Bernard Knight - According To The Evidence

‘I am a Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians and also hold the Licentiate in Medicine and Surgery of the Society of Apothecaries of London,’ he declared, inclining slightly towards the judge, as if to impress him with the notion that these qualifications were among the highest accolades in the British medical profession. In his seat on the second row of benches, Richard Pryor grinned to himself, as he knew that Mr Justice Templeman would be well aware that these ‘Conjoint’ qualifications and the LMSSA, though eminently respectable, were the basic requirements to get on the Medical Register. In fact, some medical students used them as a ‘safety net’ in case they failed the final examinations of their own universities.

Responding to further questions from the QC, Harrap-Johnson confirmed that he had acted as Dr Rogers’ locum for three weeks at the material time and that he had attended Mrs Mary Parker during that period.

‘And were you called urgently to the Parker household on April the seventh this year?’

‘I was indeed – but unfortunately the patient was deceased when I arrived, and all I could do was to confirm the fact of death.’

The young doctor spoke with a degree of gravitas that suggested he was used to attending the deathbeds of royalty.

‘You say that you confirmed the fact of death, doctor,’ said Lewis Gordon, tugging his black gown more closely across his chest. ‘But did you not certify the cause of death?’

Harrap-Johnson shook his head gravely. ‘I did not, sir. I felt unable to do so for several reasons.’

‘And what were they?’

‘First, although I was of course fully aware of Mrs Parker’s serious medical condition, I had seen her only two days previously and considered then that she was in no immediate danger of dying. Her notes compiled by Dr Rogers indicated that her condition had not deteriorated since his last visit.’

‘And the second reason?’

‘When I attended the house, I was met by the dead lady’s sister, Miss Lupin, who immediately conveyed her concerns about the nature of the death. She told me that she was a qualified pharmacist and that she suspected that her sister had been given an injection of a toxic substance.’

At this, the murmur of excitement that came from the public seats was almost palpable and the judge looked up sharply, a frown of annoyance on his face.

Lewis Gordon pressed on with his questions.

‘This must have come as something of a surprise to you, doctor?’

Harrap-Johnson managed to give the impression that such events were not uncommon in his practice and that he could take them in his stride. ‘Well, it was rather! But I was already uneasy about finding the lady dead so unexpectedly.’

‘What happened next?’

‘After I had done all I could at the bedside and confirmed that there was nothing to be done by the way of resuscitation, Miss Lupin insisted on taking me through to the veterinary clinic, where she showed me a large syringe still containing some liquid, a bottle labelled as potassium chloride and a carton of vials of sodium Pentothal.’

‘Was the defendant present when you arrived at the house?’

‘Not at first, sir. The housekeeper who admitted me said that Mr Parker was very shocked and was in the sitting room where she had given him strong tea, while he telephoned a funeral director to start making arrangements.’

‘So he was not present when his sister-in-law expressed her concerns about the nature of the death?’

‘No, but before I left I naturally sought him out to express my condolences and to tell him that I feared I was not in a position to provide a death certificate.’

‘How did he respond to that?’ asked Lewis Gordon.

For the first time, the locum doctor looked a little uncomfortable, and Moira wondered if there had been some strong opinions exchanged at the time.

‘Mr Parker expressed surprise and consternation at my inability to certify the death, especially when I said that I had no option but to inform the coroner.’

‘Did you mention the suspicions of Miss Lupin at that point?’

‘I did not. I thought it was not my place to do so; that aspect was up to the coroner.’

‘So the possibility of some sort of poisoning was not mentioned?’

Harrap-Johnson again looked uneasy, and Moira thought he might be recalling some terse words from the veterinary surgeon.

‘Not by me, but Mr Parker raised the allegations of his sister-in-law and forcefully rejected them.’

The prosecutor did not want to go further down this path and backtracked in order to get further details. This was boring stuff, and Moira could almost feel the restlessness of the court in having sheered away from more the dramatic revelations.

When he came to the end of these more mundane matters, the judge offered Nathan Prideaux the opportunity to cross-examine, which he accepted with an almost casual grace.

Leaning with one elbow on his little table, he started by investigating Austin Harrap-Johnson, rather than the facts of the case. ‘Doctor, how long have you been qualified?’

The young man frowned; this was not what he expected – he was here to show off his forensic acumen to the court.

‘Three years – and ten months,’ he added defensively.

‘How have you been employed during that time?’

Again Harrap-Johnson looked nonplussed.

‘Employed? Well, as soon as I qualified I became a house surgeon at Guy’s and then a house physician at the Royal Berkshire Hospital. Then I was called up for National Service for two years as a doctor in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Eastbury was my first locum after returning to civilian practice.’

‘What were your duties in the army, doctor?’

‘I was a Regimental Medical Officer to the Coldstream Guards. At first with the rank of lieutenant, then captain.’

Richard again grinned to himself – he knew that RMO postings to the posh regiments usually went to those with double-barrelled names who had been to Eton, Harrow or Marlborough.

The defence counsel nodded complacently. ‘I assume that most of those in a Guards regiment were pretty fit chaps, eh?’

Mystified, Harrap-Johnson agreed. ‘Most of my work was dealing with injuries of various types.’

‘So you have had little experience of middle-aged ladies dying of cancer?’

The discomfited doctor huffed and puffed a little, but had to agree. ‘But of course I had spent a year in two large hospitals before that – and as a student I had been trained in the full range of disease process.’

‘But had you even managed a case of terminal pancreatic carcinoma before?’

Harrap-Johnson, for all his pomposity, was an honest young man and had sworn to tell the truth, so he agreed he had not.

‘And had you ever seen a patient with that awful disease?’ pursued Prideaux relentlessly.

The locum wriggled a little, saying that a case had been demonstrated by a consultant at Guy’s and that he had seen other types of advanced cancer.

‘So doctor, it comes to this, doesn’t it?’ concluded the QC. ‘You have no personal experience of how and when a sufferer from terminal cancer of the pancreas might die. It’s right, isn’t it, that if Miss Sheila Lupin had not made her allegations about the possibility of a fatal injection, you would have taken your pad of certificates from your black bag and signed one on the spot?’

Harrap-Johnson pulled himself up in a last-ditch expression of defiance. ‘I don’t know about that. I was still not happy about the case.’

Nathan Prideaux gripped each side of his table and jutted his head forward towards the witness box. ‘But why not? You were quite entitled to certify, under the law which states that if a doctor has attended a patient within the previous four-teen days before death, excluding the final visit, he is entitled to issue a certificate. You fulfilled those criteria and were also locum to Dr Rogers, who had been treating Mrs Parker for many years, let alone fourteen days!’