Dan rose to his feet.
The judge had taken a break after all the evidence had been given, just to allow the jurors to refresh themselves before the closing speeches.
This was it, the crucial part. Cases are never won on the questioning. They’re just the groundwork for the closing speech. No one has ever collapsed under the strength of cross‑examination. For the prosecution, no defendant has ever crumbled and wailed a confession, unable to escape the trap set by the prosecutor. For the defence, no police officer has ever pointed to the dock and urged the judge to release a man they now think is innocent.
No, cross-examinations are about the cold sweat, where gaps are left, inconsistencies found, lies exposed, but they are never admitted. The closing speech is where those moments are stitched together and made into a new whole. Minds are changed, perceptions altered, a new truth emerges.
The prosecutor had given his speech, a short repeat of the opener, pointing out that the only person with any connection to the dead body was Nick Connor. He had Mark’s blood on his trainers, his stolen wallet burnt to a charred mess in his garden, along with the clothes he must have been wearing. Two plus two equals four, nice and neat. There wasn’t much else he could say.
Dan had to make it look different.
He looked back to Nick Connor, who wore the stress of the trial in the tight purse of his lips and the sheen of perspiration visible under the courtroom lights. Beyond that, there was Barbara, who gave Dan a smile. He knew what it meant: make this count.
He turned back to the jury and frowned.
‘A man died,’ he began, his voice soft and solemn. ‘Mark Roberts was the victim of a vicious assault, beaten by a blunt instrument and left to die in a pool of his own blood. No regard for his body or his memory or whatever his life had meant to those closest to him. An awful crime, clearly committed by an extremely violent person, because the violence was so extreme. Hit with a blunt instrument, again and again, numerous head injuries until his face was no longer recognisable. I don’t need to remind you too much of that, as the images presented to you will stay with you for the rest of your life. You must separate those emotions of horror and anger, and perhaps even a desire for revenge, and ask yourself this question: is Nick Connor the man who did that?’
He twisted his body so he could point towards the dock, making the jurors look with him, towards Nick.
‘Nick Connor is what some might call a career criminal. A petty thief. A headache for the local police.’ He raised an eyebrow and gave them a faint smile. ‘I would not recommend him as a neighbour. But is he a murderer? We’ve heard about his character, but nothing that suggests he is violent.’
He turned back to the front and spoke with more authority. ‘What actual evidence is there? Some of Mark Roberts’s property was found at Nick Connor’s home. Some of the victim’s blood was on his clothes. The wallet was burnt to a charred lump. He sold the victim’s debit cards. How do you think all that happened? A robbery gone wrong? That’s the prosecution theory. Or just a lowlife petty criminal stealing property belonging to a dead man? If you think the second option, that he stole from a murder victim, either discarded by a killer with no interest in the contents of a wallet, or even by Nick Connor picking the dead man’s blood-soaked pocket, you’d be entitled to despise him. Can you imagine anything more callous or heartless? Probably not. But, members of the jury, Nick Connor isn’t on trial for stealing a dead man’s property. He is on trial for murder: the prosecution has asked you to conclude that he must be the murderer because he is a thief. But is that right?’
The jurors were watching him carefully. Some with their heads cocked, interested, intrigued, while others made notes.
Dan held out his hands. ‘Have you heard any evidence of blood spatter on the clothes the police recovered? The answer is no. Have you heard anything about Nick Connor hanging around Queensgate Park, waiting for a mugging victim? The answer is no. Have you heard of any connection between Nick Connor and Mark Roberts? Once again, no. Where’s the murder weapon? The answer? Not at Nick Connor’s home.’
He leaned on the desk by putting out one hand, in an effort to look relaxed. Every one of his stances was designed to present a mood, to let the jurors see what he was seeing.
‘Think about it, members of the jury. Can you imagine a scenario where a thief, when presented with the chance to make a quick few quid, won’t take the wallet? Do you think that a thief who has been the subject of many police investigations would immediately call the police? Would he trust them to believe him when he said it was nothing to do with him? No, a thief would not. It would be wholly out of character for someone always on the wrong end of the law to involve the law, because the law and Nick Connor have been unsuitable bedfellows.’
He lowered his tone and spoke more softly. It drew the jurors closer.
‘Nick Connor and murder do not go together in the same sentence, which leaves you with one question, and one that will trouble you: if it is not Nick Connor, then who? It’s a natural reaction for you to make leaps of faith and hope you’ve got it right if you find him guilty, because that is what the prosecution is asking you to do, make a leap of faith. Things have changed though, since the case started, and at the heart of it all is Mark Roberts, the innocent victim in this case, because this is where the prosecution case shakes on its foundations. There are questions.’
He slammed his hand on the desk. ‘First question. What was Mark Roberts investigating? The prosecution hasn’t supplied you with that information. I have, through the evidence of Rodney Walker. Mark Roberts was investigating the murder of two children more than twenty years ago, and he believed the killer was still free.’
He slammed his hand again. ‘What was Mark Roberts doing in Highford, the place where he met his death? All we’ve heard from the prosecution is that it was the town where he died. But today, you heard something new, from Rodney Walker. His daughter lives in Highford. And not just his daughter, but the person he names as the killer of those two precious children who were brutally murdered. Was she about to be exposed? We’ve heard of no other reason why Mark Roberts was in Highford. It is too much of a coincidence that Mark Roberts should die in the same small town where the person he was about to accuse of murder lived.’
He didn’t slam his hand this time. He had their attention. ‘And the third question is what was Mark Roberts doing in that park, dark and quiet? To meet someone? To confront someone?’
He looked at each of them in the eyes, one by one, so that he was their focus, no one else. ‘Can you really rule out the possibility that the murder of Mark Roberts was connected to his investigation, an investigation that has at its heart two callous and brutal murders of young children? Can you rule out the possibility that a common thief merely acted like a common thief? That is all it takes, members of the jury, that you think of it as a real possibility. If you think that, whatever views you hold on the character of Nick Connor, you must find him not guilty of murder.’
Dan let his words fade on the silent courtroom before he sat down and let out a long breath. He’d finished. Putting aside all that had gone on, he’d done his best for Nick. All he had to do now was wait.