Brian Freemantle - A Mind to Kill

‘I call Professor Hewitt,’ announced Hall. He was enjoying himself, savouring the reversal, refusing to be distracted by the underlying uncertainty. Jarvis was according him every consideration, no longer interrupting. And there had been nothing from Jennifer, in the dock. At the thought he turned to look at her, smiling slightly. This time Jennifer did smile back, although doubtfully.

The Home Office pathologist was a thin, bespectacled man with mousy, receding hair. He entered the witness-box briskly, a busy man irritated at being bothered a second time.

Discerning the man’s mood, Hall said, ‘There is only what you may regard as a small matter upon which I am going to ask you to assist the court, professor, but I must ask you to accept my word it is of vital importance. Gerald Lomax had been the victim of a violent and sustained attack, had he not?’

‘Yes.’

‘During which he had received wounds and injuries described by you during your earlier testimony as massive?’

‘Yes.’

‘As well as examining those massive wounds, about which you’ve already told us, and ascertaining that Gerald Lomax was not suffering any medical condition that might have contributed to his death, did you also take a sample of Gerald Lomax’s blood?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you have it pathologically analysed.’

‘I did not do it personally. It was forensically analysed by Doctor Billington.’

‘Quite so. He would have advised you of his findings, though, to complete your report?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell the court the grouping?’

Hewitt flicked through the manila folder he had carried into the box. ‘AB Rhesus Positive.’

‘It is a customary forensic practice in such cases of violent attack and death for a pathologist to take samples of detritus that may be found beneath a victim’s fingernails, is it not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Help the court by telling us why that is done?’

‘It is invariably instinctive for people to try to fight off their attackers: do something in self-defence. It is very common to find skin or blood particles or hair beneath a victim’s fingernails.’

‘Did you carry out such tests upon Gerald Lomax?’

‘Yes.’

‘And recover the evidence you sought?’

‘Yes. Some skin particles and blood. There was no hair.’

An idea of what more he could do burst upon Jeremy Hall, so startling that for several moments he remained unspeaking, lost even to his surroundings. It would be absolutely conclusive and sensational – far more sensationally conclusive than he was already sure he could prove Jennifer’s innocence – but he needed time and consultation to decide whether to go that far.

He was brought back to the present by a cough from the judge. Jarvis said, ‘Mr Hall?’ There was none of the irritability of before.

‘I beg the court’s pardon, my Lord,’ apologized Hall. ‘What did you do with these samples, professor?’

‘Passed them on for forensic analysis.’

‘Do you know the results of those analyses?’

‘The blood was O Rhesus Negative. I do not know about skin comparison.’

There was a sound in Jennifer’s head, like a sharp intake of breath, at the same time as a stir of growing, although still doubtful, realization from the press. Outwardly – audibly throughout the court – the disturbance was very brief, quickly shrouded in total silence.

‘ Fuck! ’ That was quiet, too. Not even addressed to Jennifer.

‘In your expert opinion, professor, would those samples from beneath the fingernails of Gerald Lomax have come from his attacker, in his desperate attempt to fight that attacker off?’

‘Unquestionably.’

‘I want to challenge you upon that, professor. Unquestionably? Beyond any reasonable doubt, in your mind?’

‘Unquestionably beyond any reasonable doubt.’

Again Keflin-Brown did not re-examine.

Anthony Billington came into the witness-box wearing the same taut, second-skin suit, his freckle-dotted face creased with curiosity at his recall. Because of its importance, Jeremy Hall began by taking the forensic expert through his qualifications and years of experience in his highly technical science.

‘You head the Home Office forensic pathological investigation team?’

‘Yes.’ Billington’s face coloured slightly, at the acknowledgement.

‘I would like to explore more fully than I did earlier upon what you found when you entered Gerald Lomax’s office, on the day of the murder. His body – and Mrs Lomax – were still in situ?’

‘Yes.’

‘You told us you took blood samples?’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘Both were – in the case of the man had been – bleeding profusely. I took slide provision.’

‘Explain to us what slide provision means.’

‘I quite simply took samples of blood, from both people, later to transfer on to slides, for scientific examination.’

‘Externally, from their weeping wounds. Not by intravenous extraction?’

‘It was not necessary to draw blood off by needle.’

‘Wouldn’t that open the possibility of error? Picking up, for example, blood that might have splashed from another wounded person and not been that of the person to which you later ascribed it?’

‘The circumstances of this case – of my scene-of-crime examination – were extremely unusual. The victim and his attacker were still there. No-one else had been involved. I lifted blood samples not from just one but from several open wounds of both people. By taking more than one sample and from separate sites, I ensured no splash error could contaminate my analysis.’

The silence Hall intruded now was intentional and very mannered: he was, he accepted, performing like Keflin-Brown. When it had stretched almost to break point, Hall echoed, ‘“The circumstances of this case were extremely unusual… no-one else was involved.” Are you sure about that, Doctor?’

‘Of course I’m sure about it!’ said Billington, irritated by the doubt. ‘I was there. Took the samples.’

‘And I am extremely glad that you did,’ placated Hall. ‘How many blood groups did you identify from the scene of the crime?’

‘Two.’

‘What were they?’

‘AB Rhesus Positive and O Rhesus Negative.’

The press gallery was in a tightly controlled frenzy and the burn on Jennifer’s skin was so bad now she had surreptitiously to scratch her arms and her legs. Ann Wardle was at once alert beside her. Jennifer whispered, ‘It’s all right.’

‘Identify each to the persons from whom you obtained those samples, Dr Billington.’

‘Gerald Lomax was AB Rhesus Positive. Mrs Lomax was O Rhesus Negative.’

In his satisfied excitement it was frustrating for Hall to hold back his presentation in the necessary, step-by-step order. ‘You took blood samples other than from the wounds of Gerald and Jennifer Lomax, did you not?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about from the window, overlooking the trading floor?’

‘Several samples.’

‘There were some fingerprints, in blood, on that window, were there not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you take a sample from those bloodied fingerprints: where the blood might have run down the window.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘But not in any way to affect the definition of the fingerprints.’

‘Of course not!’ said the scientist, affronted.

‘Can you tell the court the group of the blood you took, running down from the fingerprints?’

‘O Rhesus Negative.’

‘You are absolutely sure of that?’

‘There is no possible doubt.’

‘O Rhesus Negative is an unusual blood group, is it not?’

‘Yes.’

‘One you would be unlikely to confuse or make a mistake over?’