In accordance with tradition, the first round had been on Quinlan as the SIO. Having briefly stood in for Andy while he’d been off sick, Jack felt obliged to pay for the second round, which he’d jokingly described as a consolation prize for them having to put up with his manic leadership for a few days.
About an hour in, Jonathan Lacroix and his junior arrived, and the barrister insisted on putting his hand in his pocket and buying everyone a drink.
Murray had been the first to accept the offer. “I’ll have a double scotch,” he’d declared, eyeing up Heather Quayle hungrily.
Steve Bull saw this and leaned into him with a smirk. “She’s way out of your league, sunshine!”
Murray was having none of it. “Rubbish. There’s nothing posh totty like her enjoy more than a bit of rough.”
Bull nearly choked on his beer. “You really have no idea about women, do you Kev?”
Before long, they had effectively taken over one corner of the pub. Nibbles were organised and then the obligatory speeches started. The first was from Quinlan, who thanked everyone for a job well done, and the second was from Lacroix. The QC was full of praise for the magnificent way in which the murder squad officers had carried out the investigation and prepared the case for court.
After toasting their fallen comrade and the victory they had obtained on his behalf, which left a bittersweet taste in their mouths, Lacroix had felt compelled to touch upon the bravery and professionalism of the officers who had been awarded Judges Commendations for their roles in apprehending those responsible at the end of the trial, namely Tyler, Dillon, Susie Sergeant, Nick Bartholomew and Terry Grier.
Bartholomew and Grier had been gobsmacked to receive the Judge’s commendations at court and were dead chuffed to have been invited along to join in the celebrations afterwards.
Lacroix also spoke a little about the sentences that each of the defendants had received, saying how pleased he was with the way that the judge had summed things up. He ended by proclaiming that justice been done today and they could all sleep well tonight, knowing they had played a part in making it happen.
“I’m gonna sleep well tonight because I’m pished,” Charlie White had slurred, and everyone laughed.
Tyler was invited to speak next, and after thanking everyone for all their hard work he said that he hoped the harsh sentences that had been handed out today would act as a deterrent for others in the future, and that taking Winston out of circulation had undoubtedly saved more lives.
As he supped his beer afterwards, Tyler reflected that the four defendants were going to serve a combined total of ninety-nine-years. Winston had received thirty-five-years for Morrison’s murder; Garston had been given twenty-eight, and Marley and Mullings had got off lightly with a mere eighteen apiece. The judge had explained that his starting point had been a tariff of thirty and that he had then taken into account any specific aggravating or mitigating factors that counsel had flagged up to him when he’d invited each of them to address the bench in turn before he’d passed sentence.
There had been a host of other charges on the indictment, including possession of firearms and ammunition with intent to endanger life and administering noxious substances to PCs Lassiter and O’Brien. The jury had also unanimously convicted the three defendants on all of these.
“I spoke to Winston’s QC before I came to join you,” Lacroix said when he was alone with Tyler, Dillon, and Quinlan. “His view is that Winston should just plead guilty to the two outstanding attempted murders and not waste everyone’s time with a lengthy trial that will inevitably end in a conviction. After all, the CCTV evidence alone is sufficient to prove his guilt.”
“I could live with that,” Tyler said.
The trial for the two counts of attempted murder had been put back until November. There had been discussions at one point about linking all the outstanding matters together and just holding one trial, but that would have been a logistical nightmare. In the end, Winston’s counsel had requested separation, with the murder of PC Morrison to take primacy and the two attempted murders to be dealt with afterwards.
Tyler had always suspected there was a hidden agenda behind the request; if Winston had already been convicted of two attempted murders when the judge passed sentence for PC Morrison’s murder, Winston would most probably have been looking at a whole life order being imposed. This way, at some stage in the distant future, he might still qualify for parole.
“Of course, he’s yet to persuade his belligerent client to agree to this course of action,” Lacroix said, smiling ruefully, “but he seemed fairly optimistic that Winston would go along with it.”
Jack wasn’t so confident. “I hope he does, but I won’t believe it until I see it,” he said.
With the murder trial out of the way, and Winston likely to plead guilty to the two attempted murders, there were no other loose ends to tie up.
After his interview at Plaistow police station back in January, Rodney Dawlish had been charged with an offence of assisting an offender contrary to the Criminal Law Act 1967. He had pleaded guilty at his first appearance at Crown Court back in March, at which point the case had been adjourned for pre-sentence reports. As he had no previous convictions and the prosecution had conceded that his learning difficulties made him vulnerable to manipulation by unscrupulous people like Garston, the court had decided to treat him with leniency when it reconvened three weeks later. He could easily have been looking at a five years custodial, but he had instead received a two year suspended sentence. He had also been fined, awarded six penalty points and disqualified from driving for six months for
