Chapter 54 Leila
Leila
R v Jack Millman
“She came out from the bedroom into the lounge,” Jack tells the court, everyone now gripped by his evidence.
“What was Anton’s response to this?” I ask him.
“He was shocked. Panicked.”
“Can you describe what you mean by this?”
“He backed away from me with the knife and…stared at her. He realized someone else had heard the conversation about Quinn.”
“Did he recognize X? Were they known to each other?”
Jack pauses for a few seconds. I can see he’s mulling something over.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he says firmly, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think so.”
“What happened next?”
“It was as if he lost it. He started ranting and raving about how I’d set him up by hiding someone in the room.
I pointed out he was the one who’d surprised me—that it was his son who had committed a crime—but he wouldn’t listen.
He was shouting, ‘Give me your phone, I want your phone!’ In the moment, I told him I hadn’t been able to find it for hours. ”
“How did he react to that?”
“He lunged at me again, and we ended up fighting in the kitchen area. He pushed me onto the sideboard, knocking a bottle of Coke that had been on a shelf over me.”
“To confirm, this would account for the brown stain we saw on your T-shirt when you were arrested?”
“Yes,” he says. “It was all down my T-shirt.”
“And can you tell the jury why your T-shirt was on inside out and back to front?”
“I was in a compromising position when Anton came round. I’d rushed to cover myself up.”
“Thank you for that, Mr. Millman. Where was X when you were fighting in the kitchen?”
“She was behind him, screaming at him to stop.”
“At some point, around this time, Mr. Smythe’s phone records reveal he went into his FaceTime app for thirteen seconds. Can you account for this?”
“I don’t know if that’s what he did, but when he was ranting, he got his phone out. It might have been then. He didn’t talk to anyone, though.”
“What happened next?”
“Mr. Smythe carried quite a bit of weight and was able to pin me over the counter. The knife was inches away from my neck when, suddenly, he collapsed.”
“How did that happen?”
“She…X…hit him on the head with the kettlebell.”
I leave it for a few seconds before continuing.
“How did she react?”
“She was shaking. Scared. But she did it to protect me. She thought he was going to kill me. I knew it was bad straightaway. He keeled over and started bleeding from his nose. Neither of us knew what to do.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her to leave. She’d never been in trouble before. Her whole world would collapse if she was found there. She protected me, now I’m protecting her.”
He aims the statement directly at the jury. It’s powerful, but what they make of it is anyone’s guess.
“And the kettlebell?”
“She’d grabbed the nearest thing she could. I think she put it back. You don’t understand how quickly things happened. She’s not like me. She doesn’t deserve this.”
He’s a genuine, caring person. None of this is an act.
“Mr. Millman, Quinn Smythe has alleged that you have been harassing him. What do you have to say about this?”
“If by harassing he means urging him to come clean about causing the death of an innocent lad, then yes, I have.”
I momentarily turn to the jury to see how they’re receiving this. As far as defendants go, he comes across as honest.
But this evidence sounds far-fetched and ludicrous.
“Earlier in the day on September 6,” I continue, “you visited Eddie Sorrington at the Electric Dreams salon. What was the purpose of that visit?”
“I told Quinn when I went to see him at Diamond Lounge that if he didn’t go to the police by 12 p.m. the following Friday I’d tell Eddie myself. I’d given him enough time.”
“But you didn’t tell him, going by what happened in court today, did you?”
“No. He was busy, and I didn’t want to rush it. I needed to find the right time, and that wasn’t it. The second I saw Daniella, Lewis’s mum, I couldn’t do it. They’d been through enough—I couldn’t find the words. Quinn should have been the one to tell them, or the police.”
He’s finding this painful. He takes a second to catch his breath and rubs his eyes before straightening, ready for more questions.
“One last thing, Mr. Millman. What happened to your phone? Everything you’ve said could be proved by the content on it.”
“I wish I knew. All I know is that I last had it around 7 p.m. on the night of September 6 and then it vanished. That phone would prove what I’m saying is true.”
“Mr. Millman, why didn’t you say anything about this in your interview?”
“I’ve always wanted to tell the truth, but feared I wouldn’t get a fair trial because of the powerful people involved. I wanted the jury to hear the full story, not one with pieces of evidence conveniently going missing, like last time.”
“You’re referring to the conviction in 2019 when you were convicted of Section 20 grievous bodily harm?”
“Yes. That case also involved high-profile prosecution witnesses.”
“You’re also aware, are you not, that by not mentioning this defense before today, the jury will be entitled to draw an adverse inference against you while considering their verdict? They will be permitted to conclude that failure to disclose this defense before now is an indication of your guilt.”
His eyes glance down for a moment, to his hands. He lets out a deep breath.
“I’ll take that risk. I’m not prepared to tell you who she is. I love her, and that night she saved my life. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to save hers.”
I give his last words a moment to rest with the jury.
“Mr. Millman, thank you for your evidence. My learned friend will have some questions for you.”
That’s putting it lightly. Julian is going to love this.