Chapter 25 - Sentencing Day
They were all gathered in the court. The only person Susan could not see was Alan, but then perhaps he did not want his nose rubbed in the disappointment of failure, and he may still come yet, but she had a plan for that. Still Sandy was there. The judge ordered the court into session and said he was here to rule on the sentence to be given to Susan McDonald after finding her guilty of the murder of Vincent Marco Bassingham.
David and Anne had organised innumerable petitions of support, character references and statements from prison officials as to Susan’s behaviour and conduct as a model prisoner. Susan had agreed to them making submissions on her behalf. They said her life was there for all to see, the model school girl and University student, successful laboratory technician; a person who had made a misstep and admitted it and was now willing to pay for what she had done. But they and her barrister would now argue that compassion from the law was required, to allow her to have a life with the children which would soon be born.
Even the prosecution had indicated a willingness to be reasonable as they saw it. Rather than seeking that she spend the rest of her life in jail, never to be released, as would be a reasonable expectation for such a cold and callous murder, they had indicated that they would be happy with a sentence of a minimum of twenty five years, and a non-parole period of around twenty years, and the betting seemed to be that this was about right, even though the judge was noted for no nonsense sentencing.
Still, even the judge seemed to feel some sympathy for her, but in reality his hands were tied too, sentencing rules for crimes like this were pretty clear, with a not guilty plea it would be 30 years plus and with a guilty plea, remorse and good behaviour, release was possible in around twenty years. So people were saying that Susan would only be around 45 and still have life in front of her when released.
But Susan found herself unable to care.
Tonight her babies would be delivered. Then it would end. So whether a sentence was given of ten years, twenty or thirty, or it was deferred, it would matter little. They would have carried her away in a box and this awfulness would be over. She had longed for this day to come, the day when she could stop fighting the world and deceiving her friends and let it end. She had even worked out how to do it with minimal discomfort. She did not even feel really frightened at the prospect. It could not be that hard after everything else she had been through since she had met Mark. It was just one last test of character, one which she knew she could pass.
So she found herself only half listening as the various parties opened sentencing submissions. The prosecution was reasonably short and to the point, saying that in a case like this they would have normally sought life in jail, but in view of the guilty party’s early guilty plea, her apparent remorse and otherwise good character they would be prepared to agree to a sentence of 25-30 years. However despite sympathy for the plaintiff in some quarters of the community they could not go agree to anything below this, as a strong deterrent message was also required. Hence they demanded an absolute minimum non parole period of twenty years.
Then it came the turn for her side. Her legal representative called witness after witness. The judge was limiting the time for people to ensure he finished today, he said he normally would have limited this component to a couple hours but in view of the level of support for Susan, he was prepared to allow continuation until a maximum time of 2 pm, after which both parties would have a short time to sum up before he made his ruling. The case was to be concluded by 3 pm, the end of normal court sitting time.
The morning flowed away, a lunch recess was called. She could see it all drifting away from her side. After lunch it was only Anne and her parents still to be called. She knew this part would be really hard for her to watch, it had been hard enough to watch when David had come to the stand but it must just be borne and she would do her best to close her mind and emotions.
It was funny, normally without the crocodile stone in court she found herself very distant, like someone watching proceedings from on high. But, despite her disinterest of the first part of the day, somehow this final part of the trial had captured her attention. This was her life they were talking about, and slowly as they talked it started to flash before her eyes like a fast running movie camera, and with it she had this huge sense of loss. Was this all the life she would get to live? It seemed such a waste.
After lunch was much worse than she had imagined; Anne had to stop herself from crying on several occasions, her Mum was the same, and her father, even though without a tear shed, had been even more excruciating as she watched him put everything he had in to fight for his daughter. She even saw prosecution team members dab their eyes a couple times as they watched and listened, though their senior counsel sat stony faced.
Then it was closing submissions time for both sides. The argument of the prosecution only took five minutes, merely a quick reiteration of their previous points.
Her counsel was just standing up to speak. She saw an orderly pass him a sheet of paper, signalling he needed to give this urgent attention. He looked annoyed at the interruption. He was looking around as if waiting for something and then picked up the piece of paper as if to start reading it. She looked at Anne; her face was white with tension. She knew in an instant. The paper was a transcript of the texts but her barrister did not know their contents. He looked like he was about to start reading it but was still distracted as if waiting for something else to happen.
Susan felt for the syringe strapped to the inside of her upper leg. It was there, she fumbled as she pulled it clear and then pulled off the needle cap. She was hidden from sight where she sat on her own. Her prison warder sat behind her. She only needed another two or three seconds to plunge it into her thigh and inject it. She gave a quick glance down yes it was all in place and ready.
Once that was done she would let out a big scream to draw all the attention to herself and clutch her belly, saying her contractions had come. She looked up and took a deep breath to steel herself for the last roll of the dice.
As she looked up, the back court door was opened and two people walked in, one she recognised as Sergeant Alan Richards. Why had he suddenly arrived so late? Of course he had come for the same purpose as Susan, so nothing was changed there.
She turned her eyes to the other man. It was an almost skeleton of a man, so thin and emaciated, and he hobbled with a severe limp. His hair was long, ragged, unwashed, and his beard was long and straggly. His clothes were clean but hung on him like bags. There was something fierce and uncompromising in his face and eyes.
At first Susan could not comprehend what it meant.
Then recognition came. The eyes turned towards hers and looked at her with knowledge and penetrating intensity, and she knew. This walking skeleton was Vic, returned from the dead, yet so obviously alive. She put her hand to her mouth and let out a muffled gasp. The syringe fell from her hand to the floor. Susan spoke his name, loudly and clearly so all could hear her, “Vic, is it you?”.
Vic raised his hand in acknowledgment and gave her a trademark grin. She wanted to run to him and hold him but she was restrained by a handcuff which attached her left hand to the rail.
Alan glanced at her and nodded but then immediately turned his attention to the bench.
“Your honour, I am sorry to interrupt. I am not normally in the habit of barging into a court in session. But something really significant has happened in this case. “I have only obtained information today which I consider has a vital bearing on this case and any sentence you impose. I ask that you order a short recess to allow me to inform your honour of it on a one to one basis.”
She saw the prosecution barrister start to rise to object, her side seemed less surprised but then perhaps they had known something. Alan walked over and spoke briefly to the prosecution counsel. This barrister nodded then said, “Your Honour I would agree to a short recess as I accept this is relevant and of great importance.”
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The judge then looked at the defence barrister and he nodded his assent. So the judge ordered a fifteen minute adjournment and he, Alan and the two senior counsels walked out. Everyone else stood there dumbfounded.
Part 2 : Escape from an Empty Place