A Game of Proof

‘Then I’ll scratch his other cheek, the bastard!’ She took a deep drag on her cigarette, then turned her head and deliberately blew smoke all over his face. ‘Why didn’t you charge him this time, eh? I told you, he stuck his hand up my skirt.’

‘That’s not what the other witnesses said. There were two of them.’

‘And you listened to them, of course, like you always do. Not to me. Well, I’ll find someone who will listen. Drop me here, will you.’

Harry pulled the car to the kerb, and watched her go into the house where she had left her kids. He knew she didn’t like him much, but he didn’t care. To an extent it only added to the excitement, the sense of being able to control and exploit her that he’d had. Until now.

He scowled, and drove slowly away.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Next morning, the reporters were still there. But this time, Sarah walked straight towards them. The questions came from all sides.

‘Mrs Newby, is the trial going well?’

‘Why are you defending your son yourself?’

‘Could you give us a few words, please?’

At the top of the steps she paused and turned. She had never heard this done by a British barrister but she knew of nothing against it in law. Every newspaper, TV and radio station had reported Phil Turner’s opening speech. If I’m going to suffer this publicity, she thought, I may as well make use of it too.

A TV cameraman focussed his lens on her face. Lucy tugged discreetly at her elbow, but Sarah ignored her. ‘I just want to say that I took this case at my son’s request. He assures me he is innocent and I believe him. That may be unusual for a barrister but it’s perfectly legal. I intend to fight this case to the best of my ability and prove his innocence.’

Pens scribbled in notebooks, microphones were thrust in her face.

‘The victim was your son’s girlfriend, wasn’t she, Mrs Newby? Did you know her?’

‘I knew her, yes.’ Sarah hesitated, feeling Lucy’s tug more insistent than before. She hadn’t planned to answer any more questions, didn’t know quite what to say.

‘Did you like her, Mrs Newby?’

‘Do you feel sorry for her parents?’

The TV camera zoomed closer to her face. This is why we don’t do this, she realised, it needs planning and preparation. She took a deep breath. ‘Jasmine Hurst was a very beautiful girl and my son was in love with her. Her parents have all my sympathy at this terrible time. But my son did not kill her.’

Her voice faltered and she thought God no, the whole world is going to see this.

‘So who did kill her, Mrs Newby? Do you have any idea about that?’

‘No, I’m sorry. That’s all. Thank you very much.’

She went inside, feeling her whole body trembling. ‘For heaven’s sake, Sarah, what are you doing?’ Lucy said. ‘We’re not in California now. What if the judge says you’ve unfairly prejudiced the case?’

‘Then he does.’ Sarah smiled shakily. ‘How did it look? Did my voice break?’

‘Keep the day job, love, leave Hollywood to the experts.’ Relenting, Lucy gave her a brief, motherly hug. ‘The real jury’s in here, not outside.’

To Sarah’s relief, judge Mookerjee ignored her remarks outside court. Dr Jones took the stand in a dark suit with yellow tie and matching silk handkerchief. Sarah stood.

‘Now, Dr Jones, let us turn to the semen from Miss Hurst’s vagina. You have described how the DNA in this semen was an exact match for the DNA which you took from my son.’

‘I have, yes.’

‘Very well. You may know, Dr Jones, that the defence does not dispute that the semen is indeed that of my son, Simon Newby. He will give evidence that he and Miss Hurst made love earlier that day at his house in a consensual, loving fashion. That’s why the semen is there, he says. So may I ask, Dr Jones, is there anything about the sample that would contradict this story?’

‘Simply the fact that it was there. In the body of a girl who had been raped and murdered.’

Sarah frowned. ‘Dr Jones, I’m not sure you understand my question. Let me make it clearer. I want you to put aside the vaginal bruising, and the victim’s death, and concentrate solely on the semen which you examined. Was there anything about the age or condition of the sample which would tell you when, precisely, it entered her body?’

The pathologist shrugged, as if the question was of minor academic interest. ‘Well, if you concentrate on that alone, then I suppose the answer is no, not precisely. By the time I analysed the sample, it was already some sixteen hours old. There is no test that could precisely determine whether it was deposited at the time of death or a few hours earlier.’

‘So it is possible that Miss Hurst had sexual intercourse several hours before her death?’

Dr Jones frowned, as though correcting an errant pupil. ‘If she did, then the vaginal bruising would suggest it was more like a rape than the loving consensual activity you describe.’

‘Very well, let us come to that.’ Sarah was determined not to be patronized by this man, but every time she looked at him she saw him in his white coat, about to show her Emily’s body. He had seemed the ultimate figure of medical authority then, the gatekeeper to life or death.

Resolutely, she thrust the memory aside. Now he was a threat to her son.

‘In your report you describe some bruising. When do you believe this bruising occurred?’

‘Immediately prior to the victim’s death.’ He shrugged, as if the answer were obvious.

Sarah contemplated the witness coldly. ‘Can you be more precise about that, Dr Jones? Do you mean ten seconds before death? Five minutes? Half an hour? Two hours? More?’

‘Probably a few minutes before. Depending on the severity of the actual trauma, it could theoretically have been longer, I suppose. But you’d have to consider this along with the evidence of the crime scene to decide when the rape actually happened.’

‘Very well. But I’m interested in your phrase ‘depending on the severity of the trauma.’ Can you explain that a little further?’

‘Well, these bruises appeared relatively minor. The most likely explanation of that is that the victim was raped only a few minutes before her throat was cut, and therefore although the vaginal trauma she suffered was quite severe, the bruising did not have time to develop fully before the blood flow was cut off.’

‘And the other explanation?’

‘I suppose … a theoretical alternative explanation could be that she suffered a milder vaginal trauma some time before, and that the bruising had in fact fully developed.’

It was a key admission, reluctantly given. ‘So how long before could this much milder vaginal trauma have occurred, doctor?’

‘Well, it’s hard to be precise. If it was very mild, two or three hours, I suppose. But …’

‘Thank you. So it is possible that this bruising was caused up to two or three hours before death. And in that case, the trauma that caused it was much milder than the brutal rape which my learned friend has attempted to describe?’

And so my son didn’t rape her. Or at least, not very roughly. Oh Simon, Simon!

‘It’s a theoretical possibility, yes. But only if you treat these injuries in isolation from all the others, which indicate a violent, sexual attack. There were scratches to the backs and insides of her thighs, which would indicate a violent sexual assault.’

‘You put the prosecution case very well, doctor. But it remains true, does it not, that there is a completely different and credible possibility — that the semen and bruising in the vagina were the result of a very much milder