr. Millman, this isn’t in dispute, so I’m allowed to lead. Is it right to say that you live in the building that houses Innocence and Temptation?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Explain to the jury where exactly your flat is located within the building.”
“It’s an attic apartment on the second floor. The ground floor is the Innocence bar. The first floor is the club, Temptation.”
“And what—if any—is the connection between these premises?”
“They’re owned by the same person: Eddie Sorrington.”
“What is your relationship to him?”
“He’s my boss. But he’s also been a friend for many years.”
“What do you do for him?”
“I’m head of security at both establishments. That’s why I live upstairs.”
“How did you come to secure that position?”
“When I came out of prison four years ago, Eddie thought I’d be a good person to head up his security team.”
“At this point, Mr. Millman, to clarify for the jury—you are content for them to know that in 2019, you were convicted of assault, and you spent two years in prison for that?”
“I am, yes.”
“And no application was made by your legal team to prevent the jury from knowing about it.”
“Correct. I have nothing to hide.”
“Very well. So, since then, you’ve been working the security at the clubs. What does that involve?”
“Temptation is an exclusive club with a particular clientele. It’s my job to keep everything moving, ensuring there’s no trouble while maintaining discretion. I work with a small but dedicated team.”
His voice is calm, not too loud. Soothing, almost. He’s articulate. This is good for the jury to hear. So far, so good.
“Mr. Millman, if we could turn to the day of the alleged offense. CCTV has placed you at the beauty salon of Daniella Sorrington, wife of Eddie Sorrington, at around 1:30 p.m.”
“That was me, yes.”
“What was the purpose of that visit?”
“There was something I needed to speak to Eddie about but wasn’t able to. I left and went back home to chill out for a bit until work started.”
“Mr. Millman, at some point, you ended up in your flat with Anton Smythe, who was assaulted. He is now dead, and you’re charged with his murder. You’ve pleaded not guilty. If you have a defense, now is the time to give it.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” he says. “It wasn’t me who killed him.”