A Mind to Kill

by Brian Freemantle

  Not good enough, Jane. Not even very funny. Panic. Not in control any more. Lost.

  ‘ We’ll see. ’

  We will. Tough shit, Jane. You’re fucked.

  There was almost a phosphorous whiteness from the intensity of the window-reflected camera flashes at their arrival. Jennifer descended confidently from the van but the moment she reached the ground all support left her legs. Only the quick reflexes of Ann Wardle kept her from collapsing on to the ground: as it was she went down heavily to her left, where the second wardress failed to catch her, and hit her knee with sickening hardness against a kerb edge. Her tights tore and her knee began to bleed, all strength and sensation gone from the leg. Jennifer was virtually carried into the building, arms around the necks of both wardresses who in turn linked their arms around Jennifer’s back to complete the bridge. The duty doctor was crouched in front of her, cleaning and dressing the darkly bruised cut, when Jeremy Hall entered the cell.

  ‘ Ask him! Demand to know! ’

  Instead Jennifer said: ‘She made me fall. She’s screaming to know what’s happened.’

  ‘I’m sure she is.’

  ‘ What! ’

  ‘She says she’s going to make me do worse things than attack Emily. That I’ll be in a mental hospital by tonight.’ He was somehow different. Not frightened of her – he was one of the few who had never been frightened of her – but somehow holding back. He wasn’t even leaning over the table towards her like he’d usually done, since the trial had begun.

  The hesitation was obvious, too, before he said, ‘I want her to do everything possible she can.’

  Jennifer looked at the barrister, aghast. ‘What?’

  ‘The more ridiculous she makes you look – the more outrageous the actions or the words – the better it is for us. Don’t fight against any of it, however bad it is. Do it and say it.’

  ‘ WHAT? ’

  ‘She’s screaming! Hurting my head again.’

  ‘Who or whatever is in your head is my defence witness now,’ insisted Hall. ‘Whatever she does or says is going to prove your total innocence. Do you hear that, Jennifer? I can prove you’re not guilty! Not just that. Prove you’re not mad, either.’

  ‘ NOoooooooo! ’

  The gossip of an impending although unidentified sensation inevitably came from the court officials and the anticipatory electricity was tangible when Jennifer entered the dock. The limp immediately became a cause for speculation, several journalists standing in the absence of the judge to crane over the dock rail in an effort to see the reason. Jennifer was tensed, nervous of an abrupt attack from Jane, but nothing came although she still had the tingling burn of Jane’s presence, more uncomfortable than usual. Her knee throbbed and had swollen tightly against the dressing. She was ready when the judge entered the court, grabbing out for the rail and glad of the wardresses close behind but there was no weakness in her legs. Despite what Hall had said in the cells below it was instinctive for her to grip the underside of the chair. Ann had the first handkerchief ready, in her lap. At Jennifer’s look the wardress shook her head, reassuringly.

  Jarvis cleared his throat, staring fixedly at Jennifer for several moments before turning to his right. In his strangely sonorous voice he said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, since the adjournment of this trial yesterday, certain matters have most forcibly been brought to my attention…’ He looked briefly down at Jeremy Hall, who was visibly hunched, like a runner eager to get off the blocks.

  ‘… In the light of what has emerged, overnight, it is necessary, in my view, to allow these matters to be fully and properly examined, in your presence. And for that examination to be conducted at this stage of the trial, instead of waiting for the prosecution to conclude its case and for the defence to present theirs, which would be the normal course of events…’

  The judge paused, to clear his throat again, and Jennifer was startled to see Perry turn and smile encouragingly at her. She was too surprised to respond.

  ‘… To that end,’ resumed Jarvis, ‘certain witnesses who have already given evidence will today be recalled, for their evidence to be explored more fully than it was when they first appeared. I will do my best to ensure that this is done in a comprehensible manner, to prevent this extremely unusual course causing you any confusion…’

  Briefly Jarvis’s attention switched to Hall, as if in warning. ‘… If, however, something emerges that any of you do not understand, I require you at once to advise me, through the court officials. At which time it will be clarified. Is that quite clear to all of you…?’

  There were uncertain nods throughout the jury. The press beehive hummed.

  ‘… We will pick up, however, with the witness who was giving evidence at the conclusion of yesterday’s hearing,’ announced Jarvis. ‘Doctor Peter Lloyd…’

  The hospital doctor re-entered the box, agreeing with a nod that he understood he was still bound by the oath he’d taken the previous day. Hall was already standing, waiting.

  ‘Doctor Lloyd,’ said Hall. ‘Your answer to my final question, yesterday, was that during the time she spent under your care a total of five separate blood tests were taken from the accused?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  Taken by you?’

  ‘Three were.’

  ‘Did you take the first, upon her admission?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That first test, upon her admission, would have been for a particular and specific purpose, would it not?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mrs Lomax had quite severe injuries, to her arms and hand. She’d lost blood. It was necessary to give her a transfusion.’

  ‘Before which you had to establish what?’

  ‘Her blood group.’

  ‘Why was it you who took that first sample?’

  ‘I was the duty emergency doctor that day.’

  ‘How long did it take pathology to identify Jennifer Lomax’s blood group?’

  Lloyd shrugged. ‘Maybe thirty minutes. As I’ve said, it was considered an emergency: there’s a fast-track system. By the time the wounds had been cleaned and Mrs Lomax prepared for surgery, we had the results.’

  ‘Which were?’

  ‘That Mrs Lomax’s blood group is B Rhesus Positive.’

  ‘Which was the blood you transfused?’

  Lloyd appeared surprised by the question. ‘Of course.’

  ‘What effect would there have been upon Mrs Lomax if blood other than B Rhesus Positive had been transfused?’

  The doctor appeared even more confused. ‘An extremely severe reaction. Anything else would have been incompatible. She would have gone into shock: could even have died from renal failure.’

  ‘But Mrs Lomax did not go into shock or suffer any adverse effects from your transfusion?’

  Lloyd shook his head, bewildered. ‘No.’

  ‘During the pathological examination of blood samples subsequently taken from Mrs Lomax, would the group always be identified?’

  ‘Yes. The check system requires it.’

  ‘Do the medical records in front of you show the blood group of those four other separate tests?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘The only group they could be, of course, B Rhesus Positive.’

  ‘Thank you, doctor. I am extremely obliged,’ said Hall, sitting. As he did so he turned invitingly to Keflin-Brown, who shook his head against any re-examination. After the constant groundswell of noise with which Jennifer had been surrounded on the previous two days, the court was now breathlessly silent as everyone tried to understand what was unfolding. The burn of Jane’s presence was definitely hotter and Jennifer felt herself sweating again. She reached out herself for the ever-ready handkerchief, using it to dab her upper lip and forehead. There was an unintended jerk, a twitch of frustration, but Jennifer easily kept her hand steady.

  ‘I call Professor Hewitt,’ announced Hall. He was enjoyi
ng 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?’

  ‘I do not make mistakes in my analys
es.’

  Jennifer couldn’t properly recognize the noise in her head. It was a groaned, near wailing sound: despair almost. Jennifer didn’t want to challenge at that moment – was still nervous of challenging – but she thought: Jane has lost. Not me that beat her. Jeremy Hall. But she’s lost. And then she waited for a diatribe but nothing came. There was still a tingle but her skin was much cooler, no longer physically irritating or sensitive to the touch.

  ‘I’m greatly obliged to you for establishing that in the court. You just didn’t lift blood from the window: you lifted the fingerprints picked out in that blood, didn’t you, doctor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Whose fingerprints?’

  ‘Mrs Lomax’s.’

  ‘What proof did you have that they were Mrs Lomax’s?’

  ‘They couldn’t have been anyone else’s!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘That’s where she’d stood, with her hands splayed against the window.’

  ‘You’d seen her stand like that?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

  ‘How do you know that’s how she’d stood?’

  Less belligerently, Billington said, ‘I was told, by the police.’

  ‘By whom, of the police, exactly?’

  ‘Detective Inspector Rodgers. He was there with Superintendent Bentley when I arrived.’

  ‘And they pointed out to you Mrs Lomax’s fingerprints on the window?’

  ‘She was slumped directly beneath them.’

  ‘That wasn’t my question, Doctor,’ said Hall, letting nothing slip past. ‘Did Superintendent Bentley and Inspector Rodgers identify fingerprints in blood upon the window as those of Mrs Lomax?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did they later provide officially taken fingerprints of Mrs Lomax, for you to make a scientific match?’

  Billington hesitated, looking for guidance to Keflin-Brown, who remained unhelpfully with his head sunk against his chest. Finally Billington said, ‘No.’