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Just Another Day - Clark Steven - Страница 6


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“As I reached the back of the van, I was about to open the small security door to slide in the cash box. I didn’t see or hear anything; I was slightly bent over to enable me to open the door. Everything just happened so fast. Suddenly, I felt a heavy blow to my back in between my shoulder blades. I fell to my knees and then forward onto my face. I put my hands out to try and break my fall and I was momentarily stunned and lying in the road way face down. I let go of the box in an instinctive manner as my hands came down in front of me but the box didn’t travel very far, only about two feet away as it was still chained to my left wrist.’

‘I know how difficult this is for you Mr D, but please go on, would you like a glass of water?’

‘No sir, sorry. I’m ok. I turned over onto my back and was about to try and get up when I saw him towering above me. He had a black leather bomber type jacket on, dark coloured jeans; I remember they had a rip in the left knee, and he was wearing a black woolly balaclava over his head. He stood on my left hand, which was chained to the box, to prevent me from moving it and he knelt down beside me.’

‘Excuse me, Mr D, but I must just stop you there. It is my understanding of the situation that you clearly identified the defendant at the police station a few weeks after the incident, is that correct?’

‘Yes sir, that’s correct.’

‘Well forgive me for being pedantic here,’ as Jameson turned to face the jury once again, ‘but, if the defendant was wearing a face mask, how on earth could you have identified him?’

‘But that’s just it sir, when he knelt down beside me he leaned near to my face and took off the face mask and began to laugh. He wanted me to see his face that’s for sure. I think he wanted to make sure that I could see the wildness in his eyes. He said to me, “I hope you’ve got the key for your fucking bracelet mate.” I was stammering and stuttering and shouting all at the same time, it’s in me pocket, me right hand pocket. I reached into my pocket and brought out the key which was also on a small thin chain and handed it to him.’

‘I’m sorry to put you through this Mr D, but, could you just tell the jury what happened next.’

‘He took the key and chain, dangled it in front of me and dropped it on the floor and stamped on it with the heel of his foot, trying to grind it into the ground. His saliva peppered my face as he spat out the words to me, “Couldn’t be bothered fuckin about with keys,” and I saw his right arm rise above his shoulder and come crashing down to the ground. I screamed in pain as he stood up and I could see that he was holding the money case above my head and attached to the case was my left hand and wrist. He was laughing as he stood and began swinging the bracelet, with my hand still attached.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, me looking down at my arm spurting blood, and him swinging my hand around above his head like a skipping rope. Suddenly, my hand flew out of the bracelet, slammed against the van, and fell to the floor with my blood splattering everywhere as it fell. He looked down at me once more and said in the most chilling voice and manner, “Now me old matey, that was handy wasn’t it.” I will never forget those words or the way that he said them. I wake up sweating at night; he was speaking in the way that you hear old pirates speak in the movies. He enjoyed what he did to me. He is a monster who enjoys inflicting pain on others. He’s like a rabid dog. He should be put down.”

‘So, just to be absolutely clear on this matter Mr. D, Had he so wished, the defendant could have retrieved the cash box without any injury to you. You were not resisting him in any way, in fact, you had freely offered him the cash box key which would have enabled him to simply unlock your bracelet and make off with the cash without further ado. Is that correct?’

‘Absolutely right Mr. Jameson. We are under instructions not to offer resistance to any form of violence, not just for our own safety, but also that of any other staff or members of the public who could get injured if we resisted, we are told quite clearly that under no circumstances are we to try any heroics.’

‘Quite so, quite so Mr D, thank you for your attendance here today in what is obviously a very distressing situation for you. May the witness be excused M’lud? I’m sure he would appreciate a rest and an opportunity for him to have a drink. That is, if the defence have no questions to ask Mr D?’

The prosecution barrister continued his drama by waving his hand towards his learned colleague, but did not look at him as he knew his gesture would have even more dramatic effect.

Johnson’s defence barrister was also very experienced in court room procedures and he was well aware that both the Judge and the jury were looking in his direction. He could read both their minds; he knew it would be seen as extremely callous of him if he began to ask questions of the injured security guard.

Although he was duty bound to defend Johnson, he was well aware of the monster he was representing. He knew full well what a violent bastard he was. As his defending barrister, he had access to his previous convictions and he knew that his client had been in and out of institutions of various kinds for many years.

It came as no surprise to him to hear the evidence of the sadistic nature of the man in the dock when he knew that he had been detained in a young offenders institute at the age of 12 for decapitating a neighbour’s cat and pushing the severed head through the letterbox of the neighbour’s front door. The next door resident, in the eyes of Johnson, had committed a ‘crime’ in that she had not thrown his football back over the wall into Johnson’s yard. Hardly surprising given the tirade of foul abuse the neighbour had endured over a considerable period of time and the latest outburst of, ‘Gis me fucking ball back yeh smelly old cunt.’

Mrs Willis was indeed old, but smelly, she most definitely was not. She kept her little terraced house clean and tidy and lived in abject fear of the two young thugs who lived next door.

The jury are never allowed to know the previous convictions of defendants as it is considered extremely prejudicial to a defendant’s right to a fair trial. Johnson’s barrister knew it would serve no useful purpose to question the guard and equally dismissive with his gesturing hand, said to the Judge, ‘I have no questions for this witness M’lud.’

The Judge turned to the guard. ‘Thank you Mr D for the evidence you have given to this court today. You are dismissed, and I hope that your wounds quickly heal and you regain full use of you’re hand. You have been most honest and forthright in your testimony. I understand that you remain employed by your company in an administration capacity and it is to be hoped that you are never subjected to such violence again. Thank you once more.’

As the guard left the witness box, a woman juror sitting nearest to the witness looked across at Johnson in the dock. He was handcuffed and another chain was around his waist securing him to a rail. Two prison guards stood either side of him. Another stood behind him to restrain him if required. He saw the juror looking at him. He smiled at her and raised both his arms and made a sawing motion, simulating him cutting off one of his own wrists. At this gesture, the young woman fainted and had to be led from the courtroom whereupon the Judge declared a short recess in order that she may be allowed to compose herself and continue once more.

Fifteen years was certainly not enough jail time for the evil sub human that smiled and blew kisses to the jury as sentence was passed. They all knew that with parole and other matters taken into consideration he would serve no more than eight or nine years.

Fortunately the security guard was able to make a reasonable recovery as surgeons managed to re-attach the severed hand thanks to a quick thinking checkout assistant who rushed to the blood splattered scene with several bags of ice from the Supermarket freezer department. He would only ever have limited use of his hand and he would never recover the use of his little finger or ring finger as they were in a permanently straightened position as a result of tendon damage

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Clark Steven - Just Another Day Just Another Day
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