Man of Law by John Wainwright

Author:John Wainwright [Wainwright, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

Armstrong, Smith-Hopkinson and I lunched together. The morning had been taken up by Clipstone’s opening address and Edward Patsold’s evidence in chief. Clipstone (excellent counsel that he was) had done his job well, but without labouring any particular point. Tactics, again, and indeed more than tactics. Counsel for Prosecution is not (in theory, at least) an “advocate”; technically he is neither required or even allowed, to press for a conviction; his task is merely to present the evidence as clearly and as concisely as possible… to demolish that fortification of initial innocence behind which the accused stands at the opening of any criminal case. Any pleading—any real advocacy—is the province of the Defence; by counter-evidence if possible and, if not, by cross-examination plus argument, the Counsel for the Defence must re-build that fortification… or, if not all of it, enough to create that mystical “reasonable doubt” in the minds of the jurors.

Thus the theory—thus the textbooks—but in practice (and while no barrister consciously goes too far in the matter of fighting for a conviction) the Defence enjoys little if any advantage. In effect (and to equate courtroom play with, say, bridge) the Prosecution merely deals the cards, allows the Defence to call the tricks then, via cross-examination and occasionally rebuttal evidence, trumps a way to victory.

Both Armstrong and Smith-Hopkinson knew the practical truth of trial work and, as we lunched at a moderately good restaurant, we exchanged views and opinions.

“Belmont?” said Smith-Hopkinson warily.

“He hasn’t come down yet,” I said. “Neither on our side nor theirs. As the day wears on he may become a little testy… then his impatience might be used to advantage.”

“He seemed to approve of your objection to Webb staying in court,” said Armstrong.

“My boy.” I smiled, “All judges approve of being given the opportunity to demonstrate their power.”

“Nevertheless…”

“We’ll take Webb when he arrives,” I interrupted. “What about Edward Patsold?”

“He—er…” Armstrong (poor chap) took my interruption as a form of rebuke. I hadn’t meant it to be, but there was little enough time, without wasting words on unnecessary apologies. He stammered, “To me he seemed—er—uninspired?”

“An appropriate description.” I nodded and turned to my junior. “Smith-Hopkinson?”

“He found the body. He found his father. He called the police.” Smith-Hopkinson moved his hands. “That’s all… he said it.”

“That,” I agreed, “is about all he said.”

“I got the impression…” began Armstrong.

“Yes?” I encouraged.

“That he wanted to say more.”

“But that Clipstone wouldn’t let him? That—at times—the next question followed before the previous answer could be amplified upon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Clipstone knows his business,” I mused. “He knows what we have to do… to move the jury’s sympathy towards Patsold. He doesn’t want to help us.”

Smith-Hopkinson said, “But in the cross-examination…”

“In the cross-examination…” Again I interrupted. “In the cross-examination we have to walk a tightrope. I have to walk a tight-rope. I have to bring out Edward Patsold’s emotional involvement—his contempt for his mother—his disgust at the way his father treated his mother, but without allowing him to overstate his case. If he does that we lose all the ground we might gain.

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