After more than 30 years covering the crown courts, I often wonder if anything will shock or surprise me.
I’ve listened to evidence about the most heinous of crimes, some aspects of which have been almost beyond words and too awful to even be reported.
On the other hand, there have been stories of remarkable courage and determination from the likes of victims and have-a-go heroes.
Then there is the laugh-out-loud, bizarre or cringe moments – lovelorn defendants incurring a judge’s wrath by kissing in the dock, an usher acting as a ‘stand-in’ for a victim in an attempted murder trial to demonstrate how she was stabbed, or urinals leaking into the courtroom below.
But one recent trial still managed to draw a gasp – or rather the actions of those involved in it.
Kent is lucky (although some defendants may disagree) in that its criminal courts – magistrates and crown – are extensively covered by this news group’s designated and vastly experienced court reporters. Some might say it’s unrivalled.
But there are times when local reporters are joined by the national media – the ‘big guns’, so to speak.
Sadly, they can often lack experience in covering court hearings and all the ‘dos and don’ts’ that come with it.
The trial I had in mind while writing this piece was one that needed the utmost care in reporting, as it involved child abuse.
So, you can imagine my dismay when a national reporter turned up on day two, all guns blazing, criticising the lengths we had gone to to ensure the victim’s anonymity – as we are legally required to do so – by stating “We have braver lawyers than you do”.
However, when their article appeared the following day, it did not bear much difference to ours and tailed the line when it came to anonymity.
The same reporter had also been inquiring of the clerk, lawyers, even an interpreter, about the defendants’ jobs, immigration status, length of time in the country, etc. but with no luck. All reasonable questions, too.
What happened next, however, was one of those jaw-dropping moments.
Pictures are vital to telling a story. You can have hundreds of words, but photos and footage ‘sell’ it. Readers like to put a face to a name.
Such materials are sourced from a variety of places, whether that be police and CPS press teams, newspaper archives, social media or a photo taken outside the court itself.
But on this occasion, the reporter decided to ask the defendant directly – while in the dock at the back of the courtroom and during a talk with his barrister.
Having marched up to the defendant – in an area traditionally out of bounds to press and public – he held up his phone and, showing him an image he had found, demanded “Is this you?”
The lawyer quickly intervened, strongly objected to the journalist’s actions and reported him to the judge, who was said to have given him a stern telling off and warning.
The reporter did not return to cover the trial again. I suppose you have to admire his ballsy attitude but there has to be a time and a place.
And it wasn’t just the press member whose actions caused a stir.
In long-running trials, it is quite normal for jurors to be allowed to attend pre-arranged appointments. The trial will just be halted to accommodate it.
But it’s not a usual practice for that juror to walk into the courtroom and hand over a box of chocolates to the judge as a ‘Thank you’.
Nor is it usual for a juror to address a barrister in court and, in the presence of all parties involved, declare him to be “a folklore legend!”
Whatever was meant by that, no one knows. Although thereafter the barrister was often referred to by his fellow counsel in out-of-court sitting moments as “Legend”. Let’s face it, it could have been worse!
One thing he did become legendary for in that trial was his phone alarm ringing at the same time each day. Embarrassed and apologetic, he explained to the judge it was set for school pick-up time.
He soon remedied the situation by switching it off. Hopefully, his children weren’t left languishing at the school gates.
As for the chocolates, the judge politely informed the juror that they would be shared among the court staff.
And the trial? It ended with a host of guilty verdicts – certainly not a surprise or unexpected.
