‘Tut, tut! Nearly forgot – again.’

He walked back, picked up the spent cartridge cases, popped them in his pocket and left.

‘Members of the jury, Charles Gallagher is on trial for the crime of murder, the penalty for which is imprisonment for life. It is these two awful facts which bring you and I face to face this afternoon.’

James Muirhead had opened his address to the jury. He had spent the luncheon adjournment strolling along the walkway by the banks of the Clyde. Not that he cared about fresh air or taking exercise. It was a chance to compose his mind and prepare for the performance which lay ahead. He knew the points he wanted to make. It was time to concentrate on his presentation.

The Crown had set out its stall. The Depute’s speech had been impressive. This was a worrying time for the defence. The jury had listened to the parts of the evidence which were most helpful to the prosecution. If they asked for a verdict now, there was a reasonable prospect that they might convict. Muirhead would have to stabilise the situation then go on the attack.

No one knew better than Muirhead that to convince a jury you had to appear and sound as if you believed every word you were saying. You were an actor playing a role. If the critics did not like it they would be swift to let you know. Unfortunately, bad reviews tended to have a drastic effect upon your client.

When he returned to the court building, Muirhead changed into wig and gown, went for the obligatory nervous pee, then headed straight to court. The adrenaline-fed tension was there, but under control. It was a drug which was necessary for the performance. He was ready. There again, he had to be.

‘The Advocate Depute has put before you the facts which he claims demonstrates the guilt of the accused. What then is my role? It is not my task to get a guilty man off. As you have been told, rightly, Mr Gallagher is presumed to be innocent and remains so until you and you alone say otherwise. You can only convict a man of a crime, but especially the crime of murder, if guilt has been proved, and proved beyond all reasonable doubt. These are not just words. These concepts are the very foundation of our legal system. Of course they protect Mr Gallagher but they also protect you and every other citizen of this country.

‘Proof beyond reasonable doubt is not a matter of ifs, buts and maybes. Before you can convict, there must be no evidence, not a single scrap of evidence, which makes you stop and think, which makes you wonder. If there is – you acquit. I do not tell you this. The law tells you this. The law does not take chances with a man’s liberty, for that next to life itself, is the most precious gift we have.