Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
There was one week to go until Anthony Winstanley’s trial began at Sheffield Crown Court.
In the six months while he’d been held on remand at HMP Starling House, Anthony had lived in isolation following his severe beating by inmates on Christmas Day.
He’d been exempt from working duties and spent his days in his cell, reading, or out in the exercise yard sitting by himself, taking in the cool fresh air.
He rarely spoke to anyone, and his already fragile mental health was suffering even more.
Nobody noticed this more than his mother.
Without fail, Pauline visited her son once a fortnight.
Their first meeting after his attack, they both cried.
His bruises had faded, but the scars from the stitches were still evident.
On the following visit, Anthony was quiet and withdrawn.
He sat back in the hard plastic chair, playing with his fingers, barely making eye contact with his mum.
On the third visit, Pauline noticed he’d lost weight.
When she questioned him about it, he blamed the bland food.
Anthony spoke fewer words with each visit that followed and the weight was falling off him at an alarming rate.
Anthony had always been big. When he was born, he weighed just shy of ten pounds.
By the time he started infant school he was head and shoulders taller than all the other kids and weighed significantly more than any of his classmates.
Doctors said he was just big for his age.
Now, incarcerated, alone and lonely, Anthony had lost half his body weight. He looked gaunt.
Under the guidance of his solicitor, Jennifer Ripley, Anthony was to plead not guilty to the rape and murder of Alice Patterson.
Every time she went to see him, he began every meeting by telling her he was innocent.
She always told him she knew the truth and that made him smile, gave him hope that he would soon return home to his mum, to his own bed.
When Jennifer walked in this time, with a tall, severe-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neat beard, Anthony recoiled. She did not seem to be the friendly solicitor he’d come to know well over the past six months.
‘Anthony, I’d like you to meet Ronald Montgomery. He’s your barrister. He’ll be representing you in court.’
‘I thought you were representing me in court,’ Anthony said, looking up at both of them.
‘No,’ she said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘I explained all this to you. A barrister represents us, our case, in court to the judge and the jury.’
Ronald pulled out the chair next to Jennifer, hitched up his trousers, and sat down. ‘Anthony, may I call you Anthony?’ he asked slowly. His voice was loud and deep with just the hint of a northern accent.
‘Yes,’ Anthony said, looking slightly scared at this formidable man of authority.
‘Your solicitor, Jennifer, is specialised in many areas. She can advise people like you in all kinds of things but, when it comes to working within a court room, I’m the best man for the job.’ He gave Anthony a grin which revealed a full set of straight white teeth.
‘Anthony,’ Jennifer took over. ‘Ronald and I have been going over your case in great detail. The evidence against you is quite substantial.’
‘What does that mean?’
Ronald cleared his throat. ‘It means that the prosecution … the other side, have a lot of evidence that could swing in their favour. If the jury finds you guilty and you say you’re not guilty, it will likely result in a longer prison sentence for you. You may want to consider pleading guilty.’
‘But I’m innocent,’ Anthony said as Jennifer looked down at the floor.
Once more, Ronald cleared his throat. He crossed his legs at the knee.
Jennifer leaned forward. ‘Anthony, from the point of view of the court, it’s sometimes better to plead guilty in order to get a reduced sentence.’
‘I didn’t do it,’ he said, his eyes welling up.
‘Anthony, the case against you is very strong,’ Ronald said.
‘You have no alibi for the time of the murder. You have a history with the victim and police have a witness who puts you in the right location at the time of the murder. As this is a sexually motivated crime, all the fingers point to you as being the killer. In our corner, we have one police officer putting her career on the line saying your confession was coerced – dragged out of you. We have already had that plea thrown out. What we need is firm proof of where you were on the night Alice Patterson was killed, and you can’t give us that. ’
‘I was watching the storm.’
‘With no witnesses.’
‘I didn’t do it.’
‘I don’t want to hear that,’ Ronald stated. ‘It would be in your best interest to plead guilty and get a lighter sentence.’
‘Anthony.’ Jennifer took Anthony’s hands in hers.
‘If you’re found guilty, you could spend the rest of your life in prison.
If you plead guilty and show that you’re sorry for what happened, we could have the charge put down to manslaughter rather than murder and you could be out within five or six years. ’
Anthony’s eyes widened. Despite Jennifer’s soft voice and reassuring smile, all he heard was spending five or six years in prison. A tear rolled down his cheek. ‘I didn’t kill her. I didn’t hurt Alice.’
Ronald sighed loudly. ‘Anthony, we go to court in a week.’ His voice was growing in volume and severity. ‘You need to decide whether you want to spend the rest of your life in prison or just the next few years. And you need to decide right now.’
Anthony swallowed his tears. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his oversized jumper.
‘I’m innocent, though.’
‘No offence, Anthony, but that’s not what’s important here. My job is to get you the least amount of time in prison.’
‘But if the jury say I’m not guilty then I’ll go home.’
‘It is highly unlikely the jury will find you not guilty. The truth of the matter is you’re going to prison. For how long is all down to you.’
‘I liked Alice. I really liked her. I would never have hurt her. I didn’t do it,’ Anthony sobbed.
‘I don’t need to hear this,’ Ronald said, standing up.
He headed for the door. Jennifer ran after him.
‘Ron, wait.’
He turned to her and lowered his voice. ‘There is no way in the world I’m putting Anthony in the witness box. He’s a loose cannon.’
‘Look, I know he didn’t do it, but I know the evidence says otherwise.
However, it is all circumstantial. The witnesses the prosecution are putting forward are all women whose reputations can be called into question.
You can tear their statements apart, I know you can.
Once that falls, they have nothing. There is no physical evidence to put Anthony in the woods at the same time as Alice Patterson.
Let him plead not guilty. We can win this. ’
Ronald and Jennifer held eye contact for a long time before Ronald turned on his heel and left the room.
His famous poker face gave nothing away.
Jennifer didn’t know if he was still planning to fight for them or if he’d walked out and she was in need of a new barrister with less than a week to go to trial.
She turned back and looked at Anthony. He stared at her with big, hopeful eyes. He was putting all his faith, his future, in Jennifer’s hands. She had never been more scared in her life than she was right now.