CHAPTERS AND BOOKS TO THE FORE ON A LITERARY-TH EMED DAY IN COURT 12

TURNING towards the Ireland and Ulster team-mates and their two friends sitting in the glass dock, the defence barrister said to the jury that it ‘doesn’t look great’.

Extending his arm towards Paddy Jackson, Stuart Olding, Blane McIlroy and Rory Harrison – lined up side-by-side in the thick-glasspanelled dock in courtroom 12 of Belfast Crown Court – Brendan Kelly QC appeared to invite the jury to look at the four men.

The defence barrister for Paddy Jackson, turning to face the four defendants, said: ‘When you look over at the dock and see the four men it doesn’t look great, does it?’

Spinning back around to the jury, he warned them they must not judge on that but on the evidence they have heard.

The jury, on the final day of the seventh week of the lengthy trial, didn’t appear to take their eyes off the barrister, in his black cloak and wig, with only one appearing to break their gaze to glance over towards the four defendants.

Paddy Jackson, who had swapped his often more casual attire for a smart suit and blue shirt, and Mr Olding, wearing a navy suit, along with their two pals, remained sitting upright, facing forward.

Mr Kelly was starting where he left off yesterday on chapter seven of a book he had apparently written on the trial with his closing statement consisting of no less than 15 chapters in total.

Facing the jury, who have sat in the wood-panelled area for a long and wearying seven weeks, Mr Kelly told them: ‘New day, same theme. I finished chapter six, headed Frozen.

‘Chapter seven,’ he said, setting the scene, would focus on the female party-goer Dara Florence, who walked in as Mr Jackson and Mr Olding were allegedly raping the young woman at the centre of this trial.

Removing his glasses and looking intently at the jurors he said: ‘When people commit crime they tend to hide, they tend to conceal what they did because they don’t want to get caught.

‘What did these two violent rapists do when she walked in? They invited her to join in,’ he told the hushed courtroom.

In contrast to the grey, cold, damp day in Belfast, the room in Laganside courthouse was clammy under the glaring bright lights.

The public gallery was packed to capacity yet again, with family and friends of the defendants sitting among members of the public and media.

Judge Patricia Smyth, in her black cloak, broken up with dashes of purple and red, studiously took notes throughout the defence’s closing argument.

‘Chapter 10: Petrified,’ Mr Kelly announced to the court, before appearing to fluff his lines as he

stumbled over a word.

The barrister, who struggled to start the sentence several times, appeared slightly flustered before explaining that he ‘couldn’t concentrate as someone was typing beside him’.

The judge, looking down from the top of the courtroom asked him if he wanted to take a break but he replied immediately, ‘No, I would just ask for the typing to stop’ before regaining his composure and continuing with his closing argument.

Mr Kelly told the full-to-capacity court that having completed the 15 chapters there was an extra one, on ‘the defendant himself’.

‘He is not looking for special treatment. Never,’ he thundered in the silent courtroom.

Removing his glasses and gesturing to the jury said: ‘You, the jury, want to know as much about him as possible, not just what he did on the 27th and 28th of June.’

Nearing the end of his four-hour closing argument, Mr Kelly, referring to Mr Jackson’s decision to take the stand, told the courtroom that every defendant who gives evidence in a trial speaks about the job they have.

Raising his voice so it echoed around the court, Mr Kelly said: ‘So he plays for Ireland? So what?

‘Don’t think he’s trying to play the rugby card.’