Chapter Nineteen

To say that pandemonium broke loose in the city jail in Newcastle that morning was an understatement. The desk sergeant and PC7 had been placed in a cell, while Lockett and Major were in a separate cell and Brazier was alone in another one. Over six weeks had passed by since they were on remand and the effect of not having their tablets had begun to take a severe told on all five men.

The city desk sergeant in the reception area looked at the clock on the wall at exactly eight-thirty o’clock and he called out for the duty officer.

‘Time to take the prisoners breakfast, Lacey,’ he called out to another police officer. The case is scheduled for ten o’clock and I’ve arranged for a Black Maria to take them to the Court at nine-thirty.’

Lacey came swiftly to the city desk sergeant. ‘I hear they’re coming before Lord Justice Holman,’ he stated firmly. ‘He’ll soon sort them out!’

‘Yes,’ added the desk sergeant. ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry about this one. You know how he hates policemen ever since that constable made him look a fool in Court. The problem with him is that whenever they find anyone guilty he always gives them the full sentence. There’s no mercy with him. You’d better get them their breakfast. Time’s going on!’

The duty officer collected a tray on which rested two plastic plates of egg and bacon, one of toast and two plastic mugs of tea. He left the reception area to go down to the first cell, singing a song from the stage show Oliver as he carried the tray high above him like a seasoned waiter in an Italian restaurant.

‘Food glorious food, with pineapples and custard...’

He tailed off in his rendered version of the song as he came to the first cell and looked inside. The tray and all its contents fell from his grasp to clatter dully on the stone floor as he dropped it in horror. His face took on a shocked expression as he stared at the desk sergeant and PC7 inside the cell. He hadn’t seen them for a few days and now he viewed them in a completely different light. They were still wearing their police uniforms, which was a ploy engendered by the Counsel who considered that the jury would look more favourably upon them if they could see that they were in the police force and had only been doing their duty. However it was the sight of the policemen that shocked him. Instead of two forty-five year old men that had been arrested, the cell contained two extremely old people well over the age of one hundred. They looked so completely different whereby the hair of PC7 was white and very thin while the desk sergeant was suddenly completely bald. Their shiny faces had turned into a very wrinkled form and their posture was that of two old men with spinal difficulties. It was as though a magician had waved a magic wand and transformed two middle-aged people into very old men overnight.

The duty officer staggered over the remains of the breakfast on the stone floor as he went ot the other two cells. In the first one, Lockett and Major had followed suit, turning into ancient people just like their colleagues in the first cell. However Lacey became even more concerned when he went to the last cell where Jonathan Brazier was incarcerated. The man lay inert on the floor appearing to be dead. He raced back to the front desk to appraise the city desk sergeant of the strange situation but he failed to make his mark because the response was one of disbelief.

‘Have you been drinking,’ asked the city desk sergeant, staring at the duty officer with a sneer showing on his face.

‘You want to see what I’ve just witnessed,’ exclaimed the duty officer bleakly. ‘Come and see for yourself! They’re all over a hundred years old and on of them is dead. Come and see!’

‘Dead? Is this some kind of a send-up?’ The city desk sergeant’s face turned into a frown as he moved around the desk to accompany the junior officer down to the cells.

He approached the first cell and stepped back two paces when he saw the state of the two men held inside.

‘I told you,’ declared the duty officer curtly.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ demanded the senior man in a similar state of shock. ‘How could this have happened?’

‘There’s going to have to be an enquiry... maybe a full investigation,’ uttered Lacey with a grim expression.

‘Worse than that,’ complained the city desk sergeant. ‘These men are due to appear in Court at ten o’clock today and they’re coming up against Judge Holman. How can we explain this away? What are we going to tell him?’

‘They’ll have to appear in Court,’ retorted the duty officer solemnly. They’ll have to be taken there whatever state they’re in... except for the one who I think is dead. He led the senior officer to the other cells to look at the incarcerated men.

‘Better get the doctor to have a look at the last man,’ ordered the city desk sergeant. ‘He looks to be a hundred years old and you’re right... he seems to be dead. I’ll get in touch with the Public Prosecutor to see whether we can get the case adjourned. If they go to Court in this condition there’ll be hell to pay!’

However the Public Prosecutor failed to heed the concern of the police. Nearly two months had passed since the arrest and the case book for Court actions was full. It had to take place now whatever the circumstances. Therefore, the order stood and the men were to be taken to the Courthouse.

Just over an hour later, the four remaining suspects were taken from their cells and herded into a Black Maria which had been parked outside the rear of the police station. It was driven towards the central court where the old men were gently taken in to the lower waiting chamber. When the time came, they had to be helped slowly up the stairs to the Courtroom. When they were placed in the dock, the jury and the spectators in the visitor’s gallery stared at them in disbelief as they waited for the Judge to appear.

‘Oyez and in presentment. This Court is now in session. All stand for Lord Justice Holman!’ commanded the court usher as the Judge entered the chamber.

He stared at the men in the dock as he sat down on his seat, banging his gavel as everyone muttered loudly at the sight of the accused. He looked down at the papers in front of him. ‘It states here that five men are accused,’ he spat angrily. ‘Why are there only four in the dock?’

The prosecuting counsel got to his feet to face the Judge. ‘I’m afraid the fifth man was found dead in his cell, M’lud.’ he declared unhappily, awaiting the full force of the Judge’s temper.

‘How did he die?’ He expected the counsel to tell him that the man had committed suicide.

‘It seems,’ came the strange reply, ‘that he died of old age.’

Holman stared at the prosecutor in amazement and then at the men in the dock over the top of his spectacles, noticing how old they were. ‘Is this some kind of convoluted action brought by the city police to humiliate this Court?’ he demanded critically with his temper rising. During his long career on the bench, he had experienced a long-running battle with the police force in the city and he detested their presence in his Court.

The city duty sergeant stood up to defend the situation. ‘If I may approach the bench, your honour... ... ...’ he began before he was rudely interrupted by the Judge.

‘No you cannot!’ snapped Holman angrily. ‘Sit down! How is it that these very old men are here on a charge of murder? Have the city police gone completely mad?’

‘No, M’lud,’ explained the prosecutor getting to his feet. ‘Apparently they were young two months ago but since then they’ve aged very badly.’

The Judge snorted angrily at the completely ridiculous explanation. ‘Are you compose mentis, man!’ he shouted irately. ‘How can four young men become old in two months? And how did the other accused die of old age? How long was he held in his cell?’ He paused for a moment. This was the strangest case he had ever had to try in his whole career. ‘This is a mockery,’ he added. ‘I want to see all counsel in my chambers immediately.’

He rose from his seat and the court usher called out his command. ‘All standing! Rise for Lord Justice Holman!’

There were two defence counsels... one for the desk sergeant and PC7 and the other for Lockett, Major and Brazier. Together with the prosecuting counsel, they met in the Judge’s chamber a few minutes later. The Judge was clearly hopping mad.

‘What on earth are you playing at,’ he snapped furiously at the prosecuting counsel. ‘Do you think we can seriously try a case of murder with four very old men in the dock. My God... they can hardly stand let alone wield a weapon to kill someone! The Court would be humiliated to hear a case against them. They must all be about a hundred years old. How come they conspired to murder anyone? And what with... their zimmer frames.’

‘We don’t understand it ourselves, Judge,’ came the reply. ‘I assure you they all looked about forty-five when they were arrested.’

The Judge snorted angrily believing that he was being taken for a ride by the city police. ‘I’m going to adjourn this case for everyone to review the situation. Imagine what the Press would do if the case was heard in Court. The thought is terrifying!’

By the time the prosecution and the defence counsels returned to the Court the desk sergeant had collapsed and the city doctor informed the public prosecutor that he had died of a heart attack. The affair in the Court was destined to be the most unspectacular event ever. The three remaining villagers were returned to the city police station but PC7 had passed away by the time they arrived there. It was a debacle that would remain in the files in the Newcastle city police for a very long time. In fact, in the effluxion of time, people reading past cases would come across the file and believe that the serving officers of the day had lost their minds and had gone completely mad. And who could really blame them?