"I heard you wanted to understand what will be happening in a few days." The kind attorney working for the prosecution as the human relation to the case greets me as we meet at a very public Pret in London.
I take a sip of my coffee as he sits by my side with his order in hand. He has been the one guiding me through my deposition and reviewing with me the evidence I had gathered and witnessed to make sure everything would be solid coming to trial. He takes a piece of his muffin and puts it in his mouth.
"Honestly, Josh, I am very confused about everything that will be happening and has already happened. And my ignorance makes me incredibly anxious." I chuckle, but only because my nerves have been eating me alive these past few days, and I don't want to burden Marcel with any of it.
"We don't want that. I'm here to answer your questions to assure your testimony is clear and as true to your experience as possible."
"Could you explain to me in the vernacular from the start what exactly happened?"
"Where do you want me to start?"
"The night I went to the police with pictures and videos of the evidence of Andrew Wright's murder in Kristofer Alexander's house."
"Alright. The police reopened the case from Valentine's Day, twelve years ago. A new detective took the case to investigate the case and the new evidences found in his safe. The officers that worked the case twelve years ago were contacted and the investigation was relaunched. We reviewed the evidence, and came to new conclusions. The CPS, which is the Crown Prosecution Service, decided that the case had enough evidence to summon Kristofer Alexander. At that point, there was the question of bail or custody. Since the defendant didn't surrender to the justice of his own free will, bail was originally denied. He chose to pay for his own representation, and his council guided him to a plea."
"What's a plea?"
"If they plead guilty or not guilty. He evidently chose not guilty. Choosing not guilty meant we were going to trial. His council then had the choice between Magistrate Court or the Crown Court. They chose the Crown Court, that's why getting to trial was so long."
"Why did they choose the Crown Court?"
"I'm really dumbing it down for you. And I'm giving you my opinion. This is a friendly meeting, not an official one. Don't hold anything I tell you against me."
"Of course not. I really appreciate you meeting with me."
"They made the smartest move for their case. By pleading not guilty they are entitled to something called advance disclosure, which means the defendant is entitled to see all evidence gathered against them."
"Are you telling me that they know our entire case?"
"They have all the evidence, all the testimonies, all the expert reports we have ordered. But they don't know our narrative. By choosing the Crown Court, they plead their case to a jury, not Magistrate. They have a higher chance of leading the jury–or fooling– if you will, the jury in another way then the one we will try to lead them into thinking. We are trying to prove beyond reasonable doubt that Kristofer Alexander is responsible for the premeditated murder of Andrew Wright. Not the murderer. But responsible for his death. Are you following?"
"I think I am."
"Having decided to advance with the Crown Court, they then got to what's called 'case management hearing'. They decided to plead not guilty, so the case management hearing was in far greater depth because they needed to think about exhibits, witnesses, the length of time that the case is likely to take, calling a jury and jury selection. This is where the administration of the case happened in pre-trial. Then, with their not guilty plea, we were supposed to proceed with trial."
"What happened?"
"His wife, who was nowhere to be found for months, showed up. In light of new evidence, the police asked for more time to look at said evidence, including her testimony into the case. That allowed his legal team to ask for bail again. That's when Marcel testified, at the bail hearing, that he considered his life in danger–and yours–not wanting to let him walk free awaiting the trial. We had to redo the administrative work we had already done. We had to inform the court if there were any issues, how many witnesses each side will be bringing, whether there had been any admissions made in the process at all. We had to know if there was an admission made at the police station which has since been withdrawn. We had to know: what are the exhibits and how many of them are there? What documents will be used by the defendant during the trial?
Were there any contentious points of law? Are there any questions about admissibility
of evidence? Is one side likely to say that that piece of evidence is hearsay or that exhibit cannot be admitted for a particular reason and how long they think the trial is likely to last bearing in mind all of these other issues. So most of these things are done in a questionnaire and submitted to the court."
"So that questionnaire is done? Correct?"
"Yes, we are at the trial stage of the proceedings. Do you understand more now?"
"I think I do. The only thing I can't wrap my mind around is bail. If he is accused of murder, why is there the possibility for him to walk around free?"
"The Bail Act 1976 gives a general right of bail. So what it says is: everybody is entitled to bail, unless certain things exist. It also says that bail can be given at a police station if you are charged at a police station. Generally, court bail is given through the Magistrate's court and, if that's granted, the defendant is released from custody until
their court date or until they have to reappear at a police station. It may be that you're bailed to appear back in court to hear the case one month from now. It might be that the police have started the investigation they don't have enough evidences of yet and therefore they might want another month to investigate further and they will bail you to reappear at the police station where they will either interview you again and charge you or they will tell you that they didn't find sufficient evidence and then the charge will finish. In our case, bail was refused because the court saw the possibility of breach of bail. The court had enough doubts that Mister Alexander might abscond like he had before or even that he might commit an offence whilst he's on bail. Whether it's interfering with witnesses to stop them from testifying or witness tampering or also trying to hide evidence. Those reasons are why he was refused bail."
"I'm really not comfortable being in the same room as him."
"I really understand that. We are trying to prove to a jury that this man premeditated the murder of your boyfriend's father. Believe me, I've been through it often enough to know the distress it may cause to be in the same room as someone like him. But you are completely safe. If there's anything, you can call me. You call the police. If you get any more threats, we use them as evidence to convict by presenting them to the jury."
"But didn't you say evidence had to be submitted before the trial?"
"Yes, but if something were to come up as new evidence, the judge will allow it if it's pertinent to the case. It's not like we voluntarily omitted something and blindsided the defence. We cannot do that. It's malpractice."
"So what do you need me to do?"
"All you need to do, Grace, it's to relax. Stay at home with your boyfriend. Try to rid yourself of this anxiety. We got everything under control."
"Are you saying we will win?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all. The trial won't be easy. We are going against sharks. But until then, there is nothing more you can do to help us."
-
Silence weights on every soul in this courtroom. The judge looks at both sides of the court after a long day of opening statements and witness testimonies from police officers that came to Andrew and Marcel's rescue. My heart never felt so tight in my chest as when Marcel was forced to relive that trauma all over again. I ache for him. I have to keep reminding myself to be strong, not to cry when I hear the gory details of my fiancé's assault. And it's just the beginning...
"Is the witness subject to recall?" The judge's voice breaks the silence loudly.
"No, your Honour." The first lawyer of the defence legal team responds. My heart squeezes tight in my chest, hoping with everything that I am that the judge calls it a day.
"The court is adjourned for today. We'll meet tomorrow at nine and we'll continue with the questioning of witnesses." The judge concludes with a stern tone.
His voice echoes in the room. It vibrates through me to make me realise how stiff my body has become. The hand that held Marcel throughout these whole proceedings is sweaty and cold. We haven't said a word to each other all day. I think we barely breathed. We sat at the far end of the room, the last row, not wanting to be acknowledged, nor distured. I knew Kate was here, but I wasn't going to let that influence us in any way.
We all stand in unison as we watch the jury leave slowly out of the courtroom, followed soon after by the judge. I grip Mace's hand with a new strength as it is now the time for Mister Alexander to leave the courtroom with four of his trusted lawyers. I look straight in front of me. I don't want to make eye contact with Kate before she leaves as well. I don't know if she noticed us, I make a point to look at Marcel.
The room is almost empty when the bailiffs escort the last people out, us included. We walk outside the courtroom to leave the building. We walk away from the crowd and leave quietly. Only when we really found ourselves alone in the car, our doors locked, did Marcel speak to me for the first time in hours.
"Are you alright? You're shaking."
"I'm alright. Just exhausted. I can barely wrap my head around the fact that we have to go again tomorrow, let alone have weeks more of trial in front of us."
"Honestly, I'm alright with the idea that it might take a long time, as long as that man pays for the crimes he has committed."
"Isn't it hard to relive that trauma all over again?"
"It's horrible. That's why Mum isn't here. I don't want her to go through it again. But I want to be here. I want to be able to look at this day and say I did everything in my power to help convict my father's murderer."
"But is it really worth your sanity? You worked so hard on yourself to throw it all away."
"It's not throwing my work away. It's capitalising on it. I rely on what I've worked on in therapy, to disassociate myself from it. I blamed myself for so many years, I am finally putting the blame on the real responsible person. Plus, you are here with me. Just holding my hand today helped me stay grounded. It helped me stay in the present."
"Tomorrow, when you'll take the stand. I won't be there to hold your hand."
"No, you won't. And it won't be easy. So tomorrow, I might need you to be strong for me. I'll need you to be my rock."
"I will. Of course, I will, my love. I'll be strong for you. I'll be whatever you need tomorrow."
We park at the Hampstead family house and I decide to walk through the main entrance instead of taking the door to our private quarters. Marcel follows me without a word, and locks the door behind us. I won't try to deny it, we feel exhausted and defeated. I didn't think this trial would be so antagonising. And it's only the first day. I try to remind myself what Mace's therapist said to us.
He brought me with him to his last session. It felt nice to exteriorise some of the demons I held inside. I think it helped us as a couple because Mace understood me differently with his therapist's insight. It felt really good to be open this way with him. She helped us prepare for the trial. She helped us understand that there was nothing more we could do, but tell our truths. That stressing and thinking about it incessantly wouldn't change the opinion of the jury or the facts.
"Be authentic, be truthful, and take each day at the time." She had said calmly at the end of our session.
"Mum? Are you here?" Marcel lets out, making his way to the kitchen. I look around, but I can hear her anywhere. "Her car is here. She should be here. Mum!"
I walk up the stairs to her private quarters. Her bedroom door is closed. I turn around, but something inside of me wants to seek comfort from Marcel's old bedroom. I make my way down the corridor when I hear soft whimpers coming from her room. I come closer when sobs catch on and I understand she is crying. I knock gently on her door.
"Edith? It's me. Are you alright?" I ask very softly, my heart melting in my chest. It cracks a little. I've never witnessed anything but strength and confidence in this woman. To hear her cry shakes me to my core.
Marcel comes to me, a puzzled look on his face. "Is she in her room? I can't find her."
I nod in response, my eyes glaze with tears, a little wobble caught in my chin. "She's crying."
Marcel opens the door without waiting for an invitation. Edith is crawled up into bed, a cardigan in hand, his face buried in the fabric.
"Mum." Marcel murmurs, feeling as weak as I do. He rushes to his mother and climbs into bed, pulling her to him.
She explodes with tears, sobbing loudly, feeling her loss all over again. I can't bear seeing her like this. I can't bear to witness her distress without helping her in any way. Tears slide from my eyes as I rush to the other side of her. I wrap my arms not only around her, but around him as well. Both breaking. Both crying. Both losing themselves all over again.
I press my cheek to the top of my boyfriend's head as he holds his mother tightly in his arms. I forget myself entirely at this moment. Just as I'll be everything Marcel needs tomorrow, I make the same silent promise to Edith. I will be whatever she needs from now on as well.