KIMMY'S LIST

CHAPTER 24

After spending the balance of the day in the Oolong police station cells, then enduring the uncomfortable sixty minute ride on a cold steel seat, Kimberly returned to the one place she never wanted to see again.

Once she stepped inside the cottage with her escort, Kimberly ignored anyone in her path - including Clive on the front desk, as she stormed into her cell and flopped face down onto her bed. She buried her head into her pillow.

No longer could she fight the melting pot of pent up emotions consuming her. Overwhelming disappointment, fear, anger, frustration and embarrassment all flooded out with the salty tears being absorbed into her pillow.

Several hours passed while Kimberly remained in her self - imposed isolation she’d rolled onto her back with her fingers locked behind her head, staring at the ceiling. All she could think of was the loss of the life and the freedom she once knew.

She thought about how a manifestly flawed justice system that locked away innocent people, had deprived her of precious time with her husband. She nearly lost him once to a horrific car accident. She didn’t want to come through all that only to lose him for something she didn’t do.

Kimberly’s focus shifted to Clive when he appeared in the doorway to her cell. He held up a cup in each hand. ‘I thought you could use this…’ he said. He approached Kimberly. ‘White and none, if I’m not mistaken.’

Kimberly swung her feet to the floor as Clive approached. She accepted the cup. ‘You are so nice, Clive,’ she said, then took a sip.

Ever the professional, Clive remained standing near the cell door. To be seen sitting on a female inmate’s bed would border on inappropriate behaviour for the friendly guard, even though his intentions were nothing but genuine.

As it was, he probably crossed some sort of line making Kimberly a coffee and taking it to her in her cell.

‘I’ve gotta say, Kimberly …. I was a little disappointed when I heard you were coming back. I genuinely hoped for your sake that I never saw you again.’

Clive’s warming, heartfelt words were a silver lining to all her darkness. For the first time in a while, a semblance of a slight smile appeared on her face. ‘You are so sweet, Clive.’ She held her cup with two hands as she sipped her coffee.

‘Look,’ Clive began. ‘He leaned a shoulder on the door frame. ‘For what it’s worth…. I don’t know you very well…But, from what I’ve seen of you from your time in here, you don’t strike me as the type of person who was capable of doing the things they’re saying you did. You’re too kind, too genuine in nature. I’m telling you this because … I believe you will beat this at trial.’

Kimberly rolled her eyes. Her head lolled forward. She now had her doubts after losing today’s committal.

Clive continued. ‘Trials are completely different to committal hearings…. They have a judge and a jury…People who just like you, have real emotions. The police have to prove to this jury, beyond all reasonable doubt, that you are guilty. I’m confident the jury will see what I see and set you free.’ He took a sip.

Kimberly’s welling eyes fell to the floor. Her lips quivered. Whether she realized or not, she needed to hear those words of comfort and reassurance. They gave her a glimmer of hope at a time she was at her lowest,

‘You’re way too kind to be a prison guard, Clive. I always thought prison guards were supposed to be tough and rugged and uncaring towards prisoner’s under their charge…’ Her glistening eyes moved to Clive. ‘You proved me wrong with that generalized impression. You are a genuine, caring person who is good at his job. Thank you so much.’

Clive pushed himself from the door frame. He held out his hand to Kimberly. ‘I’ll take care of that for you….’

Kimberly drained her mug and handed it to Clive. ‘Thank you. You have no idea how much you have helped me after today…’ Kimberly said.

Clive’s mouth straightened ‘Glad I could be of help.’ With a nod and a cup in each hand, he left the cell.

Kimberly fell back onto her bed. Thanks to Clive’s kind words of encouragement, she now had renewed hope that this would all end favourably.

Kimberly’s long awaited trial began with jury selection. Duncan used his challenges - the option to exclude a person from jury selection, without reason, to try and select more women would be more compassionate to Kimberly’s plight.

Duncan also tried for younger aged jurors. It was his theory that the younger generation were more open minded to accept Kimberly’s psychic abilities, compared to the closed minds of the older generations.

The long process culminated with a jury of seven women and five men selected and sworn in. The average age of the jury was around late thirties to early forties, which Duncan was satisfied with, given the average was artificially bolstered by two jurors of retirement age.

A throng of television media recorded Kimberly’s arrival at court, as she stepped from the prison bus into the court building. From there she was taken to a holding cell while waiting to be called into court. The cell was a stark room with no toilet, no bed and timber bench seats lining the wall.

Kimberly sat in the corner of the cell quietly passing assessing eyes over the other four people in there with her. There were three males and one female. Every one of them was heavily tattooed. To Kimberly, they all looked rough around the edges, people who had lived tough lives.

Most of them had poor dental hygiene. Numerous teeth were missing, while those teeth that remained, were crooked and heavily stained.

Their conversations bordered on moronic. None were foreigners to our shores, but many of them failed to articulate sentences remotely resembling the English language, as she knew it. Obtaining an education was clearly not the priority for any of these cell mates, she mused.

Kimberly was thankful to be the first from the cell to be called forward. A corrections officer escorted Kimberly through the inner bowels of the court building to a timber door. When the officer opened the door, bright light flooded in. Kimberly stepped into the prisoner dock located off to the side of the Supreme Court.

She passed a nervous, first - time glance around. The large open room was brightly lit with timber lined walls and high ceilings.

At the front of the room was the large elevated timber bench. An empty high - backed leather chair sat below a framed picture of a much younger president.

Rows of empty chairs, provided for the public gallery, were positioned behind the bar table, which was currently occupied by numerous lawyers fussing about.

For Kimberly, it was like stepping back in time to the Early 1800s. There were so many wigs and black robes worn by the legal counsels.

She had only seen Duncan wearing his bespoke suit at the magistrate’s court.

Standing at the bar table with his colleagues, he now wore the uniform of the High Counsel, colloquially referred to as, ‘Silks’ because of the black full length silk robes they wore in the higher courts.

Duncan appeared so different to how Kimberly remembered him. He wore the barrister’s traditional off-white, horse-hair wig with tight curls and little pony tails hanging down.

He also wore the full-length black silk robe with a white jabot, which is a type of white bib with a plain collar and two strips of straight white fabric that Barristers wore around their neck.

As a first timer to this level of court, it was all very regal in appearance to Kimberly.

Kimberly took her seat in the dock. She didn’t like sitting over there. She was not the criminal they’d made her out to be, yet she was forced to sit in this open, timber enclosure with a corrections officer escort.

The whole process of being treated like a convicted criminal before her court trial, undermined her presumption of innocence.

The judgemental scrutiny Kimberly received from public and press as they filed into court offended her dignity. The whole process was humiliating. She was effectively put up on a pedestal for all to see and judge.

At the instructions of the tipstaff - the judge’s court room assistant - all present in court stood for the judge’s entrance. The judge ambled in through a door located beside his bench. Dressed in a regal red gown and white wig, the judge was an older man, probably in his mid or late seventies.

He instantly commanded a presence in the room. Following the standard bow, everyone sat. Kimberly frowned across at the empty jury box. Where’s the jury? I thought Duncan said they’d already empanelled a jury.

Duncan stood an introduced himself to the court. This was followed by the crown prosecutor doing the same.

Following conversations between the judge and counsellors at the bar table, of which Kimberly couldn’t follow, the judge asked Duncan for the defence’s plea.

Duncan jumped to his feet. His focus shifted to Kimberly. He gestured to her to stand, which she did. ‘Are you Happy to accept the plea through me, Your Honour?’

‘Is your client’s ability to speak in some way impaired?’

‘No, you’re Honour.’

‘Then I’ll hear the plea through the accused, directly.’

‘Very well, sir,’ Duncan said.

The judge’s firm glare shifted to Kimberly. ‘How do you intend to plead in relation to the charges against you?’

All eyes in the court were now in Kimberly. Her heart rate instantly rose. She rubbed her hands together as her gaze shifted to Duncan. Her eyebrows lifted. Is this where I say not guilty? Duncan gave a single nod of reassurance. That was enough for her.

‘Not guilty, you’re Honour,’ Kimberly said in a firm tone. She wanted to sound convincing.

‘Ah, that plea applies to all to the seven charges, Your Honour,’ Duncan clarified.

‘Thank you. I have recorded a plea of Not Guilty to all charges.’

Duncan took his seat. He gestured to Kimberly to sit, which she did.

The judge instructed the tipstaff to bring the jury in.

A door opposite where Kimberly sat, opened. Kimberly watched the twelve people chosen to decide on her future, file in and take a seat in the jury box. Most glanced straight across at her. She felt them judging her.

The door to the rear of the court room opened. Kimberly smiled when Boyd entered, followed by her mother and father and Naomi. Trailing behind them was her older brother and his wife and her younger sister, who had flown over from Perish to show her support.

They moved to sit in the first row, behind the bar table. Kimberly smiled her welcome to each of her support team. But it was her husband she couldn’t take her eyes off.

The opening arguments were presented. The state was first to summarize what they would prove to the court. A heavy focus was placed on Kimberly’s list and how the accused knew the location of seven missing persons, each of whom had been murdered.

The prosecutor briefly touched on Kimberly’s claim to possess psychic abilities, and how scientific theory questioned such an ability. He closed by adding a comment about when the jury learned that the accused failed to present any evidence to validate these psychic skills, they would have no alternative but to return a finding of guilty.

Duncan stood from his seat and addressed the jury. ‘Throughout this trial you will hear evidence from the State about how psychic phenomena, in particular, the psychic ability to communicate with people who had passed on, is not supported by modern science. That is merely a heavily debated and inconclusive scientific finding.

‘People in nearly every culture have believed that communication with the departed, is possible. Ghosts and spirit communication appears in classic literature, including mythology, The Bible and Shakespeare’s plays.

‘Some of you may have heard of an American woman by the name of Alison Dubois. Ms. Dubois is a psychic medium who studied to become a prosecuting attorney…’ He said, with a gesture towards the state prosecutor. ‘Until she decided she could offer more by using her mediumship abilities professionally.

‘Today she is one of America’s most sought after mediums, regularly employed by law enforcement agencies to assist in solving crimes and locating missing persons. They even created a TV series about Ms. Dubois called, ‘Medium.’ Some of you may have seen that show.

‘You may be interested to learn that Ms. Dubois volunteered herself to be subjected to a variety of tests and experiments to prove her abilities. The results are all published and they demonstrated, not only did she possess genuine mediumship abilities, but these abilities were considered exceptional.

But whether you are a believer, or a non-believer in psychic phenomena is irrelevant to these proceedings. You are not here to find on the existence of the afterlife, or one’s ability to communicate with the dead.

‘Your job is to decide on whether the State proves beyond all reasonable doubt,’ he said with deliberate emphasis, ‘I’ll say that again… ‘He paused to eye each of the jury members. ‘The State needs to prove beyond - all - reasonable - doubt…..that my client is guilty of these charges of murder.

‘If you remain impartial to your beliefs on life after death and find solely on the evidence presented to this court, you will find that the State had no evidence linking my client to the crimes for which she had been accused and you will have no option but to return a verdict of Not Guilty. Thank You.’

Duncan returned to his seat at the bar table.

Based on Kimberly’s understanding of court room procedures acquired from watching movies, most of which were US movies, they were standard opening arguments presented by each team.