Cochrane: When court doesn’t feel safe
The court system is supposed to be a haven of safety and order. A place where disputes can be resolved, where justice can be delivered. But at provincial court in Atlantic Place this week, fear collided with the judicial process. And fear won.
It happened at the assault trial of Al Potter, a member of the Vikings Motorcycle Club. Potter’s trial became ground zero in a battle over witness intimidation. A battle that the Crown attorney’s office appears to be losing.
Potter himself is a large and intimidating man. At more than six feet tall, estimated at close to 300 pounds, with a string of arrests and a criminal record, he isn’t the type of guy anybody wants to mess with.
But he becomes even more intimidating when he has the backup of the half dozen or so members of the Vikings motorcycle club who showed up in full gang colours to support Potter as he went to trial.
Human billboards
The Vikings gathered in the hallways inside the court complex and in the public areas outside. They sat in the back of the courtroom. A cluster of tattoos, motorcycle jackets and vests. Human billboards with a clear, menacing message.
The Crown attorney felt this overt presence had the singular purpose of intimidating any witness who would testify against Potter. Potter is facing assault charges connected to an incident at a bed-sitting house in September of last year, which was allegedly about a plot to intimidate another man into stealing a gun. It allegedly turned violent, police arrived on the scene and Potter is now getting his day in court.
There are rarely perfect, unimpeachable witnesses when a brawl breaks out in a bedsitting house. So this trial was always going to be a challenge for the Crown. But Crown attorney Kathleen O’Reilly argued she faced the extra challenge of witness intimidation.
At least three of her scheduled witnesses had expressed deep fear over testifying in open court. One man — the alleged victim of the assault — said he was afraid he would be killed if he had to take the stand in full view of the public. Others said they feared “physical reprisal” if they testified. They all referenced biker gangs. O’Reilly asked the judge to close the court to everyone except the media to ensure witness safety. A request the judge denied.
Instead the judge ordered open court, with some restrictions. Nobody could fly gang colours or wear motorcycle jackets in the courtroom. There could be no visible tattoos. As if the perceived threat of “physical reprisal” was removed along with the clothing, or suppressed by covering up some ink.
Witnesses still had to get to fourth floor of Atlantic Place, where a group of Vikings — in full gang colours —congregated at the top of the escalators. If witnesses took the alternate elevators, they still had to walk through the narrow corridors of provincial court, with Vikings lining the walls just outside the courtroom. Witnesses had to pass through the very men they were afraid of, on their way to give testimony against the man the Vikings were there to support. They had to repeat the gauntlet on the way out after they were done.
Very little was actually said in the hallways and public spaces. But that didn’t matter. The message was clear.
The RNC and RCMP were there, along with the usual contingent of sheriff’s officers. But as long as the Vikings did nothing but look menacing, they were powerless to intervene.
Stacking chairs
So without the ban, the Crown attorney resorted to gamesmanship. Lining up journalists, RNC officers and Mounties to fill as many seats in the courtroom as they could. The goal was to fill the public gallery and leave no room for even jacket-free and ink-free Vikings. It was a clever move. But it’s astonishing that a Crown attorney was left to feel that stacking chairs was her best option to properly prosecute her case.
As the trial began a CBC journalist and two Mounties had a whispered conversation in the back of the courtroom. The judge ordered them kicked out and barred from the rest of the trial. He said he wanted to send a clear message that he would not tolerate disruption of these already tense proceedings. All it did was open up three seats for the bikers.
If all of this was designed to create a safe space for the witnesses it doesn’t appear to have worked. In the morning, the alleged victim refused to testify or even enter the courtroom because he still feared for his safety. By the afternoon, the alleged victim did take the witness stand, but had to be escorted into court by a phalanx of sheriffs officers. Under oath, he quickly claimed that he couldn’t remember anything from the night in question and had no recollection of even speaking to the police.
Mission accomplished.
What happened this week is a symptom of the changing nature of the crime in this city. It’s part of the same escalation that prompted Premier Paul Davis to rebrand the department of Justice to include Public Safety. So when the Crown attorney raised the issue of witness intimidation, I asked the government to comment.
'Protected from intimidation'
“Ensuring the safety of all court participants is of paramount importance,” Justice and Public Safety Minister Judy Manning said in a statement. “Crown attorneys, acting as agents of the Attorney General, take all appropriate measures to ensure that witnesses are protected from intimidation.”
But lawyers and police officers at the court say they’ve never seen anything like this before. They expressed anger and frustration over their inability to prosecute cases if they can’t ensure an intimidation free environment inside the provincial court complex.
The Vikings will be there again when Potter’s trial resumes later this month. Jackets and vests in the hallways outside the court, steady stares at the witness inside the court. If it works, it won’t end with this trial.
The drama will be repeated the next time a Vikings friend or associate finds themselves in the prisoner’s dock. And —unless something changes — another Crown attorney will be forced to resort to stacking chairs to give the courtroom the illusion of safety.