by Peter Murphy
‘In the intervening period, on how many occasions did you speak to Henry?’
‘I spoke to Henry twice before 28 April,’ she replied. ‘The first occasion was the first individual interview at his home in Alwyne Road. That was the following Tuesday, 13 April. I had arranged that meeting while we were at court.’
‘Yes. And for how long did that interview last?’
‘Between 45 minutes and an hour.’
‘Was there any other meeting with Henry before 28 April?’
‘Yes. At the first meeting, Henry had invited me to visit his garage in King Henry’s Walk, to verify that he had a successful business. That was relevant to his financial situation.’
‘Did you do that?’
‘Yes, I did, a week later, on 20 April. But that was quite a short visit, probably no more than 20 to 25 minutes, and we didn’t really talk about anything except the work he was doing. I also met one or two of his employees.’
‘So, would it be fair to say that, as far as the question of the children was concerned, the only chance you had to speak to Henry before 28 April was the meeting on 13 April, which you told us lasted between 45 minutes and an hour?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mrs Cameron, would you agree that in those circumstances, you’d only had a very limited opportunity to assess Henry in terms of his behaviour, his personality, and so on?’
‘I would agree with that. Yes.’
‘You couldn’t have based a report to Mr Justice Wesley on that alone, could you?’
‘No. Certainly not. I needed at least one meeting with Henry and Susan together, and I would have had at least one further meeting with Henry on his own.’
‘I want to ask you a bit more about the meeting on 13 April. When you held that meeting, you hadn’t yet spoken with Susan, had you?’
‘No. I hadn’t.’
‘Because, as you explained to us, you would first interview whichever party had started the proceedings, and in this case, that was Henry?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you had read the affidavits Henry and Susan had sworn and filed with the court?’
‘Yes, I had read the court’s entire file, including the affidavits.’
‘And having read Susan’s affidavit, you knew that she was accusing him of hitting her during some violent arguments in their flat in Alwyne Road before she moved out?’
‘I was aware that she was claiming to have been hit, yes.’
‘Did you ask Henry about that?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘What did he say about it?’
‘He said that there had been arguments between them that had got pretty loud, but he denied ever having hit her.’
‘He denied it emphatically, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, that would be fair.’
‘You had also read Henry’s affidavit, and you knew that he was making certain allegations against Susan, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘He was accusing her of neglecting the children?’
‘Yes.’
‘He was accusing her of staying out late and drinking too much on a regular basis?’
‘Yes.’
‘He was accusing her of taking drugs, and associating with men who dealt drugs. Isn’t that right?’
She hesitated.
‘I had no means of –’
‘I understand that, Mrs Cameron. Of course, you had no way of verifying it. But that’s what Henry said in his affidavit, and that’s what he told you during the meeting on 13 April, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that kind of allegation would be very significant, wouldn’t it? The judge would have to take that kind of allegation very seriously, wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘When did you have your first interview with Susan?’
‘Two days later, on 15 April.’
‘Did you put those allegations to her?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘What did she tell you about them?’
She hesitated.
‘I’m very uncomfortable about getting into this when Susan isn’t here to defend herself. Our conversation was confidential.’
‘I understand,’ Ben replied. ‘My learned friend Mr Pilkington will object if I ask you anything I shouldn’t, but as you told us earlier, there was no privilege involved, was there? Susan understood that you might have to repeat what she said in certain circumstances.’
‘If it was relevant to the welfare of the children, yes. That’s no longer the case now.’
Both the judge and the witness were looking at Andrew Pilkington, who remained in his seat. There was a silence.
‘Are you going to object, Mr Pilkington?’ the judge asked eventually.
Andrew stood.
‘No, my Lord. Of course, I’m not aware of the nature of the defence in any detail, but it seems to me that my learned friend is entitled to ask about this if he thinks it may be relevant.’
‘Even if the conversations were confidential?’
‘Even then, my Lord. I’m not suggesting that the court should not respect confidentiality when it can, but if there’s no legal privilege, the defence is entitled to present any relevant evidence. If your Lordship wishes, we can ask the jury to retire and I will refer your Lordship to Archbold.’
Mr Justice Rainer considered for some time.
‘No, I’m sure you’re right, Mr Pilkington.’ He looked down towards Wendy Cameron. ‘I’m afraid you will have to answer the question.’
She nodded.
‘Susan admitted that she liked to go out with friends, and she admitted that she would sometimes drink a bit too much. But she insisted that the children were being looked after every moment she was away, usually by her parents.’
‘What did she say about the suggestion that she was taking drugs?’
‘She denied it.’
‘What about the suggestion that some of the men she regarded as friends, and went out with at night, were drug dealers?’
‘She denied any knowledge of that.’
‘What about the suggestion that she was sleeping with some of these men?’
She reacted angrily.
‘I can’t see how that can possibly be relevant,’ she replied.
‘Neither can I, Mr Schroeder,’ the judge added.
‘Again, my Lord,’ Ben said, ‘my learned friend will object if he thinks I’m going too far. But the question the jury have to decide is one of provocation, and if I am allowed to continue, the relevance of the evidence will become clear in due course. If your Lordship wishes to hear argument in the absence of the jury…’
Again, Andrew Pilkington remained in his seat.
‘Very well, Mr Schroeder, continue for the time being.’
‘I am much obliged. Mrs Cameron?’
‘She admitted that she had slept with one or two other men,’ she replied reluctantly.
Ben glanced over at the jury. As he had anticipated, they were fully alert and taking notes.
‘Was that something that might have been relevant to the question of custody that Mr Justice Wesley had to decide?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you aware that Susan Lang had been smoking cannabis on 28 April, before she came to your house for the meeting?’
The witness looked genuinely shocked.
‘No. I…’
‘My Lord, I’m not sure the evidence quite justifies that conclusion,’ Andrew said, rising slowly to his feet.
‘I will rephrase the question,’ Ben volunteered. ‘Have you been told that when the police searched Susan’s car on that day, they found a joint containing a mixture of tobacco and cannabis?’
‘No. I have not been told that.’
‘Have you been told that when the police looked inside her handbag – the handbag she had with her during the meeting – they found a bag containing a white powder, which was analysed and found to include almost four grams of cocaine of about 40 per cent purity?’
She turned pale.
‘No. I…’
‘So you had no reason to suspect that Susan Lang was taking drugs? She denied it?’
‘Yes.’
‘If you had known that she was smoking cannabis or taking cocaine, was that something you would have brought to Mr Justice Wesley’s attention?’
‘Of course.’
‘Did Susan mention a man called Daniel Cleary, otherwise known as “Danny Ice”, as being one of her friends?’
Mr Justice Rainer looked up sharply.
‘What? Who?’
Every eye in the courtroom turned to him.
‘I… I’m sorry… I didn’t quite get the name,’ he said. ‘I have to make a note. Daniel…?’
‘I’m sorry, my Lord,’ Ben replied. ‘Daniel Cleary, C.L.E.A.R.Y. I am instructed that his nickname is “Danny Ice”.’
The judge appeared to make a careful note.
‘Thank you.’
‘Mrs Cameron, does that name ring a bell?’ Ben asked.
‘No,’ she replied, ‘I’m not sure she gave me the name of any of her friends, except for one woman – who she said could verify that Susan had complained to her about being hit.’
‘Did she ever tell you that this man Daniel Cleary had made threats against Henry Lang?’
‘Threats?’ the judge asked. ‘What kind of threats?’
‘Threats of violence, my Lord,’ Ben replied.
‘No,’ Wendy Cameron said, ‘I never heard about any threats being made against Henry by anyone.’
As Ben paused to look at his notes and consult in a whisper with Jess, Harriet Fisk quietly left her seat at the back of the public gallery to return to chambers.
39
‘Let me turn to something else,’ Ben said. ‘My learned friend asked you what Henry was wearing when he came to your house on 28 April, do you remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you told my learned friend that Henry had been wearing a raincoat, which he took off and hung up himself?’
‘Yes.’
‘You were careful to emphasise that he hung it up himself, and that you had not taken it from him.’
‘That’s what Mr Pilkington asked me.’
Ben smiled. ‘Fair point. You were just answering the questions put to you. I accept that, of course. But what you were trying to suggest was that Henry must have been wearing the raincoat only because it gave him a place to conceal the knife during the meeting. Would that be fair?’
‘Well…’
‘Let me help you. You didn’t see the knife anywhere else on his person, did you?’
‘No.’
‘You told the jury you thought it was rather strange that he was wearing a raincoat because it was a warm day?’
‘Yes.’
‘And yet, when you were watching Henry sitting on the ground after he had stabbed Susan, it began to rain, did it not?’
She thought for some time, and then nodded.
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Yes, you’re right, there was a shower. I’d forgotten that.’
‘By the time of the meeting on 28 April, had you come to any conclusions at all about the recommendations you were going to make to Mr Justice Wesley?’
‘You mean, about custody of the children?’
‘Yes.’
‘No. I had much more work to do before I could think in terms of recommendations. Besides, judges vary in the kind of recommendations they like you to make. Some – the more senior judges usually – don’t want you to say very much. They like you to give them a factual report and leave them to draw their own conclusions. But there are some who like you to spell it out for them a bit more. What Mr Justice Wesley may prefer, I can’t say. He’s a fairly new appointment, and I hadn’t worked with him before, so I would probably have been quite conservative in the way I expressed myself. But I was nowhere near that stage.’
‘But it would be fair, wouldn’t it, to say that you had a few thoughts in your mind about Henry, as far as custody was concerned? You know, don’t you, that the High Court has allowed us to see the notes you made as you went along, which you had in your file?’
She coloured slightly.
‘Yes. I am aware of that.’
‘Do you have a copy of your notes with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it fair to say that you were satisfied about Henry from the point of view of what I might call his material circumstances – his home, the amount of money he was making, and so on?’
‘Oh, yes, very much so. The children would never have wanted for anything if he had custody, and he had a sensible view about their education. He was very aware of the schools in the area, which were the best, and so on. In fact, they had been doing well in all those respects before Susan took them away.’
‘And yet, you had a reservation about him, didn’t you?’
‘Well…’
‘You were worried about how intense he was about the question of custody. You said so today in answer to my learned friend, and it is recorded in your notes, isn’t it? You describe Henry as being “almost too quiet”, “brooding”, and having “feelings that run very deep”. You were worried about a possible loss of self-control, weren’t you?’
She hesitated.
‘You must understand that I never expected anything like what happened…’
‘I do understand that, Mrs Cameron. But Susan had complained that he had hit her; you sensed that he might have a short fuse when it came to the children. That must have caused you some concern?’
‘Yes, it did. It was something that concerned me. But as I said before, she knew exactly how to wind him up. Away from her, and once the proceedings were over, he would have settled down. Most parents have strong views about the custody of their children. There’s nothing unusual about that. It was just that, in Henry’s case, while he was having to deal with her, there was always the potential for something to kick off. Even if the judge gave custody to him, he would still have to deal with her over access, so it was something I couldn’t ignore.’
‘All right. Let me ask you this. Reading your notes, it seems that when Henry talked about the children, he almost always referred to them as “my children” – not “our children” or even “the children”. You’ve underlined the word “my” more than once, haven’t you?’
‘Yes. But again, that’s not unusual in custody cases. Parents do tend to get a bit proprietary about their children when they’re talking about where they should live, and it’s not uncommon for them to downplay the other parent’s involvement with the children.’
‘I accept that, Mrs Cameron. But when you combine that with Henry’s intensity, wouldn’t you agree that this man, for whatever reason, thought of himself as their real parent, if I can put it in that way? Didn’t he think that Susan had in a sense disqualified herself because of her lifestyle?’
‘He certainly felt that way about Susan. Yes, I would agree with that.’
‘You yourself would have brought her lifestyle to the judge’s attention, to the extent you were aware of it?’
‘Yes.’
‘And knowing what you now know about Susan’s lifestyle, Mrs Cameron, that was not an entirely unreasonable view for Henry to take, was it?’
‘I wouldn’t criticise him for thinking that.’
‘No. And in consequence, he thought of himself as the only parent who deserved custody? Would that also be fair?’
‘Yes, it would.’
‘Custody of “his” children?’
‘Yes. Always “his
” children.’
40
‘My Lord, I will call the next witness, Dr Joseph Wren,’ Andrew said.
Dr Wren, a short dapper man in his mid-sixties, dressed in a brown tweed suit with a light blue shirt and a blue and brown striped bow tie, skipped energetically into the witness box. He was carrying a green file folder, which he deposited on the edge of the box. He took the Bible in his hand and took the oath without being asked.
‘Joseph Wren, pathologist, my Lord,’ he said, nodding in the direction of the bench.
‘Thank you, Dr Wren. Would you please outline your qualifications for the jury?’
Ben had dealt with Dr Wren before, notably in the capital murder case of Billy Cottage some six years earlier. He stood at once.
‘My Lord, there’s no need for that as far as I am concerned. Dr Wren is a well-recognised and experienced expert witness, and his qualifications are not in doubt. Indeed, it may be helpful if I indicate that there is no dispute about the cause of death, and my learned friend may lead the witness if he wishes.’
‘I’m much obliged, ‘Andrew said. ‘Then let me ask you this, just so that the jury will understand what it is that you do. Is a pathologist a doctor who specialises in the examination of bodies and determines the cause of death?’
‘Among other things, yes.’
‘Yes, of course, I’m simplifying –’
‘For our purposes today, that is correct.’
‘And have you practised as a pathologist and have you given evidence in court about your findings on a regular basis for more than thirty years?’
‘Yes, I have. I also speak at various seminars, write articles for respected journals, and participate in training for younger colleagues, which are all things we are expected to do, in addition to our usual professional work.’
‘Thank you. Dr Wren, I see you have your file with you. Don’t hesitate to refer to it as and when you need to. Did you conduct the post-mortem examination of Susan Lang in this case?’
Dr Wren took his reading glasses from his inside pocket and put them on. He opened his file.
‘I did, my Lord. On Thursday 29 April of this year, at Guy’s hospital, I examined the lifeless body of a female identified to me as Susan Lang. The body appeared to be that of a well-nourished young woman of about 30 years of age. I was unable to make any meaningful observations about her pre-mortem state of health because of the extent of the injuries she had sustained, but the cause of death was clear almost immediately.’