Posts Tagged ‘jury-service’

They think it’s all over
Well, they’re done with me — we reached a majority verdict at about 4.15pm, and were dismissed soon after. We actually got some verbal abuse as we left the court building, so the 12 of us toddled off to the pub afterwards. Hence me typing this whilst half-cut. Will probably re-do this tomorrow — after writing several letters of complaint to various people… In the meantime, my advice to everyone would be: do jury service, as it’s a real eye-opener; and don’t buy a poppy from the Royal British Legion.

Maybe his mum blew the money down the Bingo!!!
Wednesday turned out to be a more interesting day in court, with quite a few comedy moments (think stereotypical East-end types). Thankfully the we got through the rest of the interview transcript in about half an hour, then the jury was sent down to the canteen for about 30 minutes as the barristers discussed a point of law with the judge. After a little bit more evidence, we were sent away for a long lunch. Two of us met up with some other jurors who were waiting to be called for another trial, and the four of us wandered across the road to the pub (just the one Guinness — trying to be responsible). The defence began their case this afternoon, which proved to be very interesting, if not exactly conclusive either way. A few more comedy moments, one of which had the whole court laughing (including judge and both advocates). Anyway, we finished at about 4.15pm, with only the closing arguments and the judge’s summing up left for tomorrow. So it looks like we may be deliberating in the jury room by lunchtime.

Don’t Panic!
The “Dad’s Army case”, as we’ve started to call it, is getting slightly more interesting, with tales of drugs, mysterious characters called Victory, and witnesses using words like “scumbag”, “dirtbag” and “filth”. Unfortunately Tuesday afternoon was spent listening to the prosecuting advocate and a detective reading out the transcripts of several interviews with the defendant. Not the salient, juicy highlights, but the whole damn thing. And as neither of them is exactly Ken Brannagh or Robert De Niro, their monotone voices made it hard to concentrate. If there were any interesting points in there, we probably missed them. By the time the session finished, after about two hours of this, we still hadn’t reached the end.

Shoot me now
Today I was called to sit on the jury of what must surely rank as one of the dullest trials ever to come before a court of law. It’s so tedious that I can’t be bothered writing the details of it right now — just thinking about it is liable to send me into a catatonic state. Frankly, I think this could have been dealt with by a magistrate in about three hours, but no, apparently it’s likely to last four or five days. We spent two hours listening to details that I could have summed up in about ten minutes. Do we really need to examine a fucking ‘thank you’ card from the Royal British Legion poppy appeal? How much is this costing the taxpayer? The longer I spend around the court, the more I realise what a complete shambles the British criminal justice system is.

This feeling wasn’t helped by watching a programme on telly this evening about Barry George, the guy convicted of killing TV presenter Jill Dando. Don’t know how that got to court in the first place, let alone how his appeal failed. One is left with a feeling that there’s corruption and a cover-up by the authorities. Seems to me that the Serbian connection, outlined in a Guardian article — Shadow of doubt? — has real credibility.

Interestingly, again I was one of only two people on the jury that didn’t want to take the religious oath. Maybe it’s not that surprising, considering a recent swearing survey found that 10% of people consider the word God to be a very severe swear word. Freaks. Naturally cunt came top of the nasty words poll. And speaking of cunts, I see that Jeffrey Archer, one of the slimiest, most corrupt cunts in Britain, has landed a cushy day-release job in the theatre, after serving only a quarter of a four-year sentence for perjury and perverting the course of justice. And he’s signed a multi-million pound book deal whilst inside. See what I mean about British justice?

Popping in to say hello
Guaranteed another trial today, I thought to myself as I arrived at 10am. But no, it wasn’t to be. Sat chatting with a few of the jurors from Tuesday in the waiting room (Phoenix Nights, Man Utd.’s loss, crap daytime US soap on TV, more Elvis etc.). We had a good laugh when we heard that the foreman from that trial had been on another jury yesterday, and had got a real bollocking from the judge for wearing shorts in the courtroom! Maybe if it wasn’t 30 degrees and they had some bloody air conditioning… Rather brings to mind that line from Withnail & I — “You think you look normal, your honour?”. Just as we found that out, another of my co-jurors wandered in wearing scruffy cut-off demin shorts, much to our amusement. But anyway, most of us were sent home at 12.15, and told we wouldn’t be needed until Monday, as there was only one trial left that day. Guess most of the judges must take their holidays in August.

It wasn’t like this for Henry Fonda
There were only two new cases today, and I wasn’t selected to be on either jury, so no chance for me to hand out any Badger-justice. Fortunately about half the people from the jury I was on yesterday were in the same position as me, and we spent all morning chatting. A nice assortment of people. We were sent home at 2.30, but not before we’d had time to take the piss out of the Elvis biopic on TV (poor old Sheppy). After I left the building, I walked along the river to Waterloo Bridge with another juror, discussing the pros and cons of being a juror on the Harold Shipman trial. Mostly cons, we decided.

Scumbags 1, Criminal Justice System 0
I was called for my first trial today. At 11am the Jury Manager called out 15 names, and we were led up to Court 12 on the 5th floor by an usher (there are two lifts exclusively for jurors’ use). Once inside the courtroom, we all sat down and waited as 12 names were called out at random. Those called (including me) then trotted over and sat down in the jury box. There were no challenges to the selected jurors, so we were sworn in.

Surprisingly I was one of only two people to take the affirmation, as opposed to the religious oath on the holy book of their choice (I decided against asking to take the oath holding The Simpsons—A Complete Guide To Our Favorite Family). I suspect that most people went with the default oath for sake of ease and embarrassment. The final guy to read the oath had some trouble — I was sat next to him and couldn’t understand a word — and after the judge asked him to repeat it, he was dismissed because of his dubious English. This meant that one of the spare jurors had to take his place. Then the trial began.

The defendant was charged with Wounding with Intent to do Grievous Bodily Harm (which I later discovered carried a maximum of life imprisonment). We had a pencil and pad of paper each, but it was hardly necessary to take notes, as only three people gave evidence — the victim, the defendant and the interviewing detective. At this point I have to be careful what I write, as I could find myself sent down for contempt of court if I give any details of my or my fellow jurors’ thoughts.

What I will say is that the prosecution was awful, totally amateurish and unprepared. It’s no wonder the police reputedly say that CPS doesn’t stand for Crown Prosecution Service, but actually Couldn’t Prosecute Satan.

We were in court for about an hour and a half; after the closing speeches and judge’s summing up, the 12 of us were led out to be locked in the jury room to consider our verdict. Sat around a large table (think 12 Angry Men), we introduced ourselves and said our bit (mostly along the lines of “Ooh, it’s just like it is on telly!”). At one point we had a question about the prosecution’s evidence, so we buzzed for the usher, who took a note to the judge. After a few minutes we were called back into the courtroom, where we were basically told that no, we couldn’t find out what we wanted to know. Back to the jury room. Sandwiches were ordered (no, not free), fags were smoked. Another question for the bloke in the funny wig, so back to court we went. Then back to the jury room again.

We eventually reached a unanimous verdict after about three hours deliberation. Our foreman was volunteered (as it was so hot, he was wearing t-shirt and shorts!), and we went back into the courtroom for the final time. Not guilty.

The jury was thanked and told to go home, so the 12 of us left via the jury waiting room. We left the building at exactly the same time as the cleared defendant, who thanked us. A bit weird (you’d think they’d stagger it, or at least send them out by a different exit). A few of us walked back to the station, muttering about the prosecution, then went our separate ways. Hmm, an interesting yet rather depressing experience.

Anti-climax
I started my jury service today. Luckily on Sunday night I checked the map they’d sent me to see if there was a particular entrance I needed to use. Turned out the court I was planning to go to, between Borough tube and Elephant, was actually the Inner London Crown Court, and not Southwark Crown Court as I’d thought! Southwark Crown Court is actually located right next to the Thames, overlooking HMS Belfast.

Anyhow, got the train to London Bridge this morning and arrived in plenty of time. Once inside, I went up to the jurors’ waiting room (now I know what airports do with their old departure lounge furniture when they redecorate), and signed in.

We’re given a subsistence allowance (£4.51 per day, or £2.22 if we’re there for less than 5 hours) on a SMART card, which can be used in the jurors’ canteen at the other end of the waiting room. This sounds OK, but doesn’t actually go that far; the canteen (presumably privately run) charges £3.50 for a hot (lifeless) meal, £2.25 for a sandwich and, worst of all, 80 pence for a coffee (more porta-cabin-in-lay-by than Starbucks-Double-Mocha-Chocco-Froth-Delight). I assumed, as everyone there was giving up their time and money to do jury service, that the food would be subsidised and that tea and coffee would be free. Yeah, right.

There were about 150 other people doing jury service there, some on the first week, some on their second. After watching a “this is what the judge looks like” video, I filled in some forms and sat waiting to do my bit for justice. And waited. And waited. I read the Guardian. I did the crossword. I read the paper again. A few people, mostly second-weekers, were called, but other than that there wasn’t anything happening. In the booklet I was sent before attending, it said “you may have to wait some time before your name is called so you will find it helpful to bring along a book or magazine”. I assumed it would be an hour or two at most, but at that point began to think I should have brought along War and Peace and the Complete Works of Shakespeare. Made a mental note not to wear a suit and tie next time.

We were allowed to leave the building at lunchtime between 1pm and 2pm, so I bought a BLT sarnie and wandered along the river to London’s new City Hall, which I’d not seen ‘in the flesh’ before. Looks pretty good. I decided not to go inside, as I figured I needed a little treat to look forward to later on in my service. Perhaps I’ll pop aboard HMS Belfast too — apparently we jurors get discounted entrance.

At 2.30pm the Jury Manager (to be fair, the staff are friendly, good humoured and seem to appreciate that it’s not much fun for us) announced that we could go home. So there you have it, five hours of mind-numbing boredom and no sign of entering a courtroom. What an anti-climax.

I received notification a few days ago that I’ve been chosen for Jury Service at Southwark Crown Court next month. I’m half excited about this (a high-profile serial killer case could be… was going to say fun, but perhaps interesting is a more appropriate word), and half annoyed (inevitable loss of earnings, and I’ll probably get some dull, small-scale fraud case). As the leaflets the Court Service sent me weren’t particularly informative, I decided to see what Google would come up with. As it happens, there’s a rather useful website — CJS Online — Juror Online — with interactive walk-throughs explaining what happens on jury service and the stages and procedures that you experience when you attend court to serve. It’s done in Flash, and allows you to select the court you’ll be serving (there are about 15, including Southwark and Cardiff) and shows you photos the courtroom, jury room etc. of that particular court, the roles of the different people present during a trial, and so on. Definitely putting the web to good use.