Brian Freemantle - A Mind to Kill

‘I said I can’t be sure when I bought it.’

‘ You bought it!’ pounced Hall. ‘Remembering, before you answer, that you are on oath, Ms Nicholls, isn’t a far more accurate story of the ring that you did indeed buy it yourself, not together with Gerald Lomax. That its purpose and purchase was to strengthen the motive of jealousy for the crime of which my client stands accused?’

‘No.’

‘Speak up, Ms Nicholls,’ demanded Jarvis.

‘No,’ repeated Rebecca, only slightly louder.

‘Could I place on record, my Lord, the possibility of my seeking to recall this witness after further enquiries are made?’

‘He gave me the money!’ shouted Rebecca, her voice snatched by a sob. Then the words rushed out. ‘Gerald gave me the money and said it was for an engagement ring and when he died I bought it as he’d intended me to so I could keep it always, in his memory…’

‘I don’t think I need bother Garrards,’ said Hall, sitting down.

He did, however, ask each trader subsequently called if they remembered the ring being worn by Rebecca Nicholls. None did. There was little else he chose to examine them upon. Their accounts of Gerald Lomax being murdered were identical, as were Jane’s interventions which lessened anyway after a further warning from Jarvis to have Jennifer removed from the dock. The only variation was the evidence of Roger Jones, the trading-floor manager, who followed Rebecca into the witness-box. He testified that when he reached the office, Jennifer was cradling Gerald Lomax in her arms and said, ‘Gerald’s dead. Someone stabbed him.’

‘“Gerald’s dead. Someone stabbed him”?’ echoed Hall. ‘Not “I stabbed him, because he was deceiving me with Rebecca Nicholls” or some such words?’

‘No.’

‘Was Jennifer Lomax in any way threatening?’

‘No.’

‘You never feared she might attack you?’

‘At first, when I got there. But not when I saw what she was like.’

‘What was she like?’

‘Bewildered, as if she didn’t understand what had happened.’

Because their accounts of the killing were virtually the same and Jeremy Hall’s cross-examination so minimal the evidence from the trading floor was completed by mid-afternoon. It was the prosecution who called the hospital doctor, Peter Lloyd, whom Hall had originally seen as a defence witness. Keflin-Jones did so to establish that when Jennifer Lomax was admitted she was not suffering from shock but appeared composed and aware of her surroundings.

Lloyd had volunteered a lengthier statement than even the prosecution needed, urged to do so by a hospital management anxious against any criticism to set out in minute medical detail every aspect of the treatment Jennifer had received.

The awareness – the abrupt recognition of the nagging doubt that he’d felt but been unable to resolve – exploded in Jeremy Hall’s mind halfway through Lloyd’s evidence, which Hall was following from the copy of the doctor’s statement that had been made available under the rule of disclosure.

The significance was such that briefly the words fogged in front of Hall’s eyes. He heard Lloyd say the words, exactly as they were written down, but then closed his senses to the rest of the man’s evidence, sorting through the papers in front of him so hurriedly that Keflin-Brown paused, distracted, looking accusingly sideways. Perry leaned forward, nudging the younger man but Hall was oblivious to anything but the evidence they had already heard and the notes that he had made.

His concentration was such that he was not conscious of Keflin-Brown sitting, giving him the opportunity to cross-examine, until Jarvis said, ‘Are you with us, Mr Hall?’

‘Very much so, my Lord,’ assured Hall. He rose slowly, checking the time as he did so, calculating he had fifteen minutes to fill before the adjournment of that day’s hearing.

‘You carried out every conceivable test and examination considered necessary upon Mrs Lomax, consistent with her medical condition when she was admitted?’

‘Yes.’

‘Some of which were repeated, according to clinical practice?’

‘Yes.’

Still ten minutes to go. ‘Physical conditions – illnesses – not immediately evident can be ascertained from certain pathological examinations?’

‘Yes.’

‘Faeces and urine, for example?’

‘Yes.’

‘I think this has already been well established, Mr Hall.’

‘With the greatest of respect, my Lord, I think there is something of vital importance to this case that has not been established. And needs to be.’

‘ What the fuck’s he on about? ’

Hall welcomed the time the judge remained looking at him before nodding curtly. Five minutes, he saw. ‘Spinal fluid?’

‘Yes.’

‘Temperature?’

‘Yes.’

Three minutes. ‘Pulse?’

‘Yes.’

‘Blood?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many times, doctor, were blood samples taken from Mrs Lomax?’

Lloyd went back to his medical reports. ‘In total, five times.’

‘Do you have many more questions for this witness, Mr Hall?’ interrupted the judge.

‘Possibly a very great many,’ said Hall, satisfaction and anticipation surging through him.

‘Then I think we will adjourn until tomorrow.’

Hall wheeled to Humphrey Perry before Jarvis was out of the court. ‘Have Jennifer kept in the cells, below. I want an independent medical examiner. Our own forensic expert. And we’ll need the prosecution’s technical people who’ve already given evidence here again tomorrow. See they’re called. Don’t let Bentley or Rodgers leave the court today. And we’ll need Jarvis’s clerk…’ Hall turned sideways, to Keflin-Brown. ‘I’d like you to be present, too.’ He stopped, trying to think of anything he’d overlooked. Urgently he said, ‘Don’t tell Jennifer Lomax what we’re doing in advance of doing it. I don’t want any warning given.’

Keflin-Brown was gazing at the other barrister in open-mouthed astonishment. ‘What the hell are you on about?’

‘I’m not sure,’ admitted Hall. Suddenly he was chilled by fear, physically shivering.

Sir Ivan Jarvis was incandescent with rage, the fury worsened by it being obvious to everyone in chambers – but to himself most of all – that he had no alternative. He was, nevertheless, still seeking one.

Jeremy Hall had endured the threats and gone through the music-hall accusations quite unworried: he’d already decided there were grounds for appeal upon the judge’s court-recorded animosity. What had happened during the past twelve hours – with only God knowing what was likely to emerge in the coming twenty-four – guaranteed not just the legal overturning of everything if Jarvis didn’t comply but ensured an ignominious end to the old man’s lifelong career. Jarvis knew that, too.

‘I made clear my attitude to tricks, Mr Hall!’

‘And I’ve made clear, my Lord, that these matters only came to my notice at the conclusion of yesterday’s hearing. This application is not based on trickery. It is based upon fact.’ It was hard, in his excitement, not to appear overconfident: not too soon or too quickly to seek some personal satisfaction from how he’d been demeaned in open court.

‘The facts were in a statement, for all to see and challenge!’

‘One was, my Lord,’ corrected Hall, not needing to take the reminder further. Jarvis had prior access to Peter Lloyd’s statement, as well as both prosecution and defence.

‘My Lord,’ intruded Keflin-Brown. ‘My learned friend very properly provided me with every facility and access, after last night’s conclusion. From what has come to light, overnight, I must support his application most strongly in every way.’ There was his practised, mannered paused. ‘In fact, subject to your Lordship’s direction I intend suspending the prosecution until it has been resolved.’