Written on 8 April 2019
The throng in the gallery booed and hissed as I made my case. I could have sworn I saw one or two in the jury doing the same. The whole proceeding was a farce.
The client, just a teenager who liked to wear hoodies who happened to be in the general area when the store front burnt down, had given up. He almost looked bored by the proceedings by this point, with his chin leaning on his crossed arms, not looking at anything in particular.
I had argued throughout the case that the bakery almost certainly burnt down due to the faulty oven the owner hadn't had serviced in a few decades. I showed the fire marshall report, the bakery gas safety records, or lack thereof, and even the owner, who is insured either way, shrugging and saying it probably was the shitty equipment he needed to replace. But, I mean, this community, man. . . Hell hath no fury like a community who can't get access to baked treats.
“Putting aside that this clearly wasn't arson anyway, my client was not even in the same postcode. He has a stone cold alibi. He was working at the petrol station the whole day. I have shown you the CCTV footage. You can see he only leaves to go to the toilet. He is only unaccounted for for 72 seconds in total, hardly. . .” The fat local solicitor, one who was offered free chocolate croissants every Thursday morning by the baker, stands up and interrupts me. I waited for the judge to say something, but he was very blatantly playing with his phone.
“All he is showing there is that the defendant had access to petrol. And what does petrol create? That's right. Fire!” The gallery howl and boo and act shocked. I'm fairly sure my client has fallen asleep. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury you should not ask yourself if the defendant is guilty, but what punishment he should receive.”
“Hang him.” Offered a man with jam stains down his oversized shirt.
“Shoot him out of a cannon.” A child shouted, getting a little carried away with all the hysteria.
“Bake him into a pie.” A woman at the back, too much lipstick and eyes slightly bossed. The mob cheered in ascent. I sat down. There was very little point in any of this. Very little point at all.