Lisa Ballantyne - Guilty One

Now he did not turn to comfort his wife as she cried, or pass her a handkerchief when she opened her handbag in search of a tissue. Only his eyes belied his pain; they searched the courtroom, every corner, every face, as if silently asking why.

‘Are they going to show a movie?’ asked Sebastian.

‘No, they’ll be showing some pictures of …’ Daniel stopped himself from saying the body, remembering Sebastian’s fascination. ‘The other side’s lawyers will have some experts to explain what they think happened to the victim. I expect they’ll want to point things out on the screen …’

Sebastian smiled and nodded, put the lid on his pen and clasped his hands. It was as if a show was about to begin.

The afternoon began with police evidence: photographs of the child’s body, found flat on his back, arms at his sides. Sergeant Turner, who had interviewed Sebastian, went into the witness box. Footage was shown of Sebastian being questioned – refusing to admit that he had hurt Ben in any way. Jones took the rest of the afternoon to question Sergeant Turner, while playing footage of Sebastian talking about the blood on his clothes, and breaking down in tears. Jones also lingered over Sebastian’s bravado in the face of questioning and his logical explanations for the forensic evidence being on his person. The jury seemed to be left with the impression that Sebastian was clever and manipulative beyond his years.

It was the next morning before Irene was able to properly cross-examine the police sergeant. The court seemed heavier and more quiet than usual, as if everyone was still shocked by the sight of the young boy sobbing in police custody from the day before. He had seemed so small on the tapes.

‘Sergeant, I’d like to ask you a few questions about Mr Rankine’s statement, if that’s OK?’ Irene began.

‘Of course,’ said the sergeant. Under the bright courtroom lighting, his face seemed red, almost angry, yet he smiled at Irene.

‘We have heard from the pathologist that the victim could have been attacked any time on the afternoon of 8 August … four, five, even nearer six o’clock. Mr Rankine stated that he saw a person in a pale blue or white top seemingly attacking the victim around three thirty or four in the afternoon. What did you do to confirm the identity of this white attacker?’

‘A white top belonging to the defendant has been submitted into evidence. The witness seemed confident that he saw a boy matching the description of the defendant earlier in the day – which the defendant admits – and then later on.’

‘I see,’ said Irene, turning and raising her hand to the jury. ‘But of course!’ She turned to face the sergeant. ‘Your defendant had a white top and admits squabbling with the victim around two. No need for you to do anything further. No need to investigate whether or not there was another attacker, possibly an adult in a pale blue top …’

‘Miss Clarke,’ said Baron, with another crumpled smile, ‘do you intend to pose a question to the witness?’

‘Yes, m’lord. Sergeant, did the witness become convinced he saw a child in a white top because your colleagues suggested that you had someone of that description in custody?’

‘Certainly not!’

‘Miss Clarke, I would have expected better from a young QC,’ chastised the judge.

Daniel glanced at Irene but she was undaunted. She had a tilt to her chin as if in challenge.

‘Sergeant Turner,’ she continued, ‘Mr Rankine has admitted in court that he may in fact have seen an adult wearing a blue or white top. Regardless of whether the defendant owned a white top, can you tell us what you did to trace this sighting of someone attacking the victim late in the afternoon at a time when my client has an alibi?’

‘We did examine CCTV footage, but could not confirm anyone in the playground at the time … in fact for the entire afternoon and early evening.’

‘Does that mean that a pale-blue-shirted adult did not attack the victim that afternoon?’

‘No, nor does it prove that your client did not attack the victim that afternoon.’

‘And why is that?’

Sergeant Turner coughed. ‘Well, the TV cameras were mainly aimed at the surrounding streets during the afternoon and not turned on the park for sufficient time to allow a sighting … Basically the attack was not on camera, neither was the fight the boys had earlier, to which the defendant has already admitted.’

‘How convenient.’ Again Irene turned to the jury. ‘The cameras were not pointed at the park in the afternoon, a witness spots a white- or pale-blue-shirted person attacking the victim, you have a child in custody who owns a white shirt, so that’s that …’

‘A white shirt marked with the victim’s blood,’ said Sergeant Turner, interrupting her, raising his voice.

Daniel felt the courtroom bristle as Irene again tilted her chin to the attack.

‘When the CCTV footage proved useless, what else did you do to find the late afternoon attacker?’

‘As I said, forensic evidence convinced us that we had our man.’ Turner paused and seemed to blush, as if in recognition of the inappropriateness of his language.

‘You had your man,’ repeated Irene. ‘I see. You had a very small boy in custody, and a witness who told you that he saw someone in a pale blue or white top attacking the victim around four o’clock …’

Again Turner interrupted Irene. ‘The witness said he saw a boy … the same boy from the afternoon.’

Daniel could sense that the jury were displeased by the sergeant shouting at Irene.

‘I see, so you had a match …’ Irene turned to the witness and paused.

‘We didn’t fit him up, he fitted the description.’ Turner’s face was now very red.

‘What if I was to tell you that Mr Rankine testified to being myopic, and that he now considers he may have seen an adult that afternoon, would you still consider that you had a match?’

‘Yes, the forensic evidence speaks for itself.’

‘I would say your lack of police work speaks for itself. If there is a chance that the witness did see an adult attack the victim, do you not consider it reasonable to do everything in your powers to locate this person?’

‘We conducted a thorough investigation. The defendant matched the description given by the witness, and was later found to have the victim’s blood on his clothes.’

‘Job done, I see,’ said Irene, raising her eyes to the jury and sitting down.

Baron lowered his glasses on his nose to stare critically at Irene before excusing the witness, but said nothing.

Daniel noticed that she was breathing hard when she sat down. He watched the gentle swell of her chest. He stared at her for a few moments hoping that she would turn to him, but she did not.

In the afternoon, scenes of crime officers then testified to the evidence that had been recovered from the crime scene: the brick and blood-soaked foliage.

‘Let us be very clear,’ Irene said in cross-examination. ‘You did not find a single fingerprint at the crime scene?’

‘Well, we found some partial prints but these were not identifiable.’

‘To clarify, you did not find a single viable fingerprint at the crime scene?’

‘Correct.’

‘What about on the murder weapon? Did you get a print from the brick?’

‘No, but that is not surprising considering the nature of the surface …’

‘I will thank you to answer yes or no.’

‘No.’

After the scenes of crime officer left the stand, there was a break and then the Crown’s expert forensic scientist was called: Harry Watson.

Jones stood up and asked Watson to confirm his name and title and state his qualifications. Watson listed them: Bachelor of Arts from Nottingham, a chartered biologist and a member of the Institute of Biology. He had attended basic and advanced bloodstain pattern analysis courses held in the United States of America and was a member of the International Association of Bloodstain Pattern Analysts. Watson described his experience as being mainly in the area of biological aspects of forensic science, such as body fluids, hairs and fibres.