A Mind to Kill

Chapter Twenty-two

So today she was going to face two enemies, one she would be able to see as well as listen to, the other only hear. Double torture, double humiliation: closing in, almost overwhelming despair that for the last thirty minutes she’d come near to giving in to. Quite apart – uncaring even – from Jane being aware of every mental reflection, Jennifer found it difficult to hold any thought. Which wasn’t the chlordiazepoxide that Jane had again made her choke to the point of vomiting against taking. That hadn’t had time to take effect. She was still thickheaded, that cotton-wool feeling, from the drug the matron had given her the previous night. Her pubic hair had still been slimed with whatever the woman had used for the game she’d played with her, after making her unconscious with the injection. But there’d been no soreness so Jennifer didn’t think she’d been fingered or abused by anyone other than Beryl Harrison. Still more humiliation.

The warning of Rebecca Nicholls being the first witness to the actual murder had come from Jeremy Hall’s cell visit, after her arrival from prison that morning. The barrister was still flushed from his pre-hearing encounter at which he’d told the judge of Jennifer’s continued refusal to change her plea. Sir Ivan Jarvis’s alternative, to foreshorten what again he’d called a music-hall instead of a trial, had been to cut by half the number of trading-floor witnesses with virtually identical accounts of the killing.

The fast-footed, headline-conscious Simon Keflin-Brown had instantly agreed and nominated Rebecca to be the first, guaranteeing the continuation of coverage that had exceeded either his or John Bentley’s expectations – and hopes – that morning. All the tabloids had led with the previous day’s hearing – Murder by Possession was one slogan, Murder in Mind another – and almost every newspaper carried collected photographs of Jennifer, Jane and Rebecca. Inevitably, the captions had referred to eternal triangles. The motherly wardress (‘It’s Ann: Ann Wardle. I’ve got a son who’s ill like you,’) had shown her the Daily Mirror on their way from the prison. All three photographs had been taken in happier, laughing times: assured, confident women, women upon whom no misfortune could ever fall.

Despite the woolly-headed feeling – and not knowing then that she would be confronting Rebecca – Jennifer had tried as hard with her appearance as the previous day, although she accepted, bitterly, just how far short she was of how she’d looked in the pictures the newspapers had obtained.

She’d bribed her way into the bathroom again, carrying today’s grey suit and black shirt which wouldn’t so easily show her sweating or slobbering, and not just to prepare herself behind a locked door but to douche herself from whatever she’d been subjected to, by the matron. There was a sanitary pad dispenser and Jennifer took one and lined her pants, against Jane’s threat to make her disgrace herself in the dock. She’d also brought several handkerchiefs, two of which Ann now carried escorting her along the corridor, towards the dock steps. The wardress also had the two Jeremy Hall had brought for her during their brief meeting.

‘Just do your best,’ he’d said, reaching across the battered cell table to squeeze her hands lightly in encouragement.

‘I ache all over from yesterday. From trying to hold myself against what she might do.’

‘Anything?’ He was glad Perry wasn’t in the cell, with his unnecessarily impatient sighs. There was no harm in humouring her: in trying to help her through. Jarvis had been furious at the refusal to alter her plea. He was going to be even more of a cantankerous bastard than he had the previous day.

‘She’s been humming, like she’s pleased with herself.’

‘ I am pleased with myself. Every reason to be. But what’s all this band-holding? Someone else trying to get inside your pants? Going to get crowded in there, isn’t it? ’

‘Just try your best,’ repeated Hall, at a loss for anything else to say. ‘That’s all you can do.’

‘I am making myself look a fool, aren’t I?’ That was at the brink of despair.

‘I could go back to the judge, even now,’ offered Hall, hopefully.

‘No!’ she’d determined, pulling back. ‘No!’

And now she was walking towards the bear pit, to be taunted and prodded and reduced to a sniggering, pitiful joke. At the bottom of the dock steps Jennifer hesitated, momentarily refusing – frightened – to ascend.

‘Up we go, love. Come on,’ urged Ann.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘You haven’t got a choice. Come on.’

With leaden feet, at last beginning to feel the Librium, Jennifer climbed, aware of the buzzed expectation as she got to the court level. As she became visible the noise grew, an excited, mob-like sound. Probably just like a bear-pit anticipation, she thought. Or maybe the entry into a Roman arena of a victim who didn’t stand a chance of escape.

‘ You don’t. I keep telling you that. I don’t think we’ll make a fool of you just yet, not until Rebecca. Let’s keep them in suspense .’

Rebecca Nicholls looked sensational and Jane said, ‘ Holy shit, she’s fantastic! And dressed to make you look a klutz.’

Rebecca’s hair, a darker, artificial blond against Jennifer’s natural colour, was cut severely into her neck, around which there was just a single strand of plaited gold. The dress was black and figure-hugging, belted again by a gold strand. She took the oath with her left hand resting prominently on the edge of the witness-box, displaying on her engagement finger a diamond ring that was her only jewellery. Having returned the Bible to the usher she began playing with the ring with her other hand, drawing attention to it. She stood staring defiantly at Jennifer, the expression carefully balanced between haughtiness and contemptuous revulsion.

‘ Great tits. Gerald always was a tit man, wasn’t he? That and cunt-sucking. You think he did that with her? Sure he did. She probably gave him head, too. Nose to tail, like a couple of vacuum cleaners.’

Jennifer held herself in her rigid pose, gripping the seat edge, legs entwined. The press concentration was entirely upon Rebecca, the same artists as the previous day sketching rapidly.

Keflin-Brown was on his feet, the consummate ringmaster about to present his best act. The barrister took Rebecca smoothly through her Euro-Corps career, demanding suddenly: ‘And now you’re acknowledged its leading trader?’

The question seemed to surprise everyone as much as Rebecca. She said, ‘I’ve achieved the highest commission over three successive years, yes.’

‘As Mrs Lomax did, before her marriage?’

‘I fail to see the relevance of that question,’ protested Hall, quickly standing.

‘A question of resentment, jealousy, at being replaced in every way?’ suggested the older barrister.

‘I see no problem with it…’ began the judge and then ‘Oh, Mr Hall, really!’

Ann thrust a handkerchief into Jennifer’s hand. As she mopped her face she saw Rebecca look at her, lip curled in disgust. Now her make-up would be smeared, Jennifer thought.

‘ Like a clown’s,’ agreed Jane.

Jennifer felt her body being thrown to the left and tensed as hard as she could against it. Abruptly the sensation reversed and she went violently to the right, propelled by her own strength. Ann grabbed her. When Jennifer righted herself Rebecca was faintly smirking.

‘So you replaced Mrs Lomax in more ways than one?’ scored Keflin-Brown.

‘I became the top trader,’ said Rebecca, stiffly.

‘ On top of the boss.’

‘You were, in fact, working on the trading floor on the day of Gerald Lomax’s death?’

‘Yes.’ Some of the confidence went out of the woman.

‘Describe it to us,’ demanded Keflin-Brown.

‘It was two-forty. We’re very conscious of precise time: that’s how trades are recorded. There are clocks on the wall, directly beneath Gerry’s office, showing the time variations in every major financial centre of the World…’ began Rebecca, her presentation perfect.

‘ I bet she’s rehearsed, in front of a mirror. Look at her, performing for the newspapers! ’

It was exactly what the woman was doing, Jennifer saw. Rebecca was turned slightly away from the judge, more interested in addressing the scribbling gallery.

‘… I wasn’t aware of Mrs Lomax coming out of the elevator on the mezzanine floor above, but I was conscious of other traders looking up so I did and I saw her…’

‘… Through the all-glass design of the office?’

‘Yes.’

‘You were able to see everything, in perfect and clear detail?’

‘Yes. As she walked, Mrs Lomax was tapping her fingers against the corridor wall. That’s what attracted the people who saw her first.’

‘Which hand was she tapping with?’

‘Her right. It had to be, because of the approach from the elevator.’

‘Where was her left?’

‘It appeared to be inside a large shoulder bag.’

‘Did she look down at you?’

‘Not then. She was staring straight ahead.’

‘ My little robot.’

‘Go on.’

‘I saw her walk into Gerald’s office. He got up, to meet her…’ Rebecca stopped, putting her hand to her face, shoulders heaving. There were no tears.

‘ Worth a fucking Oscar.’

‘Are you all right?’ enquired the barrister.

Rebecca nodded, without replying. After several moments she went on, quiet-voiced, ‘It was awful. Terrible. She suddenly had a knife in her hand-’

This knife?’ interrupted Keflin-Brown, gesturing the court usher, who rose and offered the plastic-enveloped exhibit to the woman. There was still blood on the blade.

Rebecca physically recoiled. ‘That looks like it.’

‘What then?’

‘I didn’t see where it came from. It was just there, in her hand

…’ Rebecca’s lip quivered. ‘She began slashing and cutting him with it. Stabbing. Wouldn’t stop…’ She broke off again, both hands up against her mouth, the left hand on the outside with the ring visible. ‘… She just wouldn’t stop! He tried to fight her but she’d stabbed him a lot. There was…’ Another gulped break. ‘… blood everywhere. Spurting. Hitting the window…’

‘ Say wonderful! ’ shouted Jane.

Jennifer was totally engrossed in the horror, hand-hold even relaxed. ‘Wonderf…’ came out before she could prevent it, sufficient for everyone to decipher the bitten off word.

Perry swivelled, making waving-down gestures.

Jarvis said, ‘Mr Hall! One more outburst and I will send your client down into the cells! And that’s my last warning.’

‘ Ah. Don’t want that. You’ve got to stay up here, where everyone can see you. Santa’s little helper’s just saved you, Jennifer. What about that? ’

Perry was at the dock rail. ‘I know it’s difficult but please try to control yourself.’ The stage whisper easily reached the tightly packed journalists.

Jennifer nodded. ‘She doesn’t want me out of court.’

‘The accused said something, Mr Hall?’ demanded Jarvis.

Perry bustled back, cupping his hand to Jeremy Hall’s ear. The young barrister turned back to the judge and said, ‘My client promises not to interrupt again, my Lord.’

‘She doesn’t have a choice,’ said the small man, nodding to Keflin-Brown.

‘Go on, if you can,’ urged the barrister.

‘… It was terrible. Obscene. Just stabbing and blood. Blood everywhere. Then Gerald stopped fighting. Stopped moving…’

‘What was the next thing to happen?’

‘She came and stood at the window, laughing. Just stared down at us and laughed and laughed…’

‘ Christ, I enjoyed that. Looking down at the stupid fuckers.’

‘How, exactly, did she stand, Ms Nicholls?’

‘With her hands outstretched, against the window. Supporting herself… People began running then. Roger… Roger Jones, the floor manager, began going upstairs. Someone had already rung the police.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Stayed where I was.’

‘Why?’

‘I didn’t think there was anything I could do. Others were following Roger.’

‘Was that the only reason you didn’t go upstairs, Ms Nicholls?’

‘I was frightened.’

‘I’m sure everyone was frightened. Was there any particular reason for your being more frightened than anyone else?’

‘ Doesn’t your heart go out to her! ’

‘Perhaps,’ said Rebecca, hushed-voiced again.

‘ Last time I saw a performance like this it really did win an Oscar. ’

‘You were Gerald Lomax’s lover, weren’t you?’ said Keflin-Brown, the tone almost as if he were confronting a hostile witness.

‘Yes.’

‘For how long?’

‘Four years.’

‘Not four and a half years?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘How long had you been aware that Mrs Lomax had learned of your relationship with her husband?’

‘Objection, my Lord!’ protested Hall. ‘This court has had no evidence of Mrs Lomax knowing of an affair between her husband and Ms Nicholls.’

‘Let’s get things in their proper sequence, shall we, Mr Keflin-Brown?’ sighed Jarvis.

‘I beg the court’s indulgence,’ said the barrister. ‘A regrettable oversight. Allow me to rephrase the question.’

‘ Too late for it not to have been heard and taken on board by every member of the jury.’

‘Did you have any reason to believe Mrs Lomax knew of your affair with her husband?’

‘Not positively.’

‘Not positively?’ echoed the lawyer. ‘What then? How then?’

‘We’d talked about it, Gerald and I.’

‘Talked about what?’

‘His telling her he wanted a divorce.’

No! thought Jennifer, anguished. Please no. Wasn’t true. Couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t have abandoned her. Abandoned Emily. Already decided that. Decided it was impossible. Just sex. Nothing else. Sex.

‘ Just like it was with me: going to dump you just like the two of you dumped me. What a shit! Think you’d have lived, Jennifer? Just think: I could have saved your life by killing him. He had to die though. Everything’s working out exactly as I planned.’

In the well of the court Hall was studying Rebecca Nicholls’ sworn statement to Superintendent Bentley.

‘Did he?’ asked Keflin-Brown.

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’re wearing a very beautiful ring. Diamonds, are they not, around a central stone?’

Jennifer closed her eyes, trying to shut out the sight of Rebecca and the ring and the court: shut out everything to curl up into the smallest ball that no-one could see and die. Why fight any more? No point. Give up. Plead however Jeremy Hall wanted her to plead and be sent somewhere as a sex toy, to be played with. Emily, she remembered. Had to survive – to fight – so there was someone to look after Emily. Jennifer waited for the taunt but Jane put no thoughts in her head.

‘ You’re doing fine, torturing yourself. ’

‘Who bought that ring for you, Ms Nicholls?’

‘Gerry.’

‘Does it have a particular significance?’

‘He bought it for me when we talked of getting married.’

‘An engagement ring, in fact?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you think, when you saw what Jennifer Lomax did to her husband that dreadful day in the office of Euro-Corps?’

‘That he had told her.’

‘And were you too frightened to go up to where your lover – your future husband – lay dying because you were afraid she’d try to kill you, too?’

‘Yes.’ Rebecca looked away from the press gallery, to stare directly and accusingly at Jennifer.

‘There is a child, a daughter, from Mr Lomax’s marriage to the accused, isn’t there?’

‘Emily,’ confirmed the woman.

A fury, a hatred, boiled up within Jennifer. She began physically to shake, without encouragement from Jane.

‘ That’s how I felt, Jennifer. Worse than you, even. That’s why I killed Gerald and why I’m doing what I am to you. Balancing the score. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Only fair, after what you did .’

‘Steady,’ hissed Ann, close beside her. ‘Calm down.’

‘You are, in fact, Emily’s godmother, are you not?’

‘Yes.’

‘A child you love, like your own.’

‘Yes.’

Jennifer’s shaking worsened and she felt Ann’s hand on her arm, restraining her.

‘Was there any discussion between you and Mr Lomax about Emily?’

‘He said whatever happened he couldn’t give her up: that Emily was his life. And that he’d make Jennifer agree to his having Emily with us.’

Jennifer felt an emptiness, a void. He couldn’t have been this cruel. He would have had to hate her to be this cruel: to have used her, like the matron and Emma and Fran and Harriet used her.

‘ That’s it, Jennifer: that’s what it was, all the time. Still think you’re the luckiest woman in the world?’

‘What was Mr Lomax’s intention, as far as you were aware?’

Rebecca remained staring straight at the dock, the look of contempt on her face again. ‘As far as I was aware Gerald intended divorcing Jennifer and getting custody of Emily. And then we would marry.’

‘ Left with nothing! Tossed out, with the garbage. ’

‘And for the three of you to become a family?’

‘Yes.’ Rebecca’s voice was soft again, trembling with the uncertainty of a happiness she’d now never achieve.

‘Gerald would have told Mrs Lomax what he intended with the child, as well as wanting a divorce, wouldn’t he?’

‘Objection!’ protested Hall. ‘There is no way the witness can speculate about a conversation, if any, between Mr and Mrs Lomax.’

‘Mr Keflin-Brown,’ rebuked the judge, mildly.

‘I beg the court’s indulgence and of course withdraw the question

…’ apologized the older barrister.

‘ Too late. Motive all sorted and made perfectly clear. You’re for the drop, Jennifer. Would have been if they still hanged murderers.’

‘… and I have no further questions,’ the man concluded, surrendering Rebecca Nicholls to cross-examination like a well-chewed bone upon which there was no meat left.

‘You haven’t the slightest idea – any way of knowing – if Gerald Lomax confessed his adultery to his wife, have you?’ attacked Jeremy Hall, at once.

‘We’d talked about his doing so.’

‘But you don’t know that he had done it?’

‘No.’

Hall lifted Rebecca’s statement from the mound of papers in front of him, hefting it as if testing its weight to attract the jury’s interest. ‘What you’ve told the court today is at considerable variance with what you told Superintendent Bentley, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘You don’t remember?’

‘I had just seen the man I loved slaughtered, in front of my eyes! Seen his blood burst everywhere!’

‘No, you hadn’t! Your full statement was made to Superintendent Bentley several days after that.’

‘I still don’t remember.’

There was a tug at Jennifer’s elbow, with the hand offering the handkerchief. Hurriedly she dried herself. Jane said, ‘ I’m not going to have you taken out of court but everyone’s still got to think you’re a drooling idiot.’

‘Then let me help you, Ms Nicholls,’ offered Hall, beckoning the usher. ‘I’ve marked a section, at the top of the third page: the page of a statement you’ve signed and agreed as an accurate account of your conversation with Superintendent Bentley. Doesn’t that marked section say, and I quote, “But Jennifer never knew”?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s very different from what you’re asking the jury to believe today, isn’t it, Ms Nicholls?’

‘I was still in shock. I’ve had time to think about it, since.’

‘I quote again, from a paragraph marked just a little lower from that to which I’ve referred. Doesn’t that say “She didn’t kill Gerry because of me”?’

‘Yes. But I told the police he’d promised me he would get a divorce.’

‘But didn’t you also say, in the third marked passage, that Gerald Lomax had not told his wife of your affair. Or asked for a divorce. And didn’t you go on to say – and again, my Lord, I quote – “He said he’d tell me before he did. But he didn’t say anything. So he didn’t”?’

‘I may have done.’

‘Ms Nicholls, it’s in a statement you signed as an accurate account of your conversation with the superintendent.’

‘I’ve told you, I was still shocked!’

‘You’d been with Gerald Lomax the night before he was killed, hadn’t you? Like you were every night when he remained in London?’

‘Yes.’

‘In his flat?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you make love?’

‘Mr Hall!’ interrupted the judge, while Keflin-Brown was still only halfway to his feet. ‘Is there a point to this line of questioning?’

‘An extremely important one,’ insisted Hall. He had no intention of considering it after the inevitable result of the trial, because it would not be in Jennifer Lomax’s interest, but he was convinced that by now the transcript would already show sufficient unfair bias for an appeal to be lodged.

‘Be very careful, Mr Hall. I shall be paying particular attention,’ said Jarvis.

‘You slept with Gerald Lomax the night before he died?’ resumed Hall.

‘Yes.’ Rebecca was tiny-voiced again.

‘You had no secrets from each other, did you?’

‘No.’

‘And he’d promised to tell you, before he asked Jennifer for a divorce?’

‘Yes.’

‘And he did want to marry you?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘To clear the way for you and he to marry, a divorce would have been the most important thing in Gerald Lomax’s life at that moment, wouldn’t it! He’d promised to tell you. You had no secrets from each other. Yet the night before he was murdered – by a woman it is being suggested was driven to kill by insane jealousy – in the intimate surroundings of the bedroom, he said nothing to you whatsoever about having confessed his adultery to his wife?’

‘No.’ There was very little defiance any more and practically no voice.

‘So he hadn’t told Jennifer Lomax what would have caused her to commit this terrible crime, had he? This whole-’

‘My Lord,’ broke in Keflin-Brown. ‘How can this witness testify to what might or might not have taken place when she was not in Hampshire the previous weekend?’

‘That was an inept question, Mr Hall,’ criticized the judge.

‘Questioning an inference that the jury have been asked to draw from uncorroborated testimony in Ms Nicholls’ evidence-in-chief,’ fought back Hall, refusing to be bullied. ‘But let me try to find my answer from a different direction. To your knowledge, had Gerald Lomax ever deceived you?’

‘ Wonder who else he was screwing. There would have had to be someone, wouldn’t there?’

‘No.’

‘ Doesn’t know him like we do, does she?’

‘Held anything back from you?’

‘No.’

‘Broken a promise to you?’

‘No.’

‘He had promised to alert you, in advance, of his confessing everything to Mrs Lomax and demanding the divorce that would give him custody of Emily?’

‘Yes.’

‘But had not, at any time prior to the murder, told you that he had done so?’

‘No.’

‘That is a very beautiful ring. When did you buy it?’

‘I told you, when we talked about getting married.’

‘That wasn’t the question. What was the date when you bought it?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Ms Nicholls! You’ve told the court it’s your engagement ring, the token of your intended marriage. Buying it was surely one of the most significant moments of your life?’

‘We are meandering towards a point, aren’t we, Mr Hall?’ demanded the judge.

Bastard! thought Hall, curbing the frustrated anger the moment it came. ‘Hopefully, my Lord.’

‘An ambition shared by us both.’

‘Then perhaps I can continue, my Lord?’ Hall allowed himself, careless of the immediate tightening of Jarvis’s face. ‘Wasn’t it a moment to remember, Ms Nicholls?’

‘Yes.’

‘So when was it?’

‘Five or six months ago.’

‘Still not sure,’ said Hall. ‘Was it a surprise, given to you over a candle-lit dinner? Or did you buy it together?’

‘We bought it together.’

‘And you’ve worn it ever since? For five or six months?’

‘Yes.’

‘So people you work with would have noticed it. It is, after all, a very distinctive piece of jewellery. They would probably be able to give an even more reliable timing than five or six months.’

‘ I can see where he’s getting to, can’t you? Clever bastard, isn’t he? Pity there’s nothing he can do to help you.’

‘Maybe. You’ll have to ask them.’

‘I intend to, Ms Nicholls. Every one of them who’s called to give evidence after you. You sure you can’t give a more specific date?’

‘No.’

‘What shop did you buy it in?’

The woman began nipping her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘Garrards.’

‘Who will, of course, have a record of the sale. So we can establish a positive date by simply approaching them, can’t we?’

‘ That’s you fucked, Rebecca. He really is a clever bastard.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Would it embarrass you if I did indeed obtain a sales receipt?’

‘No.’ There was no longer any defiance. Rebecca Nicholls was blinking a lot, constantly nibbling her lower lip, several times looking nervously towards the judge, who had stopped intervening.

‘Wouldn’t such a receipt show that your ring is a much more recent acquisition?’

‘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.