There was a ripple of laughter around the court at this, but not from the rabbits in the public gallery, who had been hanging on Lance’s every word.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Lance, ‘the confession to which I alluded earlier. Mr Knox was in fear of his life from the Hominid Supremacist group TwoLegsGood, who are well known to despise rabbits and are not keen on anyone who kills foxes, and there is strong circumstantial evidence – despite the stories you have read in the media – that it was they who burned the Rabbits’ house down, set fire to Mr Knox’s house, and murdered the Rabbits in their own home. Furthermore, they threatened Mr Knox with a punishment that is well known to be one meted out to those humans who are reputed to side with rabbits – the removal of the thumbs, usually with a bolt-cutter. A threat, the court can see, that was carried out, despite Mr Knox agreeing to confess to everything. His confession, therefore, is unreliable, and should be deemed inadmissible.’
There was a short pause, and someone entered at the back of the courtroom, walked forward and handed a note to the more junior of the prosecution barristers. He read the note, then stood up.
‘If it pleases the court,’ said the prosecutor, ‘I have just received a shocking communication that is pertinent to the proceedings here today. To the effect that opposing counsel, Mr Lance deBlackberry, does not have any professional credentials qualifying him to practise law and has thus fraudulently misrepresented himself, and should be immediately removed from the courtroom pending criminal charges.’
I had seen the junior barrister texting under the table as soon as Lance started to speak, and realised what was going on. Lance had cultivated a sense of incompetence for a very good reason.
‘We would also,’ said the senior prosecutor, ‘move for an adjournment of the proceedings until such time as Mr Knox can be properly represented.’
Lance, however, was not fazed in the least.
‘My legal diploma,’ he said in a loud, clear voice, ‘was sent to the court, which had ample time to review my credentials, but did not. My presence here is simply to undermine my client’s case and ensure Mr Knox be jailed for the maximum time possible. I was permitted and encouraged to represent Mr Knox only so I could fail.’
I expected the judge to intervene, but she did not.
‘But in light of my learned colleague’s accusation,’ continued Lance, ‘I would apply to this court to represent Mr Knox in a lay capacity as a McKenzie friend.61’
‘Ridiculous,’ said prosecution counsel. ‘Mr deBlackberry’s status and qualifications should be reviewed separately, and I must once again request, in the strongest possible terms, that these proceedings be adjourned.’
There was silence and we all watched the judge, who stared at Lance and prosecution council in turn.
‘The court is dismayed to learn that Mr deBlackberry is not legally permitted to speak,’ she said, ‘and since he has done so in the capacity of defence counsel, I find that he is in contempt of this court, and the court will fine him a solitary one pound, to be paid to the clerk before the end of the day. As regards his plea to become a McKenzie’s friend, I see no reason to deny this, and every reason to permit it. I should also warn prosecution counsel that I have taken note of Mr deBlackberry’s concerns, and will direct my staff to make enquiries. If the concerns prove justified, I fully intend to bring charges against anyone who has attempted to pervert the course of justice. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, Your Honour,’ said the head prosecution barrister.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Mr deBlackberry? Please continue.’
Lance cleared his throat and summarised what he had said so far: that I had been coerced and threatened to confess – something that was apparent by my thumbless condition – and that I was actually in the Rabbits’ house to indulge in a little fox-hunting.
‘Yes indeed,’ said the lead prosecution barrister, ‘the thorny fox-hunting issue. Would learned counsel care to demonstrate to the court just how he can prove this ridiculous suggestion, given there were no horses or hounds?’
There wasn’t any laughter this time around, and Lance drew several evidence photographs from a folder.
‘I draw the court’s attention to crime scene photographs 8, 17, 34, 26 and 38. In all of them an owl can clearly be seen. I would also like to draw your attention to photograph 78, in which we see Mr Knox’s burned-out house the following morning, in which an aviary is, again, clearly visible. I also have a signed receipt, here entered as defence exhibit B, to show that said aviary and owl were delivered to Mr Knox the week before.’
He paused to take a sip of water.
‘The Hunting Act of 2004 clearly states that a bird of prey may be used to flush a fox, and a bird of prey – brought by Mr Knox himself – was there in Hemlock Towers when Mr Knox was doing what the law permitted: legally destroying vermin. Once again I appeal to this court to dismiss all charges and release my client.’
‘None of this was in discovery,’ said the prosecution barrister, ‘and shows a flagrant lapse in procedural rectitude.’
‘Agreed,’ said the judge. ‘I find Mr deBlackberry in contempt again, and fine him another pound. As for dismissing the charges against Mr Knox, I find Mr deBlackberry’s argument plausible, and given the grey areas regarding Mr Ffoxe’s taxonomic status, I no longer believe there is enough evidence to satisfy this court that Mr Ffoxe was human when he was killed, and I therefore dismiss the charge of murder. As for the “intimate association” charge, I find that Mr Knox’s confession, in light of the personal attack upon him in prison, should be regarded as tainted, and is also inadmissible. Without it, I cannot see any likely chance of a conviction, and dismiss this charge also.’
There was a collective sigh of annoyance from the humans in the public gallery, and three ‘huzzahs’ from the rabbits. The judge directed her next comments to Lance.
‘Mr deBlackberry, I have been as impressed with your qualities in this court today as much as I have been disappointed by prosecution counsel’s attempt to undermine the rule of law. I will warn you, Mr deBlackberry, that in future you should not misrepresent yourself in court as other judges may not be so tolerant. Consider this a reprimand. Mr Knox, you are free to go.’
The judge then stood up, the court stood up, and ten minutes later I found myself blinking on the steps of the courthouse.
‘My client has no comment at this time,’ said Lance as we made our way through the phalanx of reporters to a waiting RabCab, in this instance a charmingly ugly 1973 Ford Gran Torino.
‘Nffiffr hrff niffrh?’ asked the cabbie, who was an old flea-bitten buck with a single hole in his left ear that was so large he must have duelled with a howitzer.
‘Colony One,’ said Lance, ‘and step on it.’
The cabbie did indeed ‘step on it’, but only in a strictly relative way: he ramped it up to a heady 40 mph, only 12.62 mph below the all-time self-piloted rabbit land speed record. I think I realised then how they made their cars last so long.
‘Is that wise?’ I asked. ‘I’m probably the last person who should be seen anywhere near the May Hill colony.’
‘You need to be there,’ said Lance.