To Cut a Long Story Short

‘And this year, you sent out only 1,900 invoices. May I ask why five hundred companies were reprieved?’

‘I decided not to invoice those firms that had declared poor annual results and had failed to offer their shareholders a dividend.’

‘Most commendable, I’m sure. But how many still paid the full amount?’

‘1,090,’ said Kenny.

Mr Jarvis stared at the jury for some time before asking, ‘And how much profit did you make during your first year?’

The courtroom was as silent as it had been at any point during the eight-day trial as Kenny considered his reply. ‘PS1,412,000,’ he eventually replied.

‘And this year?’ asked Mr Jarvis quietly.

‘It fell a little, which I blame on the recession.’

‘How much?’ demanded Mr Jarvis.

‘A little over PS1,200,000.’

‘No more questions, m’lud.’

Both leading counsels made robust final statements, but Kenny sensed that the jury would wait to hear the judge’s summing-up on the following day before they came to their verdict.

Mr Justice Thornton took a considerable time to sum the case up. He pointed out to the jury that it was his responsibility to explain to them the law as it applied in this particular case.

‘And we are certainly dealing with a man who has studied the letter of the law. And that is his privilege, because it is parliamentarians who make the law, and it is not for the courts to try and work out what was in their minds at the time.

‘To that end I must tell you that Mr Merchant is charged on seven counts, and on six of them I must advise you to return a verdict of “not guilty”, because I direct you that Mr Merchant has not broken the law.

‘On the seventh charge - that of failing to supply copies of his magazine, Business Enterprise UK, to those customers who had paid for an advertisement and then requested a copy - he admitted that, in a few cases, he failed so to do. Members of the jury, you may feel that he certainly broke the law on that occasion, even though he rectified the position a year later - and then I suspect only because the number of requests had fallen below one hundred copies. Members of the jury will possibly recall that particular clause of the Data Protection Act, and its significance.’ Twelve blank expressions didn’t suggest that they had much idea what he was talking about.

The judge ended with the words, ‘I hope you will not take your final decision lightly, as there are several parties beyond this courtroom who will be awaiting your verdict.’

The defendant had to agree with that sentiment as he watched the jury file out of the courtroom, accompanied by the ushers. He was taken back down to his cell, where he declined lunch, and spent over an hour lying on a bunk before he was asked to return to the dock and learn his fate.

Once Kenny had climbed the stairs and was back in the dock, he only had to wait a few minutes before the jury filed back into their places.

The judge took his seat, looked down towards the clerk of the court and nodded. The clerk then turned his attention to the foreman of the jury and read out each of the seven charges.

On the first six counts of fraud and deception, the foreman followed the instructions of the judge and delivered verdicts of ‘not guilty’.

The clerk then read out the seventh charge: failure to supply a copy of the magazine to those companies who, having paid for an advertisement in the said magazine and requested a copy of the said magazine, failed to receive one. ‘How do you find the defendant on this charge - guilty or not guilty?’ asked the clerk.

‘Guilty,’ said the foreman, and resumed his seat.

The judge turned his attention to Kenny, who was standing to attention in the dock.

‘Like you, Mr Merchant,’ he began, ‘I have spent a considerable time studying the Data Protection Act 1992, and in particular the penalties for failing to adhere to clause 84, paragraph 1. I have decided that I am left with no choice but to inflict on you the maximum penalty the law allows in this particular case.’ He stared down at Kenny, looking as if he was about to pronounce the death sentence.

‘You will be fined PS1,000.’

Mr Duveen did not rise to seek leave for appeal or time to pay, because it was exactly the verdict Kenny had predicted before the trial opened. He had made only one error during the past two years, and he was happy to pay for it. Kenny left the dock, wrote out a cheque for the amount demanded and passed it across to the clerk of the court.

Having thanked his legal team

, he checked his watch and quickly left the courtroom. The Chief Inspector was waiting for him in the corridor.

‘So that should finally put paid to your little business enterprise,’ said Travis, running alongside him.