see you on
Monday morning to start preparing for the hearing."
He paused and looked like he
wanted to say something important. Instead, she stomped out the
door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On Monday morning, Robyn headed
for Brian’s room, to start their final preparation for the Markham
trial, now just a week away. Her stomach knotted. She probably
wouldn’t have to say anything during the trial, unless Brian fell
under a bus. But that was a possibility and the stakes were huge.
When the trial was a long way off, she’d fantasized about making a
big impact, maybe even saving their client’s skin. Now she just
wanted to avoid making an idiot of herself. Please God, grant that
wish.
Brian sat behind his desk,
flicking through the brief. He looked up and smiled brightly. "Hi.
Now we earn our money."
His coolness calmed her nerves.
He was right in the firing line; if he could stay composed, so
could she.
They spent the next two days
carefully analyzing the prosecution’s witness statements,
identifying any inadmissible evidence - there wasn’t much - and
discussing possible lines of cross-examination.
Then Brian leaned back in his
chair and outlined his strategy. "You know, I’d love to point the
finger of blame at someone else. But we don’t have a good
candidate. So I’ll just keep hammering the prosecution’s high
burden of proof. Unless the jury totally disbelieves the
alibi evidence of Rex and Grimble, they must acquit."
"You think that’ll work?"
He shrugged. "There’s a
chance."
"A good chance?"
"Won’t say that."
On Wednesday, with Bernie
Roberts present, they re-interviewed their client, taking him back
and forward over his evidence, making it fresh in his mind and
giving him a chance to explain any inconsistencies.
Rex was understandably nervous.
Yet, Robyn also sensed some relief that he’d soon know his
fate.
The next day they re-interviewed
Hugh Grimble, who stuck firmly to his story. However, he got
annoyed when Brian, after giving him a few tips about how to
conduct himself in the witness box, casually suggested Grimble not
wear his bowtie.
"Why not?"
"I’m afraid most jurors don’t
really understand men who wear bowties."
Grimble frowned. "Well, I’m
wearing it. I feel naked without it."
Brian frowned back, and
shrugged. "Fair enough. Up to you."
Grimble left and Brian muttered,
"Tosser".
On Friday, with Bernie Roberts
again present, the barristers interviewed the four friends of Rex
Markham who were going to give character evidence. They were a
famous historical novelist, the headmaster of a GPS School, a
merchant banker and the sports reporter, Tim Nolan. All spoke
highly of Rex and said they couldn’t believe he’d murder anyone,
let alone his wife.
Robyn found the novelist, Dudley
Kline, the most interesting. Balding and pot-bellied, he’d written
numerous novels about Australia’s colonial past. The latest, about
Ned Kelly, won a swag of literary prizes.
After the barristers satisfied
themselves that Kline would be a good witness for the defence, they
chatted for a while about Ned Kelly, whom Kline had portrayed as a
psychopathic killer with no redeeming qualities - a controversial
depiction that many regarded as treason.
When Brian slipped out of the
room to answer an urgent telephone call, Robyn seized the chance to
ask Kline if he’d read Richard Olsen’s novel, Waiting for
Rain .
Kline smiled. "Of course.
Brilliant novel. Absolutely brilliant."
"Richard Olsen’s a pseudonym -
did you know that?"
"Of course. I think that’s even
mentioned on the back cover."
"But Alice Markham knew his real
identity."
"I know. In fact, I once chatted
with her about Olsen."
"Really? Did she tell you his
real name?"
Kline laughed. "Afraid not."
"Damn. So who do you think he
is?"
"If I had to guess, I’d pick
Rex."
"Why?"
"There aren’t many novelists
around with the talent to write Waiting for Rain . I think
Rex is one of the few."
"But why write under
Monday morning to start preparing for the hearing."
He paused and looked like he
wanted to say something important. Instead, she stomped out the
door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On Monday morning, Robyn headed
for Brian’s room, to start their final preparation for the Markham
trial, now just a week away. Her stomach knotted. She probably
wouldn’t have to say anything during the trial, unless Brian fell
under a bus. But that was a possibility and the stakes were huge.
When the trial was a long way off, she’d fantasized about making a
big impact, maybe even saving their client’s skin. Now she just
wanted to avoid making an idiot of herself. Please God, grant that
wish.
Brian sat behind his desk,
flicking through the brief. He looked up and smiled brightly. "Hi.
Now we earn our money."
His coolness calmed her nerves.
He was right in the firing line; if he could stay composed, so
could she.
They spent the next two days
carefully analyzing the prosecution’s witness statements,
identifying any inadmissible evidence - there wasn’t much - and
discussing possible lines of cross-examination.
Then Brian leaned back in his
chair and outlined his strategy. "You know, I’d love to point the
finger of blame at someone else. But we don’t have a good
candidate. So I’ll just keep hammering the prosecution’s high
burden of proof. Unless the jury totally disbelieves the
alibi evidence of Rex and Grimble, they must acquit."
"You think that’ll work?"
He shrugged. "There’s a
chance."
"A good chance?"
"Won’t say that."
On Wednesday, with Bernie
Roberts present, they re-interviewed their client, taking him back
and forward over his evidence, making it fresh in his mind and
giving him a chance to explain any inconsistencies.
Rex was understandably nervous.
Yet, Robyn also sensed some relief that he’d soon know his
fate.
The next day they re-interviewed
Hugh Grimble, who stuck firmly to his story. However, he got
annoyed when Brian, after giving him a few tips about how to
conduct himself in the witness box, casually suggested Grimble not
wear his bowtie.
"Why not?"
"I’m afraid most jurors don’t
really understand men who wear bowties."
Grimble frowned. "Well, I’m
wearing it. I feel naked without it."
Brian frowned back, and
shrugged. "Fair enough. Up to you."
Grimble left and Brian muttered,
"Tosser".
On Friday, with Bernie Roberts
again present, the barristers interviewed the four friends of Rex
Markham who were going to give character evidence. They were a
famous historical novelist, the headmaster of a GPS School, a
merchant banker and the sports reporter, Tim Nolan. All spoke
highly of Rex and said they couldn’t believe he’d murder anyone,
let alone his wife.
Robyn found the novelist, Dudley
Kline, the most interesting. Balding and pot-bellied, he’d written
numerous novels about Australia’s colonial past. The latest, about
Ned Kelly, won a swag of literary prizes.
After the barristers satisfied
themselves that Kline would be a good witness for the defence, they
chatted for a while about Ned Kelly, whom Kline had portrayed as a
psychopathic killer with no redeeming qualities - a controversial
depiction that many regarded as treason.
When Brian slipped out of the
room to answer an urgent telephone call, Robyn seized the chance to
ask Kline if he’d read Richard Olsen’s novel, Waiting for
Rain .
Kline smiled. "Of course.
Brilliant novel. Absolutely brilliant."
"Richard Olsen’s a pseudonym -
did you know that?"
"Of course. I think that’s even
mentioned on the back cover."
"But Alice Markham knew his real
identity."
"I know. In fact, I once chatted
with her about Olsen."
"Really? Did she tell you his
real name?"
Kline laughed. "Afraid not."
"Damn. So who do you think he
is?"
"If I had to guess, I’d pick
Rex."
"Why?"
"There aren’t many novelists
around with the talent to write Waiting for Rain . I think
Rex is one of the few."
"But why write under
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