Kavanagh QC (1995) s02e04 Episode Script

A Sense of Loss

1 She was a lovely, sweet girl.
A real gem.
Always kind.
Always hopeful she could do some good.
Words can't express how much we're going to miss her.
Our hearts go out to Claire's parents in their grief.
All of us who loved her share in their pain.
Nothing can replace her.
BRASS BAND: Amazing Grace How long had she been working in the town? JULIA: Three years.
Were they expecting any trouble that night? No.
Just a normal routine call.
JULIA: The new alarm had a delay switch.
WPC Kemble and PC Woofler got there before it went off.
There'd been three false alarms already that week.
(indistinct talking on police radio) No chance.
I'll check the shop.
Eurgh! Oi! All right! Argh! WPC KEMBLE ON RADIO: There's someone by the doorway.
Wait there.
I can just make him out.
Oh, no, not again.
(Gunshot) Claire? Claire! Witnesses? (sighs) I'm afraid so.
(lndistinct police radio) - Sir.
MAN: Now, tell him what you saw.
I was coming down Widemarsh Street when I heard the bang.
And this kid come belting down the road past me.
- Have you any idea who it was? - Aye.
It looked like the Warwick lad.
Paul.
Move it! Come on! Get out of there! Get up! Get up! Stay! What are you doing? Terry, Paul.
Get off me! Take her out! Out! Where did you get these radios, eh? Where's that gun? - Oh, my God.
DETECTIVE: It's been deactivated.
But it's a start.
And our boy's still pleading not guilty? You haven't heard the best bit.
DETECTIVE ON TAPE: We found a gun in a skip.
Just like yours.
But this one works.
It fires bullets.
You had blood all over your trainers.
Where the hell did that come from? I was at home all night, wasn't I? Ask my ma.
I was, all right? Don't fart around with us, Paul.
You and Claire were almost mates, weren't you? Probably played the odd game of pool down at the youth club.
So what? She told your probation officer that you were a good lad.
She thought you were out of the woods, apparently.
DETECTIVE: She wasn't like the rest of us, was she, Paul? For some reason, she went out of her way to help miserable little villains like you, even when other people said she was wasting her time.
But she didn't listen.
She thought she could help make you better.
And you shot her heart out for a lousy packet of fags.
What had she ever done to you? She never hurt anyone in her life! Never thought of herself.
Always put other people first.
Was that it? Did being with her make you feel like din? If it wasn't you, mate, who was it? Pigs get what they deserve, don't they? - You're filth! - You want us all dead? That why you shot Claire? - What if I did? - Did you shoot her? Yeah.
It was brilliant! I can still remember the feeling! Bang! Bang! Con's at four.
Got to catch the 1:30 from Liverpool Street.
Second class.
Bloody legal aid.
Just returning your Phipson.
Such a shame we can't find a way of evening the contest up a bit.
Nothing more unsatisfying than prosecuting a defendant who's already confessed.
And judging by the almost tangible air of despondency in here, I presume things are not improving in the defence camp.
We thought of putting Valium in your tea.
You could always concede that the confession was obtained unfairly, Peter.
I'm afraid my officers weren't even sporting enough to break the rules a little bit.
You can never find a bent copper when you need one.
Wen, enjoy the conference.
Oh, and don't let the poor boy cave in now.
I'm {coking forward to a few days out in the sticks.
I could do with a rest.
Alex, I know it's last minute, but you're the only one in chambers who's ever done an asylum case.
One case doesn't make me an expert, especially if I lost.
I'm sure you'll find it quite straightforward.
Money's not too good, though.
Ah.
So that's why you want me to do all the legwork.
Don't be cynical.
I'm extremely busy with my commercial practice, so I need a first-class junior.
Besides, communicating with foreigners has never been my strong suit.
PROTESTERS: Free Barruba! Free Barruba! (Sirens wail) Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! What on earth's going on? Free Barruba! Quick, Jeremy.
Home Office Immigration Department.
- Stay there, Oyinda.
- Are you her solicitor? You can't do this.
We've got a judicial review next week.
She's outstayed her visa.
If you'd like to explain to her, we're taking her into custody.
I can understand perfectly well.
This is outrageous.
She's not going anywhere until the court's decision.
She'll be held until the hearing.
- Move aside, sir.
- Do as they say, Martin.
There's no point annoying them.
This kind of intimidation is never going to work.
You can't crack a spirit like hers.
Just doing our job, sir.
Jeremy Aldermarten.
Looks like you're having a spot of bother.
If we don't get this order quashed, she's on her way home to a ten-year stretch in an African jail.
Hm, ah.
I thought this was meant to be the country.
It was.
Once.
Not defending that animal who killed a copper, are you? I wouldn't fancy your job.
(Door slams shut) KAVANAGH: Paul? I'm not going to get very far if you don't speak to me.
It's not as if you've got an obvious defence.
I can't tell you what to say, but if you're going to go not guilty, - you've got to help us.
- You wouldn't believe me.
Nobody else does.
We just want the truth, Paul.
You don't have to worry about what we think.
Why did the police pick on you, Paul? They just wanted me down.
Everybody does.
I've heard the tapes.
You probably went through hell in that interview room.
But at the moment, all the jury have got is you saying, "Bang, bang.
" They picked on me, didn't they? - Just like they always do.
- How? Did they threaten you? Yeah.
You don't sound very sure.
You could have kept quiet.
You had your solicitor with you.
Then they get you for that as well.
They say you have something to hide.
You didn't have to confess.
I shut them up, didn't I? So why aren't you pleading guilty? Because I never done it.
Do you know who did? Where did the blood on your shoe come from? It didn't get there by itself.
- Why don't you just piss off back to London? - What about the gun? Look, son, you may not like me, but you don't have much option.
Either you cooperate or you can say goodbye to the next 20 years.
You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're all the same! Poxy lawyers and coppers with your clever questions.
- You're all the bleeding same! SOLICITOR: Paul! This isn't helpful! You're all Get your bleeding hands off SOLICITOR: The police have got a pile of unused statements.
Maybe we'll turn something up there.
JULIA: Is he usually this cooperative? Normally he keeps his mouth shut.
I've never seen him react like this.
But he hasn't got any convictions for violence.
Just theft and burglary.
A bit of taking and driving away.
Maybe he should just go guilty.
Don't you think enough people have given up on him already? You don't think he did it, do you? I've been known to be wrong.
- It's all there.
- Cheers, Clive.
They knocked on every door in a half-mile radius.
It's mostly copies of their notebooks.
One each, then.
Oh.
These must be Claire's things.
Get this copied, please.
(Sighs) Her whole life reduced to this.
There you go.
Oh, thank you.
Lizzie! PROBYN: Excellent rations, James.
- Have a banger.
- Not bad, Mum.
I don't think I could stomach it just now.
You'll end up as skinny and anaemic as your student daughter.
Yeah, Grandad.
I'm really about to fall down a grating.
There's nothing wrong with you that a few rashers wouldn't put right.
I thought it was only going to be three days.
Maybe he's lonely.
He said it was business, but I haven't seen much evidence of it.
He must be doing something right.
You haven't cooked me breakfast in ten years.
Early start, Jeremy? Busting a gut for a complete and utter loser.
That makes two of us.
Another earl with cocaine down his boxers? If only.
She's some screaming Trot, who likes to say rude things about African politicians.
Not that he's prejudiced or anything.
"There's just one thing worse than a sympathetic barrister," my old pupil master used to say, "a sympathetic barrister in a skin.
" (Knock on door) The report from Diana Plant, the family social worker.
Anything useful? Nothing devastating.
Single mother, violent father.
Brain-damaged brother in and out of care.
Paul drifted into crime when he was about 12.
Nothing that might help get us home on diminished responsibility? No.
She says he's quite bright.
I've got copies of Claire Kemble's diary.
Hairdressing appointments.
Entries that look like dates with a boyfriend.
Oh, and the prescription that I found in her wallet it's for the morning-after pill.
It's two weeks old.
She never collected it.
Something I've missed? The brother was brain-damaged in a car accident three years ago.
Joy-riding.
Paul was driving.
I'm going uptown.
I'll bring you back some chips.
You have to take them, Terry.
You want to stay here, don't you, love? If anyone comes to the door, you don't answer, all right? Hello, Mrs Warwick.
Hi, Mrs Warwick.
How's Paul, all right? (Door buzzer) That's your lot till Friday.
Thanks.
It's getting hard to cope by myself.
- Where's Terry? - At home.
I didn't want to bring him out.
You never know what he'll do.
How is he? The doctor put him on some stronger tablets.
He's getting worse.
The social services want to take him back.
If only you'd done what I said and kept your mouth shut.
You thought the police were bad.
You wait for the trial.
I couldn't help it.
James, the little brother's record.
Ah.
Assault, assault with intent to resist arrest, robbery, ABH.
All in the last two years? Who's leading who astray? You don't think Terry did it? Well, something's stopping Paul telling us the truth.
Now, if he was being threatened, he'd say, wouldn't he? But he's taking the blame.
Maybe he has done since the accident.
It's a bit of a stretch, James.
Even if you're right, you can't stop Paul taking the rap if he wants to.
I know.
You can't just blame Terry without Paul instructing you to.
No.
Maybe it won't come to that.
It's beyond a joke, Dad.
You'd think all students were doped up, anorexic hippies, the way he goes on.
They were in my day.
Can't you just tell him to chill out and watch a video or something? Well, I don't think he's a chilling out kind of guy.
(Knocking) I'm just popping up to town.
- Off out on the razzle, are we? - There isn't a lot of action round here.
I thought I'd show these young shirkers how to party.
Ciao.
He's losing it.
(French doors rattle) (Footsteps outside) (French doors rattle) (French doors rattle) They don't sound like they're making a very good job of it.
(French doors rattle) MATT: Dad? (French doors rattle) The old stop-out.
I'm awfully sorry.
I didn't mean to wake you.
I seem to have mislaid my key.
No problem.
Go back to bed, Matt.
James, I hope you don't feel you have to tell Lizzie about her septuagenarian father shinnying over garden walls.
Fine.
Fine.
Aren't you wondering where on earth I've been? (sniffs) Well, either you've got some very broad-minded friends, or it's a woman.
A woman? At his age? Who? Well, someone with plenty of stamina.
- Do you think he's getting a bit senile? - No! He's just randy.
It could be anybody.
It could be a terrible old gold-digger.
Invite her to lunch at the weekend, if you're worried.
We can all give her the third degree.
- So what are you going to tell her? - Bad news.
Let's hope she's ready for it.
Rather you than me.
- They will send me back? - Now, you see the court has to be convinced that you're in real danger of persecution as a result of your political beliefs.
This is a substantial hurdle.
I will be arrested and locked up, as soon as I step off the plane.
The big problem for the judge is that the Ivory Coast authorities now deny any interest in you.
Mr Aldermarten I am a peaceful, democratic, political campaigner.
But in my country, I am being branded a dangerous extremist.
Your country signed the Geneva Convention to protect people like me.
In theory, yes.
But not in practice.
What happened to the famous justice of this country? You have given up before the case has begun.
Miss Barruba, I'm simply trying to explain to you Do you want to fight for me? I can get another lawyer.
Miss Barruba, I assure you I shall do everything within my power, within the law, to keep you in this country.
I expect my lawyer to have fire in his belly.
What the bloody hell does she think I am - an idiot? She's damned lucky to get me at all.
Give me a good negligence action any day.
Jeremy, have you thought how it might feel if you actually won for her? (scoffs) It's highly unlikely.
She got to you, didn't she? I bet you've never felt consumed with passion about your work.
- Not like she does about hers.
- Just a minute.
What is this? Keeping a lid on all that bottled-up emotion.
It must be a real strain.
How dare you! Listen, Alex, I'm a bloody good lawyer and I'll do my best to help that woman.
Does she know that? You're all she's got.
Yes, that fact hadn't completely passed me by.
It looks like Peter's got his feet under the table.
- Good evening.
- Good evening.
Kavanagh and Piper.
- Would you mind signing these, please? - Mm-hm.
It's our ladies' night next week.
If you're still here, you and your wife will be very welcome.
How kind, but I think she might have something pencilled in.
Thanks.
Welcome to the provinces.
Fancy a Babycham? Cheers.
Pleasant little place, don't you think? Ever so friendly.
- What are you having, Peter? - Whisky, thank you.
Allow me to introduce my colleagues.
James Kavanagh, Julia Piper, erm Roger.
On the case with him, are you, love? FOXCOTT.
They're defending.
Oh.
That must be fun.
Not particularly.
Come on.
You know as well as I do, he's guilty.
Isn't that for the jury to decide? He's bang to rights, isn't he? He's confessed for God's sake.
What do you suggest? That we dispense with the formalities and proceed swiftly to a public hanging? Sounds all right to me.
Are you a magistrate by any chance? - No.
- Oh, you should apply.
They're always on the lookout for people with progressive ideas.
Maybe I will.
Creep.
That's blown your invitation to the Rotarian dinner dance.
BOY: Oi, look! It's Brain Death! Ha ha! Brain Death.
Come on, Brain Death, get your ball back.
What's the matter, you great poof? No big brother to stick up for you? - He should have shot you and all.
- He never done it.
Course he done it.
He's a nutter like you! He never! Go on, Damon! Yes! (Jeering and goading) Terry! Terry! - Get away from him! (Siren blares) Go away! After him! It's all right.
What did he ever do to them? They're scum! Wait! Get up there! We was having a laugh! We ain't done nothing! Shut up! Yeah? So, what's this for, then, Damon? It ain't a real one! DETECTIVE: Is that why you shot Claire? PAUL: Course I did.
DETECTIVE: Did you shoot her? PAUL: Yeah! It was brilliant! PAUL: I can still remember the feeling! Bang! Bang! (Turns off tape recorder) GUARD: Everybody inside, now.
As quick as you can.
- Which hospital is he in? SOLICITOR: The County.
It's just a sprained shoulder.
Where's my ma? - Is she with him? - He'll be fine.
Who was it? Who done it? Marshall and his mates.
- You're not his brief, are you? - I was duty solicitor.
He had a replica pistol.
Some of the others had knives.
Terry was lucky.
Why is he picking on your brother? He can't fight back, can he? What else do we know about this Marshall character? - Ask Paul.
He's his mate.
- Was.
What about guns? Paul if there is anything else you think we should know anything at all about Marshall or anyone else, this is your last chance to tell us.
Life is a long time for something you didn't do.
I'm going down.
Aren't I? That's largely up to you.
I'll just have to take a chance.
What has this Marshall got against your boys? He's ignorant like the rest of them.
He used to be Paul's friend, didn't he? Some mate.
Who do you think got him nicking in the first place? What is he capable of? What do you take me for? A grass? Is that how Paul got his gun? Did he buy it from Marshall? How should I know? You're his mother.
I'd have thought you knew most things about him.
Like whether he was protecting someone.
He's refusing to help himself, Mrs Warwick.
- There must be a reason.
- What can he do? He's been fitted up.
They're always nicking him, blaming him for stuff he didn't do.
Even after he went straight.
How long had he kept his nose clean? About six months.
Since Terry came out.
I'll ask you again.
Where were your boys when Claire was shot? At home with me, watching telly.
Just because he has a record doesn't make him a murderer.
My boys don't lie to me, not about nothing.
JULIA: It's a novel experience, I suppose, conducting a trial with no defence.
We've got the defence, all right.
We just can't use it.
Why don't you just go back and confront him with it? It's not too late.
He'll deny it.
Better to keep him on edge for a while.
We'll just have to take the fight to the other side.
What? And sling mud, you mean? If that's all we've got.
FOXCOTT.
How well did WPC Kemble know Mr Warwick? Well, very well.
She used to work at the Craven Road Youth Club on evenings and weekends.
We both helped out there.
Paul was a regular.
What were her feelings for him? Claire genuinely cared about lads like him.
She really believed she could make a difference.
You've already told us, Officer Wooller, that from what Claire said over the radio, she seemed to recognise the person by the doorway.
Yes.
If that person was Mr Warwick, do you think she knew him well enough to have recognised him? Certainly, but she didn't say a name.
FOXCOTT.
Wait there.
It's not usual procedure for a single WPC to pursue burglars by herself, particularly at night? No.
And there had been other burglaries at these premises in the past, hadn't there? Quite a few.
A few.
And some false alarms.
But there was still a chance that Claire would run into burglars.
But they were usually only kids.
Kids or not, burglars often carry weapons, don't they? Sometimes, yes.
What was stolen in these other burglaries? Cigarettes, mostly, and lottery scratch cards.
Where were they kept? In a little lockup in the yard.
The owner felt it was more secure than the shop itself.
Were there any lights in this yard? Not until the alarm went off.
After the shot.
So when Claire went there, it was pitch black.
Well, there were would have been some light from the road behind.
Enough to recognise someone 15 feet away, with their back towards you? Enough to shoot by.
From what you knew of my client at the time, would you say he was someone capable of gunning down a police officer in cold blood? No.
Since you have known him, have you ever seen him exhibit any violent tendencies whatsoever? No.
But there are plenty of violent lads on the estate? So? There always are.
Like Damon Marshall, for instance? I understand you recently arrested him in possession of an imitation firearm.
Yes.
I don't think you believe my client shot Claire Kemble at all.
The officer's speculation isn't evidence, Mr Kavanagh.
No more questions, Officer.
It's a 9mm Makarov, reactivated.
The magazine contained two live rounds.
The bullet that killed her was exactly the same.
We found the spent case and dug the projectile out of the wall behind her.
FOXCOTT.
Describe the adaptations to the gun, it you would.
Well, a new barrel's been roughly bored out and a firing pin fitted.
Is that a difficult operation? The pans can be obtained through mail order.
Anyone with workshop tools could do it, if they knew what to do.
How easy is it to obtain a gun like this? Very, if you know where to look.
100 quid to someone in a pub, or a disreputable dealer.
Now, were any fingerprints found on the weapon? None.
He was probably wearing gloves.
Was Mr Warwick's skin tested for gunpowder residue? Yes, but nothing turned up.
- Were any gloves found? - No.
He probably flushed them down the toilet.
And where exactly did you find this gun? In a builder's skip in Crossland Street, 200 yards from Warwick's house.
DETECTIVE: The tread on the shoe is identical to the footprint found next to Claire's body.
And the DNA match between the blood on the shoe and Claire's blood was identical also.
The defence do not dispute, members of the jury, that the blood on the shoe was Claire's.
And the other item you found in the defendant's bedroom? DETECTIVE: It was a deactivated, 9mm Makarov It's the same model as the murder weapon.
But this one was perfectly legal.
Yes.
It had been certified "deactivated" by the government proof house in Birmingham.
The dealer had a batch of them done.
They were imports from Russia.
Do we know where this gun was bought? Yes, it was sold through a gunsmith's in Dagenham about a year ago.
The shop didn't keep a record of who to.
FOXCOTT.
What do you know about the origin of the murder weapon? It's the same model.
It may well have been part of the same importation.
Thank you.
Your turn.
This gun you found in Mr Warwick's room was certified "deactivated".
In other words, it was nothing more than a toy.
Well, not like any I ever had.
According to the local press, in the three months since Claire Kemble's death, you've recovered more than 40 replica and deactivated handguns, mostly owned by teenagers.
Yeah.
It's almost as if every boy has to have one.
Quite a status symbol.
Well, it's a problem all over the country.
But you found no functioning weapon in Mr Warwick's house.
No.
- And no ammunition? - No.
So the only connection between Mr Warwick and the gun in the skip is the fact that, in common with countless other young men, he had a perfectly legal, deactivated handgun of the same make.
It was exactly the same model.
He also had Claire's blood on his shoe.
Ah, yes.
The shoe.
Was Mr Warwick ever asked to identify the shoe as his? It was sent for analysis as soon as we found it.
So he never did confirm it was his.
Where exactly, in relation to the body, was the footprint found? Here.
A single print, just behind the body.
How big was the gap between the body and the left-hand wall? Erm er three or four feet.
Why do you think it was there? Someone running to the gate would have passed a couple of feet the other side of her.
Yeah, well, you tell me.
Maybe he went over to see what he had done.
A single, clear footprint, square in the middle of a pool of blood.
- Doesn't its position sound rather odd to you? - No.
But the wearer would have had to squeeze between the body and the wall, rather than take the obvious route out of the yard.
What are you saying? That I got another shoe and made that footprint myself? Did you? No.
And I resent that suggestion.
Thank you, Officer.
My lord, there's a brief matter I would like to raise in the absence of the jury.
Very well.
My lord, at the end of her cross-examination, Miss Piper accused Detective Sergeant Quixall of flagrant dishonesty.
In effect, she accused him of planting WPC Kemble's blood on Mr Warwick's shoe.
Surely, it now follows that Mr Warwick's character must also be in issue.
My lord, I did no such thing.
It was DS Quixall himself who suggested it.
But my learned friend adopted that allegation and sought a direct response to it.
JUDGE: That must be right, Miss Piper.
I certainly never intended to accuse the officer of dishonesty.
But that was nonetheless the effect of what you said.
I would submit that the defence have lost their shield, and that Mr Warwick's convictions may now be put to the jury.
Go ahead, Mr Foxcott.
FOXCOTT.
On 13 April, he was convicted of yet another offence of burglary, this time from an electrical goods shop.
That's correct, sir.
He received a two-year probation order.
So, since he was 12 years old, the defendant has accumulated a total of no fewer than 35 criminal convictions.
DS QUIXALL: Yes, by any standards, it's an appalling record.
Thank you, Officer.
JUDGE: I think that's a convenient place to adjourn.
10:30 on Monday, members of the jury.
Will the court rise? Forget it.
It happens to the best of us.
Sometimes I wonder whether I'm out out for this job.
Don't hang up your wig Yet-.
I reckon you were onto something.
What you doing? This is where she fell.
What's your theory? Claire looks round the gate sees someone she recognises.
What does she say? "Oh, no.
Not again.
" It's dark.
Maybe she thinks it's Paul.
She knows he's not dangerous, so she walks in.
When she gets here, he comes round, sees it's a policewoman and shoots.
It makes a hell of a noise.
He's scared senseless, runs for the gate.
He's not going to stop and inspect her.
There must be lights going on all down the street.
You're assuming we're talking about a rational individual.
Do you park here every night? Yes.
What about the night the policewoman was killed? Yes.
But you said you didn't want a statement.
We're not police.
KAVANAGH: OK! Can you see me? What do you think? Walk towards the back of the shop.
There.
She fell to her left head closest to the wall, face up.
My guess is she never even saw the gun.
She was concentrating on the person she could see breaking into the back door of the shop.
The person she recognised.
Paul.
- But he wasn't alone.
- No.
Someone was trying to break into the lockup.
And he had a gun.
Terry, do you think? Only Paul can tell us that.
I think we need a word with our instructing solicitor.
Hello, Mr Scarsdale? Sorry to call you at home, but I'm afraid we need your help this evening.
We need the original crime report for the attempted burglary.
We'd like you to speak to the owner of a van that parks inside Bundy's yard.
Come on, Gazza! We'll miss our train! Thank you, James.
That's enough.
A little goes a long way with me.
Do you travel much? Well, in the winter, when the flat gets lonely and depressing.
I envy Edward his family.
Do you work? Yes.
I own a modelling agency in Bond Street.
We We handle a lot of men as well.
It sounds very glamorous.
Not really, it's very hard work.
Then when Alistair died, I I didn't have any time for living.
But there's so much I still want to do.
Grab it while you can, that's my motto.
Absolutely.
I thought you might need a hand.
Oh, I think I've got it all under control.
It was very kind of you to invite me.
I hope you haven't found it too awkward.
Lizzie, I think you should know that, at the moment, your father and I are just good friends.
The trouble is, I know he'd like it to be more than that.
He's wonderful company.
As long as you understand, I'm not after the family silver.
She only wants a bit of fun.
No strings attached.
I just don't want him to get hurt.
I hope I've still got his pulling power at 70.
Maybe I should tell him.
Why not let him enjoy himself while it lasts? At least they can't get into trouble at their age.
JUKE BOX: ABBA: Dancing Queen Scotch, please.
I'll get it.
Thanks.
Keith Wooller PC Wooller? Oh.
Of course.
It's not looking very hopeful, is it? I'm sorry.
I shouldn't really discuss the case.
No.
No-one listens to me, anyway.
Just a uniform.
I've been working on that estate since '85.
I've been watching it go downhill ever since.
More and more kids on the scrapheap every year.
None of my bosses gave a monkey's, of course.
Tm this happened.
Now some of them seem to care a little bit too much.
Just a gut feeling.
Good luck.
You're going to need it.
Ah, James.
Great minds Brandy, please.
Large one.
Room number 10.
Oh, I need something to restore my wounded digestion.
Hm! Never again will I suffer one of Maitre Derek's microwave blanquettes de boeuf.
- (Laughs) - Thank you.
Mm! I suppose a sneak preview of the defence is out of the question? I'm still hoping for some last-minute inspiration.
My officers certainly can't see any chinks in our armour.
No.
I don't suppose they can.
- Another? - No, thanks.
I thought I'd just pop out for a quick kebab.
Do you fancy one? Good God, no.
- Do you do this often? - Only on away matches.
Sleep tight, Peter.
RADIO: Techno Good evening.
Er a regular with chilli and onions, please.
Late night for you.
£1.
50.
Thank you.
It smells good.
PROBYN: One o'clock - Ma Favorite.
I'll be waiting.
Well, me, too.
Yes.
Bye.
James will be back tonight.
I thought we might all have dinner together.
Oh, that would be very nice.
Lizzie, you don't altogether approve of Claudia and me, do you? I've nothing to lose.
We always go Dutch.
PROTESTERS: Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! Free Barruba! My lord, I am asking the court to intervene to prevent Miss Barruba being placed into grave, perhaps even mortal, danger.
She is not a criminal.
She does not remain in this country in the expectation of favour or advantage.
She does not even remain here out of choice.
She simply asks that this precious justice, which we take for granted, and the cause of which she has fought for so fearlessly in her own country, now be extended to safeguard her liberty.
My lord, we are all aware of the political pressures under which the Immigration Service operates.
My client may well be one of 40,000 applicants for asylum.
But, in signing the Geneva Convention, this country agreed to honour a principle far higher than mere administrative efficiency.
If these courts cannot provide shelter to the persecuted then we have lost the right to call ourselves a civilised nation.
(Applause from gallery) [WITNESS: He ran past me full pelt 30 or 40 seconds after.]
heard the shot.
FOXCOTT.
You are certain it was him.
Aye.
I've seen him around the estate since he was knee-high.
Did anything else about him catch your eye? Yeah.
I think he was holding something in his hand.
I couldn't see clearly what it was.
But I think it was probably a gun.
Are you sure you weren't mistaken about the identity of the person you saw? No.
It was Paul Warwick, all right.
I'd recognise that little tea leaf anywhere.
Bad news, he is.
What was he wearing that night? Big white trainers, jeans and a dark T-shirt.
You gave exactly those details to the police minutes after you say you saw him, didn't you, when they were perfectly fresh in your mind? Aye.
But you didn't say anything about this gun.
Strange you should forget something so vital.
I didn't know what it was at the time.
I just knew he was holding something.
Come on, Mr Yeats.
You'd just heard a gunshot.
You would have noticed, if seconds later, Paul Warwick ran past, holding a thumping, great piece of hardware like this! It happened so fast.
Since you made your statement, has anyone encouraged you to embellish your evidence? A policeman perhaps? YEATS: No.
Or maybe in your own mind, you put two and two together and made five.
Are you calling me a liar? Not at all, Mr Yeats.
I am simply saying that most people's memories fade with time.
Strangely, yours seems to do the opposite.
Mr Kavanagh will doubtless attack the reliability of this confession.
Are you able to reassure us? I am absolutely satisfied it was genuine.
What makes you so sure in this case? It was the way he seemed to be taking pleasure in boasting jaunting us with what he'd done.
You must have been very close to WPC Kemble in a professional sense.
Of course.
Where were you on the evening of Friday 15 October, two weeks before she was murdered? I don't know.
Didn't you go for a drink with her after work? I can't remember.
A note in her diary for that date reads: "Drink with DIW.
" Might that be Detective Inspector Washbrook? A lot of us go out after work on a Friday.
Do you recognise that wallet? It's got WPC Kemble's initials on it.
Would you look in the back compartment? There's a piece of paper.
Tell us what it is, please.
It's a doctor's certificate in her name.
Dated? 16 October.
Saturday 16 October.
What is it for? Schering PC4.
Otherwise known as the morning-after pin.
Did she have a boyfriend? Not that I knew of.
She must have been sleeping with someone.
Since she didn't collect this prescription, one could conclude that she was not altogether unhappy with the idea of being pregnant.
Your initials appear quite frequently in her diary.
Sometimes it says "Meet DI W".
Sometimes the initials appear by themselves next to what look like little hand-painted love hearts.
Have you any idea what they may have signified? I don't know what you're suggesting.
You were having an affair with Claire Kemble, weren't you? I'm a married man.
Some people might think it unethical for a detective to be heading an investigation into the death of his girlfriend.
She was not my girlfriend.
All right - mistress, if you prefer.
We'll take that as the officer's last word on that subject, Mr Kavanagh.
But it must have been very difficult for you, interviewing a led you suspected of murdering a colleague.
Of course.
Especially when you had no doubt that Mr Warwick was guilty.
The evidence against him was overwhelming.
But you needed a confession to get home and dry, didn't you? The confession has been ruled admissible, Mr Kavanagh.
Any nut will crack if you stamp on it hard enough.
Isn't that right, Officer? I don't want to warn you again.
Very good, My lord.
Let's have a look at some of this overwhelming evidence, shall we? These pictures of the yard were taken by our solicitor early this morning.
Look at the first one.
You will see a transit van parked outside the lockup.
Was it there on the night of Claire's death? Yes.
This picture was taken from the point that Claire was shot.
You can't see much of the lockup door at all, can you? No.
The second photograph shows what she would have seen if she was looking straight ahead.
Tell the jury what we can see.
The back corner of the shop.
Isn't it likely, that in her radio message, she was referring to someone at the back door of the shop, rather than the door of the lockup.
Maybe, but it doesn't prove The position of her body is consistent with her being shot from the right.
The back door of the shop was straight in from of her.
She couldn't see the lockup door at all.
She saw him.
She said so.
And if it was Mr Warwick at the back door of the shop, which showed signs of attempted entry, the killer must have crept unseen around the side of the van.
Did it never occur to you that perhaps there was more than one burglar? DI WASHBROOK: It was a possibility.
KAVANAGH: But not one that you bothered to investigate.
DI WASHBROOK: The evidence led us straight to him.
We are talking about a lad who has never committed a violent offence in his life.
He confessed.
DI WASHBROOK: Innocent people don't do that And that's the best you can offer, is it? We haven't got enough.
Washbrook's hardly going to admit they've got the wrong person.
You think I'm wrong about Terry.
It doesn't really matter, does it? The one thing that could help you, you can't use.
What are you going to do? I'll have to call Paul.
He's a liability, James.
- Peter will wipe the floor with him.
- Good.
Unless he gets hurt, he's got no chance of helping himself.
FOXCOTT.
You've never been very nervous of policemen, have you? Why should I be? Prats, most of them.
And yet, after your arrest, you found them so threatening that you were frightened into confessing.
You're no stranger to police questioning, are you? You should try it.
You had a competent solicitor who explained to you your rights? PAUL: is that what you can it? So, it appears that you made your confession entirely of your own free will.
You try saying nothing when nicked by the bastards.
I suggest the reason you confessed was because you are, in fact, guilty of murder.
I never done it.
How many times do I have to tell you? Then, please, take this opportunity to explain to the jury why you had Claire's blood on your training shoe, and why Mr Yeats identified you as the person he saw running away after the gunshot.
I don't know.
You see, without explanations for these things, we can only come to one conclusion, can't we? You were in that yard when Claire Kemble was shot.
Answer the question, Mr Warwick.
- You were there! - No.
- And you fired the gun that killed her.
- No! You went out to commit a burglary and you took a gun.
When Claire Kemble was unfortunate enough to surprise you, you chose to shoot her, rather than face arrest.
I've told you, I was at home.
Then you walked up to her body and checked to see if she was dead.
No doubt, if she was breathing, you'd have shot her again.
A woman who had shown you nothing but warmth, kindness and compassion.
You did walk up to her.
- No.
- And then you confessed to her murder.
Because you were overcome with, what I can only imagine, was a sickening sense of guilt.
Thankfully, whatever else you may have lacked, you still possessed a guilty conscience.
Re-examination, Mr Kavanagh? My lord, yes.
You've told the court that you were at home throughout the evening that Claire was shot.
Who was in the house? My brother Terry and my ma when she came home.
What time was that? About ten.
What were you doing? - Watching telly.
- All evening? Yeah.
- What was on? - I dunno.
Some film.
Can't you remember? I'm surprised it isn't engraved on your memory.
I fell asleep.
When? Was that before or after your mum came home? After.
So what were you watching when she came home? The news l think.
Did you leave the house at any stage? - No.
- Was that usual? Most lads of your age go out with their mates on a Friday night, don't they? I was looking after Terry, wasn't I? Wasn't he old enough to look after himself? So you spent the evening, nice and cosy, watching telly with your little brother.
Yeah.
Did you ever take Terry out in the evenings? Not really.
He must have got bored, sitting at home all the time.
He can't go out.
He's in court today.
He seems to get around.
Why couldn't you take him out? He's ill.
He's got brain damage.
PAUL: He has moods.
He gets upset.
How did this brain damage happen? You must remember.
In a car crash.
The car crashed into a wall.
He hit his head.
KAVANAGH: Who was the driver? - What's that got to do with it? - It's a simple question.
I was.
- Stolen car? - Well, it wasn't mine.
What happened to Terry afterwards'? They took him into care.
He wanted to come.
I couldn't stop him.
How did your mother react? - Who did she blame? - I don't see the point of this.
It was an accident, for God's sake.
You were driving.
Who do you blame? Was there anyone for you to tum to? Anyone who understood how you felt? There was one person.
Would you say Claire Kemble was a good friend to you? I suppose.
Where did you meet her? Down the youth club.
The young offenders' group.
Yeah.
Your probation officer sent you there, after your last burglary conviction, didn't he? When you started going to the club, you were out of trouble for six whole months.
What brought that about? Terry came home.
I had to look after him, didn't I? No.
He'd never stopped you going out stealing before.
What were your feelings towards Claire Kemble? She was all right.
She wasn't just out to nick you.
KAVANAGH: What about her looks, personality? We've heard what her colleagues thought.
How did you rate her? She was you know kind.
Was she kind to you? Yeah.
- How? - I don't know.
She didn't criticise.
Have there been others like her in your life? Anyone who didn't expect you to take the blame who could see some good in you? A training shoe covered with her blood was in your bedroom 20 minutes after she died.
Whose was it? You and Terry share the room.
It's got to belong to one of you.
Answer the question, Mr Warwick.
It was mine.
That puts you in the yard, doesn't it? So, who was looking after Terry? My mam.
What time does she finish work? She came home early.
During the Ten O'clock News? - Yeah.
- Really? She told the police that she was indoors with you and Terry all evening.
Was she lying? Didn't you tell us that looking after Terry in the evenings was your responsibility? I think you and Terry went out together while your mother was still at work.
Did your mother know about the gun you kept in your bedroom? I dunno.
It doesn't fire, anyway.
- It is yours? - Yes.
Do you know anyone else who's got a gun like it? A lot of the lads on the estate.
Like Damon Marshall? - Has he ever had one that fires? - How should I know? Where do these guns come from? Magazines.
Buy them off mates.
But yours came from a dealer in Dagenham.
- Have you ever been to Dagenham, Paul? - No.
What about when Terry was in a children's home in Hornchurch? It's not a million miles away, is it? KAVANAGH: A couple of stops by train.
PAUL: I wouldn't know.
- Didn't you go and visit him? - Yeah.
So, who got hold of them - you or him? You got hold of them somehow.
They didn't get from a dealer in Dagenham to your house by magic! All the kids up there had them.
I didn't want him to be left out.
They were real hard cases.
You bought your brother a gun, so he could impress the other kids? That was your idea of a helping hand, was it? They were beating him up.
Taking the piss.
What was I meant to do? Did your mother know about this? And you got one for yourself, while you were at it.
They didn't work! - Terry's did.
- I didn't know what happened up there.
There were kids who knew.
They knew how to reactivate guns.
He changed.
He started nicking.
He went really mental.
The gun you bought for Terry is the one that killed Claire Kemble, killed the only person in the world who really believed in you.
And all the jury know for certain is that moments after she was shot, you were standing in a pool of her blood, watching her die.
Will you take the blame again? Whose idea was it to go out - yours or Terry's? Who brought the gun along - you or him? He wanted to go.
Not me.
I was going straight.
Who pulled the trigger - you or him? We were skint! It wasn't much.
Just a scabby shop! There was no-one even in.
- Who killed Claire Kemble? - I never knew it could fire! He didn't tell me.
No-one was meant to get hurt.
But he was your responsibility.
He didn't mean to blow her away! He was like a kid with a toy.
It wasn't my fault.
- He was out of control.
TERRY: No! Paul, don't tell them anything! We weren't there! (Terry sobs) (Terry sobs) I wasn't there.
You may think, members of the jury, that the effect of Mr Warwick's evidence was to seek to pass the blame onto his brother.
Now, if that is your understanding, he must obviously have been telling lies, either to you or to the police.
Now, whether you chose to believe the account he has given here, or the confession he made to the police, is entirely a matter for you.
Madame foreman, on this indictment, it is charged that, on the 28th day of October, Paul Anthony Warwick murdered Claire Kemble On this charge, do you find him guilty or not guilty? Not guilty.
JUDGE: Thank you, members of the jury.
You're free to go, Mr Warwick.
Court, rise.
Well done, James.
I knew you'd make a fight of it.
Right result.
PROTESTERS: We've won! We've won! We've won! This has been a victory over bureaucracy.
A momentous victory for justice.
(Crowd cheers) - We've won.
- We won.
PROTESTERS: We've won! We've won! We've won! We've won! We've won! - You were wonderful.
ALDERMARTEN: Oh, thank you.
There really wasn't much to it once I'd mugged up on the law.
Maybe I'll become a radical barrister full-time, buy myself a red tie.
What do you think? Terry! Terry! Terry! Mum! Mother! Terry! Terry! Terry! Mum! Mum! Terry! ' Mum! Terry! Mum! Terry! Mum! Mum! You made him like this! Don't think you can come back again, Paul.
Paul! They'll never let me have him back again thanks to you.
- Waiter? - Sir? The bill, please.
- Certainly.
(Sighs) Good evening, sir.
My God! He's not allowed to speak to reporters.
(Cheering on TV) TV.
We've won! We've won! We've won! Has he gone quite mad? Well, it's her loss.
She won't find many filthy rich, elderly peers who can cha-cha-cha till sunup.
(Lizzie laughs) Look after yourself.
Phone me when you get home.
Have you added service to the restaurant meals? Because I did leave service separately.
RECEPTIONIST: Yes, sir.
- Here comes Noel Coward.
You got him off, then.
I hear you managed to blame it on the nutter.
You won't be making it to our little function, Peter? Only our guest speaker's got the flu.
Ah.
I'd love to, but I've a long-standing engagement in Gray's Inn.
James does a rather good after-dinner speech.
No, I'm sorry.
I've erm Bolton are on the TV tonight.
Cup tie.
Shame.
Maybe we'll see you again.
Not professionally, I hope.
(Laughter) I'm glad we pleased someone.
Quite a feat, James - winning away and keeping the locals happy.
I've known sweeter victories.
I think we'll mark this one down as a no-score draw.

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