A Matter for the Jury (17 page)

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Authors: Peter Murphy

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Gareth removed his glasses.

‘But on the 22 of January, something happened in the vestry which took Raymond Stone very much by surprise.
Raymond will tell you about it himself. His vicar, the Reverend Ignatius Little, had more in his mind that evening than making preparations for Sunday services. You will hear that, in a dreadful breach of trust, Mr Little indecently assaulted Raymond, a ten-year-old boy who was a member of his choir, and the child and grandchild of members of his congregation. You will hear that the vicar unzipped his own trousers, took out his penis, and invited Raymond to touch it.'

A ripple ran around the public gallery. Paul rose to his feet and sternly called for silence. Gareth waited for the shock to subside.

‘The defendant then touched Raymond's penis through his trousers.
Fortunately, members of the jury, matters went no further, because Raymond had the presence of mind to turn and run out of the vestry. He ran all the way home at top speed, not stopping until he reached his home, just a few hundred yards from the church. On arriving home, he immediately ran upstairs to his bedroom, without a word to his parents. His parents, loyal members of the defendant's congregation, will tell you that this was unusual. Generally, Raymond would have come into the living room to tell them he was home. They were concerned. They went to Raymond's room separately to talk to him. They will tell you that Raymond was very upset. It took them some time to get the boy to tell them what had happened. But
, eventually, he disclosed that the defendant had touched him. Mr Stone will admit to you that, at first, he was loath to believe his son. He thought there must have been some mistake, some misunderstanding. He telephoned the defendant – it was by now late, about 11 o'clock – and asked him what had happened. Gentlemen, you will hear that the defendant replied that he did not know what had come over him, and he apologised to Mr Stone. The prosecution say that the defendant, in effect, admitted his guilt of this offence to Mr Stone.'

Ben had been watching Gareth out of the corner of his eye, and had noted some hesitation in his voice as he came to the father's evidence. He noted that Gareth dealt with it
briefly and in no great detail. It was something Gareth himself had taught Ben to look out for. Gareth lacked confidence in his witness; he was not entirely sure what he would say. Ben made a note to himself to press the father even harder on that part of the case than he had intended.

‘That, in outline, is the case you will hear, members of the jury. At the end of the case, the learned judge will sum up the case to you on the law, and you must take the law from him. But I anticipate that the direction he will give you about indecent assault will be consistent with the prosecution's case, and I anticipate that he will tell you that a boy of Raymond's age cannot give consent to being touched for the purposes of an indecent assault. Bear in mind that, as I have said, the prosecution must prove the case beyond reasonable doubt if you are to convict.'

He turned back towards the judge.

‘Sir, my first witness will be Raymond Stone. Given his age, and the matters with which he will be dealing, I ask that the court be closed to the public and press for the duration of Raymond's evidence.
It is a matter for your discretion, sir, but my learned friend has been good enough to indicate that he has no objection.'

Ben stood immediately. ‘That is correct, sir.'

Judge Peterson considered briefly. ‘Very well,' he ordered. ‘The public gallery and press box are closed until further order. All those not involved in the case will please leave court.'

Without turning round, Ben was aware of the frustration of the onlookers and reporters. They filed out of court slowly
and noisily, as if hoping that the judge might think he had made a mistake, and change his mind to allow them to hear the gory details. An elderly lady who volunteered for such things had been looking after Raymond until it was time for his evidence. She now walked him slowly ahead of her into the courtroom. As before, he was dressed in his best school uniform, his hair cut short – a picture of innocence. Ben felt his anxiety start to rise, and had to take several deep, slow breaths to control it.

24

‘Raymond, what is
your full name?' Gareth asked quietly.

‘Raymond Godfrey Stone, sir.'

‘Do you live in St Ives with your parents?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

A shake of the head.

Gareth smiled. ‘You have to say something. You see that nice lady with the notepad? She is taking notes. She can't write anything down if she can't hear you. Let's try again. Any brothers or sisters?'

A tentative smile in return.

‘No, sir.'

‘Do you and your parents go to church on Sundays?'

‘My parents and grandparents all go. I go with them.'

‘Is that to St Martin's Church in St Ives?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Who is the vicar of that church, Raymond?'

Hesitation. Ben stood.

‘Sir, there is no dispute about any of this. My learned friend can lead until the incident itself.'

Judge Peterson nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr Schroeder, most helpful.'

‘I am much obliged to my learned friend.
Raymond, is the vicar the Reverend Little, and is he the gentleman over there in the dock?'

Raymond looked around the court. Ben noted that his gaze rested on Little for some time. Raymond nodded.

‘Again, Raymond, you have to…'

‘Sorry, sir, yes.'

Effortlessly, Gareth led Raymond through a description of the church, the composition of the choir, the arrangements for the weekly choir practice, the role of John Sharples, the various tasks that had to be done to prepare for Sunday services. Ben found himself losing focus momentarily as he listened with admiration to Gareth's easy, polished flow, as he had so often as a pupil. With an effort he forced his mind to concentrate.

‘Now, Raymond, would Mr Little sometimes ask a boy to help him after practice, for a few minutes, with the various things you told us have to be done for the Sunday services?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did he ask you to help sometimes?'

‘Yes.'

‘What kinds of things would he ask you to do?'

‘Getting his vestments ready for Sunday, fetching the communion wine.'

‘Where would you go to do that?'

Hesitation.

‘Raymond…?'

‘In the vestry, sir.'

‘Is the vestry a small room at the
front of the church, up by the altar, where the vicar keeps things like vestments and supplies for services?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did Mr Little ask you to do anything on the evening of 22
January?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘What did he ask you to do?'

‘He asked me to come into the vestry to put out his vestments, and the chalice, and the communion wine for Sunday.'

‘Were those tasks you had done before?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘What time was it when Mr Little asked you to do that?'

‘I'm not sure exactly…'

‘No, of course, roughly what time?'

‘It was after 8 o'clock.'

‘Did you go to the vestry?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Who else was in the vestry?'

‘Just me and Mr Little.'

‘Where was Mr Sharples, do you know?'

‘In the church, I should think, unless he had gone home.'

‘Did he come into the vestry at all?'

‘No, sir.'

‘Now, the vestments and so on he asked you to put out, where were they kept?'

‘There is a big cupboard against the wall, sir, opposite the door. It's more like a wardrobe, really. That's where all the vestments and different things for the altar are kept.
The wine is kept on a shelf. It's a bit high up. I could only just reach it.'

‘Did you go to the wardrobe?'

‘Yes, sir. I opened the doors and reached up for the wine. I thought I would get that
out first.'

‘Then what happened?'

Silence. A suggestion of a tear. Ben felt his throat tighten.

‘All right, Raymond, it's all right… let me ask you this. Where were you going to put the wine?'

‘There is a big table in the middle of the room. That's where we put the wafers, the wine, the candlesticks, and any stuff for the altar. The vestments have to be hung on a coat rack behind the door.'

‘So when you took down the wine, did you turn around towards the table?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Where was Mr Little when you turned around?'

‘He was standing…'

‘It's all right.'

‘He was standing between me and the table.'

‘Facing towards you, or away from you?'

‘Facing towards me.'

‘What happened next? Did Mr Little do anything?'

Silence. Gareth allowed some time to go by. Ben glanced up at the judge, and noted that he was looking at Gareth as if to suggest a break. But Gareth showed no sign of having noticed. Ben guessed that he would prefer to avoid prolonging the evidence unless it proved absolutely necessary.

‘Well, let me ask you this, Raymond. Did you notice anything different about Mr Little when you turned around, about his appearance?'

Quietly.

‘Yes, sir.'

‘What did you notice?'

Hesitation.

‘It's all right.'

‘I noticed he had undone his trousers at the front, sir.'

‘And as a result of that, could you see anything?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘What could you see?'

‘His…'

Silence.

‘Do you know the word for it?'

‘I am not sure, sir.'

Ben saw Gareth turn towards the judge. He was goi
ng to ask permission to ask a leading question, and the judge would almost certainly allow him to lead Raymond on such a sensitive subject. Ben calculated quickly and decided on a pre-emptive strike. He rose quickly to his feet.

‘I have no objection to my learned friend leading,' he said, ‘as long as the jury understand that we do not accept the evidence.'

‘I'm much obliged to my learned friend,' Gareth said. He turned towards Ben with a look – apparently hurt, but with the hint of a smile – which Ben understood immediately.

It said:
‘You got that trick from me, didn't you? And you turned it against me.'

Ben gave him an innocent look in return.
Gareth turned back to his witness.

‘Raymond, was it his penis?'

Raymond nodded.

‘You have to…'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Do you understand what the penis is?'

Hesitation.

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did Mr Little do anything?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘What did he do?'

Hesitation.

‘He asked me to touch his…'

‘His penis?'

‘Yes, sir.

‘Do you remember exactly what he said?'

‘No, sir.'

‘All right. What did you think he wanted you to do? How did he want you to touch him?'

‘With my hand.'

‘Did you touch it?'

‘No, sir.'

‘How many times did he ask you to touch him?'

‘Once or twice, sir.'

‘But you didn't?'

‘No, sir.'

‘Did Mr Little say or do anything else?'

Silence.

‘Raymond…?'

‘He touched me, sir.
'

‘He touched you? Where did he touch you?'

Hesitation.

Quietly. ‘The same place, sir.'

‘Your penis?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did he touch you through your trousers?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did he say anything while he was touching you?'

‘No, sir.'

‘What did you do then?'

‘I ran, sir. I ran out of the vestry as fast as I could.'

‘Did Mr Little follow you?'

‘No, sir.'

‘Where did you go?'

‘I ran home.'

‘How long did it take you to run home?'

‘I'm not sure, sir. Not long. Just a few minutes.'

‘All right, Raymond. Now, when you got home, what did you do?'

‘I ran upstairs to my room.'

‘Without speaking to your parents?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did your father come upstairs to see what was going on?'

‘Yes.'

‘And did you tell him…?'

Ben stood quickly.

‘I would ask my learned friend not to lead on this, sir.'

The judge nodded.

‘Of course,' Gareth said. ‘What did you say to your father?'

‘I told him that Mr Little had touched me.'

‘Do you remember exactly what you said?'

A shake of the head.

‘I can't remember now, sir.'

Gareth hesitated, as if unsure whether to press. After some time he nodded, as if to himself.

‘Thank you, Raymond.
I have no more questions to ask you. Mr Schroeder will have some.'

Ben stood quickly.

‘Sir, I'm entirely in your hands. If Raymond would like a break, we can certainly take one now. But I am only going to be a few minutes, and he may prefer to get it over with.'

The judge nodded.

‘Raymond, what would you like to do? Would you like a break, or would you like to go on for just a few more minutes?'

‘We can go on, sir,' Raymond replied politely.

* * *

‘Raymond, can I ask you first about the vestry? It's a very small room, isn't it?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘You could fit
three or four vestries into this courtroom at least, couldn't you?'

Raymond smiled. ‘Yes, sir.'

‘And the table in the middle of the room, that's a rather large, round wooden table, isn't it?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘A bit too big for the room, really, don't you think?'

Raymond nodded. ‘Much too big.'

‘Yes. And there's not much room between the table and the wardrobe, is there?'

‘No, sir.'

‘In fact, there's hardly room to open the wardrobe doors without banging them into the table, is there?'

‘There is not much room, sir, no.'

‘So, if you were taking something out of the wardrobe, and someone else was standing behind you, by the table, you could easily bump into them by accident, couldn't you?'

‘I suppose so, sir.'

‘Is it possible that's what happened – that you bumped into Mr Little as you were turning round to put the wine on the table?'

Hesitation.

‘I don't think so, sir.'

Ben paused.

‘You don't think so. All right. Raymond, how long have you been singing in the choir?'

‘Since I was seven, sir.'

Ben smiled.

‘You started young, didn't you?'

Raymond smiled back.

‘Yes, sir. My parents started giving me singing lessons when I was just five or six.'

‘They wanted to encourage you, didn't they?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Do you like singing?'

‘I love it, sir.'

‘Would you like to go on singing when you grow up?'

‘Yes, sir. I hope so.'

‘So do I,' Ben said. ‘I understand you are very talented
musically, a very good singer?'

‘Well…'

‘It's all right. Don't be shy.'

‘Yes, sir, I think so.'

‘You go to school in St Ives, don't you?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Do you have music lessons there?'

Hesitation.

‘Yes, sir… well, sort of…'

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