Find Them Dead

57 Wednesday 15 May

Meg was struggling to concentrate this morning because she was so worried about her daughter.

All night she had been fretting about Laura doing the zip wire today. How many other dangerous sports were she and Cassie engaging in on this trip that they weren’t telling her about? All the time with someone watching them? Laura had promised to text her after she’d done it, to let her know she was safe.

It was 10.45 a.m. when Stephen Cork called the final witness who worked for Terence Gready’s firm, an intelligent-looking woman in her late twenties, with long, layered brown hair. Her name was Sophie Butt.

Watching her closely, Meg could see, from her body language, that she was both a determined character and a loyal employee.

‘Mrs Butt,’ Cork said, ‘could you tell us the capacity in which you were employed by the defendant?’

She spoke with clear diction and had quite a posh accent, Meg thought.

‘I was Mr Gready’s secretary and the receptionist at TG Law.’

‘And how long had you been employed in this capacity?’

‘Over eight years.’

‘To what extent were you aware of Mr Gready’s day-to-day activities?’

‘Well, very aware, I kept his diary,’ she answered stiffly.

‘And in keeping his diary, you were aware of his daily appointments and meetings?’ Cork asked.

‘I was, yes.’

‘All of them?’

‘All of them,’ she said, resolutely.

‘On the morning of Wednesday November 21st last year, do you recall Mr Gready meeting at any time with a gentleman by the name of Michael Starr? Quite a distinctive-looking man, it would seem, with a prosthetic right arm.’

‘No, I don’t,’ she said.

‘Does the office have a visitors’ book where guests sign in and out?’

‘No,’ she answered.

‘Is it possible Mr Gready could have met with him without your knowledge?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Would there ever be meetings Mr Gready held that might have escaped your notice?’

‘Not during business hours, certainly not. Mr Gready was a busy man, much in demand — he relied completely on me for keeping his schedule.’

‘Would you organize his meetings, court appearances and such?’

‘I would keep a diary of his commitments.’

She was clearly thinking carefully each time before she spoke. Meg wondered if she had been coached for this grilling.

‘And you would ensure he was not double-booked, was in the right place at the right time, and keep his diary up to date?’

‘Correct.’

‘Did you always know exactly your boss’s movements, or did he ever do some things himself without informing you?’

‘We always worked closely as a team,’ she replied.

‘Was there any flexibility in your working arrangement for Mr Gready to meet anyone without your knowledge?’

‘I would say not really, no.’

Meg, in the jury box, wondered exactly where this was going. She rather liked this woman, who stood with her head held very high, her body language telling Stephen Cork she was not going to be intimidated by him.

There was a sudden, expectant hush in the court. All eyes locked on Cork. Clearly some kind of sucker punch was coming.

Without taking his eyes off the woman, he said, ‘In Tab M of the bundle you will find a statement that you gave to the police, shortly after Terence Gready’s arrest.’ He turned to the jury, indicating for them to check their bundles. Then Cork’s assistant counsel, Paul Williams, handed him a document, marked with fluorescent tags.

‘Mrs Butt, do you recall giving a statement to the police on the 11th of December 2018?’

‘Yes,’ she replied.

He then asked the usher to pass the statement to the witness.

‘Mrs Butt, do you recognize this document?’

‘Yes, it’s the statement that I made to the police.’

Cork said, ‘Might I ask you to read paragraphs 12, 13 and 14 just to yourself?’

After a short time, she looked up and said she had done so.

Cork said, ‘In your evidence you stated that Mr Gready would not meet anyone without your knowledge — that is what you said just now, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

Cork continued. ‘But that isn’t quite what you told the detectives in your statement on the 11th December?’

For the first time, Sophie Butt looked flustered. ‘Well — not exactly, no. I was confused and frightened when speaking to the police.’

‘Your exact words were: My boss is mostly pretty good at keeping me filled in, but he’s a very busy man, much in demand, and does sometimes forget to tell me about appointments.’

Cork had just the hint of a predatory smile on his face. ‘This is what you told the police. In light of this, can you assure this court categorically that your boss did not meet Michael Starr on the morning of Wednesday November 21st last year? Can you be absolutely certain that Mr Gready and Mr Starr did not meet?’

She wavered. ‘Well, not completely certain I suppose, no. But there is no client file on a Michael Starr.’

‘And would there be files on clients, generally?’

‘Without exception.’

Cork nodded. ‘So, can we safely say from that, Mr Starr is not a client of TG Law?’

‘Yes, you can.’

‘So, if indeed a meeting took place on that day between the defendant and Mr Starr, it would have been of a personal or private matter?’

‘Quite possibly.’

‘Something they might not have wanted recorded, which was why no file was opened?’

Primrose Brown jumped up, indignantly. ‘Your Honour, that is mere speculation on my learned friend’s part.’

Nodding, the judge turned towards the jury. ‘You will please ignore that last remark by the prosecution.’

Shit, Meg thought. Cork was cunning. Just by making that suggestion, however wrong he was to have made it, the damage was done. It would stick in the rest of the jurors’ minds. He had successfully driven a locomotive through Sophie Butt’s credibility.

‘Thank you, Mrs Butt, no more questions.’ He took his seat.

Primrose Brown rose. Her junior barrister, Crispin Sykes, passed her a sheet of paper, which she in turn handed to Sophie Butt.

‘Mrs Butt,’ she said, ‘I would like you to tell this court what this page is.’

The woman studied it for some seconds, then said, ‘It is a copy of Mr Gready’s diary page, from November 21st last year.’

‘Would it be Mr Gready’s office diary?’

‘Yes.’

‘Containing his appointments?’

‘That is the function of office diaries.’

Her response provoked several smiles. But not from Cork.

‘You are certain?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Thank you.’ She addressed the witness again. ‘Mrs Butt, could you please read out to the court the entries for the morning of Wednesday November 21st?’

The woman studied the sheet, then began. ‘At 8.30 a.m. I was going through three case files relating to forthcoming court appearances with Mr Gready. At 9 a.m. he had a client meeting with a lady charged with DUI.’ She paused and smiled at Ms Brown. ‘Driving under the influence of alcohol,’ she said, by way of clarification.

‘Thank you, Mrs Butt, I am familiar with the term.’

Butt continued. ‘At 10 a.m. he met with a gentleman charged with possession of stolen goods. At 10.45 a.m. he went out to a dental appointment. He returned to the office at 11.30 a.m., where he had a sandwich delivered, to enable him to work through the lunch hour, preparing for a court hearing in the afternoon.’

Primrose Brown continued. ‘So, Mrs Butt, in checking the diary for that day it appears that Mr Gready was busy throughout and only left the office for a dental appointment.’

‘That is correct,’ Mrs Butt replied.

‘Does your boss have a separate diary for private events?’ the QC asked.

‘Not to my knowledge, no.’

Brown thanked her. ‘I have no more questions.’

Stephen Cork stood. ‘One last question for you. The court has heard evidence indicating that Michael Starr entered the premises where you worked, having been buzzed in. Do you recall seeing him that day?’

‘No, I do not.’

‘If you did not see him, where would he have gone in the building?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Thank you. No more questions.’

Mrs Butt was instructed to leave the witness box and she walked calmly out of the courtroom.

The rest of the day was taken up by the prosecution reading a number of statements from witnesses. These had been agreed in advance with the defence, and included evidence of the arrest of Gready, provided by a number of police officers. There was also additional evidence from Border Force officers who had been deployed at the port at the time of the attempted drugs importation. The jury then heard evidence from the forensic laboratory confirming that the white powder, seized from the vehicle, was cocaine and was analysed to be of high purity.

Primrose Brown rose and addressed Jupp. ‘Your Honour, there is an issue I need to raise with you without the jury present.’

The judge looked at the clock. It was coming up to 4.15 p.m. He turned to the jury. ‘As you have just heard, there is an issue we need to sort out. I will adjourn court and we will recommence at 10 a.m. tomorrow.’ He looked at Cork, then at Brown. ‘Come to my chambers in five minutes.’