Supreme Court of Western Australia
PERTH
October 18th
As the defence, Jodie gets the final say. She asks the jury to think about one word: love. She asks what it means to them, what it can do. She describes how it can destroy, and how it can also be returned. She reminds them of the remorse I felt when you went to prison, the letters I wrote, and that the feelings I had were genuine, if misplaced.
‘Kate Stone is full of love to have done what she did,’ Jodie concludes. ‘Love strong enough to set free her captor, love for her unborn child, even love for herself. In the end, her crime is to love her kidnapper. But can we ever really call love a crime?’
When Jodie sits down, I watch Mr Lowe exchange a look with the solicitor next to him.
‘The defence are playing unnecessarily on your heartstrings,’ he told the jury earlier. ‘Do not be swayed by their emotional, irrational approach.’
I run my eyes over that jury: twelve strangers who will decide my fate and how we are remembered. I almost feel sorry for them: what a responsibility. One of the younger women meets my gaze, just for a moment. Although I do not smile—I cannot—I am happy she is seeing me. I look down, my fingertips outlining the patterns of rock art on the table.
We wait hours for the verdict in a small, plain room in the bowels of the courthouse. I am allowed tea and biscuits, and soon I feel sick from eating too many. When it gets dark outside, a guard says they’ll take me back to the prison to wait there.
‘My bet is it’s going to be hours yet before they come to a decision,’ Jodie says, as I am escorted back to the transport van. ‘Try to get some rest while you can.’