Guilty One (39 page)

‘He has what one might call a morbid curiosity.’

‘In what way? What things, exactly, is he morbidly curious about?’

‘He
seemed very interested in blood, death and injury … On this, again, I cannot be sure, I would have to study his behaviour further, but I would cite a discussion that we had about his mother’s miscarriage.’

‘Why did this alarm you?’

Irene was on her feet. ‘My lord, I really must protest: my learned colleague is putting words into the witness’s mouth. He has not stated that he was
alarmed
in any way.’

Jones nodded at Irene and then rephrased his question: ‘Tell us what the conversation relating to his mother’s miscarriage revealed, Dr Baird.’

‘Well, I considered his knowledge to be more detailed than one would have expected and also somewhat inappropriate, particularly for a child of his age … but again, this is in no way definitive.’

Daniel watched Irene furiously scribbling notes on her pad. He knew she would return to this subject on cross-examination.

‘I see,
not definitive.
Tell us about Sebastian’s ability to handle social communication.’

‘Yes, he does seem to have problems with social communication and social interaction … ’

‘Yet you failed to diagnose Asperger’s, preferring … ’ Again Jones twisted his face to read from his notes. ‘ … PDD-NOS. In my layman’s view he is sounding like a model example of a child with Asperger’s syndrome. Why is that not so?’

‘Well … Sebastian did show ability for social
imagination …
not only an ability but indeed an aptitude for it. This became very apparent in the role play that we did. It was this lack of … one of the key symptoms of Asperger’s that led me to disagree with the earlier
diagnosis. But on reflection I did consider that he may demonstrate PDD-NOS.’

‘And what exactly is social imagination?’

‘Essentially, it is being able to imagine a range of possible outcomes to a situation – particularly a social situation. Many people with Asperger’s can be creative, but a typical symptom of the condition is the inability to imagine different outcomes to situations presented, or to … predict what will happen next. Often they will have trouble working out what other people know.’

‘I see.’ Jones was standing tall now, flourishing his robes and looking straight at the jury. ‘Tell me, Dr Baird, is social imagination important for someone to be a good liar?’

Daniel held his breath. Jones had raised his voice as he said the last word. Daniel looked up. The courtroom shuffles and murmurs had stopped. Baird swallowed. Daniel watched as his eyes flicked towards Irene.

‘Dr Baird?’ Jones prompted.

‘Well, certainly, if a lie is complex and involves visualisation of certain outcomes, then social imagination will be very important … but it should be noted that people with Asperger’s often find it impossible to lie.’

‘But, Dr Baird,’ said Jones, a predatory smile on his lips, ‘you just told us that Sebastian did not have Asperger’s, for the very reason that he showed an ability … indeed
an aptitude …
for social imagination, something that may have allowed him to lie convincingly about the murder of young Ben Stokes. Is that not the case?’

‘I … think that PDD-NOS is a more appropriate diagnosis, yes … I cannot speak about … ’

‘Dr Baird.
Would you say that children with Asperger’s and indeed those diagnosed with the lesser condition of PDD-NOS often tend towards violence?’

‘Well, I … ’

Irene stood up. Daniel clasped his hands.

‘My lord, again I question the relevance … The witness is giving his expert opinion of
my client
’s psychological state. We have no time for generalisations … ’

‘That may be, Miss Clarke, but the witness may answer … As an expert he is entitled to show how your client’s psychological state pertains to … more general conditions.’

‘Well … ’ Baird stumbled, ‘children who display symptoms of PDD-NOS and Asperger’s may become frustrated more easily and as a result are more prone to temper tantrums, meltdowns, intense anger and violent behaviours.’

‘I see …
intense anger and violent behaviours,’
Jones repeated, turning in the jury’s direction. ‘Would children displaying such symptoms also lack … empathy?’

‘Again, the disorder has a wide spectrum, but … and this is true of aggressive children in general … they quite often do not feel, or indeed understand, the suffering of others.’

‘Thank you, Dr Baird,’ said Jones.

Jones seemed pleased with himself.

‘If I may, my lord,’ said Irene, standing up again.

Judge Baron fluttered his fingers in consent.

‘Dr Baird … focusing now on
Sebastian,
and moving away from previous generalisations, is it your expert opinion that he was aggressive or indeed duplicitous when you met with him – twice?’

‘That was not my experience of him, and we should not assume that he would be capable of these things.’

‘I
see. You have testified that you consider that Sebastian may have a disorder on the Asperger’s spectrum, PDD-NOS. Is this common?’

‘Very much so.’

‘Is it therefore likely that a large number of otherwise healthy and sane adults in society would show these mild Asperger’s spectrum traits?’

‘Yes of course, although there would be no way to tell how common, as even now it largely goes undiagnosed.’

‘So people in this courtroom, other than the defendant, may also have PDD-NOS?’

‘It is entirely possible.’

‘People in the jury could have PDD-NOS, or even the barristers, solicitors and judge in court today?’

Her words were shocking and Daniel glanced at Baron. The old man was scowling, but said nothing.

‘Again, it is … possible.’

‘And is this not worrying? Is PDD-NOS indicative of criminality or violence?’

‘Not at all, it is just that the limitations of the disorder can increase frustration and occasionally result in outbursts in certain individuals.’

‘Thank you for that clarification.’ Daniel watched as Irene consulted the notes she had made during Jones’s questioning. ‘Now in relation to the defendant’s supposed
morbid fascination,
you have cited his description of his mother’s miscarriage as an example. Page sixty-three, paragraph four, in your bundle notes the transcript of the conversation to which you refer. What exactly did Sebastian say that you considered morbid or
inappropriate to his age?’

‘The
biological details he noted were startling – the exact age of the foetus, his awareness of trauma to the womb and the consequences for his mother’s fertility. He vividly described the haemorrhaging … ’

‘I fail to understand why this is attributable to a disorder, Dr Baird. My client was expecting a little brother. The pregnancy was third trimester, and he had, as you would expect, felt his sibling move through his mother’s stomach – in fact he spoke of this event. I am sure you are aware of the questions this experience will prompt in a child, about the specifics of biology. You are aware that the baby was lost as a result of a household accident … ’ Irene paused. Daniel wondered at her choice of phrase. ‘Do you not consider it wholly understandable that a child who witnessed the fall and such a late-term miscarriage in his own home may have become … morbidly preoccupied, as you put it? Would this not represent a significant trauma for the boy and his family?’

‘Indeed that is a reasonable explanation. Previously I answered questions on general aspects of the condition – not specific to Sebastian’s case.’

‘Thank you,’ said Irene, triumphant. ‘Now once again, according to your assessment of the defendant, do you think that Sebastian is capable of the alleged offence?’

Baird paused, almost tasting the words before he spoke. ‘No, I do not consider him capable of murder.’

‘Thank you, Dr Baird.’

The court adjourned for lunch and Sebastian was taken downstairs. Daniel walked alone through the Old Bailey halls, running a hand through his hair. He felt angry with himself. He had been wary
of Baird’s evidence and now castigated himself for not thinking it through more fully. Their first witness had been turned, but he was glad that Irene had been able to bring him back. He’d tried to catch her leaving court – he wanted to congratulate her for her recovery – but she had to speak to her pupil about another case.

Daniel wasn’t hungry. He slotted coins into the drinks machine, choosing a coffee instead of lunch. While he was waiting, he felt fingernails dig into his upper arms and turned to find Charlotte almost in tears. She was Sebastian’s alibi from 3 p.m. on the day of the murder, and was due to testify after lunch.

‘Daniel, I don’t know if I can do this,’ she said. ‘It’s
that man
I’m afraid of – I watch him
ripping
people apart. I’m scared I’ll trip up … ’ Daniel knew that she meant Jones.

‘You’ll be fine,’ said Daniel. He heard his tone as deep, almost severe, but he didn’t want her to fall apart and instinct told him not to indulge her. ‘Keep your answers short like we discussed with Irene. Talk about what you know and nothing else. You’re not on trial, remember.’

‘But my son is. I see the way they’re all looking at me, like I’m the mother of some kind of … devil.’

‘Don’t even think that. He’s innocent and we’re going to prove he is, but you’re an important part of that.
We need you
to win this. You’re his mother and he needs you to stand up for him.’

Twice he had said these words to Charlotte. He wanted to shake her. He knew what it was like to have a mother who was as dependent as a child, who had been unable to protect him.

Charlotte looked upwards at the high vault of the Central Criminal Court. She searched its expanse as if for answers. When she looked down again, a black tear spilled, which she wiped away quickly
with an already blackened tissue. He remembered the touch of her nails on his abdomen. Looking at her, he felt again a wave of disgust and pity so strong that he had to look away.

‘You can do this, Charlotte,’ he said. ‘Sebastian’s counting on you.’

When Charlotte was called, she was composed, but Daniel still held his breath as he watched her make her way to the witness box. The outlines of her elbows were visible through the sleeves of her jacket. Sebastian leaned forward, hands stretched out in front of him on the table, as if trying to reach out to her. Charlotte cleared her throat and took a sip of water. From a distance she seemed fragile but strikingly beautiful, her features even and her eyes huge.

Irene was warm and conversational when she began her examination in chief. She had one elbow on her lectern and addressed Charlotte in a familiar, gentle way although the two women had only spoken briefly.

‘Just a few short questions … Can you tell us what you remember about the day of 8 August this year?’

‘Yes,’ said Charlotte, at first quietly, but soon gaining confidence. ‘I wasn’t feeling very well that day. My husband was overseas and after I made Sebastian’s lunch I decided to have a lie-down.’

‘What did Sebastian do on that day?’

‘Well, he went out to play while I was lying down.’

‘Did you know where he went to play?’

‘Well, normally he just plays in the road, sometimes with the neighbours’ children, but even if he goes to the park I can often still see him from the top-bedroom window, it’s so close.’

‘Did
you watch him as he played on that day?’

‘No, I just had a lie-down. I had a headache.’

‘When did Sebastian return home?’

‘It was just before 3 p.m.’

‘You’re quite sure?

‘Quite sure.’

‘And when he returned home, did he appear different, for example very dirty – were his clothes visibly marked?’

‘No more than usual.’ Charlotte allowed a small smile. ‘He’s a little boy. He often comes home in a bit of a mess, but no, there was nothing unusual.’

‘What about his behaviour, did he seem troubled or upset?’

‘No, not at all. We had a snack together and watched some television.’

‘Thank you.’ Irene nodded and sat down.

Daniel exhaled and leaned in towards Sebastian. ‘You OK?’ he whispered to the boy.

‘Don’t let him be mean to her,’ Sebastian whispered back, not turning to Daniel as he spoke.

‘Don’t worry,’ Daniel assured him, although he too was concerned about Jones’s cross-examination. He knew Charlotte could not take a lot of pressure.

Jones managed a toothless smile before he began. Charlotte was rubbing her neck, her eyes flicking anxiously in the direction of the public gallery.

‘Mrs Croll, does your doctor prescribe any medication that you take on a regular basis?’

Charlotte cleared her throat and then said, ‘Yes … I have trouble sleeping and I have problems with… anxiety, so I take … em … diazepam,
beta-blockers, fairly frequently, and on nights when I can’t sleep … temazepam.’

‘I see, quite a cocktail. And on 8 August, did you take any … diazepam, for example?’

‘I don’t remember exactly, but most likely I would have. Most days I need to take one, to calm me down.’

‘I see, so you admit taking sedatives on 8 August while your son went out to play, but you are now testifying under oath that you are certain he returned at 3 p.m. sharp?’

‘Yes, I lay down, but I didn’t actually sleep that day. I was not feeling well and just needed to calm down. I heard Sebastian come in at three o’clock and then I made us something to eat. I didn’t sleep. I know I didn’t sleep. I was too … tense. I know what time he came home.’

‘Do you love your son, Mrs Croll?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Sebastian reached over the table again when his mother spoke. Daniel noticed that he was smiling at his mother across the courtroom.

‘And you would do anything to protect him?’

‘Anything I could.’ Charlotte was looking straight at Sebastian.

‘When the police came to the house on Monday, you were reportedly home but fast asleep. So …
out of it,
that you didn’t even realise that your son had been taken to the police station, is that correct?’