Authors: Elle Wynne
“Well I drank all of the good stuff.” he tries to explain.
“And do you have any receipts to support this claim?”
“No,” mutters Quinn.
“Sorry, what was that Mr. Hobbs? Please try and keep your voice up.”
“I said NO!” he yells.
“Because the truth is you bought that bottle home with you from Ghost didn’t you? You were drunk, you saw she was leaving you, you were angry and you attacked her.”
“No! For the hundredth time, I did not. I loved my wife!” shouts Hobbs
“No Mr. Hobbs you controlled your wife and when you lost control, you killed her.” he finishes.
As he sits down I feel an overwhelming sense of pride. He totally took him to pieces. I look at the jury and see that they look very uncomfortable, which hopefully means they’ve realised they’re sat in the same room as a murderer.
Quinn has gone very pale and has turned around in his seat to talk to Rivers. The pair of them are having an animated discussion in hushed tones and I’m dying to know what is being said.
Quinn gets to his feet. “The next witness for the defence is Andre Plushenko.”
Andre Plushenko is a very tall, slim dark haired man wearing a very expensive pale grey suit. He delivers the oath in a heavily accented voice and introduces himself to the court.
“My name is Andre Plushenko,” he says, rolling the ‘r’ in his first name.
Quinn takes him through how he knows Hobbs: they’ve been playing football together for the best part of six years. Predictably, Plushenko is telling the court about how Hobbs stayed with him for the night after they had left Ghost together.
“Ve vent back to my house. He stay on ze sofa. It vas no problem. When I get up at seven, he vas still asleep. I give him some coffee and he vent home about haff past eight. I know he not leave as I check on him at five to make sure he vas ok.”
Plushenko gave this evidence at the last trial and I remember when I read the transcript thinking that it was pretty convenient that he had a perfect alibi like this. The prosecution have looked into every angle as to why Plushenko would lie and have drawn a total blank. His salary as a footballer means that he’s rich enough already so it’s not like we can suggest that Hobbs is buying his support.
Further, there are no apparent skeletons in his closest to suspect that blackmail is involved, so no-one seems to have a clue why he’s supporting Hobbs in this cover-up. When Corr cross-examined him last time he didn’t really get anywhere as Plushenko stuck firmly to his guns. I can practically hear his brain working from here. Plushenko looks totally bored by his involvement in proceedings and is currently studying his nails with a slightly irritated look on his face.
“You and Mr. Hobbs have been very good friends for some six years now?”
“Yes. Vot is your point Mr. Corr? I vould not lie to protect him if zat is vot you are suggesting?”
Corr smiles at him.
“You know me too well Mr. Plushenko. When you left Ghost, the Defendant was very drunk wasn’t he?”
“Yes, but zat is no crime Mr. Corr.”
Corr continues, choosing to ignore the persistent use of his name.
“When the Defendant left the club he had something with him, didn’t he?”
“No, he did not haff any Krug Mr. Corr”
The court falls totally silent. You could hear a pin drop. I hardly dare to breathe.
“What was that Mr. Plushenko?” asks Corr, very, very quietly, reminding me of a tiger ready to pounce.
“Ze champagne. Ve drank all in ze bar. There vas none left ven ve leave”
“But I didn’t mention any champagne Mr. Plushenko. What makes you think I was going to ask you about a bottle of Krug?”
Plushenko looks concerned for a moment, but his face relaxes after a brief period of thought. He fingers one of the gold chains round his neck.
“You ask me about vis last time Mr. Corr. I tell you last time, there vas no champagne.”
“No, Mr. Plushenko. I did not ask you about this last time. We all have a transcript of what was said last time and when I asked questions of you, I did not mention any champagne. So tell me, how do you know about the Krug?”
“I do not know vat you mean,” he replies, sweating slightly. “I do not understand.”
“Well I’ll make it easy for you then. As I didn’t mention any champagne last time, let alone any any brand such as Krug, why did you bring it up? How did you know that was what I was asking you about?”
Plushenko has gone a really unattractive shade of red and is fidgeting with the bible in front of him. The whole courtroom is totally captivated, waiting for his answer. When none is forthcoming, the Judge intervenes.
“Please answer the question Mr. Plushenko.”
There’s about another minute of silence before he speaks.
“I, I guess. No-one tell me.”
Corr lets this answer sink in before resuming his attack.
“So you just guessed that a bottle of Krug is now a key piece of evidence in this trial?” he asks, with a small smile on his face. I can see a number of jurors shake their heads.
“Yes. I guess. I guess!”
“Mr. Plushenko, enough of the lies. You’ve obviously spoken to either the Defendant or one of his team about this trial, haven’t you?”
“No. I do not lie. I no speak to anyone.”
“Are you familiar with the terms ‘perjury’ and ‘conspiracy to pervert the course of justice’?” says Corr with a very serious expression on his weathered face.
“No,” says Plushenko sulkily.
“Well, you will be soon” slams Corr.
I feel like jumping up and whooping. That was absolutely amazing. I cannot believe it. He’s annihilated him, shown that there is a huge conspiracy to provide Hobbs with a defence. That was such an obvious lie, it’s totally unbelievable. Plushenko is spitting in the witness box, trying to make his protestations heard. Quinn rises to re-examine. He is trying to act unconcerned about what has just happened, but is failing miserably.
“Mr. Plushenko, are you lying to protect your friend?”
“No!”
“And have you been in discussion with anyone about this case?”
“No! I haff not!”
Quinn sits down and there is silence. Mr. Justice Wynne looks around the court slowly before speaking.
“Mr. Plushenko, you may leave the witness box. Mr. Quinn, is there any further evidence for the defence?”
“My Lord yes, some excellent written character references for Mr. Hobbs.”
“Well, we’ll hear those now then take a short break before Mr. Corr’ speech. Mr. Quinn, we’ll hear from you tomorrow then I’ll sum the case up.”
As Rivers reads out a small library worth of letters from people who claim that they have known Hobbs for many years and have never seen him raise his hand to anyone. I try to suppress a yawn; this evidence is somewhat diluted by the fact he’s already admitted breaking a man’s nose.
I listen to him speak and try to suppress any thoughts that he actually has a really sexy voice. Rivers is facing the jury, relaying the contents of his documents to them. Some of them are paying attention but most are making no secret of the fact they now consider the defence case a complete waste of their time.
I quickly glance behind my left shoulder and see that Serena has stopped typing and is looking somewhat ashen at the turn of events. Rivers finishes and sits down. When the Judge has retired, Corr turns to me with a huge smile on his face.
“Well, I certainly didn’t expect that,” he says in an amazed tone.
“Talk about third time lucky!” I reply.
I hear an audible tutting noise from behind me and turn in surprise to see Serena looking at me.
“Is there anything you need me to do?” I ask Corr.
“No. I think you’ve done enough already,” he remarks, noting something down on his papers with his fountain pen.
I try not to smile. “Well, if you think of anything you know where I am!”
His speech is sublime. He takes the jury through all of the key points of the evidence and totally goes to town on Hobbs and Plushenko.
“Members of the jury, I don’t want to insult your intelligence by going over Mr. Plushenko’s evidence with you; I know you will have seen straight through the facade of his words. There is only one way he could have known about what I was going to ask him; he must he been told about the new evidence in the case. Why? Well that’s easy. The Defendant knew he was in big trouble and needed his faithful friend to slightly amend his story to save him. He is just as much of a liar as Mr. Hobbs. I do not think for a second either of them will have come close to fooling you and I know you will recognise the reality of this case. You have before you an angry and abusive man, a man who freely cheated on his wife because he knew he could get away with it. A man who never expected his wife would attempt to leave him. A man who was drunk and armed with his player of the year trophy. You’ve heard a lot of speculation about intruders and I have no doubt that Mr. Quinn will address you in the morning and spin you some impressive tale about burglars. But ask yourself this, why would burglars commit murder to protect their identities and take nothing? You’ve all seen the property for yourself, you know the items of value contained inside. It makes no sense. The tragic truth is clear. Mrs Hobbs was leaving the Defendant and when challenged, was killed by her feckless husband.”
I faithfully type each word that Corr utters, marveling at his eloquent use of prose. He has the jury in the palm of his hand and I’m totally convinced that they’re all sure of his guilt. They have to be. There is no way there can be any doubt after what they have heard. When he sits down, just over an hour and a half later, I’m positive it’s in the bag.
Hobbs looks pretty shaken when he leaves the courtroom. He must know that his number is up. As soon as he gets outside the door and onto the concourse I can hear raised voices and the sound of a man shouting. It’s a pretty safe bet that it’s Hobbs having a go at his solicitors. Quinn walks out without making an attempt to speak to Corr; there are no jokes or attempts to engage him in any playful banter.
“Let’s go and have a debrief,” says Corr “Meet me back at your Chambers in ten minutes. It won’t take long”
“Sure. I’ll see you there” I reply, rearranging my papers and leaving them neatly on the bench.
Rivers stops next to me on his way out. “So, the champagne evidence was your idea?” he asks, leaning across me and picking up a stray biro. His arm brushes against me as he straightens up. I nod modestly.
“I guess the prosecution must be desperate to get this home then,” he continues “Last chance for them and all.”
“Well by the same standard, you and Quinn must be desperate to get him off!” I laugh.
He joins in. “Yeah, I suppose so. We’ll have to wait until next week though to find out though.”
“True, the Judge probably won’t send the jury out to deliberate now until Monday morning. Oh well, at least it keeps us out of trouble for a little bit longer! Right, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” I grab my bag and hurry out.
It doesn’t take me long to walk back to Chambers and I sit and wait for Corr in one of the conference rooms on the first floor feeling like I’m waiting at the dentists, staring at the legal themed print hung on the yellow wall. He arrives after I’ve been alone for about a minute and sits in the chair opposite me. I wait for him to speak and he removes his glasses, putting them on the table between us.
“I just wanted to tell you how impressed I’ve been with your efforts in this case. Your intuition has really paid off.”
“Wow, thanks” I stutter. “It’s very kind of you to say that.”
“Nothing is ever certain with these thing but I’m confident that this trial has gone as well as it could have.”
We continue to talk about the trial and I’m amazed by how easily we can converse. He seems genuinely relaxed and happy about how things have developed. The conversation turns to other work and he tells me all about a murder trial he’s doing in a couple of weeks. We’re interrupted by the arrival of Roger who knocks on the door and enters. We both stand to greet him.
“Sir, Miss.” he acknowledges in his usual raspy voice. “Phone call for you Sir, your senior clerk.”
“Thank you Roger,” says Corr “I’ll see you in the morning Lauren. Again, good job.” He exits the room, leaving me alone with my clerk.
“So Miss, how have you found it working with the great man?” he asks, taking a deep draw on the ever-present cigarette.
“It’s been, well, amazing I guess!” I gush. “I’ve learned so much. I just hope the jury convict the bastard!”
Roger laughs, exhaling smoke.
“Remember Miss never to take these things personally. If you win you win, if not, then that’s just how it was meant to be.”
“I know” I sigh “But I just couldn’t bear it if they acquitted him. He’s so totally guilty!”
“That may be so Miss, but remember to leave the case here when you go home.” I nod, trying to look like I agree with him. If he had any idea how much time I’ve spent on this he might be a little concerned.
“Go home now Miss. Get ready for the drama of tomorrow.”
“Quinn’s speech?” I laugh, “It’s going to be epic!”
I bid him farewell. I can hardly wait.
Chapter Fourteen
I’m having the most amazing night. I got home in good time to find Sebastian busying himself in the kitchen, whipping up an Italian feast for dinner. A bottle of decent white wine had been opened and a large, ice-cold glass was waiting for me on the side.
Sebastian swept me up in a huge hug and we spent ages lingering over our food, just talking about what was going on with each of us. As I forked up yummy mouthfuls of salmon linguine I felt wholly content, wrapped up in the warm bubble of his company. I told him all about the trial, about how pleased I was to have been trusted to chief a witness and how completely amazed I was that Corr thought I had done a good job. To his credit, Sebastian nodded in assent.
“Lauren, you always do this. You panic and get all stressed that you’re not up to the job, but you always kick ass!”
I laughed.
“You have to say that!”