To Cut a Long Story Short Read online

  ‘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.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that, Toby,’ said his golfing partner, as they headed back to the clubhouse. ‘How would you describe what you did to me in court on Thursday?’

  ‘Yes, I must apologise for that, old chap,’ said Toby. ‘Nothing personal, as you well know. Mind you, it was damn stupid of Lennox to select you as his expert witness in the first place.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Harry. ‘I did warn them that no one knew me better than you, but Lennox wasn’t interested in what happened on the North-Eastern Circuit.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have minded so much,’ said Toby, as he took his place for lunch, ‘if it hadn’t been for the fact …’

  ‘Hadn’t been for the fact … ?’ Harry repeated.

  ‘That in both cases, the one in Leeds and the one at the Bailey, any jury should have been able to see that my clients were as guilty as sin.’

  THE ENDGAME

  CORNELIUS BARRINGTON hesitated before he made his next move. He continued to study the board with great interest. The game had been going on for over two hours, and Cornelius was confident that he was only seven moves away from checkmate. He suspected that his opponent was also aware of the fact.

  Cornelius looked up and smiled across at Frank Vintcent, who was not only his oldest friend but had over the years, as the family solicitor, proved to be his wisest adviser. The two men had many things in common: their age, both over sixty; their background, both middle-class sons of professionals; they had been educated at the same school and at the same university. But there the similarities ended. For Cornelius was by nature an entrepreneur, a risk-taker, who had made his fortune mining in South Africa and Brazil. Frank was a solicitor by profession, cautious, slow to decision, fascinated by detail.

  Cornelius and Frank also differed in their physical appearance. Cornelius was tall, heavily built, with a head of silver hair many men half his age would have envied. Frank was slight, of medium stature, and apart from a semicircle of grey tufts, was almost completely bald.

  Cornelius had been widowed after four decades