Page 116 of Dissection of a Murder
“My Lady, with permission, I’d like to play a short piece of CCTV to the jury.”
Julian shoots up from his seat. “Your Ladyship, we have had no notice of this,” he barks.
“My Lady, this piece of film had no relevance until Mr. Millman gave his evidence-in-chief and was so skillfully cross-examined by Mr. Kesler. During Mr. Millman’s evidence, matters came to light that have necessitated the introduction of this CCTV into evidence.”
The judge’s eyes flit between Julian and me.
“I’ll allow it, in the interest of justice,” she says.
It’s the CCTV footage from when Jack went to visit Quinn at Diamond Lounge a week before Anton was killed. Both figures can easily be identified in the recording. Quinn looks anxious and heightened, gesticulating in a way that comes across as wild. Aggressive, almost. Jack, in contrast, steps back and holds his hands up. Taking a glance at Julian as it plays, I recognize that he’s livid he didn’t catch this. There’s no way he would have considered Quinn important enough to comb through his work CCTV. One thing that the footage makes clear is that Jack is in no way acting in a threatening manner.
“Can you tell the jury who the two men in that clip are?” I ask the witness, who is reluctant to answer.
“Me…”
“Yes, and who else?”
“Jack.”
“The manyousaid you’d never met before outside of the club. You said when you gave evidence to this court thathehad been intimidatingyou. Your barrister called Mr. Millman a liar when he put forward that it wasyouwho had been behaving threateningly towardhim. He’s certainly not threatening you here, is he? In fact, if anyone looks angry in this video, it’s you.”
Quinn doesn’t say anything.
“Did you forget that you’d met him, or was it a lie?”
“It…you don’t understand—”
“It was a deliberate lie, wasn’t it? Everything Jack has told the court today is true, isn’t it?”
“My dad has been killed and all you’re bothered about is this?” he yells, swiping his arm toward Jack.
“Please tell the court where you were on the night your father died.”
“I was at work. My final shift before I left for uni.”
“And after that?”
“Innocence Bar. We always went on Friday nights. Everyone from school did, it was the place to be. But, also, why would I go to the place where I’d allegedly killed someone? Explain that to me!”
“Why would you want to go to a bar where one of the bouncers was intimidating you?”
It silences him. He knows his story doesn’t add up.
“I’d have been the only one not going. I wasn’t going to lethimruin my final night at home.”
“What time were you at Innocence until?”
“Not late. I was driving because I went there straight from work and I had to travel to Cambridge the next day. I didn’t stay long.”
“Where did you go after you left?”
“I went home around 11 p.m. I was with Mum when she got the phone call about my father, and we went to the hospital. Look, you can’t frame me for anything.”
“Tell me—how long were you in Innocence?”
“Why is this relevant? You can’t do this to me! I’m one of the victims here. You have no evidence, except the word of a known criminal. Unless his phone turns up, which apparently has a video with me on it, you’ve got nothing. And even that won’t show what he’s claiming.”
“You’re quite right, Quinn. That phone has been the one thing in this trial that none of us can pin down. I was hopingyou, perhaps, saw something, given you were there the night it went missing.”
