‘My Lord, there was no joint enterprise,’ the lawyer said. ‘My client was under the impression that he was joining his friends for a game of soccer in the local park. He took no part in the involuntary manslaughter of the deceased. He is a young man of impeccable character, My Lord. The suggestion that there was joint enterprise was predicated on the fact that my client filmed the assault.’

The judge frowned over his reading glasses at the trembling youth in the dock. There was a kiss tattoo on Jed Blake’s neck. I had never seen one of those before. I don’t think they will catch on. It’s going to look silly when he’s sixty.

‘Do you understand the premise being suggested by your legal representative?’ the judge said.

Jed Blake snapped from his reverie. ‘Sorry, sir? What, sir?’

Irritation flickered across the claret-faced features of the judge.

‘Young man, all judges sitting at the Central Criminal Court are referred to as “My Lord” or “My Lady” regardless as to whether they are High Court judges, Circuit judges or recorders – do you understand?’

‘Yes . . . My Lord.’

‘Good. Your Mr Gilkes here argues that you had no intention of causing any physical harm to the late Mr Goddard. In common law legal doctrine there is something called common purpose – also known as joint criminal enterprise or common design. It imputes criminal liability for all participants in a criminal enterprise from all that results of that enterprise. Under the doctrine of common purpose, if a gang murders a man then all members of that gang are responsible for his death, regardless of who dealt the fatal blow.’

Jed Blake’s mouth lolled open. He was trying to keep up.

The judge continued.

‘You are here today to request leave to appeal against the verdict of involuntary manslaughter on the premise that you were never part of the gang that committed involuntary manslaughter. What do you have to say for yourself?’

‘Please, My Lord,’ the boy said, and burst into a fit of snotty sobbing. For a minute the only sound in the court was his weeping.

The judge cleared his throat.

‘Do you need a glass of water?’ he asked.

‘No, My Lord.’

‘Do you need a fifteen-minute break?’

‘No, My Lord. Thank you very much for asking, My Lord. It’s very kind of you, My Lord.’

Blake wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He smiled bravely. The judge frowned at him over his reading glasses.

‘What were you doing outside Mr Goddard’s property?’