At 7 p.m., in the Hoxton office, computer programmer Rio Zambrano, former Met detective Paul Constantinidi and Gready’s solicitor, Nick Fox, sat at the conference table with the large computer monitor on the wall in front of them displaying an image of Hugo Pink.
‘OK, guys, we got to first base,’ Fox said. ‘This gentleman was only too happy to take our offer to help him out of his financial hole. What he said in the jury room today has worked. So now we need to turn our focus on the other potential problem jurors — and witnesses. Let’s start with the jurors.’
He clicked a button on his mouse and the image changed to the silver-haired man in his sixties.
‘Mike Roberts,’ Fox said. ‘Retired former Detective Superintendent with Hampshire Police. All we really know about him is that he was forced to take early retirement. There’s a good chance he’s bitter about that, but we need more information on him — I’m working on it.’
He clicked the mouse again. A photograph appeared of a slender man with rimless glasses, his fair hair fashionably styled. Moments later, more images of him came onto the screen in sequence, and then a Wikipedia entry.
Toby DeWinter, 31, Actor. Married to Michael — né Davenport.
‘What do we know about him, Nick?’ Paul Constantinidi asked.
‘Gay, left wing, LGBT+ activist, very involved in Brighton Pride. Intellectual. Couldn’t call which way he would decide. But he might take the side of the underdog.’
Constantinidi nodded. ‘I’ll see if I can dig up anything on him.’
Both men grinned. Rio Zambrano, getting their gist, grinned also.
Next up was tight-faced Maisy Waller, with a silver cross on a chain around her neck.
‘Single,’ Constantinidi said. ‘Attends a High Anglican church. Lives with her elderly mother incapacitated with dementia. A good Christian, she’s a likely forgiveness merchant. “Not guilty” should be an easy win.’
They carried on through the list of jurors.
The one that all three agreed was another potential problem was the horsey woman, Gwendoline Smythson, who, from the sound relayed back to them via the bug implanted in Meg Magellan’s burner phone, had already decided Gready was guilty from the prosecution’s opening statement.
What they needed to be wary of, Nick Fox cautioned the two men, was getting a hung jury. They needed an out-and-out ‘not guilty’ verdict on each count. Anything less could result in a retrial. Which meant it was going to be down to Meg Magellan’s powers of persuasion, along with any influence they could bring on dissenting jurors.
She would have her work cut out. And Fox knew very well, from his reading of the disclosure documents, that some of the evidence against Gready was extremely damning. Therein lay the big difference between having a jury trial and not. Judges wanted facts; juries wanted to listen to stories. Winning or losing a case was in large part a question of who told the jury the best story, the prosecution counsel or the defence. They could not take the risk of this trial ending up in front of a judge, solo. Absolute care was needed. And he had found generally throughout his career that if you wanted someone silent, the next best thing to killing them was to frighten them — frighten them like they’d never known fear before.
When they had finished identifying the potential problem jurors, Nick Fox next looked at the witnesses who would be presenting evidence for the prosecution. Several would be a problem. There were a number of ‘expert witnesses’ — people with the credentials to be an acknowledged authority in their field. He had read all of their statements. And the facts supporting them.
And the witness they were about to hear was going to be Meg Magellan’s first big challenge.