Джеффри Арчер - To Cut a Long Story Short

The judge on this occasion, Mr Justice Fairborough, nodded towards prosecuting counsel. ‘Call your first witness, Mr Lennox.’

Mr Desmond Lennox QC rose slowly from his place. ‘I am obliged, m’lud. I call Professor Harold Bamford.’

A surprised Sir Toby looked up from his notes to see his old friend heading confidently towards the witness box. The London jury looked quizzically at the man from Leeds.

Sir Toby had to admit that Mr Lennox established his expert witness’s credentials rather well — without once referring to Leeds. Mr Lennox then proceeded to take Harry through a series of questions, which ended up making his client sound like a cross between Jack the Ripper and Dr Crippen.

Mr Lennox finally said, ‘No more questions, m’lud,’ and sat down with a smug expression on his face.

Mr Justice Fairborough looked down at Sir Toby and asked, ‘Do you have any questions for this witness?’

‘I most certainly do, m’lud,’ said Toby, rising from his place. ‘Professor Bamford,’ he said, as if it were their first encounter, ‘before I come to the case in hand, I think it would be fair to say that my learned friend Mr Lennox made great play of establishing your credentials as an expert witness. You will have to forgive me if I revisit that subject, and clear up one or two small details that puzzled me.’

‘Certainly, Sir Toby,’ said Harry.

‘This first degree you took at... er, yes, at Leeds University. What subject was it that you studied?’

‘Geography,’ said Harry.

‘How interesting. I wouldn’t have thought that was an obvious preparation for someone who would go on to become an expert in handguns. However,’ he continued, ‘allow me to move on to your Ph.D., which was awarded by an American university. Can I ask if that degree is recognised by English universities?’

‘No, Sir Toby, but...’

‘Please confine yourself to answering the questions, Professor Bamford. For example, does Oxford or Cambridge University recognise your Ph.D.?’

‘No, Sir Toby.’

‘I see. And, as Mr Lennox was at pains to point out, this whole case may well rest on your credentials as an expert witness.’

Mr Justice Fairborough looked down at the defence counsel and frowned. ‘It will be up to the jury to make that decision, based on the facts presented to them, Sir Toby.’

‘I agree m’lud. I just wished to establish how much credence the members of the jury should place in the opinions of the Crown’s expert witness.’

The judge frowned again.

‘But if you feel I have made that point, m’lud, I will move on,’ said Sir Toby, turning back to face his old friend.

‘You told the jury, Professor Bamford — as an expert — that in this particular case the victim couldn’t have committed suicide, because the gun was found in his hand.’

‘That is correct, Sir Toby. It’s a common mistake — often made in poorly researched films and television programmes — for victims to be shown still holding onto the gun after they have shot themselves.’

‘Yes, yes, Professor Bamford. We have already been entertained by your great knowledge of television soap operas, when my learned friend was examining you. At least we’ve found something you’re an expert in. But I should like to return to the real world. Can I be clear about one thing, Professor Bamford: you are not suggesting even for a moment, I hope, that your evidence proves that the defendant placed the gun in her husband’s hand. If that were so, you wouldn’t be an expert, Professor Bamford, but a clairvoyant.’

‘I made no such assumption, Sir Toby.’

‘I’m grateful to have your support in that. But tell me, Professor Bamford: in your experience, have you ever come across a case in which the murderer placed the gun in the victim’s hand, in order to try to suggest that the cause of death was suicide?’

Harry hesitated for a moment.

‘Take your time, Professor Bamford. The rest of a woman’s life may depend on your reply.’

‘I have come across such cases in the past’ — he hesitated again — ‘on three occasions.’

‘On three occasions?’ repeated Sir Toby, trying to look surprised, despite the fact that he himself had appeared in all three cases.

‘Yes, Sir Toby,’ said Harry.

‘And, in these three cases, did the jury return a verdict of not guilty?’

‘No,’ said Harry quietly.

‘No?’ repeated Sir Toby, facing the jury. ‘In how many of the cases did the jury find the defendant not guilty?’

‘In two of the cases.’

‘And what happened in the third?’ asked Sir Toby.

‘The man was convicted of murder.’

‘And sentenced...?’ asked Sir Toby.

‘To life imprisonment.’

‘I think I’d like to know a little bit more about that case, Professor Bamford.’

‘Is this leading anywhere, Sir Toby?’ asked Mr Justice Fairborough, staring down at the defence counsel.

‘I suspect we are about to find out, m’lud,’ said Sir Toby, turning back to the jury, whose eyes were now fixed on the expert witness. ‘Professor Bamford, do let the court know the details of that particular case.’

‘In that case, the Queen against Reynolds,’ said Harry, ‘Mr Reynolds served eleven years of his sentence before fresh evidence was produced to show that he couldn’t have committed the crime. He was later pardoned.’

‘I hope you’ll forgive my next question, Professor Bamford, but a woman’s reputation, not to mention her freedom, is at stake in this courtroom.’ He paused, looked gravely at his old friend and said, ‘Did you appear on behalf of the prosecution in that particular case?’

‘I did, Sir Toby.’

‘As an expert witness for the Crown?’

Harry nodded. ‘Yes, Sir Toby.’

‘And an innocent man was convicted for a crime that he did not commit, and ended up serving eleven years in prison?’

Harry nodded again. ‘Yes, Sir Toby.’

‘No “buts” in that particular case?’ asked Sir Toby. He waited for a reply, but Harry didn’t speak. He knew he no longer had any credibility as an expert witness in this particular case.

‘One final question, Professor Bamford: in the other two cases, to be fair, did the juries’ verdicts support your interpretation of the evidence?’

‘They did, Sir Toby.’

‘You will recall, Professor Bamford, that the Crown made great play of the fact that in the past your evidence has been crucial in cases such as these, in fact — to quote Mr Lennox verbatim — “the decisive factor in proving the Crown’s case”. However, we now learn that in the three cases in which a gun was found in the victim’s hand, you have a 33 per cent failure rate as an expert witness.’

Harry didn’t comment, as Sir Toby knew he wouldn’t.

‘And as a result, an innocent man spent eleven years in jail.’ Sir Toby switched his attention to the jury and said quietly, ‘Professor Bamford, let us hope that an innocent woman isn’t about to spend the rest of her life in jail because of the opinion of an “expert witness” who manages to get it wrong 33 per cent of the time.’

Mr Lennox rose to his feet to protest at the treatment the witness was being made to endure, and Mr Justice Fairborough wagged an admonishing finger. ‘That was an improper comment, Sir Toby,’ he warned.

But Sir Toby’s eyes remained on the jury, who no longer hung on the expert witness’s every word, but were now whispering among themselves.

Sir Toby slowly resumed his seat. ‘No more questions, m’lud.’

‘Damn good shot,’ said Toby, as Harry’s ball disappeared into the cup on the eighteenth hole. ‘Lunch on me again, I fear. You know, I haven’t beaten you for weeks, Harry.’