Letters To My Daughter's Killer - [54]

Miss Dixon begins her summing-up with a reminder to the jury about the legal requirements of the trial. ‘In his opening remarks his Honourable Justice described to you that the burden of proof is the responsibility of the prosecution. That phrase “burden of proof” is wisely chosen, because burden it is. The prosecution must convince you, the members of the jury, that Jack Tennyson is guilty beyond all reasonable doubt. And I put it to you that my learned colleague has failed miserably to make such a case. He has presented you with a hotchpotch of so-called evidence, most of which cannot withstand serious examination. Please bear with me while I review the supposed evidence against my client and demonstrate to you the legion doubts it raises.’ She stops, turns away from the jury for a moment as if marshalling her thoughts, then goes on. ‘Let us begin with Mr Tennyson himself and his character as testified to by witnesses at this trial. Time and again we have heard him described as honourable, likeable, responsible and, most importantly of all, a loving husband and father. A man who cared for his small daughter and supported his wife in her chosen career. Even the witnesses for the prosecution, the deceased’s mother Ruth Sutton and the deceased’s closest friend Rebecca Thornton, were happy to see her marry Jack Tennyson. They have referred to him, and I quote, as “a lovely man” and “a good dad”.

‘Asked about his relationship with Lizzie Tennyson, we have heard that Jack Tennyson loved her, he adored her, he thought the world of her. The prosecution suggests that Mr Tennyson was violent towards his wife, but I would say to you that they have failed to offer robust proof of that contention. The only evidence they have given you is uncorroborated hearsay from one person. No one else, ever…’ she pauses for effect and raises a finger, ‘ever,’ she repeats, looking directly at the jury, ‘heard so much as a whisper about domestic violence from the deceased or any other source. Mrs Tennyson never spoke to her GP about this, she never sought help, she never mentioned it to another friend or family. She never sought medical treatment, she never had unexplained absences from work. The issue of domestic violence is a mirage. Did Mrs Tennyson tell Miss Thornton she’d been assaulted, or did Miss Thornton misunderstand? We will never know, but please remember that Miss Thornton saw no injuries, and when she feared that Mrs Tennyson might be at risk again, Mrs Tennyson clearly denied that she was. Why? Because it was not happening.’ She emphasizes each word. ‘Domestic violence was not, and never had been, an issue in this marriage. And I suggest that the thin and uncorroborated evidence of a single conversation back in 2005 is woefully inadequate.

‘So what of the events of that night? The prosecution would have you believe that a loving husband and father killed his wife in a sustained and brutal attack and then set about constructing a complicated false trail to divert suspicion. This implausible scenario is not backed up by significant evidence. Just consider this.’ Her voice is clear and full of serious intent, her back ramrod straight as she addresses the jury. ‘There were no fingerprints on the poker to connect Mr Tennyson with the weapon used. Much has been made of missing clothes, of missing shoes, but the absence of evidence is not evidence. The forensic expert himself admitted that there was no way of proving where the deposits in the ash tray from the stove originated. And proof is crucial.’ She smacks her fist on to her upturned palm.

‘Without proof, there has to be doubt. Reasonable doubt. We, the defence, do not have to account for the gaps in the prosecution case; that is their job. Ours is to assess and test the evidence.

‘What remains? The skin under the deceased’s nails? Jack Tennyson has explained how Mrs Tennyson stumbled earlier in the day, caught at his arm for balance and grazed his skin. A simple and honest explanation. The bloody fingerprints on the wall by the stairs and the bathroom door were made as Mr Tennyson raced upstairs to check the house for intruders and rescue his little girl. The blood in the shower may well have come from Mrs Tennyson herself, or even from her killer, who would have had almost two and a half hours in the house if they arrived shortly after Mr Tennyson left. Again, we the defence have no responsibility to answer those questions, but we can say that there are any number of explanations for finding blood in the shower, and the prosecution have failed resoundingly to prove a link between Mr Tennyson and that evidence. The footprint? Thousands of pairs of those shoes were sold last year in the Manchester area. It was the most popular style of the season. The prosecution have failed to prove beyond all reasonable doubt that the shoe that made that print belonged to or was worn by Mr Tennyson.’

I think of the receipt, how important it seemed. Wouldn’t common sense tell the jury that the footprint was from your trainers, that you’d burnt them?