Guilty One (45 page)

He put a hand on Sebastian’s back. The little boy seemed so smart today in a fresh shirt that was too big on the collar and a striped tie. He looked up at Daniel and smiled.

Baron raised himself in his chair, and peered over his glasses at Sebastian and Daniel. ‘The child need not stand.’

The clerk stood up and addressed the jury. ‘Will the foreman please stand?’

The foreman was a woman. She rose to her feet and folded her hands in front of her.

‘Have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?’

‘Yes,’ said the woman, who was middle-aged, clearly spoken.

‘Do you find the defendant, Sebastian Croll, guilty or not guilty of the murder of Benjamin Stokes?’

Daniel couldn’t breathe. The air was thick. Each pair of eyes in the crowded court was focused on the woman’s lips, waiting for her to speak. Daniel could feel the tension emanating from the young boy beside him.

When Tyrel had been in the dock, Daniel had felt separate from him and powerless. Yet now it felt worse having Sebastian at his side, feeling the brush of the boy’s arm, watching the almost imperceptible rock of his body, smelling his clean hair. With his little client right beside him, he was no more able to protect Sebastian than he had been with Tyrel.

If Sebastian
was convicted of murder, the judge would have no discretion and would have to sentence him to detention at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Even after sentencing, the length of Sebastian’s incarceration would be decided not by legal professionals but by the Home Secretary. The boy’s life would then be subject to political expediency, with the likelihood of the Home Secretary lengthening his sentence to assuage public and media outrage.

Daniel thought about the years the child would spend in secure units and then adult prisons; the drugs he would be introduced to, the relationships he would form and learn to lose; the estrangement he would feel from society and from the future itself. The future would always imply some kind of imprisonment. The foreman of the jury raised her eyes to look at the clerk who addressed her.

Sebastian exhaled and, at the same time, slipped his hand into Daniel’s. Daniel coursed his thumb across the back of the boy’s hand, as Minnie might have done. Daniel remembered the roughness of her thumb on his young skin. It was an instinct of care and, after all, she had taught him to care.

Irene’s spine was completely straight. Daniel wished he could take her hand too.

‘Not guilty.’

‘And is that the verdict of you all?’

‘Yes.’

There were no cries of rapture. The courtroom reeled in shock. There was a gulf of silence before the voices came, hushed and insistent, like a wave crashing on to the shore. A choke of sobs rose from the victim’s family, angry voices of protest.

Baron silenced
the courtroom. ‘I will remind you that this is not a football ground.’

‘What does it mean?’ asked Sebastian when the jury had been excused, the judge had left and the gallery cleared. He was still holding on to Daniel’s hand.

‘It means you can come home, darling,’ said Charlotte, turning her son towards her. Her eyelids trembled as they rose above her large eyes. Sebastian leaned, weary and willowy, into his mother. She curled around him and tousled his hair.

The court began to clear. Daniel followed Irene and Mark out into the great hall of the Old Bailey.

As he made his way towards the exit, Daniel felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder and turn him round. Before he could say a word Kenneth King Croll was shaking his hand and slapping him on the back. Kenneth then reached out to Mark and shook his hand before taking Irene by the shoulders, shaking her lightly and planting a kiss on each cheek.

Released from Kenneth’s grasp, Irene turned to Daniel and smiled. Daniel wanted to hold her, but felt inhibited with their clients nearby.

‘Where are you going now?’ Daniel said, looking down at her, trying to find her eyes.

‘Back to the office, I suppose. I don’t know. I’m exhausted. Go home, maybe. What about you? You’ll have to meet the Great British Press.’

‘Face the music.’

‘Shall I wait for you, then?’ she said.

‘Yeah, wait and we can go get a drink or something. I might be a little while. I’ll be done as soon as I can.’

*

When
Irene left, Daniel turned back towards the court to see Ben Stokes’s parents leaving with the family liaison officer. He felt a sudden flush of empathy for them. Paul was holding Madeline by the shoulders. He seemed to be half carrying her. Her feet moved with tiny steps, her head down, hair over her face. Just before she reached Daniel she pushed her hair back and Daniel saw the red eyes and nose, the sunken cheeks. Her eyes flashed for a moment and she pulled away from her husband. Daniel stood back, sure that she was going to attack him. But it was Charlotte whom Madeline targeted. The vast hall echoed as Madeline screamed and reached out – fingers like claws – towards Charlotte’s shoulder.

‘He’s a monster,’
Madeline Stokes screamed.
‘He killed my little
boy …’

Daniel was about to call security, but Paul Stokes pulled his wife away. As she passed she became passive again, allowing her husband to lead her away.

‘Are you all right, Charlotte?’ said Daniel.

Charlotte had opened up her handbag. She was searching through it fervently. Objects fell out on to the floor: a hairbrush, a vanity mirror, eyeliners and pens. Deftly, bending at the knees each time, Sebastian stooped to pick them up.

‘I need, I need …’ she said.

‘For God’s sake, woman, calm down,’ Kenneth hissed.

Daniel reached out to her, but it was too late. Charlotte’s knees buckled and she fell on to the floor, letting her handbag fall. The pills she had been searching for rolled out. Sebastian held them up to his father.

‘Here,’ the boy said, presenting them.

Kenneth’s face was almost purple, and Daniel was not sure if it was
embarrassment or the strain as he helped Charlotte to her feet.

A security officer came up and asked them if they needed assistance.

‘Look, we’re fine,’ Croll boomed. He turned to Daniel. ‘Could I ask you to stay with Seb for a moment? I need to calm her down before we go out.’

Daniel nodded, watching them go. Sebastian looked up at him, hands by his side, chin tilted so that his entire round face was turned towards Daniel.

‘We’ll be in that conference room,’ Daniel shouted after Croll.

‘Give us twenty minutes.’

Daniel looked at his watch. The boy was still staring at him.

‘She’s having a panic attack. She can’t breathe and her face goes all white and she starts to breathe like this …’ Sebastian began to mime hyperventilation, until Daniel put a hand on his shoulder. Already the boy was red and coughing.

‘Come on,’ said Daniel, opening the door to one of the conference rooms and saluting the security guard who stood nearby. ‘Let’s go in here and sit for a while until your mum’s feeling better.’

The door closed behind them, sealing them in its insulated space. There were no windows in this room. Daniel was reminded of the placer where Minnie had been cremated. The sounds of the Old Bailey – heels on the flagstones, lawyers talking over each other into mobile phones, solicitors whispering to clients – were all excluded.

There was a warm, germinating silence. The boy’s eyes were dry and his pale face pensive. It reminded Daniel of the first time they’d met, in the police station in Islington.

‘Do
you think most people are sad that I was found not guilty?’ said Sebastian, looking up at Daniel.

‘It doesn’t matter what other people think; you had a good defence and the jury found you not guilty. You can go back to your life now.’

Sebastian got up and walked around the table to Daniel. He stood by the side of Daniel’s chair.

‘I didn’t want to go back to Parklands House.’

‘No,’ said Daniel. He was leaning forward on his elbows, so that his face was level with the boy’s. ‘I didn’t want you to have to go back there either.’

The little boy sighed and then leaned into Daniel. He rested his head on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel had watched him being comforted by his mother often enough and knew what to do. After a moment’s pause, he raised his hand and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.

‘It’ll be OK,’ Daniel whispered. ‘It’s all over now.’

‘Do you think I’ll go to hell?’

‘No, Seb.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because hell doesn’t exist. I don’t believe in it, anyway.’

‘But you don’t actually know. Nobody
actually
knows. Believe means you just
think
something is so.’

‘Well, call me stubborn but I think I do know. All sounds like rubbish to me.’

‘Will Ben be in heaven? Everyone says he’s an angel.’

‘Seb, listen, I know this has been really hard on you – the case has been on TV and in the papers and all the other kids at Parklands House have been talking about you, but you have to try not to pay attention to all the newspapers and stuff. They only do
that to sell papers, not because there’s a shred of truth …’

‘Truth,’ said Sebastian, calmly. ‘Do you like me, Daniel?’

‘Yes,’ said Daniel, exhaling.

‘If I tell you something, will you still like me?’

Daniel considered, then nodded.

‘I put the brick on Ben’s face.’

Daniel held his breath and watched the small boy. The light was catching his green eyes. He had an almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

‘You told me you just went home …’

‘It’s all right,’ said Sebastian, smiling properly now. ‘I’ll be OK. You don’t need to worry about me.’

Daniel nodded. He felt his stomach muscles tighten.

‘I like you too,’ said Sebastian. ‘I think you’re my friend. I’m glad you were my lawyer …’

Daniel nodded again. His collar was tight at his throat.

‘What do you mean … you put the … brick on Ben’s face?’

‘I didn’t like Ben’s face. I just wanted to cover it up, so I wouldn’t see it any more. He was all cry-baby and snot and wanting to go home. I told him he had to
stop crying.
I told him that if he tried to go, I’d
give him something to cry about …
and then after I put the brick on his face, he didn’t cry at all. He didn’t make a sound. Not any more.’

Daniel let his shoulders fall. He exhaled and loosened his tie. He leaned forward and put both hands through his hair.

‘You should’ve told me, Sebastian.’ His voice was loud in the room. ‘You should’ve told me at the beginning. We would have done things differently.’

Sebastian smiled, and sat down again, opposite Daniel. He was all
innocence: all eyelashes and freckles and neatly parted hair. ‘I thought you wouldn’t like me if I told you. I wanted you to like me.’

‘It’s not about
like,
Sebastian. I told you at the beginning, you needed to tell me everything, the truth, pure and simple. I’m your
lawyer …
You should have
told
me.’

‘Well, you know now,’ said Sebastian. He tilted his head to one side.

Daniel felt sick, a chill sweat on his back. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, controlling himself.

‘I have to go now,’ said Daniel. ‘Let’s … find your parents.’ The boy looked up at him, and Daniel took a deep breath. He didn’t know what to say to the child.

Outside Charlotte was on her feet again, wavering like a sunflower, large black shades over her eyes. Ken was still holding on to her elbow.

‘Thanks, Dan,’ said Kenneth as he returned the boy to their care. Daniel winced at Croll’s out-of-place informality.

‘All right, young man?’ Kenneth boomed at his son.

Sebastian slipped between his parents and took their hands. The sight of the family like this sickened Daniel. He wanted to look away.

But then they were gone, all hand in hand, walking out the doors of the Old Bailey, Sebastian looking over his shoulder at Daniel as he was tugged gently outside.

Daniel undid the top button of his shirt, pulled his tie off and put it in his pocket. His legs felt unsteady. It felt like walking away from Minnie for the last time. It wasn’t the first time a client had lied to him. Daniel didn’t understand why, this time, he felt so shorn.

He stood
in the ornate hall of the Central Criminal Court and looked around him. His loss was draped in a strange relief. One way or another, it was all over now.

Daniel walked out into the swarm of journalists. It was cold and threatening to rain, but he felt the heat of the camera flashes. He was blinded by them and couldn’t see the faces that addressed him, only the foam-encased microphones that were thrust towards him.

‘We are pleased with the outcome of the trial; my client and his family are looking forward to the return of normal family life. Our thoughts are with the family of the victim at this difficult time.’

Daniel pushed his way through the crowd as one of the journalists shouted: ‘How did it feel when you won? Were you surprised?’

Daniel turned and faced the man who had addressed him, knowing that he was now too close to the camera. The emotion apparent in his face would be broadcast, and commented on, in news feeds later: ‘Nobody won today. A little boy lost his life, but we are grateful that justice has been done for my client.’

There were more questions, but then the Stokeses came out. Madeline was recovered but brittle; Paul with a resolute turn to his lips. Daniel and the CPS solicitor were abandoned in favour of the victim’s parents.

Daniel looked around for Irene but couldn’t see her. He started to walk towards the Tube, then saw her ahead of him. She seemed dejected, eyes to the ground.

‘I thought
you said you were going to wait for me,’ he called, running to catch up with her.

‘God, there you are. I didn’t know where you’d got to.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her face.

‘Are you all right?’ Daniel asked as he looked into her tired eyes.

‘I dunno,’ she said with a strange smile. ‘I feel weird. Probably just exhausted.’

‘You won,’ he said.

‘We won,’ she said, putting a hand on his lapel. He enjoyed the weight of her hand on his chest. For a second he thought about pulling her to him, kissing her.