Chapter 60
Through security for the last time. Well, if Matthew has anything to do with it. He can see no need for jury deliberations to last longer than the morning. Now he’s got Emma on-side, it’s going to be a breeze.
The heady optimism carries him up the stairs and into the jury room where he’s brought back down to earth with a thud.
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,’ Dharam says, ‘and I’m very concerned. I don’t think that we can decide to impose our own verdict like that and say that we think she’s got diminished responsibility. We would be completely disregarding the oath that we made.’
‘I agree,’ Jasmine says. ‘Though to be fair, I’m concerned about it.
I’ve been thinking about it all night. Perhaps we could put a question to the judge about it, ask them to expand on why it wasn’t further explored?
Also, we could ask about this business of finding a verdict according to our conscience? ’
Matthew swallows down the tide of panic that threatens to submerge him. No questions to the judge; anything but that. He can’t risk his machinations being exposed in this way. It would be a catastrophe.
‘I have a feeling this only applies in English law,’ Neil says. ‘I did some googling last night.’
Everyone’s heads turn to him, a current of electricity running through them.
‘We’re not an independent country yet,’ Elliot says. ‘Different legal systems, maybe, but the underlying principles are still the same.’
Annoying voice or not, Matthew could kiss him.
‘This is all getting a bit out of hand,’ Dharam says.
He’s looking very worried, his face tight.
Internet research, jury members going off piste – it’s no surprise.
As foreman he’s completely lost control.
The last thing Matthew needs is for him to try and change this, though. He’s got to think of something to say.
Inspiration strikes. ‘How about this? Not proven. We could say not proven. Then it isn’t completely that she’s got away with it. But we can avoid convicting her given how unhappy we feel about her mental health.’
As one, the jurors seem to relax, sinking back in their chairs. It’s clear that no one wants to be the cause of a retrial.
‘Who agrees with a not proven verdict?’
Hands go up round the table. Not everyone.
But Matthew looks round with a growing sense of excitement.
Emma’s is up from the start, Neil and Russell soon follow.
More. Six, seven. A little hesitation, and Jasmine raises hers.
Dharam nods, puts his up. That’s nine. More than half. He’s done it. He’s brought them round.
They have a verdict.
‘What about Eliza?’ Dharam says. ‘Would we say not proven for her as well?’
Matthew shakes his head. ‘I think this one is a little more complicated. Or actually, less. We’re not saying that Isobel didn’t do what’s alleged, after all.
We’re just saying it’s not proven because we’re not convinced that she was mentally competent at the time or even now.
Diminished responsibility, after all. But Eliza – there’s nothing wrong with her as far as anyone can tell. ’
Emma nods. ‘I’ve been thinking about it.
You all know I was so in favour of Eliza, hated Isobel.
I thought about it a lot last night, though, and I’ve changed my mind.
I agree that Isobel isn’t well. She’s got tricky parents as well – that mother who seems to hate her, the weird father who believes in magic or whatever it is he does as well.
What’s Eliza’s excuse? She’s there blaming Isobel for everything, but what if it was all her? What if she did go at Christian?’
Jasmine shakes her head. ‘I think that if we’re saying it’s not proven against Isobel, when there really is evidence against her, it’s not very fair to say that Eliza is guilty.’
‘Does fairness come into this?’ Russell says. ‘She’s done everything she can to project the blame away from herself. Maybe Eliza is the one most to blame?’
Matthew’s intentions have taken on a life of their own. He’s lit the fire, and now he doesn’t even need to fan the flames.
‘It’ll look really perverse if we find the case not proven against Isobel but yet find Eliza guilty,’ Dharam says. ‘I don’t think we can justify that verdict. Unless we are saying that we believe Eliza is lying.’
Emma. ‘Maybe she is. I’ve never trusted that butter-won’t-melt expression of hers.’
Matthew’s head is buzzing. He could laugh at Emma’s volte-face, but it’s too useful for him.
Besides, he’s out of energy now. The lack of sleep is finally catching up with him.
He had one mission, to have Isobel found not guilty, and this has been achieved, best as he can.
Not proven isn’t exactly what was demanded, but it’s close enough.
He stares over at the wallpaper, waiting for the face to reveal itself again, show its approval, or whether it thinks he should do more.
Nothing. It must be all right. His work here is done. He sits back and lets the arguments continue. He’s got no skin in this game.
They break for coffee. Under the supervision of a security guard, those that wish to smoke are accompanied to an inner courtyard. Matthew elects to go with them to get some fresh air.
‘This is not what I thought jury deliberations would be,’ Nicola says in a low voice, the smoke from her Marlboro billowing into his face.
‘What did you think they’d be like?’
‘Professional. This feels just like someone is making it up as they go along.’
‘I suppose we are,’ Matthew says. ‘Maybe that’s the issue with the rules against revealing what’s said.
How can anyone ever know what a jury’s motivation is in finding a particular verdict when nothing about it can ever be revealed and there’s no accountability?
All sorts could happen and no one would be any the wiser. ’
‘I guess there’s a reason why there’s only a one per cent conviction rate for rape,’ she says, sucking on her cigarette.
‘I don’t know anything about that,’ Matthew says. ‘But I think I’d prefer to be tried by a jury than by a judge alone.’
Nicola turns to face him, looks him up and down. For a moment he can see what she sees – a white upper-middle class man in a suit. She smiles at him, not altogether kindly. ‘I suppose you would.’
Back inside. Time is ticking along and they’re still arguing.
Matthew continues to sit it out, worried that he might undermine the not proven that’s locked in for Isobel.
It’s between Jasmine and Nicola now – Nicola’s of the view that Eliza is definitely guilty, Jasmine that fairness trumps all and the verdict for her should be not proven too.
Elliot pipes up. ‘I wouldn’t mind if we can finish by lunch time,’ he says. ‘There’s a matinée on at the Festival Theatre which I’d like to see.’
No one takes issue with this. They all seem fed up.
‘Let’s put it to a vote,’ Dharam says. ‘We can see where we’ve got to now. Everyone for Eliza being found guilty, please raise your hand.’
Four go up immediately, Nicola’s waved the most vigorously, the others more slowly. That’s it.
‘And for not proven.’
Four again. Still five left to decide. Only a couple of votes needed either way. Matthew hasn’t yet raised his hand.
‘I really don’t think it’s fair that Isobel should get away with it and not Eliza,’ Sarah Thompson says. She’s one of the youngest in the room, has barely said a word throughout the entire proceedings. ‘I say not proven for her too.’
Five votes for not proven. Only three votes needed now.
‘I can’t really argue with that,’ Roderick says. ‘I feel sorry for Christian’s family, but we need to think of the living here. Not the dead. Even if they did do it, I don’t think they’ll ever do anything like this again. They’re so young. They can learn.’ His hand goes up.
Two votes more. Then it’s over.
Flashes before his eyes, the face leering from the wallpaper.
Eliza’s smile floating in the room, a grim parody of the Cheshire cat.
She’s laughing, an ugly, jeering sound that cuts through him.
She can’t get away with this – it’s obvious to him now what he needs to do.
The Devil’s instructions are fully clear.
Not just get Isobel off, but ensure that Eliza’s locked up. The punishment she deserves.
‘I’m sorry, I think she’s guilty. We need to think about Christian, too,’ Matthew says. ‘Justice for her family.’ He raises his hand. Only one vote to go.
Emma looks at him. Looks away. She clears her throat. ‘I’m going to change my vote,’ she says. ‘I think Matthew is right. There needs to be some kind of justice. My verdict is that Eliza is guilty.’
Back in court. The public gallery is full, the atmosphere electric, tension crackling all around.
Matthew catches Gill’s eye, looks away. There’s a throng of schoolgirls near the back of the room, all wearing witches’ hats.
He’s surprised they haven’t been kicked out.
Christian’s parents are in the front row, their faces grey and tight.
This matters, it really matters. The reality of it starts to hit him.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, who speaks for you?’ the clerk asks. Dharam gets to his feet.
‘Have you decided upon your verdict in this case?’
‘We have.’
‘What is your verdict on the charge against the first-named accused, Eliza Lawson?’
‘Guilty.’
A gasp from the public gallery, sparks of nervous excitement in the air. The judge’s face is inscrutable.
‘Is that guilty of murder?’
‘Yes.’
‘And in the matter of the charge against Isobel Smyth, what is your verdict?’
‘Not proven.’
The judge starts to speak, but it’s drowned out by a great cry from the public gallery, a thud. A woman screams. A commotion all around her.
‘He’s down, my husband’s down! Somebody help us.’
‘Is there a doctor here? Quick, we need a doctor!’
Matthew feels hands pulling at him, pushing him. Before he knows it, he’s standing in front of the patient. Eliza’s father, slumped on to the ground.
‘Help him. Somebody help him! Is there anyone here that knows CPR?’
Neil and Russell are shaking at Matthew’s arm, shouting at him. ‘Come on, you’re the heart surgeon, you know what to do.’
That’s when the buzzing starts. The darkness, too, black rearing up to swallow him. He holds his hands up in front of him, his useless, helpless hands.
Then he collapses to the floor.