Brian Freemantle - The Namedropper

‘Your honour!’ interrupted Bartle, jerking to his feet. ‘I would once more respectfully invite your honour to accept, with the apologies I have already expressed and would reiterate, my explanation for this most unfortunate misunderstanding, this oversight, and not further delay the progress of this case by calling Dr Chapman.’

‘An application that I also most earnestly request with Dr Lewell,’ said Wolfson, bobbing up as Bartle sat, as if both lawyers were performing vaudeville, if not theatre.

‘Why “most earnestly”, Mr Wolfson?’ demanded Pullinger.

Leanne’s lawyer looked blankly to the raised bench, initially appearing not to understand the question. The confusion increased when he did understand. ‘I meant… maybe a mistake on my part, your honour. I meant my client and I are anxious not to impede the progress of the court now that this medical difficulty has been resolved.’

‘I do not for a moment find that what you refer to as “this medical difficulty” has been resolved to my satisfaction,’ refused Pullinger. ‘Having been found – exposed – to be so lamentably wanting, are you, Mr Wolfson, or you, Mr Bartle, seeking to bulldoze this court to bury those failings?’

Both Bartle and Wolfson were standing now and their replies – ‘under no circumstance whatsoever, your honour’ – came practically in unison. Beside him Beckwith created another battalion of exclamation marks on his yellow legal pad, taking Jordan’s mind back to their adjournment lunch in the court cafeteria, at which Alyce, her doctor and Reid had not appeared. To Jordan’s insistence there, a euphoric Beckwith had gauged the chances of getting his dismissal at seventy-five percent. So surprised had Jordan been by the estimate that his initial, unconsidered thought had been that if he were discharged he could, within days, be back in England, the nightmare relegated to the place of bad dreams. Until a question hurried him back to reality. What, he asked himself, about Alfred Jerome Appleton and the personal promise he’d made to himself: what Alyce had in France called tit for tat? The fact that if he were discharged he wouldn’t be penalized for hundreds of thousands – millions even – didn’t come into any calculation. The bill would still be huge, here in America and in England. And he didn’t intend spending as little as a single bent penny of his own money in payment or settlement for anything. Appleton would, though. Jordan was more implacably determined than ever to recover everything and more – far more – for the upheaval the man had caused. So he wouldn’t be returning to London whatever the outcome of today’s hearing. Only when Alyce abruptly turned towards him did Jordan realize that throughout his reflection he had been looking at her. She frowned, questioningly. Jordan looked hurriedly away.

‘I hope I can be convinced of that,’ Pullinger was saying. nodding again to Beckwith to resume.

Dr Mark Chapman came reluctantly to the stand and took the oath looking fixedly at Appleton and his lawyer, not averting his gaze until Pullinger stated, for the record, that the doctor had been called to give evidence upon the application of a defendant lawyer.

‘Dr Chapman,’ began Beckwith, at Pullinger’s indication, ‘will you give, again for the benefit of the record and in full, not by acronym, your medical qualifications?’

Chapman’s hesitation lasted so long that Jordan briefly thought the man was going to refuse, but finally Chapman responded, with clipped, stilted formality, the faintest trace of an Irish accent in his voice.

‘In addition to those qualifications, you also contribute to medical journals upon subjects within your chosen expertise, do you not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Regularly?’

‘No.’

From the way Beckwith was standing Jordan could see the faint smile on his lawyer’s face and guessed Beckwith had reached the same conclusion that he had, that the venerealogist intended to remain monosyllabic.

‘How many articles have you been responsible for in, say, the last five years?’

Chapman thought before replying. ‘Six.’

‘To the admiration of your peers? Dr Abrahams, for example?’

From Bartle’s table there was movement that ceased at Pullinger’s quick look.

‘I do not know.’

‘You have not received letters of appreciation, congratulation, from other specialists in your field?’

‘Not from Dr Abrahams.’

‘But from others?’

‘Occasionally.’

‘As I made clear, I asked you to give your qualifications in full for the benefit of the court record. In assembling them for myself I discovered the possibility of you taking up a position as lecturing microbiologist at Boston’s leading teaching hospital, which would accord you the title of professor, would it not?’

‘The appointment has not yet been made.’

‘Were it to be made in your favour, Dr Chapman, would you include the diagnostic importance of antibodies and antigens in your lectures?’

The man’s second hesitation was as long as the first. Eventually Chapman said, ‘Of course I would!’

‘Of course you would,’ echoed Beckwith. ‘Because as we have heard in very informative detail from Dr Abrahams, the discovery or otherwise of antibodies and/or antigens is a very necessary part of the investigation into infections and disease, either bacterial or viral, are they not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why then, doctor, didn’t you include your discovery of antichlamydia IgG in your examination of Alfred Appleton, the purpose of which was to establish whether Alfred Appleton had suffered, or was suffering, a chlamydia infection?’

‘I was responding to the instructions with which I had been served,’ said Chapman, with the quickness that hinted at prior preparation.

Now it was Beckwith who let the silence build into a mocking echo. ‘You were responding to the instructions with which you had been served?’

‘Yes.’ Chapman’s concentration was again on Bartle.

‘Which were?’ persisted Beckwith.

Chapman had both hands gripping the side of the witness stand, as if he physically needed its support and his face was markedly flushed compared to his complexion when he’d first entered it. Formally, his voice fluctuating, he recited, ‘To examine Alfred Appleton and carry out various recognized tests to establish whether Alfred Appleton was suffering a venereal infection, specifically chlamydia. At the time of my examination, he was not. That is what I said in my report.’

‘Your original report,’ qualified Beckwith.

‘My original report,’ agreed the venerealogist.

‘At the time of that original report – during your investigative examination – you found antichlamydia IgG in Alfred Appleton’s blood, did you not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Which proved that he had suffered such an infection and been treated for it?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you chose not to include that finding?’

‘I was following the remit that I had been given. At the time of my examination, Alfred Appleton did not have a venereal infection.’ The man continued staring fixedly at the table at which Appleton and his lawyer sat.

‘Your honour!’ broke in Bartle, groping to his feet. ‘Can I help by confirming what Dr Chapman is telling the court? The remit to which Dr Chapman is referring was mine.’

‘Knowing of its relevance in the case before us, you did not ask Dr Chapman to provide evidence of your client having an infection in the past, only if he suffered it at the time of examination?’ demanded the judge, making no effort to keep the incredulity from his voice.

‘That is so, your honour,’ confirmed Bartle. ‘The fault, the oversight, is mine, not that of Dr Chapman. And I humbly apologize.’