The Shadow of Great Britain

11: Chapter 9 The Show Begins 11: Chapter 9 The Show Begins Facing the severe interrogation of the magistrate, Adam was trembling with fear; he glanced at Arthur in the prosecutor’s seat, then at the magistrate, who seemed to be burning with fury.

Tears filled his eyes as he stood there alone, weak and pitiful, yet at a loss for what to do.

Arthur spoke calmly, his tone unchanging, as though it was not a human speaking, but a precision machine.

“Your Honour, the police did not resort to any methods of torture to extort confessions, as is clear from the indictment.

The defendant, Adam Evans, voluntarily surrendered to the arrest and has made no secret of the crimes he has committed.

All interrogation procedures were carried out in compliance with the police’s internal principles and can withstand scrutiny by you and the general public.”

Upon hearing Arthur’s remarks, Adam also nodded incessantly while silently shedding tears.

He sobbed, stammering, “Your, Your Honour, the police did not use any methods of torture to extort confessions.

I, I have made no secret of my crimes, as the indictment clearly states.

I’m, I’m sorry, I’m guilty.”

The reactions of Arthur and Adam directly infuriated the magistrate, further confirming his suspicions.

He slammed down his gavel on the bench, almost bellowing as he demanded.

“Adam!

I’m asking you, you!

Why are you concerned with what the indictment says?

Why repeat the police’s words?

Why unconditionally agree with others’ opinions?

Do you know what will happen if the police’s indictment holds?

You will be hanged; you will face the death penalty!

Oh, child, don’t be foolish!

Do you know whose side you’re on?

I’m giving you an opportunity!

To let you expose the truth to the public so that you can receive a fair trial!”

Adam, frightened by the furious magistrate, fell to the ground in tears, sobbing, “I’m sorry, I’m guilty.

Your Honour, I’m sorry for making you angry.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a plump middle-aged lady from the jury sprang up.

She was like a spring that had had enough pressure and suddenly stood up, angrily accusing the magistrate.

“I don’t understand the law, nor do I know what the police’s principles are.

But from the standpoint of a mother of three children, you can’t yell at a nine-year-old child like you are doing, let alone terrorize him with the death penalty.

It’s not only undignified but also immoral!

You can’t treat him like this!”

The moment the middle-aged lady spoke, she immediately elicited the empathy of the other mothers present.

They loudly criticized the magistrate and Arthur, complained about why they had to bring such a small child to suffer in court, and even threatened to protest at the front of the Supreme Court after the trial over the injustice they experienced in the courtroom.

The magistrate rapped his gavel a few times, but no matter what, he could not silence them, and it only made their accusations louder.

The bailiffs wanted to step in to maintain order, but when they saw how indignant the women were, they couldn’t help but hesitate.

Most of the bailiffs were married men, and they understood that reasoning with women who were enraged was not a wise option.

Besides, regarding this matter alone, they too were inclined to support the women.

Before the women had finished speaking, the men also began to express their opinions.

A bespectacled office employee spoke out, “Your Honour, if I remember correctly, Adam Evans is merely a suspect at this point, far from being convicted.

But your tone sounds as if you are questioning a bona fide criminal.

And this child seems quite polite, behaving appropriately since the beginning of the trial; it’s hard for me to believe he committed any crime.”

A burly factory technician nodded, “This kid named Adam is much better than my own little troublemaker.

Mine is even two years older than him but doesn’t know to say hello to his father.

This child looks well-behaved; if my son were like him, I don’t know how much worry I would save.”

Facing the bailiffs who were working without putting in the effort and the restless and discontented jury, the magistrate, with no other recourse, could only wipe his sweat with his handkerchief and meekly ask them for mercy.

“Please, gentlemen and ladies, pay some attention to the order of the court.

I assure you that I will pay attention to my tone from now on.

This was my mistake, and I apologize to you all.”

Seeing the magistrate make a promise, the women then rolled their eyes at him and angrily sat back down in their seats.

The men also closed their mouths, which had been open with discussion, to see if the situation would improve later on.

The scene was dead silent, yet the nearly solidified air was filled with the smell of gunpowder.

The clerk sitting to the right of the magistrate noticed the icy atmosphere of the scene and couldn’t help but suggest to the judge.

“Sir, I don’t think the situation is fit for continuing the trial.

I propose a ten-minute recess to let everyone cool their heads.”

The magistrate quickly seized the opportunity to agree, “If that’s the case, then let’s have a ten-minute recess.

Ladies, what do you think?”

None of the women wanted to pay attention to the judge, and in the crucial moment, it was Mrs.

Peel, who knew the magistrate, that broke the deadlock.

“No one wished to see things develop this way.

Therefore, we respect your decision.”

The magistrate was like a man reprieved; clutching his head, he hurriedly prepared to go to the back room for a cup of tea to calm down.

Meanwhile, the bailiffs were ready to take the little Adam, who was sitting on the ground crying incessantly, back to the waiting room.

Seeing him cry like that, each of the women of the jury felt as if their hearts were breaking.

Mrs.

Peel, seeing this and feeling pity, proposed, “Let me stay with him.

I know how to comfort a child’s emotions.

Although it might not be proper, if Adam’s mood doesn’t improve, I’m afraid the trial cannot continue.”

The magistrate at this point could hardly utter a word of disagreement, even if he showed a hint of reluctance in his expression, these women might tear him apart on the spot.

He nodded and said, “Thank you for your kindness, Mrs.

Peel.”

The other women also spoke up one after another, requesting, “Mrs.

Peel, let me accompany you.”

“They’ve really gone too far.”

“I can hardly imagine that this is how interrogations are conducted in court!”

“My husband once thought of having our child study law, grow up and become a judge.

Now it seems like such a bad idea.

If he truly learned the law, he might not even recognize his own mother someday.”

The magistrate was verbally attacked by the women but dared not retort a single word.

At this point, he only wanted to leave this place of trouble as quickly as possible.

However, before his buttocks even left the seat, Arthur, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly spoke up.

“I’m sorry to delay everyone’s precious resting time, but would you be willing to sacrifice just ten short minutes to listen to me say a few words?”

Arthur unbuttoned his coat and placed the police uniform and officer’s sword on the seat behind him.

He rolled up his taut shirt cuffs, his strong arms resting on either side of the prosecutor’s bench, and wearing only a white shirt, he pleaded with everyone.

“The following words, I am not speaking to you as a sergeant of the London Metropolitan Police, nor as the prosecutor of this case, and certainly not as an executioner wanting to send little Adam to the gallows.

Rather, like everyone here, I am simply speaking as an ordinary London citizen with simple moral concepts and normal values, a good friend who knows the defendant Adam Evans, understands his family situation, hobbies, behavior habits, and past deeds.”

About this case and my personal experiences over the past six months, I’d like to have a brief chat with everyone.”