by Peter Murphy
He inhaled deeply from his cigarette and then exhaled. ‘That is why I invited Pilkington to mention it.’
Ben and Barratt looked at each other.
‘You might have told us beforehand,’ Barratt replied sheepishly.
Hardcastle dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stamped on it half-heartedly.
‘I’m sorry, Barratt,’ he replied. ‘It was all a bit frantic this morning, what with having to go to church and march in procession, and then talk to Pilkington. Skipped my mind, I’m afraid. Please understand that I have to take the lead on these things and make decisions. In this case, it was a rather last-minute decision.’ He raised a hand. ‘I’m sorry. I should have said something. I probably should have asked you what you thought.’
He took out another cigarette and lit it.
‘Allow me to redeem myself by asking your advice about something else. I am confident that I know the answer, but it is an important point. This afternoon, or tomorrow morning, the scene of crime officer is going to give evidence about finding Cottage’s fingerprint on the window ledge. We know that he cannot date the fingerprint and there is not a word in his report about how its position relates to the blood stain of Jennifer Doyce’s group found in the same place. In other words, the prosecution cannot prove whether the print got there before the stain, or the stain before the print, or whether both got there at the same time. My question is: do we leave that point unspoken, so that we deny the prosecution the chance to close that door on us? Or do we question him directly to establish the point beyond doubt, in which case he may try to finesse the issue and make the question come alive in the jury’s minds? There is always a case for letting sleeping dogs lie, but in this case…’
‘You must ask him about it directly,’ Ben replied, without hesitation. ‘It is not the kind of point the jury can follow unless we make it clear for them. He may try to finesse it, but it’s not in his report, and the science is against him. The text-books are on our side on this. I looked at them all. He can’t win that point.’
‘I agree,’ Barratt added.
Hardcastle nodded. ‘Then we are all agreed.’
Jess appeared from the direction of the George, walking quickly.
‘Sandwiches,’ she announced. ‘I’ve got roast beef, ham, or cheese. They wrapped them up for me, so I’m not quite sure which is which. There isn’t much time. Should we eat them out here?’
‘Well done, Jess,’ Barratt said. ‘How was Cottage when you left him?’
‘Not very good,’ Jess replied, with a glance at Hardcastle. ‘I told him we would all go to see him after court this afternoon.’
‘And we shall,’ Barratt said, unwrapping a ham sandwich. He took an appreciative bite. ‘It’s hard to believe, isn’t it, that murder is capital when it’s in the course or furtherance of theft, but not in the course or furtherance of rape?’
Hardcastle had selected cheese and was inspecting the sandwich carefully before committing himself to a bite. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Of course, Parliament intended that provision to deal with cases of armed robbery, not cases of snatching a trophy as an afterthought during another crime. But unfortunately, the wording they used fails to make that distinction.’
‘That doesn’t seem fair,’ Jess protested. ‘Especially in a case like this, when it’s obvious that the motive was rape, not theft.’
‘It’s not fair,’ Ben agreed. ‘But at least it gives us something to talk about in the Court of Criminal Appeal.’
‘Quite right,’ Hardcastle said. ‘But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
34
After lunch, Andrew Pilkington began with his evidence about the crime scene. First came Archie Knights who told the jury in graphic detail about what he had seen on board the Rosemary D. The jury sat grim-faced as he relived his shock and distress. Next came PC Willis and PC Hawthorne, who recounted the work they had done at the scene. PC Willis told how he had first assumed that Jennifer Doyce was dead but, as he was about to make his way back on deck to summon the forensic team, thought he saw the merest flicker of her eyelids. It had been difficult to see in such poor light, and he had wondered whether his eyes were deceiving him. But he had moved closer to Jennifer, and felt for a pulse. After some seconds her eyelids flickered again. He sent for the river ambulance, and she was taken to Addenbrookes Hospital in Cambridge. Martin Hardcastle asked no questions of any of these witnesses.
Pilkington had agreed that PC Willis would be recalled later to deal with the arrest and subsequent investigation, to maintain the chronology for the jury. At that time, Martin would have a number of questions.
‘My Lord, I now call Nathaniel Harding,’ Pilkington said.
Nathaniel Harding was a small, wiry man with prematurely greying hair and the faintest suggestion of a wispy moustache. He wore a navy blue blazer and dark grey slacks, a light grey tie with a printed anchor emblem in red. He took the oath in a low voice. The judge reminded him to keep his voice up. Slightly more loudly, he supplied Pilkington with his name and address.
‘What is your occupation, Mr Harding?’
‘I am now a freelance diver. I provide services to various commercial companies, as well as to the police, when required.’
‘What kinds of services do you provide?’
Harding shrugged. ‘It can be a lot of different things. If the owners of a vessel suspect damage to the hull, I may go down to take a look. Sometimes an anchor gets stuck and we have to find out why. Sometimes, I am asked to search for a particular item.’
‘What is your experience in this kind of work?’
‘I was a Royal Navy diver for almost twenty years. I retired with the rank of Chief Petty Officer.’
‘Did you see some service as a diver during the War?’
‘I did, sir, but you understand, I can’t talk about…’
‘No, no,’ Pilkington reassured him. ‘I was asking only for some background about your experience. I assume you have had extensive experience in the private sector since the War?’
‘I have, sir.’
‘Thank you. Now, coming to the present case, did the Huntingdonshire Police ask for your assistance in the course of their investigation?’
‘They did.’
‘And what were your instructions?’
‘I was asked to search an area of the river bed around a houseboat called the Rosemary D. She was moored on the north bank of the Great Ouse river about a mile east of St Ives, at a place known locally as Holywell Fen.’
‘When was this?’
‘The dive took place on Wednesday 29 January, in the afternoon.’
‘What were you asked to search for?’
‘I was asked to look for a heavy object which might have been used as a weapon on board the Rosemary D during the commission of violent crimes four days earlier.’
‘Did the police describe the item you were looking for in any more detail?’
‘No, sir. They just said it would be heavy. If I found anything answering to that general description I was to bring it up for further inspection.’
‘Did you have anyone working with you?’
‘Yes, we never dive alone. I would always have one colleague on board the vessel, and perhaps one in the water with me. In this case, my colleague Ivor Rees was with me. We took turns, one in the water, one controlling from on board.’
‘Did you find anything answering the description of the item you were asked to look for?’
Harding nodded. ‘I did, sir. To my surprise, I found something after quite a short time.’
‘Why was that surprising?’
‘Well, there are fairly strong currents around Holywell Fen. Ivor and I thought that even a heavy object might have drifted some distance downstream over a period of four days. So we were thinking it might take a day or two. But in fact, we got lucky.
’
‘What do you mean by that?’
Harding smiled. ‘Within half an hour, or forty minutes, we found an object which had become entangled in the anchor line and had then sunk into the silt. It wasn’t going anywhere.’
‘With the usher’s assistance…’
Paul rose at once from his seat in front of the bench, and took an item wrapped in a heavy plastic bag from the clerk’s table.
‘If you would please examine the item the usher is handing you, and tell me whether you recognise it? If you need to remove it from the bag let me know and the usher will do it for you wearing gloves. It may still have some chemicals on it from the forensic examination.’
Harding held the bag up to the light and peered through the plastic wrapping.
‘That is not necessary, sir. That is the item I found. It is a winch handle.’
‘My Lord, may that please become Exhibit Three?’
‘Exhibit Three,’ Mr Justice Lancaster confirmed.
‘I should have asked you this: how deep was the water you were searching by the boat?’
‘Not very deep at all, sir, five to six feet, I should estimate. But of course, it is very dark. We have to use powerful searchlights to see anything down there.’
‘When you brought the winch handle to the surface, did you notice anything about it?’
‘Yes, sir. I noticed some dark stains.’
‘The jury will see those with another witness. Finally, this: what did you do with Exhibit Three when you brought it on board?’
‘I gave it immediately to PC Willis, and I saw him place it in a heavy plastic bag like the one it is in today.’
‘After discovering Exhibit Three, were you asked to search any further?’
‘No, sir. The officers seemed happy with the result of the search.’
‘Thank you, Mr Harding. Please wait there. There may be some further questions.’
‘No questions, My Lord,’ Martin Hardcastle replied at once.
‘My Lord, I also have Ivor Rees, but unless my learned friend wishes me to do so…’
‘No, thank you,’ Hardcastle replied.
* * *
‘I shall not call him. My Lord, I now call Dr Joseph Wren,’ Andrew Pilkington announced.
Dr Wren was about sixty years of age, dressed in a dark brown tweed suit with a light blue shirt and a brown bow tie with white polka dots. He wore his tortoise-shell half-moon spectacles around his neck on a thin silver chain. Under his arm he carried a blue file folder. He placed the folder on the small working surface of the witness box in front of him, recited the oath without looking at the card Paul handed to him, and nodded politely to the judge.
‘Dr Wren, what is your profession?’
‘I am a medical doctor, and I have the usual qualifications as such. If anyone wants to hear them, I would be glad to oblige…’
Martin Hardcastle rose to his feet.
‘My Lord, Dr Wren is a well-qualified pathologist. The defence has no objection to his expertise.’
Dr Wren nodded in Hardcastle’s direction with a smile.
‘I am very much obliged to my learned friend,’ Pilkington said. ‘Dr Wren, in short then, you are a forensic pathologist of some twenty-five years’ experience. You have performed post-mortem examinations and you have given evidence as an expert witness in many cases during that period, on behalf of several police forces including those of Cambridgeshire and Huntingdonshire, is that correct?’
‘It is.’
‘You lecture regularly on forensic pathology for the Department of Medicine at Cambridge University, and you are the joint editor of a leading textbook on the subject?’
‘That is correct.’
‘Thank you, Doctor. Do you have a report, or notes you would like to consult?’
‘Yes, if I may, I would like to refer to my report and to my notes as necessary, to refresh my recollection.’
‘No objection,’ Hardcastle said.
‘Much obliged. Doctor Wren, on the 29 of January this year, were you asked by Cambridgeshire Police to examine and perform a post-mortem examination on a body?’
Dr Wren put on the half-moon spectacles which sat happily on a prominent ridge about half way down his nose. He opened the file folder and found his report.
‘I was. The body was that of a male, who was identified to me by his parents and by documentary evidence as that of Frank Gilliam, date of birth 8 October 1940, a resident of St Ives. The body was that of an adequately nourished white male, consistent with the stated age, and was unremarkable except for the presence of serious trauma to the head.’
‘Let us come to that,’ Andrew Pilkington said. ‘What precisely did you observe about the head?’
‘The deceased had suffered several blows to the head. Because of the degree of damage to the skull and the brain tissue, I was not able to determine precisely how many blows had been struck, but I can say with some confidence that it was either three or four.’
‘Why do you say that, Doctor?’
‘There was one blow,’ Dr Wren replied, demonstrating the position by running his hand through his own thinning hair, ‘to the back of the head, apparently struck from directly behind him and from some height above. That is clearly identifiable as a single blow. You then have a blow to the left side of the head, again identifiable as a single blow, and then you have either one or two blows to the front of the head, the forehead and the right part of the front of the head, which caused the most extensive damage of all. It is possible that this damage was caused by a single blow. The extent of that damage may be due to the shape of the weapon used. But it is also possible that it was the result of two separate blows. If it will assist, I have prepared a diagram showing the locations of the injuries, and I have prepared copies for his Lordship, counsel, and the jury, if you wish.’
Andrew glanced towards Martin Hardcastle, who nodded briefly. Paul immediately stood, took the copies from Dr Wren and distributed them in a matter of seconds to the judge, the jury, and to Martin Hardcastle.
‘Exhibit Four,’ the judge noted.
‘Much obliged, my Lord. Dr Wren, the jury will see that you have marked your diagram with the letter A to indicate the injury to the back of the head, the letter B to indicate the injury to the right side, and the letter C to indicate the one or two injuries to the right front of the head, is that correct?’
‘Yes it is.’
‘Dr Wren, based on your examination of the body and your professional experience, did you form an opinion as to the type of object that might have been used to inflict the kind of damage you observed to the head of Frank Gilliam?’
‘I did, sir.’
‘Would you please tell his Lordship and the jury what your opinion is in that respect?’
Dr Wren carefully removed the spectacles and allowed them to fall back against his chest, held by the silver chain.
‘The damage I observed in this case is as severe as any I have ever seen to the head in all the years of my experience. There were extensive fractures to the skull in each area, and there was significant displacement of brain tissue also. I can say, not only that this was the result of an exceptionally frenzied attack, but that the blows must have also been struck using a heavy blunt object.’
‘Did you find any fragments or other evidence to indicate of what material that object would have been made?’
‘I did not.’
‘May Dr Wren please be shown Exhibit Three?’
Paul lifted the winch handle, still in its packaging, from the clerk’s bench and, with a deliberate show of its weight, placed it on the edge of the witness box.
‘Dr Wren, please look at the object you have been handed.’
Dr Wren picked up the winch handle and held it in front of him, feeling its shape and testing its weight by raising and lowering
it slightly in his hands.
‘Dr Wren, are you able to say whether that object is capable of inflicting the kind of damage you have described to the jury?’
Dr Wren considered for a few seconds.
‘Undoubtedly it would be capable of doing so. It also seems to me that the shape of this object would be consistent with the uncertainty about one or two blows to the right front of the head, position C on the diagram. Used in a certain way, this would provide the attacker with a quite broad area of contact across the head.’
Andrew glanced down at his notes.
‘Finally, Dr Wren, have you formed any opinion about the cause or causes of Mr Gilliam’s death?’
‘I have. The cause of death was massive intracranial haemorrhaging resulting from severe head trauma caused by blows inflicted using a heavy blunt object. The attack caused multiple fractures of the skull, irreversible brain damage, and uncontrollable internal and external haemorrhaging. The first blow would have rendered Mr Gilliam unconscious, and may have been fatal in itself. The second blow would certainly have been fatal. Death would have followed within a very short time of the attack.’
‘Dr Wren, there may be some further questions. Please wait there.’
* * *
Dr Wren nodded in agreement. For the first time in the trial, Martin Hardcastle seemed to come to life. He sprang to his feet, though his thick brief still remained unopened, the pink ribbon tied securely around it, on the bench beside him.
‘Dr Wren, you spoke of the wound to the back of the head being the first wound. Did you intend to say that it was the first in time? Can you say with any certainty which was the first wound caused to Mr Gilliam?’
Dr Wren hesitated.
‘Not with any certainty, no.’
‘Do you have any basis whatsoever for saying so?’
‘I have no medical reason.’
‘Was it an assumption? The result of trying to reconstruct the event?’
