This morning, Angela was even better equipped for the frost, as over her slimline business suit she wore a dark beaver lamb coat, with a matching fur hat. As she sat snugly in the passenger seat beside him, Richard thought she looked cuddly, an image which sustained him for the rest of the drive into St Paul’s.
When they arrived at the unprepossessing offices of Middleton, Bailey and Bailey, they found Penelope Forbes and Douglas Bailey already there, together with their ‘silk’, Paul Marchmont. He was younger than Richard had expected, probably just a couple of years older than himself. Instead of the portly, silver-haired orator that was the stage concept of a QC, Marchmont was tall and wiry, with an unruly mane of black hair which he kept flinging aside with a hand in an almost theatrical gesture. Richard guessed that he was bit of a showman, like many successful barristers.
After introductions were made, Marchmont got down to essentials, as his time was money — lots of it!
‘Miss Forbes, Mr Bailey and myself have spent an hour going over the legal aspects of the case and reviewing the circumstantial evidence,’ he began. ‘This Appeal stands or falls upon a defence of alibi, which is really the only issue we can use, so the medical contribution is vital.’
He turned a ten-kilowatt smile on Angela, making her decide that he could either be a charming advocate or a deadly adversary.
‘That includes you of course, Doctor Bray. Your opinion about the blood stains is very important. Perhaps we could lead off with that aspect first.’
Angela, a battle-hardened expert witness, had no hesitation in launching into a clear and succinct account of the significance of the blood found on the sleeve of Millie Wilson’s coat. She had her sketches and an album of police photographs on her lap as she spoke.
‘There seems no dispute that Millie hit Shaw twice on the nose with a pint milk bottle in retaliation for his assault on her late that evening. The post-mortem recorded a bruised and broken nose which accords with several heavy blows. Neither is there any doubt about the blood on her coat having coming from Shaw, as the forensic lab in Bristol clearly showed that it is of a group and subgroups consistent with him and quite unlike Millie’s own blood.’
Paul Marchmont listened intently, then nodded and, having brushed back his hair, came to the heart of the matter.
‘The Crown claims that it came from the fatal wound in the chest. You can dispute that?’
‘Yes, and I fail to see why it wasn’t challenged at the trial. The transcript of evidence shows that their pathologist agreed that it was “entirely possible” when it was put to him, but he wasn’t pressed about it. There was no contrary evidence led by the defence on that point.’
‘And you have some?’ queried the Queen’s Counsel.
‘Part of this is more in Doctor Pryor’s province, and I’m sure he can answer for himself. But from the forensic biology point of view, these blood “stains” are really blood “spots”, having travelled through the air and landed on the sleeve of the coat, rather than being smears. I also found, from trawling through all the evidence, that she was left-handed and this was the left sleeve. That point was never raised at the trial.’
‘But why could not the same spots have come from the chest wound?’ demanded Marchmont. ‘Her hand, whether left or right, would be virtually touching the chest if she stuck the knife in it.’
Angela shook her head and proffered the photograph album, opened at a page showing a close-up of the woman’s jacket sleeve.
‘These are a shower of tiny spots, quite well spaced. They are not contact smears; they are from a fine spray striking the cuff area.’ She held out her left arm and indicated the outside of her own sleeve, just above the wrist.
‘I think Doctor Pryor will bear me out in my opinion that a single stab wound through clothing in the chest, which did not penetrate any substantial arterial blood-vessels, would not produce any spray, as virtually all of the fatal bleeding was internal, within the chest organs.’
Though she needed little support, Richard came in here to confirm what she was saying.
‘You can see from the photographs of the body at the scene that there was hardly any bleeding externally. He was wearing a vest, shirt and waistcoat and all that is visible is a stain soaked into the cloth around the narrow slit where the knife went in.’
‘Could this spray not have come off the knife when it was pulled out?’ asked Douglas Bailey. ‘I’ve been involved in cases where there’s blood all over the room — even on the ceiling — from spatter off a weapon.’
‘Sure, that happens, usually with blunt instruments or things like axes. But almost always, the weapon has been applied to surfaces that are already bloody from previous blows. Usually, a single blow causes a momentary contraction of blood vessels and it’s a few seconds before enough blood flows for the second or third blow to pick enough liquid to throw around the place.’
‘And Millie hit him at least twice on the nose with her bottle,’ concluded Angela. ‘So she could have caused a splash with her second impact, throwing a local spray back on to her sleeve.’
‘The other thing is that when the knife was found on the floor, only a close inspection could tell it had been used,’ said Richard, with a quickening fluency of which his grandfather, a Welsh Methodist preacher, would have approved. ‘There were some faint dried blood smears on the blade, but it took proper examination in the laboratory to confirm it. So there was very little blood on it, certainly not enough to cause a shower of spots. When a knife is pulled out cleanly from a wound, the muscle contraction can close the edges tightly against the blade and wipe it. And then of course there were three layers of clothing to give it an additional wipe.’
The QC nodded. ‘You’ve convinced me, doctors, but we have to convince three sceptical Lords of Appeal. Now what about the time of death? That’s where we will win or lose.’
Coffee appeared, giving Richard time mentally to gird his loins before setting off on a much more detailed argument.
‘Let me make it clear, Mr Marchmont,’ he began after they had settled down again. ‘I cannot deny that Arthur Shaw might well have died at around eleven or twelve o’clock that night, as the prosecution claimed. But what I can do is show that, because of the uncertainty of the methods their pathologist relied on, he could have died several hours either side of that claim. Obviously, that could not have been on the earlier side, as a number of the people in the house saw him alive until he went upstairs to assault Millie. But the hours after that time are certainly in contention.’
‘This is where we need a detailed argument, Doctor Pryor,’ said Paul Marchmont. ‘You are directly at odds with their expert on this.’
‘Right, let’s take the easy ones first,’ said Richard. ‘Their Doctor Mackintyre said that he relied on a concurrence of post-mortem lividity, rigor mortis, stomach contents and temperature to arrive at his conclusion that death had occurred between eleven and twelve o’clock. That is utter nonsense, as any medical man who, from an imperfect examination fourteen hours later, puts a time of death within a one-hour bracket is either ignorant or foolish!’
‘Strong words, doctor!’ said the QC.
‘If he had said “consistent with those times”, I would agree with him, but that then fails to destroy Millie’s alibi, as someone else could have done the deed outside the very short time bracket.’
Marchmont once again tossed his hair back. ‘Carry on, please, doctor.’
‘First, lividity, or “livor mortis” as it was probably called in Doctor Mackintyre’s day. Completely useless as a timer of death. It can even occur in deep coma, such as barbiturate overdose. But the time it takes to appear due to gravitational settling of the red blood cells is extremely variable. To use that to pin down a time to an hour, when seen half a day later, is little short of ludicrous.’
Penelope Forbes, who had been very quiet in the presence of her leader, came in with a query that showed that she had researched the case in depth.