It Sounded Fast

Or, My Quickest Judge-Alone Trial

Story

(I am still sick! So here is another story)

Early on in my career, when I was still a junior, I received an assignment from Legal Aid for what was then the still very new charge of engaging in a public exhibition of speed, also known as street racing. How the client actually got legal aid, I'm not quite sure how, because the offence wasn't actually a qualifying offence for legal aid, the maximum sentence being only three months' imprisonment, and legal aid supposedly having a qualifying starting point of six months. But, never mind.

The scene of the crime. Well, just behind you, actually.

Upon reviewing the police disclosure, I was surprised to see that the police officer who arrested my client had not actually witnessed the cars racing at all, let alone at speed. Instead, she had been speaking with another driver just off the Main North Road, going into Christchurch, and had heard two cars pass by her, their engines at high revs. It had sounded to her like they were going quite fast, and she assumed that they were racing. So she had abandoned the traffic stop she was at, chased the cars, and had eventually pulled over one of the cars engaged in this ‘race’, which happened to be driven by my client.

It seemed odd that my client was being charged with engaging in a race based on the sound level of his car's engine, and I attempted to persuade the prosecutor that they would have a difficult time showing that my client was doing anything other than driving down the road. But the prosecutor was adamant they had a good chance of succeeding at this, so off we went to a judge-alone trial.

Horrible building, inside and out. I can’t believe it survived the earthquakes. The new one looks better, but functions worse.

Come the day of the trial, and everybody's there for the call-over at 10 o'clock, and my matter gets called; "Are you ready to proceed?" says the Judge; Yes, we are ready to proceed. "Is your client here?" Yes, the client's here. "How many witnesses?" Just the two, the officer in charge and, if necessary, my client.

We're not the most important case, so we are stood down until after the morning break, which ends at 11.45. When we come back, there is a little bit left of the previous hearing, so we're stood down again until midday.

At midday, the police start their case. They outlined the allegation that my client was racing another car side by side at high speed along the Main North Road dual carriageway, heading into Christchurch. This officer had heard, but not seen, these cars racing, but the engines had been at high revs and, after stopping one, had found that my client was one of the drivers. The officer in charge was duly called, sworn in, and gave evidence that this was, in fact, what had happened.

When I was called upon to cross-examine, the first question I asked the officer in charge was, "What gear was my client in when he drove past you?" To which the confused response was, "I'm sorry." I repeated the question, "What gear was he in when my client drove past you?" The officer said, "Well, I don't know." She was clearly confused about the relevance, and so was the prosecutor, as evidenced by his question to the Judge about it.

Unhelpfully, I explained, "Well, if he was in first gear doing 60 kilometres per hour, the engine may well have been doing, say, 5,000 revs.”

“That would sound quite loud, wouldn't it?" I asked the officer. Her response was, "Well, I suppose so."

At this, the judge intervened and said something like, "Thank you, Mr. Brown. I think we've heard enough".

And that was the end of the case. Twelve minutes, start to finish, and I still think the Police don't understand why they lost.