Post Mortem by Gary Bell (inspirational books for students .TXT) 📗

was brought up into the dock. She looked utterly catatonic. I tried to convince myself that she might be the mastermind behind all of this, but my heart still wouldn’t believe it.

The final witness for the prosecution was Linford.

He almost seemed to physically steam when he caught my eye on the way to the witness box. It wasn’t the first time he’d given evidence in this case – OICs are often called and then re-called at various apposite times throughout – but it would surely be the last.

‘Good morning, Mr Linford,’ the judge said. ‘Mr Garrick?’ which was her way of ceding the floor.

As ludicrous as it seemed in light of subsequent events, because this trial was still only regarding the drugs in the car, Garrick asked Linford simple questions, mostly surrounding Charli’s original interview, and why she’d answered ‘no comment’ to the majority of his questions. After a mere twenty minutes it was time for my cross-examination.

I got to my feet and tried to haul up a smile for the man who had just gifted me yet another death threat.

‘Detective Inspector Linford, during the defendant’s original interview, was she represented by a solicitor?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘The lady sitting behind you. Ms Roth.’

‘Before the interview commenced, did the defendant have a meeting in private with her solicitor?’

‘Yes.’

‘And when the interview commenced, did the solicitor confirm that, on her advice, Miss Meadows was going to answer “no comment” to any question asked?’

‘She did. I made it clear to Miss Meadows that it was her choice, irrespective of the advice she’d received, whether or not she answered any questions or offered an explanation. I also explained that if she later relied on anything given in evidence, which she hadn’t already raised in my interview, then the jury would be entitled to draw whatever inferences from her silence they deemed appropriate.’

‘Did she answer any questions?’

‘Only one or two, in so far as she claimed to have no idea how the drugs ended up in her car.’

‘Regarding access to drugs in Wormwood Scrubs, based on your inquiries, would you say that they were rife?’

‘That appeared to be the case.’

‘Were they rife before Miss Meadows started working there?’

‘I think that would be fair to say, yes.’

I nodded, running my hands along my own robes. ‘Detective Inspector Linford, do you know a young man named Omar Pickett?’

‘My Lady!’ Garrick bellowed, leaping up. ‘A matter of law has arisen.’

‘Yes, Mr Garrick, I see that,’ she replied. ‘Does it have to be dealt with in absence of the jury?’

‘I’ve no objection to the legal matter being dealt with in front of the jury,’ I noted. ‘I’ve nothing to hide from them.’

‘It’s not about having something to hide,’ Garrick spat, and then glanced to the panel. ‘As Mr Rook well knows, legal matters should be resolved in the jury’s absence.’

The judge asked the jury to leave us while the matter was resolved, and I did my best to look perplexed as they filed out of court. When they were gone, Garrick returned to his feet.

‘My Lady, Omar Pickett is a paid police informer who has waived public-interest immunity as to his status and was due to give evidence in another courtroom in here this week. What relevance he, or his relationship to DI Linford, has to this case can only be none.’

‘Maybe the detective inspector should wait outside,’ she replied.

Linford needed no second invitation, and he withdrew from the court.

‘Mr Rook?’ she continued.

‘My Lady, Omar Pickett is indeed a paid police informant who set up the drugs raid to which Mr Garrick is referring. I believe that these dealers knew they were being set up, and they had every intention of going into Wormwood Scrubs to expand their criminal operation. The defence say that this gang monopolised the drugs trade within the Scrubs by poisoning thirteen inmates, which they did only days after arriving as a way to spread terror into those loyal to the former empire inside the prison. If I can establish that through Linford, then I can show to the jury that others were running the drug trade within the Scrubs.’

‘All very persuasive,’ Garrick conceded, ‘but it misses one crucial point. Even if Mr Rook’s analysis is correct, Miss Meadows could still have been the link supplying these dealers within the walls.’

‘Exactly,’ I agreed. ‘All the more reason for me to establish through the witness that there is no link between Omar Pickett’s gang and my client.’

The judge leaned back into her chair, digesting the tale, and nodded slowly. ‘I will allow you a modicum of leeway on this point, Mr Rook, but I advise you to proceed with care. You are on the thinnest of ice.’

‘Thank you, My Lady.’

Linford was brought back into the court, followed by the jury.

‘Mr Linford,’ I said, ‘before Mr Garrick’s interruption, I asked if you know Omar Pickett.’

‘You know that I do. You also know that he was the victim of a drive-by shooting last night.’

‘Goodness,’ the judge intervened. ‘Is he all right?’

‘He is in hospital recovering from his injuries, My Lady,’ Linford said. ‘Thankfully, those injuries do not appear to be life-threatening.’

‘How do you know Mr Pickett?’ I continued.

‘Omar Pickett is a low-level drug dealer, whom I first arrested back in December of last year. He is also a registered police informant, and I am his handler.’

‘Among the information he gave you throughout the course of your working relationship,’ I said, ‘did any of it relate to another case involving members of the so-called E10 Cutthroats, a gang originally from the Leyton area of London?’

‘Objection, My Lady.’ Garrick was back on his feet. ‘Mr Rook’s fishing expedition is about to jeopardise the separate ongoing trial to which I was referring only moments ago!’

‘On the contrary,’ I said, ‘the case to which my learned friend is referring isn’t likely to see a courtroom for some time. It therefore cannot be jeopardised.’

‘How could you possibly know that?’ Garrick snarled.

‘Gentlemen,’ Lady Allen snapped, followed by an apologetic glance to the jury, ‘let’s