Court Out (20 page)

“How would you describe your relationship?”

Hobbs looks to the floor and takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice trembles and his eyes are shining.

“Perfect.”

“Now on Saturday 19th July 2008 a story broke about you in a number of national newspapers,” continues Quinn.

“Yes.”

“And a young lady accused you of impregnating her?”

“Yes.”

“Firstly, it’s right that you have never been made the subject of any criminal investigation about that allegation have you?”

“No, the police never even questioned me about it.”

“Did the girl carry the baby to full term?”

“No. I understand that she had the pregnancy terminated.”

“So you never had the chance to ask for a DNA test?”

He sighs heavily.

“No, I never got the chance to clear my name.”

“From that, can we assume you deny the affaire?” says Quinn theatrically.

“Yes, completely. I have never had any sort of relationship with Amanda Windsmore. I met her at her school but that was it. She’s just a troubled girl who obviously decided to blame her pregnancy on me in a bid to deflect the anger of her father away from her behaviour. That is, if she was ever pregnant.”

“So how did you feel when the story broke?”

“Devastated. I just couldn’t believe that someone could be that malicious.”

“Where were you when you became aware of the story?”

“On my way to the football stadium for pre-match training,” Hobbs replies.

“Did you know if Marina had seen it?”

“No. My phone had run out of battery so I hadn’t received any calls.”

“Now the jury have already heard about your performance on the pitch that day. You were eventually sent off due to an incident with another player. Why don’t you tell us about that?”

“All the lads from the team had been really supportive, they’re used to tarts selling stories about us, so they were really good about it, but the opposition were trying to use it against me, make me lose my focus. Kyle kept making comments about me being a ‘nonce’ so I snapped.”

“It must have been a sensitive subject?”

“It was, I was feeling really fragile. I just couldn’t take it any more.”

“Where did you go after the game?” asks Quinn.

“I drove to Ghost, I needed to unwind.”

“We’ve seen the CCTV, so why don’t you give us your version of events?”

“Well, I admit I got very drunk. I’d had a terrible day and I guess that made me behave in the way you’ve seen. I just got more upset as the night went on. People recognised me and tried to wind me up too. I left at about three AM with Andre.”

“And where did you go?”

“Just back to his. I crashed on the sofa and woke up at about eight on the Sunday morning.”

“Had you spoken to Marina at all?”

“No. I walked home to try and clear my head and saw that the house was surrounded by police. I panicked because I thought they were after me because of the Amanda thing.”

“So what did you do?”

“I went and hid in a nearby phone box.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Well I didn’t want to be arrested, did I! I hadn’t done anything wrong,” he exclaims.

“And we know an officer found you and arrested you.”

“Yes, I was taken to the police station.”

“Mr. Hobbs, did you kill your wife?”

There’s a dramatic pause. Everyone is waiting for his answer, although it would be totally inconceivable that Hobbs would suddenly confess at this stage.

“No Sir, I did not. I loved my wife dearly and hope that the police do finally find the person responsible for her death.”

Quinn sits down with a satisfied look on his face. The Judge looks at the clock and smiles at the assembled parties.

“I think we’ll take a break there. Mr. Hobbs you are under oath so please do not speak to anyone until you complete your evidence.”

Corr remains in his seat as everyone around him stands up. He’s bent over his desk, looking at his notes for cross-examination. If I didn’t know better I’d say he must have the butterflies now. I mean, he’s about to cross-examine someone and accuse them of murder! To the outside world, he looks as cool as a cucumber and is calmly sipping from a glass of water in front of me.

“Anything you need me to do?” I ask.

He looks thoughtfully at me.

“Was there anything arising from his evidence that you thought was useful?”

I stop and think.

“Obviously the fact he’s so blatantly glossed over everything won’t go down well with the jury. Plus, he’s been caught with his trousers down more times than that flasher you represented last year.”

Corr laughs. “I’d forgotten about him. Thanks, let’s see what we can get out of him. Keep your ears pricked, if you think I’ve missed something then pass me a note.”

“Sure,” I reply, before impulsively adding “Good luck!”

“Thanks,” he says, turning back to his papers.

Serena is watching proceedings from the back of the court. Lucinda’s returned from her trip and is firmly ensconced in the public gallery. I can see Serena throwing dirty looks her way; normally this wouldn’t concern me in the slightest, but I suspect her hatred of Lucinda is now nothing to do with their mutual dislike but everything to do with Rivers.

Lucinda isn’t engaging with Serena today, totally ignoring her mocking glances and bitchy comments aimed in her direction. Come to think about it, Lucinda isn’t looking her usual groomed self. Her hair looks rumpled and her shoes don’t match her outfit at all.

She keeps shooting anxious glances towards Rivers and I notice that her makeup appears to have been applied in the dark; her eyeliner is totally wobbly and her lipstick looks slightly clown-like. If I didn’t despise the girl then I think I might be tempted to feel slightly sorry for her.

The court usher brings Hobbs back into the court. He appears totally nonchalant about the whole process and doesn’t seem to care that he is about to be interrogated by one of the country’s finest advocates.

He resumes his place in the witness box and gazes around at the courtroom. His eyes rest on me and I shift uncomfortably in my seat, looking away. I look back a few seconds later and find that he is still staring at me. What is his problem? I try not to look at him, but can’t help it. He looks at me with an expression of contempt and I flinch. He gives a nasty smile as he notices my reaction. Creep. I sincerely hope Corr manages to wipe that expression off his face.

When Mr. Justice Wynne returns, the change in atmosphere is noticeable. Everyone is waiting to see what Corr is going to do. As he stands up to start his questioning I feel a funny sensation in my tummy. It’s like a mixture of fear and hope.

“You met Marina Fellows in a strip club didn’t you?” asks Corr, his voice quiet and measured.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” snaps Hobbs instantly.

“You paid her to dance for you,” he continues, standing tall and looking directly at him.

“So? It’s hardly a crime!” explodes Hobbs. He’s gone from calm to furious in a matter of seconds which I’d bet is exactly what Corr wants.

“So your initial relationship was, a business one, wasn’t it. A mere transaction?”

“No. She fell for me straight away,” he retorts.

“You had to pay her to enjoy your company though?”

“She married me!” howls Hobbs, banging his hands on the front of the jury box.

“Yes, and because of how you met, you always felt as though you owned her didn’t you?”

“What! That’s preposterous!” he splutters, visibly spitting in his reply.

“You though of her as one of your possessions. And far from having a ‘perfect’ relationship it’s well documented that you were unfaithful to her on a number of occasions.”

“That’s a load of rubbish!”

Corr opens a folder in front of him.

 “Members of the jury perhaps you could turn to page 76 of the second bundle.” He waits for them to all find the relevant page. “Now Mr. Hobbs, you can see here many newspaper stories relating to different occasions where no less than fourteen girls sold stories of their illicit liaisons with you. Most of them are supported by independent, incontrovertible evidence.”

“They’re all money grabbing liars,” he snarls, barely looking at the pages.

“All liars?” asks Corr calmly. “Please turn to page 79.”

I follow his instructions and am confronted with a full-page colour photograph of Hobbs locked in a passionate tangle with a brunette. One of his hands is up her skirt. There’s a pause.

“Yeah ok, that was a one off,” he mumbles.

“Turn to page 82.”

This time it’s a picture of him with his head buried deep within the cleavage of a tarty looking blonde. Another topless blonde woman in black PVC shorts is kissing the back of his neck.

“Now please page 85,” says Corr in an almost singsong voice. This picture shows Hobbs zipping up his flies as he emerges from a toilet cubicle in a nightclub followed by a disheveled lady in a similar state of undress.

“I think we can safely conclude that you took your marriage vows as guidance and not absolute,” comments Corr. “If you want Mr. Hobbs, I can show the jury some more pictures?”

“No,” he mutters petulantly.

“Right, moving on then. Amanda Windsmore sold her story and it was splashed across every tabloid in the country the morning of the 19th of July. You were made aware of the scandal when you were on your way to training. That would have been at about midday wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. I’ve already told you that once,” he snaps.

“And you claim your battery had gone on your phone so you couldn’t call Marina?”

“That’s what happened,” he says in a bored voice, looking over at Quinn.

“Your Overfinch has an inbuilt charger though doesn’t it?”

“I was in such a state. It didn’t occur to me.”

“You didn’t use the club phone or ask to borrow a mobile to call her though, did you?”

“I couldn’t remember the number,” he protests.

“What? You didn’t know your own home phone number?” enquires Corr incredulously.

“No, of course I knew that. I didn’t know Marina’s mobile number.”

“But you didn’t try and call the house?” he presses.

“No. I didn’t think she would answer” Hobbs retorts.

“You presumably knew that this story would devastate her?”

“She would have known it was all lies.”

“She’d have been upset to have her husband accused of sleeping with a child though, surely?”

“Yes,” he concedes after a pause.

“And as a loving, doting husband, you'd have wanted to comfort her, reassure her that everything was okay?” he pushes.

“Of course!”

“But you didn’t do that. You went out drinking when you could have easily driven home to see her,” says Corr, turning to the jury to make his point.

“I needed to relax, to unwind.”

“You didn’t care about her at all. She’d stood by you through all of your previous infidelities so why would this time have been any different?”

“It wasn’t like that!” protests Hobbs.

“So when you came home and found her with her cases packed you went mad, didn’t you?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“You were so incensed that she was going to leave you, you attacked her.” says Corr, his voice rising slightly.

“No I didn’t!” shouts Hobbs, his tone a complete contrast to Corr.

“You used your trophy to beat her didn’t you? You hit her on the head with it a number of times.”

“That’s not true. Marina was killed by intruders.”

“No, Mr. Hobbs, she was killed by you. After you had beaten her senseless with the trophy you drowned her in your pool.”

“I’d never hurt her!”

“But you’ve got a violent temper, haven’t you?” says Corr coldly.

“Not at all!”

“Well Mr. Hobbs, only that afternoon you broke another man’s nose!”

“He called me a nonce!”

“So you think he deserved it?”

Hobbs falls silent before exclaiming happily.

“I couldn't have drowned her in the pool. You heard the police officer. My trousers were bone dry when they nicked me!”

Corr pauses and the court waits for his next move. Wait a minute, just wait a minute. I quickly scrawl a note on the reverse of one of the witness statements and yank the back of his gown. He turns around, takes it from me and reads it before placing it on top of his papers. There is a moment of pure silence.

“You’ve had that pool since you remodeled the house?”

“Yes,” Hobbs agrees uncertainly.

“And you use it regularly all year round?”

“It’s heated, so I normally swim in it every day. I have to stay fit,” he replies, patting his toned stomach with his hand.

“Presumably you pay someone to change the chemicals?” Corr enquires.

“Yes, they visit once a month”

“So when you have leaves in the pool I presume you remove them with the implement that we saw you use yesterday?”

“Er, yes”

“And that’s an item you’ve had for a while?”

Hobbs nods.

Corr goes in for the kill. “Did you use that pole to hold your wife underneath the water until she died?”

“My Lord!” interrupts Quinn, getting to his feet. “Mr. Corr has no evidence of that so the Defendant should not have to answer that question.”

For a split second, Mr. Justice Wynne looks troubled.

“Mr. Quinn, the members of the jury did all in fact see the Defendant cleaning his pool with such an item yesterday. In light of the evidence he has given, the jury may draw an inference about the death from this. He should answer the question.”

Hobbs looks discomforted before he replies.

“I didn’t kill her. I had nothing to do with it. I was with Andre.”

“So what about this?” asks Corr, handing around the enlarged, enhanced photograph of the broken champagne bottle. “It would appear that a bottle of the very rare champagne that you were drinking that night at Ghost also turned up at your house.”

“There was some of that in my cellar”

I’m ready for this one. I pass my second note forwards. Corr nods and makes a noise of assent.

“Again Mr. Hobbs, we saw your cellar yesterday. It was full of cheap, mass produced bottles.”