Chapter 20
But she also knew how hard it could be to get an appeal case across the line into the ‘for sure’ territory that was needed for a conviction to be found unsafe.
She looked up as Will came into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses, which he set down on the coffee table beside her. He unscrewed the cap, then poured them each a generous serving. ‘How’s it looking?’ he asked.
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Well, there are definitely things that concern me.’
‘Like …?’
‘Like the way they’ve used the burglary against him. He was never charged with it, and yet they’ve made it part of their case.’
‘Have you spoken to him yet?’ he asked, handing her a wine glass.
‘Only briefly, on the phone,’ she said, taking a sip. ‘I’m seeing him tomorrow. And by the way, he calls himself Joe these days.’
‘He’s changed his name?’
‘He’s using his middle name. All approved by probation.’
Will nodded. ‘So do you know what he’s saying?’
‘Not yet, but I know what he said in his police interview back in 2003. He gave a full account, denied it, cooperated fully with the investigation. Volunteered his DNA and semen and agreed to go on an ID parade.’
‘Hmm.’ Will wrinkled his nose. ‘Sometimes that happens, even when they’re guilty.
Some murderers get overconfident and convince themselves they won’t be caught.
It’s also common for them to return to the crime scene and insinuate themselves into the investigation.
Remember Ian Huntley, speaking to the press? ’
‘Yes. I do,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Not that Joe had a chance for any of that. He was pointed out to the police and identified straight away.’
‘Ah, yes. The two eyewitnesses.’ Will paused. ‘So, remind me, who were they?’
‘Carly Benfield and Anthony Norris.’
‘Were they a couple?’
‘Not that I’m aware of. Tony Norris lived at number fourteen, which was across the road from Christy’s next-door neighbour, Brenda. Carly Benfield was a few doors down on the same side as Christy, at number twenty-three. But they both saw Joe leaving Christy’s house at around nine forty-five.’
‘So, what were they doing out in the street at that time of night?’
‘Putting out the bins.’
‘Both of them?’
‘The next day was bin collection day.’
‘And how dark would it have been?’
‘Completely. It begins to get dark at eight thirty in early May.’
Will considered this. ‘Was a Turnbull direction given?’
Sarah nodded. ‘The judge ran through the guidelines in his summing-up. Distance. Visibility. Obstruction. How long they had him in sight. Whether they’d seen him before and how often, and all the other stuff – “An honest witness may be wrong, even if they are convinced they are right; a convincing witness may still be wrong …” blah blah blah.
He covered it all. But their evidence was accepted. ’
‘Juries like eyewitnesses,’ Will murmured. ‘They like nothing more than a human being standing in front of them, pointing a finger.’
They fell silent, both thinking.
‘We need to eat,’ Will said at last, rubbing his temples. ‘What do you fancy?’
Sarah turned her gaze towards him, but Will could see her mind was elsewhere.
‘Go on,’ he said. ‘What is it?’
‘Remember when I went to put our bins out on Sunday evening and neither of us could remember whether it was the week for rubbish or recycling?’
Will nodded.
‘Well, it was too dark for me to be able to see what colour bins everyone had put out, not even Jill’s next door. I had to go back inside to get my phone and put on the torch.’
‘I suspect it would be easier to identify a person. And the street lighting may have been better.’
‘But it would still have to have been pretty dark. They both said he turned right out of Christy’s front garden and went east towards Telford Avenue, in the opposite direction from where they were standing. So how could they have seen the colour of his eyes?’
Will frowned. ‘Read the description for me again.’
Sarah tapped the trackpad on her laptop and brought her summary of the evidence back up.
‘Medium build, approximately six feet tall, in his late twenties to early thirties with mousy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Blue jeans, blue jumper. A few other things, but basically they were describing Joe. If you look at the online photos of him, his eyes are unmistakably blue and piercing, but I don’t think they would have stood out in the dark. ’
‘Any inconsistencies in their statements?’
‘No. They both said the exact same thing. That was part of the grounds for his first appeal, in fact. His lawyers said their statements were too similar, the suggestion being that they had talked before giving their statements, or that someone had coached them. But there was no foundation for that suggestion and the Court of Appeal threw it out.’
‘What reason might they have had to lie, or to convince themselves it was Joe?’
‘Well, the burglary. They believed he’d done it,’ Sarah reminded him. ‘They were all het up that the police still hadn’t caught anyone for it. Joe was the newcomer to the street. Seems a lot of people thought it was him.’
‘Was there any evidence to support that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sarah said. ‘But I’ve drafted a disclosure application and I’ve asked for the police file.’
‘On the burglary?’
‘Yes. It wasn’t made available to his lawyers during the original trial.’
‘You think they’ll give it to you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Sarah put down her papers. ‘But I think they ought to. The prosecution have painted a pretty good picture of a man on the prowl.’