Page 124 of Dissection of a Murder
“So, that’s it?” he asks eagerly, facing me. “No more evidence? That’s all the jury will hear?”
I swallow hard. I know he wants something more, but I can’t give it to him.
“Yes, that’s it.”
He is fidgeting again, scraping his hair back.
“I’m going to be found guilty, aren’t I?” he whispers. His breathing has become heavy.
“Jack, it’s OK,” I tell him. Placing my hand gently on his arm, I wait until his eyes are level with mine. “It’s going to be OK.”
He nods quickly, anxious to believe me. To trust me.
“Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”
The truth is, I’m as terrified as he is.
I walk into court a different person from yesterday, as does Julian. The tension in the air feels impossibly thicker than it has over the last two days.
Everyone slots into their positions, making way to start at 10:30 a.m. sharp.
“Mr. Kesler,” the judge says, inviting Julian to begin his speech. He looks dreadful, like a man who’s been up all night, which he very likely has. Far from the slick pro who appeared on day one of this trial. He now stands before the jury as a tired, unshaven arsehole who requires notes to lead his speech.
The jury still hang on to Julian’s words, though, as they always do. Even operating at 50 percent, he’s still a better advocate than most.
“Where is this mystery lover?” he asks during his closing submissions. “Isn’t it ludicrous to suggest that someone who professes to love you would rather risk you being sent to prison for life than admit to a crime they themselves committed? Does that sound like love to you?
“Jack Millman is a liar who commits heinous crimes and then spins elaborate stories in the hope that jurors fall for them. He is untrustworthy. He is a cold-blooded killer. And I invite you to find him guilty of murder.”
Julian emphasizes all the evidence that goes against us: no comment throughout the investigation, the length of time it took to call an ambulance, the bungled attempt to “hide” the murder weapon, not to mention the sheer unbelievability of Jack’s version of events.
Some of them nod along, but others remain stony-faced. Occasionally, some of them turn their heads to look at Jack in the dock, as if thinking,Are you capable of what he’s saying? Are you?
When he finishes, Julian sits dramatically, swishing his robes out of the way before doing so. I always used to think it was cool. Now I just find it irritating.
Being the advocate closest to the jury box, I stand and turn toward it. I’m about five feet away. All twelve jurors stare at me, waiting for me to convince them my client isn’t guilty of murder.
“What kind of man is Jack Millman?” I begin. “He is the kind of man who has affairs with married women,” I say slowly, making eye contact with every single juror. “That doesn’t sit well with most of you, does it? It doesn’t sit well with me, either.
“You may find his relationships unpalatable. You might consider his lifestyle unsettling. But you are not here to judge this man on where his moral compass lies. So, what is this case really about? At the heart of this case is the death of a man, a husband and father. You are tasked with deciding whether Jack Millman murdered Anton Smythe. His defense is simple—‘It was someone else.’ It seems to me this case can be summarized by the following: good people do bad things. Conversely, bad people can also do good things.”
I’ve hooked them. Each one has locked eyes with me. They don’t know where I’m going with this. There are various angles I could have taken. I decided to change tactics at the last minute. I hope it’s enough.
“By all accounts, Jack Millman is a ‘bad’ person. As soon as he was old enough to be in it, he entered the prison system. You, like anyone, would have him down as guilty from the off. But he’s also the kind of man to be up front about his past. I could have prevented you, the jury, from knowing all about his background. I could have made an application to stop the prosecution from telling you about his previous convictions, but Jack Millman stopped me.That’sthe kind of person Jack Millman is. Ask yourselves, are those the actions of a man who has anything to hide?
“Jack Millman is the kind of man who, by the Crown’s own admission, had the opportunity to flee the scene of this murder, but didn’t. He had a window of time to make a run for it but chose to face the police and go willingly to the station. It was he who called 999 to seek medical help.
“So, let me ask the question again. What kind of man is JackMillman? I would say he is a man who would rather risk life imprisonment for an offense he didn’t commit than destroy the life of someone else. He is a man who cares more about protecting a vulnerable, scared woman than his own welfare. And let’s not forget the vital piece of evidence in this case—the murder weapon, the kettlebell. DCI Brady himself said it was used by someone who had “no knowledge of evidence or criminal law” and that replacing it by the door was a “poor attempt to manipulate a crime scene.” Jack Millman has been in the justice system since he was ten years old. It is nonsensical to suggest he would have made such a rookie mistake.
“How easy it is to judge others from a distance,” I continue. “It would be easy for me to stand here and paint Anton Smythe as a morally corrupt criminal judge who breached every ethical code by going to visit Jack Millman that night. It would be easy—given Jack Millman’s evidence—for me to smear Anton Smythe as a nasty, vindictive, aggressive, privileged toff who deserved what happened to him. That is what the prosecution wants me to say.
“Unfortunately, life is not black and white. It is filled with a spectrum of gray. It is complex, layered, nuanced. And so is this trial. You are not here to cast the easiest judgment. You are here to make the correct one.
“I submit to you that Anton Smythe was a good man, a dedicated husband, and, above all, a caring father—and it was this that led him to Jack’s flat on that fatal night. No parent wants to see their child in trouble. But he got it wrong. His professional role in the criminal justice system skewed his perception of what action to take, and that was a mistake. Why?
“Because, sometimes, even good people do bad things. We are all flawed. Even Anton Smythe.
“Enter Jack Millman—always choosing the wrong path, always making the wrong decisions. He saw Anton’s actions as wrong andrefused to cooperate. Ironic, isn’t it? Coming from a criminal. But, we have evidence of Jack speaking to Quinn a week before the murder. Something that, crucially, Quinn lied about under oath. The facts are there, ladies and gentlemen. Jack is the one who made the right decision on that night when he refused to take the money Anton Smythe offered him.
