Chapter 1

Make no pre-conceptions; I strongly and honestly believe that Raymond Rickett Scott is an innocent man. An unprecedented miscarriage of justice has occurred that has resulted in Mr Scott being sentenced to eight years imprisonment.

This book is not written to provide Mr Scott with even more propaganda or publicity, which he undoubtedly craves, but to unravel a ten year mystery of a stolen priceless artefact. The artefact in question was a Shakespeare first folio that was stolen from Durham University in 1998. Throughout this fascinating, intriguing and somewhat compelling tale (even by Shakespearean proportions), Mr Scott had been at the centre of an international manhunt, created FBI involvement, mixed in the company of a former bodyguard of Federial Castro and of coupe like all leading male characters in a Shakespearean plot falling in love with a beautiful woman.

So like all great Shakespearean plays whether a comedy, history or tragedy we reach the climax and in the instance Fatal Friday. Fatal Friday occurred on the 9th July 2010, I had just left Newcastle Crown Court the time 12.05 to go to the supermarket situated round the corner. The reason for my visit was to buy some headache tablets and a bottle of cold mineral water. The jury had been retired for approximately 2 hours and I presumed there was time. I remember this vividly because it was an extremely hot day; the sun was shining brightly and it was considerably hot and humid. The air was thin and my trousers and shirt were sticking to my skin, whether or not this was because of the weather, my nerves and anxiety, because of the intimate verdict or simply because I had a horrendous hangover remains to be seen.

I walked round the corner from the supermarket heading back to the court, when all of a sudden I felt a vibration in my pocket. It was my mobile phone; it was ringing, in all the tension that I was caught up in during the moment I had forgotten to remove it from silent. The vibrations got more intense and I reached down inside my jacket and answered my phone. It was Judith the solicitor in charge of the case. She told me calmly that there had been a tanony Could all parties return to court ten the jury had reached a verdict I quickly observed that Mr Scott was talking to a journalist who had been present everyday at the trial and told him the news. We then walked back into the court I seemed more nervous than him, he just seemed eager to be finally put out of his misery. Throughout the three and a half week trial I noticed the terrible strain which had been placed upon Mr Scott. I think at this moment he was glad that the whole ordeal was nearly over. It had been just over two years since Mr Scott had first came to provenance with the Shakespeare Folio and he had undergone meeting with his solicitors, conferences with his barristers, interviews with the police numerous court appearances both at Durham and Newcastle Crown Court and the trial had finally taken

its toll. He looked up at me his expression abject, there was no pleading not any more, hope was gone and his fate nearly sealed, all was not well.

On entering we were the searched which was standard procedure when entering the court and then waited for the lift. The lift ascended to the 4th floor, I wished Mr Scott good luck and I remember his saying Lee I know you are with me. This was to be the last conversation we would have before the verdict. We then got out of the lift and turned left to walk to the end of the corridor Court ten was the last court situated on the 4th floor.

Despise Mr Scott giving off a disheartened appearance I was optimistic and presuming that we would all be going for a victory lunch and drink, something that Mr Scott had joked about earlier. I had even borrowed some money off my mother until I got paid for such an occasion. Going for a drink with Mr Scott was not something knew I had done so previously during the trial on two separate occasions. I found him to be highly intelligent, charming, very kind and generous and enjoyable company nothing like what the press had labelled him after the trial in the newspapers.

Court ten approached and my confidence grew. I believed he would be acquitted of all charges, whether this was wishful thinking or sheer hopefulness only time would tell. We were then met outside court ten by Judith, Caroline the barrister in the case. Mr Scott was then led to the dock and we all resumed our positions Toby who was the defence QC in the case was all ready inside talking to the prosecution QC Mr Smith. A weird thought then entered my head as I joked to myself possibly to relieve the tension that both QC were having a bet on as the outcome, a little wager to make the outcome and all their hard work a little more interesting. This of cause was a silly idea but illustrates my mind at the time of the verdict.

The press box was full. It had been for most of the trial days as was the public gallery most of the regulars were present and also some students I assumed it was a school field trip because I remembered my visit when I was at Sunderland University. The opposition which consisting of the CPS, the police and the prosecution barristers had assembled to their positions. There was a knock on the door and an uneasy silence filtered across the court room. It was common practice to be silent when the Judge entered the court, but on previous occasions, there had been an unforgiving whisper of legal papers of last minute instructions being passed around. It was different this time, everyone glued to their seats waiting in anticipation for the verdict. Judge Lowden was about to enter and we all had to stand. This was not a dream after all and the end was so near, this was the critical point in Mr Scotts own Shakespeare Play. Was it about to be a tragedy? Only time would tell.

The sheer confidence and optimism that I had assembled previously had evaporated, evaporated into the cold chilled air that blew through the airing court room. Was Court ten about to converge from a graveyard into an arena of dejection and dismay? A cold shiver descended down my spine. My hangover which had been on my mine all morning, had disappeared. Well not disappeared exactly but seemed far less important.

I looked at my watch 12.13. The jury were led into the court by the bailiff and all sorts of thoughts were running uncontrollably through my mind. And then it dawned upon me; what would this be like for Mr Scott. Considerably worse one would presume. The dejected Mr Scott was then asked to stand. Expressionless, motionless but doomed to his destiny.

The clerk to the court asked in a crisp clear voice Could the foreman of the jury please stand? I noticed it was a male who had been sitting on the end of the front row. I suddenly realised Mr Scott had been correct. We had been discussing the previous day who we both thought would be the foreman of the jury. A dominant male suggested Mr Scott. Then a middle aged man stood up all the other males were younger and he was much older Mr Scott was right. My expectations levels grew. If Mr Scott was correct about the foreman of the jury, surely he could be right about his chances of success. It is fair to say that Mr Scott never actually discussed his chances of success with me in any significant detail. As far as I was concerned there was no need to as he had provided a plausible account and based on the evidence and the time I spent with him I believed him. I strongly and without any basis believed his account, there was no need to bring up such a personal matter and ask him frankly did you steal the Shakespeare folio? I understood Mr Scott was an innocent individual caught up in a police predicue towards him and the negative publicity they received in relation to not solving the case some ten years earlier. It was a case of any man will do; we need to solve this crime or the publics perception of us will change. It is worth noting that ten years had passed since this rare artefact had been stolen and the police had made no arrested in connection with the theft.

I remember thinking Judge Lowden had asked the jury for a unanimous verdict (all 12 members of the jury had to agree on the same decision). If I objectively believed Mr Scott, then surely one member of the twelve jurors would rule in our favour.

Mr Scott was charged with count 1 the theft of the Shakespeare Folio, count 2 handling stolen goods (the folio) which he admits was in his possession. This comes to light because the defence on the day of the trial decided not to challenge the authentication of the folio, i.e. The defence accepted that it was the one stolen from Durham University in 1998 and count 3 removing criminal property from England, Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland.

The foreman of the jury eagerly rose from his chair, his expression vague and unclear. There was no smirk or expression on his face, and he was giving nothing away. Time seemed to stand still at this point just like on X Factor when there seems to be an internal delay before the contestants are told whether they would advance to the next week before they are finally but out of there misery. Time stood still and there seemed to be an eternity before anyone next spoke.

My vivid mine slowly drifted uncontrollably to the only limited conversation I had with Mr Scott about his chances of success. This conversation occurred on Wednesday 7th July 2010. Judge Lowden had started summing up the evidence and was half way through by the time he finished court for the day. It was 4.20 and like so many times during the trial I walked up to Newcastle Central Station with Mr Scott. We had just left the confines of the court. I waited until Mr Scott had left said good bye to me and Judith and walked away from the court. I would then have my customary chat with Judith possibly about the days events at court. This had become usual practice possibly to allow Mr Scott to get ahead because it may have looked unorthodox, solicitors walking with clients.

I would talk possibly for five to ten minutes with Judith (to allow Mr Scott to get out of sight). Then I would say good bye to Judith and walk past the supermarket and up to the wooden stairs which provided access to a footpath. It wasnt much of a footpath in the traditional sense, more like a path which you had to clime stairs to reach a secluded area just outside the court. Most of the time it was deserted whilst walking up the stairs and trees provided an element of isolation and separation from the busy Newcastle city centre. At the top of these stairs appeared a busy main road and only a path on one side giving access to the subways.

I reached the top of the stairs and there was Mr Scott I presumed that he would walk to the off-licence and buy his habitual bottle or two of wine. Instead he told me that his mother was arriving earlier than normal at Durham Train Station and he had to go straight to the train station. I at this point fancied a drink somewhere but there seemed a little point in asking Mr Scott his mind was made up. He seemed jubilant, merry and happy and was constantly talking about the Judge Lowdens partial summing up; I could not get a word in edge ways. He outlined that if he was guilty of count 1 on the indictment, he could not be guilty of count 2. He seemed drunk at this time and stated it was either he was guilty of count 1 and not 2, guilty of count 2 and not count 1 or neither. This comes to light because under English and Welsh law you are either the thief or the handler; you cannot be both.

He talked in great detail and like with so many legal issues had a great understanding or the law and the rational behind it. However this was true about of lots of subjects Mr Scott talked about and I found him an intelligent person. He seemed excited about

Judge Lowdens summing up regarding count 2 the handling stolen goods charge. He told me that it may well confuse the jury all these different permutations and in particular that in order to be guilty of count 2 he must have handled the Shakespeare Folio in England or Wales.

Mr Scott openly admits that he handled the folio because he took it to Washington DC for authentication; this is of course outside the English and Welsh jurisdiction. Mr Scott seemed happy about this fact and if he handled the Folio in England, he would have had to have known or reasonably believed that the folio was stolen property. Mr Scott then laughed, all this confusion seemed to increase his chances of success. It was then that I noticed he had his expected 330ml orange lucozade bottle. This bottle became an iconic possession throughout the trial and the time I got to know Mr Scott. This bottle was a prominent feature in his make up much the same as his Tiffany sunglasses, Versace ring and fabulous dress sense and outfits.

To put it lightly Mr Scott portrayed to the media that he liked to drink expensive champagne in particular bottles of Dom Perignon and gave the impression he was an alcoholic. He was quoted by the press while giving an interview as saying Im more chatty when Ive got a drink inside me and not just any drink a Dom Perignon Rose 99 vintage a year good year. This was indeed the case; he was more talkative excepted in the case it was sparkling white wine and he was drinking it out of a lucozade bottle in the street. He was not talking to a journalist he was walking to the train station with me days away from discovering his fate. This was not the glamorous world Mr Scott had created. He was desperate and he was in a state of despair.

In actual fact Mr Scott had a drink problem and during our many meeting he would purchases bottles of sparkling wine and pour them in the lucozade bottle and drink it in the street. As I observed Mr Scott drinking from the bottle he cracked a joke about the standard of proof which Judge Lowden needed in criminal cases to find him guilty.

In his summing up so far Judge Lowden stated to the jury that they had to be sure, beyond all reasonable doubt that he committed the offences in question. Simply thinking that he had committed them was not enough. You (the jury) had to be sure, as sure as you can be to convict.

Mr Scott laughed and told me you suspect that I am not drinking lucozade but can you be sure, beyond all reasonable doubt that I am not drinking lucozade. He further added in a joking manner if this scenario was real and at court you (referring to me been the jury) would have to acquit as you are not sure as sure can be that he was not drinking lucozade. In actual fact Mr Scott, not for the first time had grasped the legal

terminology astoundingly. This definition of the legal term was accurate and he was right I would have to acquit in this case if this was real. I could not be sure (as sure could be) because I did not see Mr Scott fill up the lucozade bottle with sparkling wine, like on many previous occasions. I only suspected him of that offence based on what I knew during our time together. In accordance with Judge Lowdens definition, he was not guilty.

Not guilty. Theses words echoed in my head. These were the words I would long to hear in a few moments time. The images of Mr Scott chances flashed within my hungover head and slowly my expectation levels grew. We were well prepared and the prosecution case was weak even though Judge Lowden ruled that some of our compelling evidence was inadmissible. There was not enough to convict on theft and the handling was touch and go, 50-50 one could say. Then bang! I was snapped out of my dream, and the clerk of the court stated Have all the members of the jury reached a verdict upon which you are all agreed yes the foreman told the court in a firm deep clear voice. How do you find the defendant Raymond Rickett of count 1 that between the 10th day of December 1998 and the 18th day of December 1998, he stole a first folio belonging to Durham University?

Not guilty was the reply. Yes 1-0 to us. I envisaged thoughts of having something nice to eat in the Italian restaurant we attended and a nice bottle of Peroni, which was my tipple throughout the trial. All of us the barristers and the solicitors a reward for all the hard work achieved. I could just imagine Mr Scott with the Lucozade bottle in the company of legal professionals. Mr Scott never paid for any alcohol in the restaurants he simply took his own in and poured it into a lucozade bottle when the staffs were not looking. I visualized these images even through alcohol was the last think on my mind. I am simply not a big drinker even though I went out in the Newcastle area 4 times during the trial maybe this may have had something to do with the England games been on during the world cup and it was impossible to get home to watch them in the time frame after the court had finished or possibly because I wanted to get to know the real Mr Scott who is nothing like the media portray him.

I turned my head around and looked at Mr Scott in the dock at the back of the court standing there motionless, this kind generous man was about to receive the most impacting decision of this life in the next few seconds. No expression, then it dawned upon me; Mr Scott could not be guilty of counts 1 and 2, it was one or the other or neither. In my professional opinion there was no evidence to convict Mr Scott of count 1, however there was more evidence to convict of count 2 and hence this could well be a false alarm. Before I could evaluate the situation I scribbled roughly in my note book. 12.15 count 1 not guilty. I had not even finished writing this down when the clerk stated How do you find the defendant Raymond Rickett Scott of count 2, that between the 10th day of December 1998 and the 17th Day of July 2008 he dishonestly revived stolen goods namely a first folio belonging to Durham University, knowing or believing the same to be stolen goods?.

As the charge was read out I noticed that the 17 th of July 2008 was incorrect. Even if Mr Scott knew or believed the Shakespeare Folio was stolen, the evidence accepted by both the defence and Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) states quite clearly that Mr Scott arrived in Washington DC and checked into the Mayflower Renaissance Hotel on the 15th July 2008. Someone had made an error with the indictment; Mr Scott could not be guilty of this offence because he was outside the English and Welsh jurisdiction. Before I could get excited by this administration error or gather my thoughts the foreman shouted guilty as if craving

I wrote down 12.16 count 2 guilty on my note pad. The way the law works and Judge Lowdens summing up meant if Mr Scott was guilty of count 2 he was bound to be guilty of count 3 on the indictment. A cold shiver ran down my spine. Defeat. We had been defeated. All that work and effort seemed in vain, as we had lost. Sure enough Guilty was the verdict when the final count was read to the foreman by the clerk.

How do you find the defendant Raymond Rickett Scott of count 3 that between the 1 st day of January 2008 and the 17th day of June 2008, removed criminal property from England and Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland namely a Durham Shakespeare first folio knowing or suspecting it to constitute a persons benefit from criminal conduct?

My heart sank and a deep lump appeared and placed its self in the bottom of my throat. I looked back over my shoulder, the time 12.17. Two members of the court staff who worked in the cells mover closer to Mr Scott reminding me of vultures scooping towards their prey, eagerly anticipating their catch for the day.

I was speechless and bemused in a deep unfounding daze, and dont remember much in the intervening moments that followed. It felt like 15 months of hard work had been for nothing, an innocent man had been convicted largely because Judge Lowden had sided with the prosecution on every available opportunity, defeat and hopeless entered my body. It had started 15 months ago trying to work hard to impress the solicitors Judith and Denise; the more I looked at the evidence it seemed like a blameless man was becoming a scapegoat. A high profile crime which Northumbria police had no leads on for over ten years and now someone at to pay, as a price. The price was 8 years in jail.

Then it occurred to me I had these feeling. What must Mr Scott be feeling and thinking after all he was inevitably he was going to jail. I slowly sipped water from a plastic cup in the hollow court room. Then the reality kicked in Mr Scott was guilty of handling stolen goods and removing criminal property from England. For me personally my time

working at the law firm was over. This was my last day after the trial was over I was free, unlike Mr Scott. It was not that I wanted to leave, I was not free in that sense; if things were different I would of preferred to have stayed and furthered my career in law. I thought it may be possible to have a farewell drink with Mr Scott, sort of one for the road so to speak, and this could be made possible if he got bail pending sentence, something which had happened in a previous case some months back. I felt optimistic, even though he had been convicted of a serious crime, he had an elderly mother who he lived with and stated that she did not know nothing about the court proceeding. His mother was apparently under the impression the trial was in a civil court to determine whether or not the Shakespeare Folio was the one that was stolen from Durham or as Mr Scott believed at first, an unrecorded, unfound new copy of the folio. Mr Scott told me that he did not want to worry his mother with all the publicity that was created and surrounding Mr Scotts activities.

My mind wandered to the earlier case, a young man charged with rape had pleaded guilty on the day of the trial; he was all set to be remanded in custody waiting the expected sentence of imprisonment. The Judge in this case told the defendant that sentencing will take place in 4 weeks and he would unquestionably go to jail, but he bailed him pending sentence so that the defendant (at this point the defendant was a convicted rapist because of his guilty plea) could sort out his affairs. Mr Hedworth QC addressed the Judge on bail, but there was no joy. Mr Smith QC for the prosecution objected bail because of the serious nature of the offence and the likelihood the defendant would abscond. Discussions then continued between the Judge and Mr Hedworth QC regarding bail, the Judge looked unimpressed and appeared to be stringing Mr Hedworth QC along while he was speaking. Judge Lowden could have stopped Mr Hedworth QC at an early time in his speech; if bail was never a serious option, he was simply going through the motions. He wanted to be known as the Judge who remained the flamboyant Raymond Scott in custody.

If Mr Scott had been granted bail (bearing in mind the police had his passport), he had attended all his pervious court appearance without an invalid excuses and the fact he had stated categorically on numerous occasions he would not leave his elderly mother. A medical professional could of provided a pre-sentence report the following Monday and the court could have moved swiftly to sentence the very next day Tuesday. If he was remanded in custody pending sentence it would then take this professional 4 weeks to visit Mr Scott in Durham prison! The politicians say there are delays in health and the court system, it makes you wonder why!

They was no joy Mr Scott was remanded in custody by Judge Lowden who told him there will in due time, be an inevitable, substantial custodial sentence

The words inevitable, substantial custodial sentence felt like rubbing salt into wounds or like kicking a man when he was down. Mr Scott was no longer the prominent character, the lead in this tragedy; it was Judge Lowden who was the star of the show, and by his facial expression loving every minute of it. During the long case I carried out extensive research, or as Mr Scott called it, sedulous research on other rare antiquarian book thieves in England, who had conducted the same crimes and noted their sentences. Two to four years did not sound like it would fit into the scale. These words were undoubtedly not encouraging. The prison staff then escorted Mr Scott away to the cells, his expression abject. The play was over. There was an airy silence in the court which there had been for some time. This silence was normal when the Judge was speaking, only this time it felt different, defection and defect slowly summed up my mood as it transcended through the court. There was no raw emotion, no celebration, no cries of yes from either the opposition or the public galley or even the press. I think the press were just as disappointed as I was with Mr Scott being found guilty. He provided the press with entertainment and glamour. They portrayed his as a colourful, eccentric character who was an antique book seller. They branded him a Ferrari loving playboy, a conman with a fantasy lifestyle whose exiot fiance, 30 years his junior was from Havana Cuba. He wore expensive clothes and jewellery drank high-priced champagne and above all breathed some life into there ordinary dull lives. This was the world Mr Scott created and the press loved it, I got the impression the press loved Mr Scott and he, to some extent loved them. When the Folio was authenticated in Washington DC at an early stage Mr Scott wanted to go to the Washington Post to tell the world of this substantial discovery. He craved the publicity, his reason he wanted is 15 minutes of fame. This is the reason I believe he gave flamboyant interviews, attended court dressed as Che Guevara and quoted Shakespeare. All the worlds a stage and he wanted his 15 minutes of fame. He certainly achieved that. The press wanted Mr Scott to be acquitted so they could have a story they used him throughout the entire trial. As the CPS, police, prosecution barristers and press begin to dissemble from court ten thoughts surfaced through my occupied mind about an unfair justice system. This was a justice system that prides itself on being fair and accessible to the public. This was meant to be the English justice system, centuries old, that had given everyone justice since the drafting of the Magna Carta in the year 1215. My thoughts became more apparent and I asked myself how could a convicted rapist be allowed bail pending sentence and yet someone convicted of handling stolen goods could not? Many individuals handle stolen goods everyday of the week in pubs and clubs up and down the country and yes it is a crime but not in my eyes as severe, ruthless or horrendous as rape. It was inevitable, after all the judge said so that after sentence Mr Scott liability would cease to exist. He could of and should of however been allowed to say his goodbyes, especially to his mother. At the time, this illogic structural view of the English legal system had put me off law forever and more was yet to come after sentence. This kind of justice felt like the justice one would expect to receive in a communist state or an African republican state.

Miss Goodwin then asked if I would carry her boxes, files and books used during the trial down to the barristers room. I quickly realised the show most go on, the court would be needed for other matters later on that day and we had to collect our stuff. There were numerous files, boxes with files in, papers and documents and legal books belonging to the team. The barrister had one lot, the QC exactly the same and finally the solicitors had the same material. I then carried Miss Goodwins material and walked with our team towards the lift. We got in the squashed lift and exited at floor two, turned left, and walked to the barristers room. It was whilst I was walking that I noticed DI Callan laughing. My first opinion of DI Callan when I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him at Palace Green Library Durham, was that he was arrogant, obnoxious and generally a stereotypical police officer. He would do whatever it takes to get the result and to hell with justice or the consequences. Nobody really said much, and so I carried the boxes and placed them on a table in the barristers room. We then all got back in the lift and headed towards the ground floor. This is where the cells are situated in Newcastle Crown Court and all the defendants currently on remand were kept. These individuals had either come from Durham, been sentenced at court today or like in our case had been remanded in custody waiting for sentence. I have been many time before in the cells during my time working in the legal profession and was looking forward to see how Mr Scott was coping with the news. Then Judith informed me Le I think it is better if you wait outside there was nothing I could do I couldnt exactly just walk in the cells and see Mr Scott; I had to obey instructions and act in a professional manner. I felt used, dejected and gutted for the second time in 5 minutes. I felt this was taking the piss. My emotions were that strong, all I was good for was carrying heavy boxes, so to hell with the case. This was a case I had put so much effort into and now I was unable to see the conclusion. I had not done enough to convince them that I was worth employing full time, long term yet I should still have been allowed to see Mr Scott who became like an interesting friend during the trial. I felt that I had contributed a large amount of work to the case. Yes anyone could have written letters to Counsel and the client. Anyone could have attended all the previous court appearances at Durham and Newcastle Crown court and attended all the conferences and took notes and could have kept Judith up to date. That is were that was part of the job description ends the rest was done in my own time and boy it took many hours every week of research. Yes I was not told to carry out this work but it did not half help our case. I dont want to sound egotistical or big-headed, but after all, I had dedicated my life to the work and case over the last 15 months, a bit like Charles Darwin had devoted a significant period of his life to the theory of evolution and natural selection. I, after months of research had found and instructed all 3 defence experts, liaised with the expert, Durham University and The CPS to find a suitable time when all parties could be present to allow the examination to take place. Moreover, I filled in all the paper work so the legal Commission would fund the expert. I also discovered Simon William Jacques and his connections with book theft and Cuba (his relevance will become

apparent later). I assumed I had done a brilliant job on such a high profile case. I strongly believe if I had not made this case my Holy Grail and vocation in life, we as a firm of solicitors would have been very much unprepared for this case and this was my thanks and gratitude! It then occurred to me that Mr Scott had asked my to post a private personal letter for him should the worst occur. I left the court to post the letter carrying out my instruction to the last. My emotions and feelings were all over the place as I walked dizzily in the heat. I felt unwanted and gutted, and posted Mr Scotts letter in the nearest available post box. My attention that was alert turned to shock and I staged into the closest pub. I remembered Mr Scott joking the previous day saying that he was going to have a liquid lunch in this pub. I believed the pub was called eye of the Tyne or words to that affect. It was clean, classy providing an upmarket appearance and the staff were friendly and polite. Then it occurred to me that this was the pub I had been in the previous night. I imagined myself sitting on the comfortable, black leather sofa enjoying a drink on this pleasant hot day. Suddenly I snapped out of my day dream, Judith could be back at any moment from the cells and I would no doubt have to carry the solicitors bundle of files and boxes that had assembled during the trail. Brandy, I ordered without hesitation, giving the girl a crisp twenty pond note. For the shock? For the hair of the dog? Whatever the reason I had ordered a large warm brandy. This was wrong and unprofessional to drink on duty, but what the hell I thought the trial was over, I was technically finished work. Ill have a drink for Mr Scott. I then collected my change and drank the inviting shot of brandy. It did not even touch the sides. I had nothing to eat so far that morning and felt a warm glowing sensation burning away in my stomach. A ridiculous thought entered my head. If his was a real play, film or the like this is what the character Lee would have done in the fictional circumstances! I was playing out my role to the last; there had been times when I thought the whole case and the situations that arose were like a joke, a Shakespeare comedy. We were playing all well that ends well as oppose to a tragedy like Hamlet or Macbeth. I quickly put down my glass, left the pub and returned to the court. I sort of staggered across the road, my head banging, my body burning in the unbearable heat and the sheer shock of what I was just witnessed. I wanted to go home, I wanted some sleep. I checked my phone, Judith had not rang. I felt dizzy and sick, sick with a migrant which was starting to appear, so I clasped onto the steps outside of the court. I presumed that Judith was still not back from the cells so I decided to wait in the sun and ponder on the events that had just unfolded. I sat on the steps, puzzled and perplexed. All hope had gone. Then I looked up undid the top button on my shirt and loosened my silk tie. I then noticed the jury outside the court just a few yards from where I was sitting dejected. They were laughing and joking, carrying on as they did not have a care in the world; little did they know what an injustice they had caused. The theft charge count 1 on the indictment should never have been left to the jury to reach a verdict, like so many element of the case coincidence and fate spring to mind.

The only real evidence the prosecution had against Mr Scott was the fact that he like 100,000 people he lived in the surrounding 10 mile area from where the Shakespeare Folio was stolen. More prominently, yes, he was in possession of the stolen item some 10 years after it was stolen; it hardly makes him the thief, plus his account of provence was highly credible. I felt outraged in particular with the two jury members who seemed to enjoy the experience, not realising the importance of the task that they were there to undertake. I counted eagerly one, two, and three all the way until eleven they was one member of the jury missing. Having been looking at the jury, observing their reactions and expressions to the evidence as it unfolded for the last three and a half weeks, I quickly realised who was missing. It was a young girl her picture engraved in my mind, she had long blond hair and usually wore pink lipstick, she was missing, and she was not laughing or joking, at least not publicly. I wanted to go over and give the jury a peace of my mind, maybe if this was a film or a play that would be written in to the script, but this was real life. I wanted to tell them and explain the horrific injustice which they had caused through their decision. Then before I could do anything (it was never really a serious through that entered my head) it occurred to me that the jury had retired for 4 long hours split over the course of 2 days. It wasnt just a rash decision. There had carefully considered all the facts, details and evidence and guilty was they verdict for counts 2 and 3. Then it crossed my mind that this was a jury who were bored and had been dosing off during some parts of the evidence of the trial. They had been away from their normal lives, jobs and routine for a significant period of time. They were not the slightest bit interested in the Shakespeare Folio or the evidence. There were mothers and fathers who wanted to return to reality and see their children. There were young lads who wanted to no doubt watch the football world cup. It was a very hot day the football was about to kick off but the jury were locked away in a room. They could have just said we all dont want to be here lets just take the easy way out and we can all go home. Then I thought it would take much longer than 4 hours to evaluate all the evidence, it have taken me hours in the office to read letters and statements and take on board the relevant issues. The jury then dissembled and when they separate ways I suppose they must have felt like a family over the last few weeks a bond forming between them with one common interest the trial. They could only talk about it between themselves what ever they opinions, feeling and beliefs it had to be shared within the group. A family because they would have been eating together, sitting together all of the time with no one to talk to about the case but themselves. They were like people trapped in the big brother house, having spent all that time together destine to go back to they ordinary respectable lives and presumably never to see each other again. Bye, Buy, Take care and see you later the jury had gone and still no message from Judith Curry the time stood still in the sun-baked heat. The TV crew had come closer, and then I noticed they were doing an interview with DC Learner. He seemed

pleased and delighted giving the interview; after all he had got his man. He was the officer like DI Callan from Durham Constabulary attached to the major crime team. He was the officer although or lesser rank in charge of the case and considerably carried out the most work. He seemed fair and interested generally in the case and was pleasant and friendly all the times I met him. But as time progressed, he, like all policemen, tried undermining tactics to gain and seek an advantage for conviction. He was like Mr Scott in a way living it up for the cameras enjoying his 15 minutes of fame; this seemed to be the general feeling between lots of people during the case. He was smiling, laughing, joking and when I watched the interview later that night, gave a totally bias account of Mr Scotts character. He was not a conman! Whilst he was conducting the interview I remembered a conversation I had the week before with Mr Scott. We were talking about his unordiox, unique and flamboyant dress sense and he quoted Shakespeare from the play I believe As you like it all the worlds a stage (my Shakespeare had improved drastically over the previous 15 months and I was thinking if only my English teacher could see my now). Mr Scott went on to add we are all in costume the Judge in his ropes, the barristers in they silks and wigs, the solicitors in there pin-strip suits and the defendant Mr Scott in his costume. I looked down and noticed I was wearing a black pin-strip suit and his interpretation of an answer although (like his costume) unusual, was supported by facts and was to some extent correct. He further added that the police detectives were in they costume a C and A inexpensive, compared to the solicitors black suit. DC Learner was still giving the interview with a huge smile across his face, then I chuckled to myself you may well you may get promotion but at least I dont wear a C and A suit. My phone then rang. It was Judith she told me she had finished seeing Mr Scott and asked if I could help her carry our stuff back to her car. I said yes no problem and we walked backed to court ten and picked up the heavy boxes and made our way out of court and to Judith car which was situated in the car park just outside of the court. We exchanged pleasantries and Judith thanked me for all the hard work that I had contributed to the case. Judith agreed to text me when the date for Mr Scotts sentence was confirmed. I then said goodbye it was not like the other days during the trial it was final, a final goodbye. I felt sad but relieved at the same time (not that I did not enjoy working with Denise, Linda and Judith) it was time to move on. I sort of felt what I had witnessed the jury going through just a short time ago. I walked to the metro station and made my long extensive journey home. I reflected over my contribution over the last enjoyable 15 months, could I had found a better defence expert, could we have done things differently and did Mr Scott make the correct decision at trial concerning Mr Jacques. It was my stop to depart; I then left the metro and returned to my normal life my fascinating intriguing vocation in life was complete. My holy grail was over; it felt like a degree of permanency was attached to his. How wrong I was the colourful, flamboyant, unpredictable world, the story of Mr Raymond Rickett Scott had just begun.