Court Out - By Elle Wynne Page 0,69

the Judge has retired, Corr turns to me with a huge smile on his face.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect that,” he says in an amazed tone.

“Talk about third time lucky!” I reply.

I hear an audible tutting noise from behind me and turn in surprise to see Serena looking at me.

“Is there anything you need me to do?” I ask Corr.

“No. I think you’ve done enough already,” he remarks, noting something down on his papers with his fountain pen.

I try not to smile. “Well, if you think of anything you know where I am!”

His speech is sublime. He takes the jury through all of the key points of the evidence and totally goes to town on Hobbs and Plushenko.

“Members of the jury, I don’t want to insult your intelligence by going over Mr. Plushenko’s evidence with you; I know you will have seen straight through the facade of his words. There is only one way he could have known about what I was going to ask him; he must he been told about the new evidence in the case. Why? Well that’s easy. The Defendant knew he was in big trouble and needed his faithful friend to slightly amend his story to save him. He is just as much of a liar as Mr. Hobbs. I do not think for a second either of them will have come close to fooling you and I know you will recognise the reality of this case. You have before you an angry and abusive man, a man who freely cheated on his wife because he knew he could get away with it. A man who never expected his wife would attempt to leave him. A man who was drunk and armed with his player of the year trophy. You’ve heard a lot of speculation about intruders and I have no doubt that Mr. Quinn will address you in the morning and spin you some impressive tale about burglars. But ask yourself this, why would burglars commit murder to protect their identities and take nothing? You’ve all seen the property for yourself, you know the items of value contained inside. It makes no sense. The tragic truth is clear. Mrs Hobbs was leaving the Defendant and when challenged, was killed by her feckless husband.”

I faithfully type each word that Corr utters, marveling at his eloquent use of prose. He has the jury in the palm of his hand and I’m totally convinced that they’re all sure of his guilt. They have to be. There is no way there can be any doubt after what they have heard. When he sits down, just over an hour and a half later, I’m positive it’s in the bag.

Hobbs looks pretty shaken when he leaves the courtroom. He must know that his number is up. As soon as he gets outside the door and onto the concourse I can hear raised voices and the sound of a man shouting. It’s a pretty safe bet that it’s Hobbs having a go at his solicitors. Quinn walks out without making an attempt to speak to Corr; there are no jokes or attempts to engage him in any playful banter.

“Let’s go and have a debrief,” says Corr “Meet me back at your Chambers in ten minutes. It won’t take long”

“Sure. I’ll see you there” I reply, rearranging my papers and leaving them neatly on the bench.

Rivers stops next to me on his way out. “So, the champagne evidence was your idea?” he asks, leaning across me and picking up a stray biro. His arm brushes against me as he straightens up. I nod modestly.

“I guess the prosecution must be desperate to get this home then,” he continues “Last chance for them and all.”

“Well by the same standard, you and Quinn must be desperate to get him off!” I laugh.

He joins in. “Yeah, I suppose so. We’ll have to wait until next week though to find out though.”

“True, the Judge probably won’t send the jury out to deliberate now until Monday morning. Oh well, at least it keeps us out of trouble for a little bit longer! Right, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” I grab my bag and hurry out.

It doesn’t take me long to walk back to Chambers and I sit and wait for Corr in one of the conference rooms on the first floor feeling like I’m waiting at the dentists, staring at the legal themed print hung on the yellow wall. He arrives after I’ve been

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