32 Cyrus

32

Evie is drinking an iced coffee beneath a café awning, not making eye contact with people, but watching from behind her sunglasses. Across the road, the Great Grimsby Combined Court Centre is set back from the street, sentried by large plane trees.

Defendants and lawyers are milling outside, staying cool in the shade. Most are here for summary offences – drink driving cases, disputed speeding fines and charges for criminal damage, malicious wounding and drug possession. A few have family members supporting them, who are dressed like they're attending a church service or a funeral.

Evie insisted on coming. She wants to see the men who have been charged with the small boat murders, particularly the one she recognised, hoping it might trigger a memory or tether him to a particular time or place or event in her life.

There has been no word on Arben, but a dark-coloured Land Cruiser was found burned out in a lay-by fifteen miles from where he was abducted. The car had been stolen two days earlier from a house in Manchester by someone who had cloned the fob using a scanning device.

We navigate the security screening and take two seats in the tiered public gallery, which overlooks the body of the court, directly behind the bar table and to the right of the press benches. Some of the reporters I recognise from TV or from earlier media briefings. I make Evie sit next to the aisle so we can slip away quickly if she feels anxious, or her mind begins slipping.

Angus Radford and Kenna Downing arrive through a different door. They are handcuffed, wearing prison-issue clothes, being escorted by guards. Radford has a swagger about him, like he's walking onto a stage, but Downing seems more nervous and keeps checking to see if he's putting his feet in the right place.

The court usher announces the arrival of Judge Prior, a small, birdlike woman, with gentle eyes and bound black hair. She has a soft spot for her court staff, calling the clerk by his first name. She asks Radford and Downing to take a seat while she deals with several other matters for mention. The prosecutor, Mr Holder, makes an application for a hearing date extension and seeks to change reporting conditions for a defendant.

Finally, Judge Prior asks Radford and Downing to stand. ‘Do you have legal representation?'

Before they can answer, a door swings opens and a man enters, striding into the courtroom like he's making a last-minute intervention.

‘Your Honour, may it please the court, my name is Philip Welbeck, KC. I represent Mr Radford and Mr Downing.'

A young woman trails after him, carrying a briefcase under one arm, and a stack of box files that she can barely see over. Welbeck has reached the bar table, where he nudges a chair back with his foot, as though worried it might be germ-ridden. Without pausing to wait for his colleague, he begins, ‘I wish to register my complaint against my clients' treatment in police custody and the denial of their rights.'

‘What rights have been denied?' asks the crown prosecutor.

‘They were denied legal representation upon their arrest.'

‘A solicitor was present at every interview.'

‘They were in custody for four hours before I was notified.'

‘Because your clients refused to give their names or addresses.'

‘They gave the police my phone number.'

‘Yet couldn't remember their own names.'

The sarcasm irritates Welbeck, who begins to argue, but is cut off by the judge.

‘Keep it in your pants, gentlemen.' The comment prompts laughter. Judge Prior moves on quickly. ‘What are we dealing with, Mr Holder?'

The prosecutor takes a sheet of paper from the table.

‘Angus Fraser Radford and Kenna Andrew Downing are charged with seventeen counts of gross negligence manslaughter, as well as resisting arrest, assault and destroying evidence.'

‘Allegations that will be strenuously denied,' says Welbeck.

‘You'll get your chance,' says the judge, shutting him down.

Holder continues. ‘The prosecution will allege that in the early hours of August twenty-sixth the trawler New Victory deliberately rammed and sank a rigid-hulled inflatable boat with twenty people on board, sixteen miles north-east of Skegness in the North Sea. New Victory was sailing without lights or radar reflectors; and the automatic identification beacon had been disabled.'

‘Objection. Speculation,' says the barrister.

‘This is not the trial, Mr Welbeck,' says Judge Prior, signalling for the prosecutor to go on.

Holder gives Welbeck a smug smile. ‘Eyewitness testimony and satellite imagery will show the trawler earlier stopped the RHIB and tried to force it into turning back to France, using water cannons and ropes. When those on board refused the demands, the trawler rammed the RHIB, which overturned, throwing the occupants into the sea.'

‘Ridiculous,' mutters Welbeck.

Holder ignores him. ‘According to forensic evidence, the trawler collided with the RHIB at least three times and the crew made no attempt to rescue the people in the water. Given the serious nature of the alleged offences, and the likelihood of further charges being laid, the Crown asks that bail be refused and the defendants be remanded in custody.'

‘Your turn, Mr Welbeck,' says Judge Prior.

The barrister gets to his feet and buttons his charcoal-grey suit, tugging down the sleeves and smoothing the creases on his thighs. Throat cleared, eyebrows knitted, he begins. ‘My clients are fishermen. Mr Radford was born to the sea, a fourth-generation trawlerman; and Mr Downing has worked on boats since he was eighteen. They have no knowledge of any collision and, if one did occur, they insist it was accidental.

‘Let me offer you a different, more credible, version of events. My clients were transferring the trawler to Scotland after an engine refit, which is why it had only two crew. The AIS had not been reactivated – an oversight not a deliberate act. On the morning in question, Mr Downing was on watch. He left the wheelhouse for several minutes to check on an oil pressure light and to make himself a cup of tea. Mr Radford was sleeping. The navigation lights were on. The trawler was on autopilot and nothing showed on the ship's radar.

‘It was during this time that New Victory struck something in the water which damaged the propeller shaft. Both men came on deck and searched for what the trawler might have hit. They saw no evidence of a RHIB or people in the water. They assumed it was most likely a sunken shipping container or some other flotsam or jetsam.'

Mr Holder hasn't bothered sitting down. ‘We have radar images that capture the moment of collision. They also show the trawler circling back to finish the job.'

‘More speculation,' says Welbeck. ‘The New Victory is not a pirate ship. It is a fishing trawler. My clients are devastated by the loss of any life at sea. If there is evidence of a collision, it was accidental.'

‘Not according to the eyewitness,' says Holder. ‘And we have text messages from someone else on board the sinking boat.'

‘Is this witness available?' asks Welbeck. ‘Can he or she be cross-examined in a future trial?' asks Welbeck next. He doesn't wait for an answer. ‘These text messages came from a phone that hasn't been located and may or may not have been on the vessel that sank.'

‘Two life-vests were found on board the trawler,' says the prosecutor.

‘Picked up floating in the sea,' replies Welbeck.

‘And the plastic ties found in the cabin?'

‘Used for securing equipment during rough weather.'

Judge Prior intervenes. ‘Gentlemen, we're not deciding this case today. This is a bail hearing.'

Welbeck continues, ‘Your Honour, my clients are both family men. They have mortgages to pay. Loans to service. Mouths to feed. Keeping them in custody on the available evidence is unfair and unjustifiable. I ask that you free them on minimal bail, with reporting restrictions, and whatever else you deem appropriate. Let them get back to their families.'

Judge Prior takes a moment and begins to jot down notes. The whispering begins around us, rising in volume.

‘What's happening?' asks Evie.

‘She's deciding whether to release them on bail.'

‘But they killed those people.'

‘They're innocent until proven guilty.'

Evie lets out an odd sharp cough of a laugh. Angus Radford glances towards the public gallery and his eyes settle on her. I look for some flash of recognition or sign of curiosity, but his face is blank.

Judge Prior clears her throat. The courtroom falls silent.

‘Gross negligence manslaughter carries a maximum penalty of life imprisonment. Given the seriousness of the charges, I am going to deny bail and remand both defendants in custody.'

‘We will appeal,' says Welbeck.

‘That is your right,' says the judge. ‘I will list the matter for mention on October the eleventh when a date will be set for trial. The court is in recess.'

Everybody stands except for Radford and Downing, who are deep in conversation. Arguing. Radford shoves Downing in the chest with his cuffed hands and the guards have to step forward to separate the men.

‘Not a fucking word,' says Radford, as he is being led away.

The courtroom empties and reporters hurry to file stories and film reports from the steps of the court. I look for DI Carlson in the foyer but can't see him. Evie holds on to my sleeve. She doesn't like crowded places because everybody is taller than she is and they ‘steal her air'.

‘Can we go?' she pleads.

I want to ask her about Radford and if she remembers where she's seen him before, but now isn't the time.