Blood Roots: Are the roots strong enough to save the pandemic survivors? (23 page)

‘And Susan could certainly do with some help in the kitchen,’ Theresa added. ‘With me tied up here she’ll be hard pressed planning lunch and dinner. Maybe you can come up with some nice American food.’

The women moved off, discussing amongst themselves where each would help out.

‘They seem nice,’ Theresa said, looking at Mark, ‘and the doctor.’

‘More than can be said for that Rick,’ Duncan grumbled. ‘One thing I do know,’ he continued in a loud voice as Rick disappeared beneath the oak screen, ‘the Americans aren’t getting the staterooms.
It’s just like pre-pandemic days, bloody foreigners flooding into Britain snaffling the best houses and best jobs.’

‘We’re going to have to do something about the Chatfields, Mark,’ Theresa said, bringing the meeting back on track. ‘There are a lot of angry people here. I can understand that maybe you want to let things cool down a bit, but we have to face the issue.’

‘They’ve already been condemned to death,’ Duncan said. ‘It’s not as if there’s any decision to be made.’

‘The death sentence was commuted by Diana as I understand it,’ Mark corrected him. ‘Legally …’

‘Legally! What’s legally got to do with it? Legal is what we decide is legal.’

Mark looked at Theresa. Her mother had been a barrister, so she was a little more circumspect towards the law than Duncan. ‘It seems to me that going forward we need the rule of law, otherwise things will slide into chaos. We need to adopt a form of law that meets our new requirements.’

‘We’ve got law. We’ve got English law,’ Duncan pointed out.

‘It’s too complex. We need something simple, a basic statement of people’s rights and a simple set of laws.’

‘Like the American Bill of Rights,’ Theresa said.

‘Yes … something like that. I think we should draw up a document over the next three months so the community can vote on it when we elect the new committee.’

‘Sounds fair enough to me,’ Theresa agreed, ‘but we can’t wait three months to deal with Greg and Jasper.’

‘I’m with Theresa,’ Duncan said firmly. ‘If you don’t resolve the matter now, someone will take the law into their own hands. Steven well might, when he finds out the full extent of what Jasper’s been up to with Penny.’

‘I agree we have to do something,’ Mark said. ‘Let’s have a trial.’

Duncan threw up his hands. ‘We’ve already had one. They were found guilty.’

‘From what I’ve heard, it wasn’t a fair trial. They didn’t have defence counsel, for example.’

‘They didn’t need it. They were guilty. Anyway, they were asked if they had anything to say in their own defence — they didn’t. They were found guilty and sentenced to death.’

‘A sentence which, I’ve already pointed out, Diana subsequently commuted to life imprisonment with hard labour.’

‘And a fat lot of good it did her. They executed her! Even if your argument about Diana having commuted their previous sentences is valid, they need to be held to account for Diana’s murder.’

‘I agree. We’ll have another trial.’

The angry look on Duncan’s face suggested he felt he had been tricked. ‘If you say their previous trial was unfair then it cuts both ways. They should be tried for their original crimes again too. I want all their crimes re-tried: the murders, and the rapes — the whole lot.’

‘Fair enough. But we’ll do it properly — judge, prosecution, defence and jury. Do you agree?’

Duncan shrugged his shoulders. ‘That’s OK with me — it won’t make any difference to the outcome.’

Mark turned to Theresa. ‘Would you be prepared to act as judge, just to keep proceedings on an even keel?’

Theresa hesitated. ‘Well … I’ve attended enough of my mother’s trials, and listened to enough legal talk around the dinner table … and I did spend a year at law school before the pandemic broke out … But I wouldn’t want the responsibility of passing the death sentence … I don’t think I could handle that.’

‘Assuming they were found guilty.’

‘Assuming!’ Duncan exclaimed. ‘They’re as guilty as sin and everyone knows it.’

‘Assuming they were found guilty,’ Mark repeated, ‘the jury could make the decision on the nature of the sentence.’

Theresa nodded.

‘There’s only one problem with your daft idea,’ Duncan huffed. ‘You could find a dozen prosecutors, but you won’t find a single person prepared to act as defence counsel.’

‘I will.’

‘Who?’

‘I said, I will. I’ll defend them myself. If the Chatfield boys will have me.’

‘What! You’re crazy. You don’t stand a chance. And you’re asking for trouble. No one will forgive you if you try to defend their actions — least of all Steven.’

‘I tell you what,’ Mark said, jabbing his finger at Duncan. ‘You find the prosecutor and I’ll run the gauntlet of the unpopularity stakes.’

‘Fair enough,’ Duncan agreed, holding out his hand. ‘Better you than me. You always were an obstinate bugger, even as a kid.’

Mark took Duncan’s hand and shook it. ‘Right, now that’s out of the way, how do we get this place really humming? How can we improve everyone’s lives?’

Jasper and Greg’s trial was set down for the third Saturday in May. The charges had been agreed and posted up on the noticeboard in the entranceway to the Great Hall. A copy had also been handed to Greg and Jasper.

The lists were daunting. Greg was charged with the murders of Cameron Steed and Diana Morgan, and with being an accessory to the murders of Margaret Dalton and Mathew Grey. He was also charged with four counts of rape.

Jasper’s indictment was even longer. He was charged with the murders of Warren Dalton and Diana Morgan and with being an accessory to the murders of Margaret Dalton and Mathew Grey. Ten counts of rape were also listed. His last-named victim was Penny.

‘It doesn’t look good, does it?’ Jasper said, looking Mark squarely in the eye. All three were sitting on wooden crates in the Punishment Room. Jasper had been surprised when his unarmed uncle had allowed himself to be locked in the room with him and
Greg, and then asked his escorts Duncan and Steven to leave.

‘No, it doesn’t.’

‘Do you feel safe, locked in here with triple murderers?’

‘What do you have to gain by harming me?’

‘Well, we’ve got nothing to lose by killing you.’ Greg replied, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Judging by these charges, they’re going to execute us anyway.’

‘Even if that is the case, do you have anything to gain by killing me?’

Greg shrugged again. ‘We should kill you. You were responsible for Miles’s death — whether you shot him yourself or not.’

‘Your brother was shot because he, like you, was trying to prevent our escape. And we were escaping because your brother Damian had done something, or was planning to do something — and I still don’t know precisely what — to my son. And I have no doubt that your father, in a fit of rage, murdered my Aunt Margaret in revenge. In other words, cause and effect — a whole string of cause-and-effect scenarios.’

‘Why are you here?’ Jasper asked.

‘I’m offering to defend you against these charges.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I want to try to save your lives.’

Jasper was staring down at the list. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘My paramount reason is that I feel that by killing you we would lose your genes, together with whatever other contribution you could one day make to the future of this community. Much as I hate what you have done,’ he continued, jabbing his finger at the list of charges, ‘including raping my daughter-in-law and every one of my female cousins …’ He was so angry that he was struggling to get the words out, ‘… you showed just a glimmer of decency by protecting Lee, Ruben and Harry from Damian. And despite your threat to Penny, I don’t believe you would have handed any of them over to him. For that reason, I’d like to try to save your lives.’

Jasper’s voice had lost its former arrogance. ‘Diana commuted
our death sentences to life with hard labour. I’m not sure I could face life imprisonment, hard labour or no hard labour. I’m only forty-one.’ He shook his head. ‘Thirty or forty years locked up in a place like this? I don’t think so. I’d go mad.’

‘I can’t make you any promises,’ Mark said quietly. ‘Locking you up indefinitely doesn’t make sense to me either. What we have to do — what
you
have to do — is come up with some way you can repay the community for the harm you’ve done.’

‘You’re no lawyer,’ Greg sneered. ‘What makes you think you can defend us? We’d be better off defending ourselves.’

Mark shook his head. ‘Greg, you’re a fool. The prosecutor won’t be a lawyer either. What you’re faced with here is mob rule. You’ve done your relatives so much harm that the minute you open your mouth to defend yourself, they’ll be baying for your blood. You need someone to plead your case. And to be blunt, I’m the only person at Haver daft enough to take on your defence.’

‘I’d like you to represent me — both of us,’ Jasper said. He held out his hand. Mark refused to take it.

‘I want to defend you for my own selfish reasons, but I can’t forgive you. Not until you’ve accepted what you’ve done is wrong and I believe you’re truly sorry.’

He walked to the window and called to Duncan and Steven who were sitting on a bench under the colonnade on the other side of Flag Court.

‘You OK?’ Duncan gasped as he and Steven ran up.

‘Of course I am.’

As Steven unlocked the door, Mark glanced towards Jasper and added, ‘I shall need to visit my clients again, in a few days’ time.’

Jasper nodded.

‘So they appointed you as their defence counsel?’ Steven said as the three of them walked under the arch of Cromwell’s Tower.

‘They did,’ he said, ‘eventually.’

Steven shook his head. ‘Well, I’ll be voting for the death penalty. Just so long as you know.’

‘Assuming they’re found guilty,’ Mark said.

‘They’ll be found guilty,’ Duncan said confidently. ‘I’m the prosecutor.’

The day of the trial finally arrived. Both Mark and Duncan had attended a pre-trial meeting with Judge Theresa. She had quickly grown into the role. It helped that she had her mother’s intelligence and bearing. All three were aware the trial was the prototype for any future legal proceedings and they were taking it seriously. The judicial system had been streamlined and new rules drawn up.

All voting members of the community were liable for jury service and a simple ballot would be held to appoint a jury. After considerable discussion it was agreed to limit the jury to seven people. Duncan wanted to call as many witnesses as possible, which would be difficult with a jury of twelve. Mark hoped he would have more chance of persuading a smaller jury.

A little before ten o’clock the community gathered in the Great Hall. The refectory tables had been pushed back against the walls and the benches rearranged facing the dais to form the public gallery. The positions on the dais were arranged in an arc so that all people there could be seen by all members of the public gallery and vice versa.

The left arm of the arc had seven chairs ready for the jury. The centre of the arc was formed by three desks, each with a gilt chair standing behind it. The large centre desk, which had the biggest gilt chair, was for the judge. The smaller desk between the judge and jury had a neat cardboard sign reading PROSECUTION. The desk on the other side had a sign reading DEFENCE. In the right of the defence desk was the prisoners’ dock, specially built by Steven.

The arc was completed by the lectern from which witnesses were to give evidence. Duncan had lobbied hard to have the lectern placed so that witnesses could give their evidence without having to look directly at those in the dock, worried that Jasper might intimidate any witness he called. To his surprise Mark had offered no objection to his request.

As the clock above the West Tower struck ten o’clock, the spectators were all seated in the public gallery. On the tenth chime,
the door behind the dais opened and Theresa, followed by Duncan and Mark, filed in. Those in the public gallery stood, returning to their seats as soon as Theresa was seated.

Theresa wore her mother’s gown and wig. Duncan and Mark wore solicitors’ gowns which Duncan had collected from a law firm in The Shambles off Sevenoaks High Street. Duncan had made an attempt to comb his unruly crop of red hair and had even trimmed his beard, but he still looked more like a farmer than a lawyer.

‘We will first select the jury,’ Theresa announced. ‘This will be by ballot. Seven jurors will be selected. A majority of at least five is required to reach a verdict. If the accused are found guilty, the jury will also decide the sentence. The sentence will be decided by a simple majority, meaning that at least four members of the jury must agree.’

Theresa took a list of names from the top drawer of her desk. Each name on the list had a number written alongside. All members of the community over the age of fourteen except Virginia, Beatrice and Amy had been included.

Mark had argued in chambers that Virginia and her daughters were now full members of the community and should be included in the ballot. Duncan had counter-argued successfully that they were ineligible because they had been complicit in Jasper’s regime and therefore, in a minor way at least, were accessories to the brothers’ crimes.

Theresa nodded to Duncan, who had already placed numbered balls in a lottery drum Steven had made. He turned the handle and Mark drew out the first ball and handed it to Theresa, who consulted her list.

‘Rick Hoff,’ she announced.

Rick swaggered up to the dais, grabbing the chair closest to the judge. Mark suddenly realised that he had no ‘right of challenge’ — not that a challenge to Rick would have been easy. In reality, the five Americans, including Rick, were among the only people in the room who would have been eligible for jury service in pre-pandemic days. They, together with Jane and Zach, were the only adults present who hadn’t been directly affected by Jasper and Greg’s actions.

The oversight of arranging a challenge clause was brought home
by the next name called out: ‘Steven Chatfield.’ His son’s partner had been Jasper’s final rape victim. Steven chose not to sit next to Rick, picking instead the centre chair of the seven.

‘Susan Morgan.’

Mark grimaced. Susan’s mother Diana had been condemned to death by Jasper. Mark had argued before the trial that Diana had committed suicide, but Theresa and Duncan would have none of it. There was no doubt in their minds that if Diana had taken her own life, she had only done so because her execution was imminent. The charge of murder was to stand.

Susan stood and shuffled forward, wincing from the pain in her arthritic knees as she stepped onto the dais. Whether it was because she didn’t like Rick or wanted to walk as short a distance as possible, she chose the seat at the end of the semicircle closest to the public gallery.

‘Jennifer Steed.’

At last, a ray of hope. Mark had heard a rumour that Jennifer had once been Jasper’s mistress. Hopefully she still had a soft spot for him. Jennifer strode purposely to the dais and took the seat next to Rick.

Duncan spun the drum again.

‘Luke Dalton.’

Mark wondered if Luke’s inclusion was advantageous or not. He had a good rapport with the lad but Jasper had killed Luke’s Uncle Warren. The young man seemed somewhat reluctant to make his way to the dais, where he sat beside Steven.

‘Kimberley Steed.’

Mark noted that Kimberley also appeared reluctant to join the jury. Her glasses had been splattered with blood when Greg had shot her father Cameron.

Mark mused on the fact that one of the biggest problems at the trial was that many of the potential jurors were also potential witnesses. It was hardly ideal, but given that Jasper had systematically raped every woman at Haver it couldn’t be avoided. Mark was a pragmatist, however; he felt an unfair trial was better than no trial at
all. He knew that everyone in the hall other than himself wanted the Chatfield brothers executed. Even those such as Jane and Anne who had not lived at Haver now knew of the terror the Chatfield brothers had wrought. Jasper and Greg had no supporters.

It was time to draw the final number. Mark glanced out at the Great Hall. It was clear from the craning of their necks that some people, such as Cheryl and Bridget, were keen to be called. Others, such as Roger, Anne and Jane, were not. He handed the ball to Theresa.

‘Paul Grey,’ she said then, posing the question on everyone’s lips, added, ‘Do you feel well enough, Paul?’ Paul nodded. He wanted to be on the jury. He wanted to try the monsters who had been complicit in the death of his son Mathew.

Cheryl and Bridget helped their father up to the dais and seated him between Luke and Susan.

‘Thank you, members of the jury,’ Theresa said. ‘I will remind you that a guilty verdict requires a majority of five.’ She looked down towards the hall. ‘Roger, could you please take …’ She searched for some faces. ‘… Fergus, Zach and Harry to the Punishment Room and collect the accused?’

‘Shall we tie them up?’ Fergus asked.

Theresa looked at the towering figure of Roger and the tall frame of Zach. She smiled. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary. I’m sure you four can handle them.’ Harry pulled back his shoulders and led the escort party out of the Great Hall.

Five minutes later, Jasper and Greg were led in and ushered into the dock. Mark noticed how small and insignificant the two brothers looked. Their fancy clothes were gone. They were the only people in the hall wearing the hated grey tunics.

Theresa wasted no time. She turned to Greg and read out the list of charges. ‘How do you plead?’

‘Guilty to all charges,’ he said.

Duncan’s face revealed both his surprise and his disappointment.

Mark had expected the guilty plea. He had spent many hours with Jasper and Greg. He had kept his expectations secret from everyone, including his own family.

There was cheering and clapping from both the jury and public gallery.

‘I will have no demonstrations,’ Theresa said sharply in a manner reminiscent of her mother. The hubbub in the Great Hall died down immediately, and several members of the jury blushed.

She turned to Jasper and read out an even longer list. ‘How do you plead?’

‘Guilty to all charges,’ he said.

There was a groundswell of muted comment from the public gallery but no clapping or cheering.

Duncan was visibly annoyed. He had spent many hours preparing his case and coaching his witnesses. He had even used the interval while Roger and his party had been away collecting the accused to make his final plans and to decide which witnesses he would call. He had been cheated.

‘It is the duty of the jury to decide the broad nature of the sentence,’ Theresa said. ‘I myself as judge will decide the details of the sentence, however.’

Mark was taken aback. It had been agreed that the jury would decide the sentence, yet Theresa had taken it on herself to determine the details of it. She had obviously grown in confidence since accepting the role of judge. He could only assume that though she didn’t want the responsibility of deciding on the death penalty, she wanted to control how the executions would be carried out. He couldn’t see a problem with that. Despite the deviation from what had been agreed, he didn’t lodge an objection.