Prologue
Central Criminal Court of England and Wales
London, England
23 February, 2018
Cassie stared at the oak-paneled wall opposite her, counting each line that ran with the grain. A barrister passed in front of her, his black robes billowing behind him. He interrupted her count and she had to start all over again. Not that it mattered; it was a good distraction from what she was about to embark on. A solicitor sat next to her, reading notes from a manila folder, occasionally shuffling the papers. It was the only sound as the barrister's footsteps echoed down the empty hallway and eventually disappeared.
The wooden bench was hard against her legs and it creaked slightly when the solicitor shifted his weight. She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smoothing down the rest of it and checking the tight bun it had been styled into. She didn't feel like herself, but the Crown barristers told her that her appearance mattered. The purer she could look, the better. She adjusted the collar of her navy blue dress, tugging at it slightly at the base of her neck. The top button was rubbing against her skin and leaving a rash.
The door to the court room creaked open and a man in a police uniform stepped out. He gestured to the solicitor and Cassie's heart dropped from her throat down into her stomach.
"They're ready for you," he said, sliding his folder back into a briefcase and standing.
The bench creaked again as the solicitor heaved himself up and the noise shot through the otherwise-silent corridor, making her flinch. He offered her a hand and she stood on quivering legs, smoothing down her dress.
"You ready?" the solicitor asked.
No. No, I'm not fucking ready, Maurice. What type of fucking question is that?! Cassie thought to herself.
After a deep breath she nodded. She wobbled slightly on her high heels and Maurice steadied her elbow.
"Just answer the questions," he said softly as he picked up his briefcase. "When they play the audio, try to focus on a point on the floor. I don't think Defense has much to use against you, so it should be pretty painless."
Cassie nodded and put one foot in front of the other, staring down at the grey marble floor. The police officer held the door for them and Maurice led her into the court room.
"The Crown calls Cassandra Delphine Adler, Your Honor," the lead Crown barrister said, his voice booming through the two-story room.
Maurice gestured for her to walk ahead of him. Cassie passed a pool of reporters and blinked rapidly to force tears down. There were hushed murmurs from the public gallery looking down from the second level. She felt dozens of eyes boring into her skull as she took each step slowly. If the trial was in America, it would surely have been recorded by cameras. At least there was that small mercy now. The court usher met her in front of the press pool and led her across the court room to the witness stand.
She kept her eyes lowered to the floor and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from turning tail and legging it from the room. The pain reminded her of her purpose. The usher handed her a laminated card as she stepped carefully up onto a small wooden platform. An office chair was pushed to the corner to allow space for standing and a small barrier wall blocked her lower half from view. The floor creaked slightly as she turned toward the rest of the room.
"Ms. Adler, please read what is printed on the card," the usher said, facing her.
She swallowed. Her mouth felt like it was coated in cotton wool. She glanced at the judge, up on his dais behind a large wooden desk.
"I do solemnly and sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," she read in a halting voice.
"The witness has been sworn in," the usher said before turning in his heel and walking to a seat across the court room.
The fluorescent lights above cast everything and everyone in a garish brightness. She looked out at the room full of eyes staring back at her and suddenly she realized this must be what caged animals feel like. Her heart picked up speed and she bit her tongue to stay focused.
"Ms. Adler, since you will be testifying for most of the afternoon, you may take a seat if you wish," the judge said, looking at her over top of his black spectacles.
Cassie felt around behind her blindly for a moment and moved the chair into place. It squeaked slightly when she sat down. Though no one could see, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, leaving her hands to rest in her lap.
"Mr. Yates, you may proceed," the judge said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his black-robed chest.
Peter Yates, lead counsel for the Crown, was a tall, lean man with nut brown hair cropped close to his skull, but you wouldn't have been able to tell from his black robe and the white powdered wig that sat upon his head. He stood and brought his hands in front of him, clasping them together as he faced her from behind a long wooden table.
"Ms. Adler, could you please introduce yourself to the court, tell us what you do for a living, and where you currently reside," Peter asked. His voice echoed off the high ceiling as it came out of several speakers positioned around the room.
Cassie glanced across the court room and saw the jury on the opposite wall, sitting on a tiered platform. Then her eyes settled on him. The one they told her was guilty. The one who did it. He looked confident, sitting in the glass-walled dock. His eyes flitted from place to place before settling on hers. She felt her heart skip a beat as his gaze penetrated into her.
"Ms. Adler?" Peter prompted.
Cassie blinked and inhaled sharply, refocusing her attention on Peter. "Yes. Sorry. I'm Cassie Adler. I am an author and I currently reside in London."
"And what was your relationship to William Albright?" he asked.
She cleared her throat and placed her hands, palm down, on the desk in front of her, hoping the cool hard surface would ground her. "I - we were married," she stammered. "I was his wife."
"How long were you married?" Peter asked. He consulted a sheet of notes in front of him.
She could see the defense barrister writing down notes. "Uh, we got married on October 16, 2016. So maybe two months?"
"How long had you been together before you got married?" he asked.
"I met him when I was twenty. We started dating soon after that. Maybe eighteen months or so?" she said, trying to dig through her memories to locate the dates.
"And how old are you now?"
"Uh, I'm twenty-three," she answered.
He glanced down at his notes. "You have a son, correct? Finn?"
Cassie nodded. "Yes." There was a small flurry of activity as the members of the press jumped to take notes. Her child had gotten just as much press as she did lately, it seemed.
"How old is he?"
"Six months old," she answered.
"And Mr. Albright is his father, yes?"
Again, she nodded. "Yes, he is." She corrected herself. "Was - is." She still wasn't used to talking about him in the past tense. "Sorry," she said softly.
"Can you describe to the court the manner in which you came to meet Mr. Albright?" he asked.
"I met him at a fundraiser event we were both attending for a domestic violence charity," she replied. "I was there because I had submitted several pieces to an auction the charity was running. Will was there as a guest."
The memory of that night and the butterflies she felt in her stomach flickered briefly in her mind's eye. She could taste the champagne on her lips if she concentrated hard enough.
"And at what point did you and Mr. Albright become more than just acquaintances?"
She could remember their first kiss like it was yesterday. It was raining and the tops of her new boots had gotten drenched as they stood on the front stoop of her building.
"He asked me out that night. I'd say it was a week afterwards that he told me he was serious about me," she recalled.
"He moved quickly," Peter remarked with a slight grin. "Did you and Mr. Albright ever break up and reconcile over the course of your relationship?"
Cassie shook her head. "No. Not once."
"Ms. Adler, could you describe what your relationship with Mr. Albright was like? Were you happy?" he asked.
"Yes. Very happy." A twinge of pain tore at her heart. "He called me his guiding l-light," she said, her voice catching at the last word. She hadn't told anyone but her closest friends and family that.
"Did Mr. Adler's occupation impact your relationship at all?" Peter asked.
"No, not really," she answered. "I wasn't used to the press attention, but I sort of kept my head down and it was alright for the most part."
"Have you ever met the Defendant, Ms. Adler?" he asked, gesturing to the dock.
"No. I've never met him," she replied.
"Did Mr. Albright ever mention anything about the Defendant, or say his name?" Peter asked.
"N-no. Nothing."
"Cassie - may I call you Cassie?" he asked, softening his tone.
"Yes," she nodded.
"Cassie, can you please tell us what you were doing on Friday, the twenty-first of December, twenty-eighteen?" Peter asked.
She remembered. She had replayed that day a million and one times in her head. Every single second stood out to her.
She took a deep breath. "Yes. I had a doctor appointment at eleven, so I had left the house at ten-thirty." She could feel the cold bite of the December air like it was yesterday. "Will was already at the football grounds when I left."
"When you say 'football grounds', do you mean the Aon Training Complex in Carrington?" he interrupted her.
"Yes, sorry. He'd gone earlier that morning at eight-thirty for a nine-thirty team practice," she answered. He gestured for her to continue. "I found out I was pregnant at the doctor. I guess they did a standard test and it came back positive. I had some shopping to do, so I stopped at the shops on the way home."
"And when you say 'home' are you referring to the house you shared with Mr. Albright at 67 Holbrooke Lane in Manchester?"
"Yes," she replied.
"What time did you reach your home?"
Cassie paused, bracing herself for the direction things were taking. In trial prep, this had always been the route Peter had taken.
"About three in the afternoon. I stopped to refill with petrol after the shops," she said.
"When you arrived home, what happened?" Peter asked slowly.
The whole court room knew what had happened. Hell, the whole world knew what had happened. Will was an internationally known football player in the Premier League on one of the most recognized teams. Everyone who cared knew. Still, they were making her recount what she found.
"The front door was open," she said softly. "We only used the front door because it was closer to the cars." She could see the red brick terrace house on the end with the black iron gate around the front garden so clearly, just behind her eyes. "I thought the wind blew it open because I'd forgotten to shut it tightly when I left. That door always had a hard time shutting properly."
"What did you see when you approached the house from your car?" he asked.
Here we go, she thought.
"I saw drops of blood on the stone pathway," she replied, swallowing thickly. "They led into the house. There was a handprint on the front door. The door was painted white, so it stood out."
The terror she felt as she walked up to the house still haunted her each night. It took three sleeping pills just to dull the memory enough so she could close her eyes.
"Did you go inside?" Peter prompted.
"Yes," she felt her throat tighten. Her mouth got drier and she reached for the glass of water in front of her. "The trail of blood got bigger. I saw another hand print. And drag marks." The blood wasn't yet dried and she got it on her new sneakers. Her footprints had mingled with the blood trail.
"Where did the blood trail from the front door lead?"
Cassie swallowed and sighed slowly, attempting to gather herself once more. "I followed it into the front room. That's where I found him." Her attempt had been unsuccessful. "On the floor, leaning back against the sofa." Her voice cracked and tears stung the corners of her eyes. She took a shaky sip of water, trying to keep the tears at bay.
The room was silent. You could have heard a pin drop. A man cleared his throat in the gallery and Cassie looked up from the floor. She saw the Defendant's eyes on her from across the room, peering through the dock's glass walls. His unblinking gaze made her feel like he was looking through her skin, right at her veins and muscles. She felt naked in the worst way.
"And what did you do when you found him? Did you go up to him?" Peter asked. "Was he breathing?"
She nodded and sniffled as her nose began to run. She took a tissue from the box provided. "I went up to him and saw that he had one of our blankets from the sofa pressed against his abdomen. It was soaked through with blood. He had his mobile next to him. It was covered in blood." She swallowed. "He was breathing, but barely."
"Your honor, may we be heard?" Peter asked, looking to the judge.
"Yes," the judge said, shifting forward in his seat as both barristers approached the bench.
The three engaged in an animated, but quiet discussion whilst she looked around the courtroom as much as she dared. The gallery on the second level was packed. Several of the people wore Manchester United jerseys and merchandise. There were at least two dozen people in the press pool, and a court room photographer sitting right at the end. The jury was across the room and several of them avoided eye contact when her eyes ghosted over their faces.
"You may proceed, Mr. Yates," the judge said, drawing Cassie's attention back.
Peter resumed his position behind the prosecution table as the Defendant's barrister took his place. He gave her a small nod and her heart sank. They were really going to make her listen to it, make her relive it. Tears stung her eyes once more and her lips began to tremble.
"Did you phone for help?" Peter asked, sighing. Even his voice was getting tight. He knew what was coming next.
"Y-yes," she cleared her throat. A tear fell down her face and she swiped it away. "I phoned them on my mobile."
"Your Honor, the Prosecution would like to play Crown 278a in its entirety," Peter said, looking at his notes on the table in front of him.
Cassie saw the press pool sit up in their seats, paying more attention. They knew what was coming, too. There was a slight hum as the speakers in the court room switched feeds.
"The Crown would like to warn the jury that this audio is fairly graphic in nature," he continued.
"999 Emergency Service, what is the nature of your call?" A male voice came across the speakers.
"My husband, he's hurt," Cassie's voice, filled with panic, echoed in the room. "He's - fuck, there's so much blood!"
"Ma'am, ma'am, what's your name?" he asked. A routine question.
"It's - Will, please don't - Will wake up, please!"
"Ma'am, your name and location, please?"
Cassie felt her heart break. If she saw it ripped from her chest and stomped on then and there in the court room, she'd have believed it were true.
"Cassie Adler. We're at 67 Holbrooke Lane in Manchester," her voice got more frantic. "Oh God, Will, no. Please no!"
"Alright, Cassie? Is Will breathing?"
"Yes? I - I don't know! Oh my God, there's so much blood!"
She rubbed the pads of her fingers together as she listened, as if she could still feel the blood on them, thick, warm, and sticky. It had taken two days to clean the blood from under her finger nails. It took longer for her to get rid of the tight, sticky feeling and the metallic smell.
"Cassie, can you check for a pulse, please? Do you know how to check for a pulse?" The man had done his best, but it was a losing game.
"Will? No, please, please don't," she was openly sobbing now. "Please, no."
There were several seconds of her sobbing before the audio cut off. The court room was silent. Peter cleared his throat.
"Cassie, do you recognize the female voice in that clip?" he asked softly.
Blinking back tears, she nodded. "Yes," she sniffled. "Its my voice. That's the 999 call I made after I f-found Will."
"If it please the Court, the Crown would like to introduce Crown 278a into evidence in its entirety," Peter said, clearing his throat again.
"Crown 278a entered into evidence, it is so ordered," the judge said.
Cassie reached for another tissue, leaving the used one in front of her. The button on the top of her dress was rubbing again and she felt like the collar was tightening around her throat.
"Cassie, what happened with Will while you waited for help to arrive?" Peter asked.
Another tear fell down her cheek. She heard the court photographer's camera clicking. "He...he died. I - he went limp and died."
"Did emergency services arrive?" he asked.
"Yes, the police. Three minutes later." It had been the longest three minutes of her life. They may as well have been three eternities. Three lifetimes passed as she sat next to his limp body, sobbing.
"How do you know it was three minutes?"
"I could see the time on Will's watch," she replied.
"When the police came, what happened next?" he asked.
Cassie inhaled slowly, closing her eyes to focus on the moments following Will's death. "I - I don't...I can't...remember." She'd entered into shock immediately following and had been unresponsive for days. She still couldn't remember what happened, over a year later.
"Cassie, I'm going to show you some photos - and they may be difficult to look at," he started.
Her heart stopped and panic set in. She dug her finger nails into her sweaty palms.
"The Crown would like display Crown 1657 through Crown 1660 for the Witness, please," he stated.
She kept her gaze directed at the desk in front of her, avoiding the screen on top of it as it lit up. Her fingers found the hem of her dress and began to twist it.
"Cassie, if you could look at the photo on your screen, do you know what this is a photo of?" he asked.
She sighed heavily and forced herself to look at the screen, tears springing instantly to her eyes. "Yes. That's the front door of our house." The bloody handprint stood out against the clean white wood.
"And this photo? Do you know what its of?" Peter asked.
The image changed and she inhaled sharply, blinking through her tears. "That was the entryway to our house at the front. I - uh - I stepped in some b-blood as I walked in and my shoes left footprints."
The image changed again. "And this photo?"
She glanced down and bit her bottom lip. "Yes. That's the blanket Will had on him. Its covered in blood," she swallowed. The photo showed the folded blanket, soaked through with blood, sitting on the carpet of their front room.
"And finally, do you recognize the contents of this...photo?" he asked slowly.
She knew what was in front of her but she couldn't bring herself to look. "Do I have to look?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she clenched her eyes shut.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Adler. Yes, you do," the judge replied.
She took a slow, steadying breath and opened her eyes. Exhaling slowly, she lowered her eyes to look at the image of Will in a blood-soaked shirt laying in a pool of dark red on the carpeted floor. His head had fallen to the side and his eyes stared blankly in front of him. His arms, covered in blood, lay at his sides. The blanket had slid off his body revealing a pool of thick, congealed blood over the wound in his abdomen.
"That's Will. How I found him," she winced.
"If it please the Court, the Crown would like to introduce Crown 1657 through 1660 into evidence," Peter said. "We would also like to ask that all four images be published, with the exception of Crown 1660. We would like that image to only be published to the jury due to its graphic nature."
"As ordered," the judge said.
Cassie could see the jury shift uncomfortably in their seats as the images were published to the screens in front of them. She could tell when they got to the last one because they flinched and looked away.
"Thank you, Cassie. No further questions, Your Honor," Peter said, sitting down.
"Your witness Mr. Lawrence," the judge said, looking at the defense barrister.
Thomas Lawrence stood, reviewing his notes. "Thank you, Your Honor," he started before looking over at Cassie. "Ms. Adler, I want to offer my deepest condolences for your loss and the horrific experience you went through. I'd like to ask the Court to offer you a break, should you need one."
"Ms. Adler, would you like a moment?" the judge asked.
She knew what Lawrence's tactics were. Peter had told her that he'd do anything possible to make himself - and his client, by default - look better. Offering the grieving widow a chance to compose herself before ripping her testimony apart was a pretty good way to earn a jury's favor.
"No. I'd like to continue," she responded, inhaling deeply and wiping her nose.
"Mr. Lawrence, you may proceed," the judge told him, nodding.
"Ms. Adler, could you remind the court of your profession again?" he asked.
"I'm a writer," she said.
"How many works have you published to date?" he asked.
"To date? Six novels," she replied.
"And how old were you when your first work was published?"
"Sixteen," she answered.
"Was it a success?" he asked.
"I think so. It became a best seller," she sniffled, wiping her nose again. She focused on folding the tissue into neat squares.
"What about your next novel, when was that published?"
"The following year, when I was seventeen," she answered.
"You're not a citizen of the United Kingdom, are you?" he asked, his speed changing the mood in the room.
"No, I'm not. I was born in America. I came to Manchester to attend university when I was eighteen," she said.
"Did you complete a degree course?"
"I hold an undergraduate degree in English Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Manchester," Cassie said, a small wave of pride sweeping through her.
"Congratulations. That's quite an accomplishment, given the circumstances," he said, looking at his notes. "In your testimony earlier, you said you were twenty years old when you met Mr. Albright, correct?"
"Yes. I met him on my twentieth birthday," she recalled. "The charity event was on my birthday."
"When you met Mr. Albright, did you know who he was?" Lawrence asked. "Did you know that he was a forward for Manchester United Football Club?"
"Um...no. I didn't. I didn't really follow football," she replied growing confused with his line of questioning.
"Did you know how much money he was worth?"
"No."
"At the time of your meeting, William Albright was the most expensive player at Manchester United with a contract worth over £50 million. You didn't know that?" he asked.
"No," she repeated.
"At the time of his death, Mr. Albright had signed another three-year contract with Manchester United Football Club for another £50 million. Did you know that?"
Cassie saw Peter look up from his notes, listening intently.
"Yes. I did know that. We were discussing buying a bigger house," Cassie said.
"Ms. Adler, did Mr. Albright have a will?" Mr. Lawrence asked.
Peter stood. "Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?"
"May we approach?" Mr. Lawrence asked.
"Yes," the judge replied.
Cassie knew what he was getting at now. She'd seen the papers following Will's death and the headlines suggesting she had used their relationship to grow her career or that she was only with him for his money.
He's trying to discredit you and make the jury doubt you, she realized. He can't prove his client is innocent, so he's just going to suggest it was someone else.
Her stomach began to roll and she swallowed.
"You may continue, Mr. Lawrence, but do bear in mind that Ms. Adler is not on trial here," the judge intoned as the two men took their respective places again. "I will stop you should I feel you are verging too far from the subject."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Mr. Lawrence replied. He cleared his throat. "Ms. Adler, how much money did your son, Finn, inherit from his father upon his passing?"
Cassie blinked. "I - I don't know. Will stipulated that any inheritance enter a trust until a child of his was eighteen years old. If you're asking whether or not I have control of it, the answer is no. I do not," she said, heading him off with the next logical question.
"Ms. Adler, when you met Mr. Albright, you had only released four books, correct?" he asked.
"Y-yes. But I hardly think that's relevant," she replied.
"Isn't it true that you released a new book, Solid 6, three weeks before Mr. Albright's death?"
"Yes," she answered. "But as you've probably seen, I've not released anything since."
"Your publisher had scheduled a press tour that was due to start in the first week of January, did they not?"
"Objection, Your Honor," Peter called, standing. "This is not relevant and Defense is trying to distract the jury."
"Sustained. Mr. Lawrence, the Court strongly suggests that you move on from this line of questioning," the judge said, peering down at the other barrister.
Mr. Lawrence looked at his notes and then turned around to have a hushed conversation with the solicitor at the table behind him. Several seconds later, he looked back at Cassie.
"No further questions, Your Honor," he said, sitting down.
"Mr. Yates, you may take over," the judge ordered.
Peter stood up. "Thank you, Your Honor." He looked at Cassie. "Cassie, did you love your husband?"
She felt the tears return. "Yes. Of course I did."
"How has his death effected you?" Peter asked.
"I - I had to do everything alone. I still do," she sighed. "My son, he will never know his father." Tears filled her eyes. "Every child should know their father. And Finn won't get that chance."
"Thank you for your time, Ms. Adler. No further questions, Your Honor," Peter said.
"Ms. Adler, you are free to remain in the court room or you may go. Thank you for your time," the judge said.
Cassie nodded and stood, smoothing the front of her dress. The usher escorted her across the court room to where Maurice waited by the door. She could feel the press following her with their eyes as she walked quickly. The contents of her stomach sat precariously on the edge.
Keep it together, she thought. Just get to the toilet.
The police officer opened the door for her and Maurice followed her into the hallway. He must have seen the expression on her face because he led her to the toilets down the hall. Cassie rushed inside, barely making it to a stall before the full contents of her stomach came up. She retched for several seconds, tears running down her face from the effort. Her nose began to run and she shuddered, clutching the sides of the toilet. The contents of her stomach were mostly bile since she hadn't eaten much of anything that morning. She'd been too nervous.
The audio clip replayed in her mind and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sound. Her hand shook as she flushed. She could feel the attack coming on. She knew one would come today. It would have been an act of God if she managed to get through the day without one.
"No, no, please no," she whimpered, sinking down on the floor.
She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them up to her chest tightly. She gasped for air frantically, digging her finger nails into her palms. This was her life now. There was no going back.
***
BBC NEWS UPDATE
The trial of Crown vs. Samuelson proceeded today in its fourth day of witness testimony. The Crown called Will Albright's widow, Cassie Adler, to testify. The jury heard the audio recording of the emergency mobile call Ms. Adler made upon finding her husband's body as well as testimony from Ms. Adler about her relationship with Mr. Albright.
Defense barrister Thomas Lawrence asked Ms. Adler about her career, seemingly suggesting that Ms. Adler used Mr. Albright to boost it. His Honor Judge Thompson steered Mr. Lawrence away from that line of questioning upon objection from the Crown.
Yesterday, the jury heard audio of a call from Mr. Albright's mobile, later confirmed to be Mr. Albright himself, phoning for help after being stabbed. Out of respect for the deceased, the court room was cleared during the presentation of the audio. When asked about this decision, Mr. Yates explained:
"The details in this case are particularly harrowing. The jury has already been presented with photographic evidence of the crime scene and has heard graphic descriptions of the injuries Mr. Albright received at the hands of the Defendant. The Crown does not wish to put them under any undue stress. Though it was necessary to present this evidence to the jury, the Crown felt it was inappropriate for the public memory of a high profile victim to include his last moments. Additionally, the Crown wishes to minimize the emotional toll this case will take on Ms. Adler, her son, and Mr. Albright's family."
Members of the public were present during the trial. Eddie Franklin, who was in the gallery today, said, "It was just so hard to watch. That poor girl - she's so young - she had to sit through all of that. They made her look at photos of the crime scene and I can't imagine how hard that was for her to do."
Tyler Coolidge, a Manchester United fan who was also in the gallery today added: "Its such a horrible situation, isn't it? I have so much respect for Cassie Adler. She handled herself so well and was very mature. I don't think I could have handled all that at twenty-three."
Walter Samuelson stands accused of the murder of Manchester United forward Will Albright on 21, December 2016. Mr. Albright was stabbed outside his home in Manchester where he later died. Ms. Adler later gave birth to their son, Finn William Albright, on 12 August, 2017. They have no other children.
The trial continues into next week with the Defense beginning arguments on Wednesday.