It did, however, include the drama of a faltering start and a breathtaking conclusion. The most senior permanent judge at the Central Criminal Court, with the title of Recorder of London, was presiding in the new show-piece courtroom in which the public gallery had been extended to more than three times its original capacity. It could now accommodate up to 100 observers, and every seat was taken. As the courtroom settled, the Honourable Justice Owen Templar QC made a direct appeal to the public gallery. He was a man of medium height and build, made to look larger by the uniform of his office, which ebbed and flowed with his embellished theatrical movements. His features were sharp and distinguished, with bushy white eyebrows which at first sight looked like an extension of his wig. A rimless pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. “I am aware,” he said, in a voice which was disproportionately loud for his size, “of the depth of interest in this case throughout the country and the heightened feelings it has stimulated in many people.
