‘When I’m ready,’ said Bentley, petulantly.
Hall turned pointedly and dismissively from the man. To Perry again he said, ‘Officially inform them we’re acting. We’ll need the earliest evidence exchange of everything she said and did immediately after arrest, for the psychiatrists to assess as well.’
Lloyd’s arrival added another angry man to the room. ‘I don’t consider Mrs Lomax sufficiently well to be interviewed further,’ he declared, looking challengingly between the police and the lawyers.
‘I’ve already decided it won’t be continued,’ said Hall.
‘When will it be possible?’ demanded Rodgers.
‘I don’t know. Several days,’ said Lloyd.
‘And only in our presence,’ added Hall. ‘In fact I think we’ll review whether or not it will be continued at all, in the light of medical evidence…’ To Lloyd he said, ‘Mrs Lomax’s collapse was genuine, not feigned?’
The doctor appeared surprised at the question. ‘Unquestionably genuine. I don’t even understand the question.’
‘I’ve had a lot of people collapse on me when they didn’t have answers to the questions I was asking,’ exaggerated Bentley.
Lloyd sighed, impatiently. ‘Mrs Lomax was medically unconscious. She remains extremely disorientated.’
‘We’ll require a statement from you to that effect,’ said Rodgers.
‘Which I’ll be pleased to provide, including the cause of the distress that preceded Mrs Lomax’s collapse,’ came back Lloyd, irritably. He was very aware he had given the medical permission for the questioning and he, too, now accepted it had been wrong. He’d been on duty for fifty-six hours and thought the British National Health Service and all hospital trusts were a total fucking disaster and wished he was allowed to tell someone.
‘I want to know the moment she’s well enough for me to see her again,’ insisted Bentley, moving towards the door. It had been an absolute bloody shambles and he’d been made to look a prick, not once but several times. He wasn’t sure if Rodgers was loyal enough not to spread stories.
He’d spoken to the doctor but it was Perry who replied, ‘We’ll let you know as soon as we are told. And decide, upon expert professional advice, whether it should be resumed at all.’
In their car Perry said, ‘Why did you antagonize Bentley like that?’
‘To see how easy it’s going to be in court,’ admitted Hall. ‘And it’s going to be very easy indeed.’
Perry nodded, impressed. Guardedly he said, ‘Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have allowed the questioning?’
‘We had medical agreement,’ reminded the barrister. ‘The doctor who gave it is prepared to testify the collapse was genuine. And to criticize police aggression. Which a jury will be able to judge for themselves when they see how quickly Bentley loses his temper.’
Perry gave another gesture of approval. ‘You thinking of going along the sympathy road: wronged wife temporarily driven beyond control by a cheating husband?’
‘I’m keeping an open mind but it’s a strong possibility,’ admitted Hall. ‘We’d need to get as many women as possible on the jury, during selection.’
‘I’d recommend that anyway,’ said Perry.
‘And let’s get started right away with psychiatrists. I really don’t want any committee decisions – that’s important – but I want them all singing to the same tune when it comes to giving their evidence in court. So we’ll discard any that don’t concur for one that does.’
Perry didn’t think the younger man was going to need as much hand-holding as he had first thought.
Jennifer’s first conscious impression was of fog, fog in her head so that she couldn’t think clearly, get her thoughts together. Or cotton wooclass="underline" head stuffed with cotton wool, so that everything felt thick. At once there was noise, a lot of noise of a lot of people, enjoying themselves, laughing and shouting too loudly like people laugh and shout at a party after drinking too much. But the fog began to lift and it wasn’t a lot of people. Just one. One that she knew, just as she knew, abruptly, where she was and what she had been accused of doing and why the bored policewomen were slumped in their chairs, ignoring her for their newspapers and magazines. And knew, worst of all, most terrible of all, what the detective had said about Gerald and the woman she’d thought to be her friend. Wasn’t true: couldn’t be true. Gerald had…
‘ Of course it’s true! ’
‘No!’
‘ Gerald didn’t love you.’
‘He did.’
‘ Didn’t love anyone, except himself. And fucking. Fucking anything that moved.’
‘Not true.’
‘She’s back,’ said the woman police constable, looking over her newspaper to her sergeant. ‘Should we tell someone?’
‘Suppose we’d better.’
The younger woman started to move towards the summons button but the sergeant said, ‘I’ll walk down to the nurse’s station. It’ll be something to do.’
The sound in Jennifer’s head was of cackling, near hysterical laughter. ‘ This makes it all the better. Brilliant. Fucking your best friend. Think they planned to kill you, too? Murder you, like you murdered me? Might have been a problem, though. Couldn’t go on killing wives he didn’t want, could he? Might not have got away with it twice .’
‘Don’t want to listen.’
‘ Oh, you’re going to have to listen Jennifer. Listen to all of it. Hear what a shit he was. What a shit Rebecca was.’
Emily! Who was going to see Emily for her? Tell Emily her mummy loved her…?
‘ Why not still ask Rebecca? She was fucking your husband so she might as well go on keeping it in the family. She’d have probably had the brat anyway, after Gerald had divorced you. Don’t forget how clever he was, getting whatever he wanted. All he wanted was a brat, not you. You were a breeding animal, like a sow.’
‘Stop!’
‘Mrs Lomax?’
Jennifer became conscious of Lloyd beside her bed. Conscious, too, that there was something sticking to her ribs and that thick leads connected her to a machine on one side but that the drip, although the bottle still hung from its hook, wasn’t in her arm any more. But there was a fresh dressing on what had been her uninjured arm almost as large as the one on the other arm. It hurt.
Seeing the frightened head swivel the doctor said, ‘You tore your arm rather badly, where the needle was inserted. I’m not sure you need it any more anyway…’
‘What’s the machine for?’
‘Heart monitor.’
‘ Broken-hearted Jennifer. See it on the machine! ’
Jennifer fought against a response and won. ‘Have they gone?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed it.’
‘You heard what the policeman said?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wasn’t true.’
‘ Don’t be stupid.’
‘I don’t know anything about that,’ refused Lloyd, uncomfortably. He wished another doctor had been covering emergency when she’d been admitted.
‘He wouldn’t have done that. Not Gerald.’
‘Mrs Lomax, I can’t help you with any of that. I have to care for you medically.’
‘You don’t believe I’m mad, do you?’
‘That’s not my field. I’m concerned with your physical recovery.’ To cover himself he should have a hospital psychiatrist examine her: make a report. Should have done that before agreeing to the police interview.
‘ Course he thinks you’re mad.’
‘Mrs Lomax?’ intruded the woman police sergeant. ‘Do you feel well enough now to talk to my superiors again?’
Jennifer flinched back on the bed and Lloyd wheeled towards the uniformed woman. ‘ I have spoken to your superiors and told them there won’t be any more interviews until I authorize it… if I authorize it. Nor are either of you to attempt to question her. If you do I shall insist upon your remaining outside of this room. Do you understand?’
The grey-haired woman retreated to her chair, face blazing.
‘Thank you,’ said Jennifer. ‘Are you my friend?’
Lloyd blinked at the question. ‘I’m your doctor.’