Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) - By Caitlyn Robertson Page 0,44
after a while they filed back into the courtroom. Sarah stood there, pale as milk, and the two lawyers stood behind their desks.
“I understand you are eleven to one,” the judge said.
“Yes, your honour,” Tom answered.
The judge studied his hands for a moment, then replied, “I would really like a majority vote on this case. I’d like you to return to the courtroom please for further discussion. We’ll have lunch delivered to you, so you can take as much time as you need.”
Honey’s shoulders sagged. Beside her, Peter1 whispered, “Fuck,” and several others gave muttered protests.
The jury stood and shuffled out of the court and back to their room.
Honey stood by the window looking out into the small garden where the smokers occasionally relieved their craving. It was now the job of the other eleven jurors to bully her into submission. How could that be right? Eleven people had found the woman guilty, including one who had pretty much been browbeaten into it. This was so cruel.
The door opened and the court assistant brought in plates of sandwiches and cake. The others immediately started tucking into them, but Honey couldn’t bring herself to take a bite. She remained at the window, trying to comfort herself with thoughts of the wedding, but she could only dredge up a vague feeling of apprehension that didn’t make her feel even a tiny bit better.
“Well, what do you want to do?” The question came from Lenny, the last of the five men. Tall, skinny and impatient looking, he frowned and tapped on the table. “Do you want to go over it all again?”
“I don’t know.” And she didn’t know.
“Can’t we just say we have a hung jury and have done with it?” asked the young woman who’d spent most of her time at court eyeing up Matt.
“The judge has just told us to talk about it,” Tom said. “I don’t think he will accept that verdict right now.”
Peter2 threw up his hands. “What’s the point in talking about it? Clearly she’s not going to listen.”
“I am listening,” Honey protested. “I don’t want to vote against my conscience, that’s all. How I can I live with myself if I do that?”
Nobody seemed to have an answer to that.
“Come and sit down, love.” The words came from Huia, a Maori woman who reminded Honey a little of her mother. Reluctantly, Honey returned to the table and sat. “The thing is, as I understand it,” Huia continued, “is that if we return a hung jury, they have to choose a new one and then poor Sarah Green has to sit through this all over again.”
“That’s true,” Babs said.
“And that’s not really fair on Sarah either,” Huia said.
Honey said nothing, her stomach in a knot.
“Maybe what you could think to yourself is that by voting with the majority, it doesn’t actually mean you’re agreeing with us. It means you’re accepting you’re in the minority and that we aren’t going to change our minds. By voting guilty, you are saying you agree to abide by the majority vote.”
It sounded logical, but Honey knew Sarah Green wouldn’t think of it in that way. All she would know was that twelve people had found her guilty—she wouldn’t understand the wrangling that had gone on behind the screens, nor the justification Honey would be making to herself to assuage her conscience.
“I’m just not a hundred percent sure beyond all reasonable doubt that she meant to harm him,” Honey said. “Are you all? A hundred percent?”
Matt frowned. “Unless there’s a photograph of a perpetrator standing over a body, knife in hand screaming ‘I did it, your honour,’ I don’t know how we can ever convict anyone based on that premise. Of course we can’t be sure a hundred percent. But all the facts point to her knowing that James was going to come through that door, like her leaving off the chain. It doesn’t make sense. She wanted him to come into the house so she could attack him and then scream self-defence.”
“I have to say I agree with Matt,” Tom said, somewhat reluctantly. “But to be honest, I don’t think you disagree with the facts. I think the problem lies more in that you can’t find it in your heart to say Sarah is guilty when you feel you understand what she has been going through.”
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Honey stared at the table. He was right, of course.