Beyond Innocence

by Barrie Turner

  Edith Farrell took a deep breath and sighed, “It’s a very strange world isn’t it? I mean, as if she hasn’t got enough on her plate as it is and now this – her son in prison for murder. In a way it might have been a blessing if she had died when she had that terrible stroke.”

  “Yes, Irene sympathised, but you mustn’t forget Harry Thompson has always maintained he’s innocent of all charges and I, and his defence team are still working on that. Once again Irene’s brain had spotted an opening, the faintest glimmer of a chance which she fully intended to exploit. “By the way, Matron, would it cause any problems if I were to ask Mr. Thompson whether or not he would like to reconsider his decision not to be put in touch with his mother whilst he is still in prison and, if he has changed his mind then I could let you know. This way it would leave it up to you and the society to establish contact with Mrs. Harris through the Hospital and there would not be any breach of society rules would there?”

  The Matron thought for a moment and then she said, “No I can’t see anything wrong with that. I’ll wait until I hear from you.” Then she enquired “Will that be all?”

  The past few moments had given Irene a chance to think about the idea swiftly germinating in her mind as she responded, “Can you tell me something, Mrs. Farrell. It’s nothing really. It’s just to satisfy my curiosity but do you keep any records here about the mothers and their children? In other words what records would you have of Mrs. Harris and her child both before and after adoption? She noticed the change of expression on the face of the matron as she answered,

  “Well strictly speaking everything we keep here is strictly confidential. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s nothing really,” Irene replied, I just wondered if perhaps you kept copies of birth certificates, or any information on Harry Thompson such as where he was born, but if you can’t tell me anything I can quite easily obtain it elsewhere. You see, I thought I might be able to save myself another journey.”

  “Well, Miss Yarwood, I can tell you that Mr. Thompson was born at St. Mary’s Hospital which is just along the road from here. If you can tell me how old Mr. Thompson is I can look up the entry for him in the record book for that year. This entry will also confirm the actual place of birth, and I think in those days we also recorded the name of the doctor who Mrs. Harris would have attending her at the time. You know it must have been pretty awful in those days for young girls like that.”

  Irene nodded in agreement and added, “I think it would be sometime in December 1960. I know he is 28 years of age. In an instant which belied her age, the matron was on her feet searching for the book in question. “Ah, here it is she exclaimed rather excitedly and, er let me see now. Yes there it is Bibby Harry Marcus 9th December 1960. Mother’s name Paula, Father unknown, well not unknown you know that used to happen a lot in those days. They wouldn’t always declare the name of the father. Yes, see there it is, the name of the doctor. Doctor Macmillan. Very young in those days, all the nurses fancied him. In fact, I’ll bet some of them still do because he’s still there you know. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, replied Irene you have been very helpful indeed so I will get along now because I am sure you’re very busy and I’ve already taken up far too much of your time. Unfortunately, even though I am in the vicinity I don’t think I will be able to visit the hospital to see your handsome doctor for myself as I have got to get back. So I will say cheerio for now.”

  She was deep in thought as she left the building and proceeded along the busy road towards the car park. During her walk she kept thinking how life really was strange. Of all the days, and of all the places to visit, she had to choose to come here today and the first thing to catch her attention was the funeral notice for Anthony Harris. Anthony Harris she mused. What a tragic waste of a young life; 27 years of age and he would never know he had a brother thirteen months older than himself. The same thoughts echoed through her mind as she collected her car and drove towards her chambers. As well as the names in her head, she now found the numbers running around in her brain so much so she was finding it difficult to concentrate on her driving but, try as hard as she could, these thoughts refused to leave her troubled mind.”

  It was the silly clown on the left trying to push in who brought her back to reality and as she slammed hard on her brakes to avoid a nasty collision she knew something was wrong. She realised it was pointless to remonstrate with the idiotic university student who had almost rammed her and, instead, she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. For a moment her mind went back to her own law student days and old examination papers where students were deliberately given false information. It might only be the incorrect addition of a column of figures but, if you did not spot it, you were losing marks and, surprisingly enough, there were those who didn’t despite being warned beforehand. It was then that the penny dropped. That was it, no wonder the figures were haunting her almost to the point of distraction. The figures were wrong. One person born early December and the other person born in early January that would put one person only weeks older than the other and not thirteen months as she had originally surmised. Clearly something was wrong and, whilst she could not see how this would assist her in the defence of Harry Thompson, nevertheless it represented something which had to be checked out just in case it proved to be anything of real significance.

  The moment she reached her office she rang the number of Michael Mulrooney. As soon as the call was answered she said excitedly, “Michael I want you to do something for me. I know you might think it rather odd but I need a copy of the birth certificate of Anthony Harris. Yes that Anthony Harris – the very same one. All I can tell you that I spotted something today which, if it were true, would mean that Harry Thompson would only be about four to eight weeks older than his late brother. Now we know that can’t be true, so I need a copy of his birth certificate. No, I’m sorry I don’t know myself where this is leading to I just wish I did. All I know is that Anthony was born in Chester so if you could do that for me I will be ever so pleased and, whilst you’re doing that I will be making some enquiries of my own.”

  She put the phone down and sat back in her chair in order to think as clearly as she could. Today she had seen the entry in the Adoption Society records for Harry Thompson so those details had to be true; there was absolutely no doubt about that. In that case, she reasoned to herself, it must have been a misprint in the Cheshire magazine. It had to be and so she dismissed the thoughts from her mind.

  She found it very difficult to concentrate on the documents left on her desk by the practice manager requesting counsel’s opinion on a range of issues simply because she could not dismiss Harry Thompson or his late brother from her mind. There was something niggling her about this and she had to get it sorted once and for all. After a few moments’ thought she put out a call to St. Mary’s Hospital and asked if she could speak to Doctor Macmillan.

  When asked who was calling and the nature of the call, she replied, “My name is Irene Yarwood QC and I have reason to believe that doctor Macmillan may be able to give me some information regarding a birth he attended almost thirty years ago. If this is true, the information could benefit my client and aid his defence.”

  The voice at the other end of the line interrupted her, “I’m sorry madam but I don’t think that would be possible due to the fact that all personal information regarding doctor, and patient, is strictly confidential. I don’t wish to appear rude or unhelpful, but I am sure you wouldn’t be pleased if we gave out any of your details over the telephone.”

  Irene did not expect this rebuff, and, she continued, “I can understand what you are saying and the reasons for it, but all I want to do is to ask Doctor Macmillan one simple question. If he chooses not to answer on the grounds which you have just stated then I will have to go back to the mother in question, and arrange for her to order the good doctor to tell me what I need to know. If that were possible now, I would ask the mother direct, but as she has
suffered a stroke and she is unable to speak, I have resorted to this approach. Failing this, I will have to apply to the courts to subpoena the doctor to attend a hearing in order to drag it out of him. Now I’m certain neither of us wishes to do that do we?”

  This latter statement had the desired effect as a much more subdued voice responded, “Please hold the line one moment whilst I see if I can connect you. A few moments later she was rewarded with the sound of a male voice saying “Macmillan speaking, how can I help?”

  “Good afternoon, Doctor Macmillan, please let me introduce myself. I promise I won’t take up too much of your valuable time. My name is Irene Yarwood QC. And I represent a person called Harry Thompson. Almost thirty years ago you attended his mother at a birth in St. Mary’s Hospital, I think her name at the time was Paula Bibby. Immediately after the birth the child was given up for adoption. However, something about this doesn’t ring true because I’ve discovered recently this child had a younger brother, but if the information I have is true, then this younger brother would only be three to four weeks his junior. She heard the soft intake of his breath and his soft Scottish brogue whispering, “After all this time, my moment of fame denied me returns to haunt me. Well all I can say is Christ Almighty that Mrs. Bibby!”

  “Can you recall the birth after all these years?” She asked.

  “Well, Miss Yarwood I could hardly forget it. You see I’d only been at the hospital a short time when this young lady came in to give birth. The birth of the baby was fine but it was after the birth that things went wrong for her, because, that’s when I had to tell her that she was going to have another child!”

  “What shouted Irene in utter disbelief, “Twins?”

  “Well not exactly. They are still twins but, instances of this are what we call staggered births, and they are very rare indeed. However, they can, and do, happen. It means that at the time Miss Bibby conceived her first child she continued to ovulate, and she became pregnant again. I was most concerned for her wellbeing at the time, but Miss Bibby insisted upon discharging herself and having the first child adopted. She was so upset at the thought of having two children, and her fiancée totally rejecting her, all she could think of was to give the first child up for adoption, and see if the boyfriend would do the decent thing, and marry her. Later, she wrote to me to tell me that she was getting married, and from that I assumed everything was all right. Naturally, at the time, she begged me not to say a word about this to a living soul, and because of the state she was in at the time, I agreed to it. Had word got out at the time, the pair of us would have been celebrities, and it might have given my career a boost, but what does it matter, my conscience is clear knowing I did the right thing at the time. The only condition I placed upon her was that I insisted, when she went in to the hospital for the second child she let me know where she was, and which doctor she was under. In the end, I persuaded her to come back here again for the birth of her second child and that’s what she did. You can tell how rare this condition is because, if my memory serves me correctly, I think there had only been some twenty recorded cases. In the case of Miss Bibby, the contractions had stopped naturally, so it was safe from a medical point of view, to leave the second baby in the womb for as long as it was considered safe to do so. In her case, I advised her that as long as she was under medical supervision she would be safe. Then, when I decided it was time for the child to be born it was delivered by Caesarean section. So, tell me now, how does this tie in with your defence of her son?”

  “Harry Thompson as he is now known, was arrested and convicted on two counts of murder.

  There was a loud intake of breath as he muttered, “Jesus.”

  She wasn’t distracted and continued, “My client has always maintained he was completely innocent of both charges and we now know, the police conspired to have false, and perjured evidence, produced against him at the murder trial. At present his appeal is going to the House of Lords, and we’re hopeful this time it will be upheld. With this information, together with some expert forensic help, I think we may be able to secure his freedom. There’s one other thing I think you should know, that is Mrs. Harris as she is now known has suffered a massive stroke which has left her almost completely paralysed, and she is kept alive only by a life support system. In view of what you told me earlier about your pact with this lady, I can assure you I shall only use this information with her permission. All I can say now is thank you for your help. No doubt if you read the press you’ll see how it all unfolds in the future.”

  Irene put down the phone to find she was almost shaking with disbelief and, utter relief. Tears of joy began to fill up her eyes as she realised for the first time, in a very long time, that, Harry Thompson her first client in a murder trial, just might have been telling the truth, and he wasn’t guilty after all. Before going home utterly exhausted, she contacted Michael Mulrooney.

  “Michael Oh Michael,” she said, “you’re not going to believe this when I tell you. It really is the most wonderful, yet bizarre, piece of news. The odds are that Harry Thompson is innocent and I think we may be able to prove it. Harry and Anthony, are more than brothers, they’re twins! Although they’re twins, they’re not twins as you, and I know it. In fact, they are known as staggered twins since they weren’t born at the same time. They were born within four weeks of each other, and I’ve just spoken to the doctor who delivered both of them. He’s just told me, although it’s very rare, it does happen occasionally. So what I need now are DNA samples from Timothy and Paula Harris to confirm they are the parents of the two boys, plus a sample from Anthony Harris deceased for comparison with the Clarkson girl. Hopefully then, we can clear this thing up once and for all. I know we’re still going to try to get the new evidence ruled inadmissible, but if we can show later, from these samples, it’s possible that the real perpetrator of the crimes was Anthony Harris, then, I think the case against Thompson vis-a-vis the Wilson case will simply fall apart. Michael, can you imagine the reaction from Timothy Harris when this news becomes public, and the field day with the press if it transpires that Harry is his son.”

  “Irene, he said, “that really is the most sensational news I have ever heard. Please tell me how on earth did you come by this information? I mean it’s absolutely mind blowing and in all the years I have been practising law, I have never heard of such a thing. How you got hold of this is beyond my comprehension. I tell you Irene I still can’t take this in.”

  Irene paused for breath before replying, “I went to see the Matron at the adoption society and I just happened to be reading a magazine about Cheshire life, when I came across the funeral announcement for Anthony Harris. At the time, I didn’t think anything about it as I was assuming quite incorrectly that these two were brothers born thirteen months apart. But, on my way back, it suddenly occurred to me there were only four weeks separating the pair. So, I got hold of the doctor who is still at the hospital, and he gave me all the information. It really is the most wonderful news, isn’t it Michael?”

  “That goes without saying he replied, but right now I can think of a few people who won’t be at all pleased. Anyway that’s life, and I’ll get on with your requests. As soon as I have got everything I’ll let you know. One last thing before I go, I think we’d better start to collect as much information as we can on Anthony Harris.”

  “That’s my boy, she responded, “you get on with it, and I’ll be in touch. Take care of yourself, enjoy what’s left of the day. Bye for now.” She replaced the receiver still deep in thought about the wonderful news.

  Chapter 31

  * * *

  Sir Campbell McKenzie viewed the crowds outside the court buildings with dismay, and a good deal of disdain. ‘Bloody sharks,’ he muttered to himself as he wove his way through the throngs of people milling in front of the building. Nothing but bloody sharks come to feed on the humiliation of one of their own kind. ‘They won’t get too much joy here today,’ he grumbled to himself, ‘leastways, not in m
y court.’ He knew what it was all about. In fact, the probability was the whole country knew, that today Timothy Harris was due to appear before him to face a charge of perjury. What the public at large did not know was, this wasn’t going to be an ongoing circus for the next two or three weeks, with Timothy Harris battling to save his career, or even himself. This was something which would be over within the hour at most for Timothy Harris intended to plead guilty to the charge. With the discovery of the prosecution file marked Not To Be Shown To The Defence, there wasn’t any point in him pleading any other way as his statements contained within that file proved, without any shadow of doubt, he had lied about everything in his libel action against the London Independent Newspaper Group. He finished his pot of tea then nodded to the usher that he was ready, whereupon, he followed that person to the door then as the usher issued his familiar cry, he strode with a great sense of purpose into the overcrowded court.

  Straight away, all of those present could see he meant business today. Picking up his gavel, he brought it crashing down with a tremendous thud, to indicate to one and all his court was now in session. The chief clerk to the court rose from his seat and commenced proceedings by addressing Timothy Harris with the preamble, “In the case of Regina versus Timothy Harris, you are charged that at an earlier Libel case hearing in this court, before his worship Sir Campbell McKenzie, you gave false evidence at that hearing in order to secure a favourable verdict for yourself, and as a consequence you committed the crime of Perjury. How do you plead in answer to that charge – guilty, or, not guilty?”