‘No.’
‘From the extensive sampling you took, do you believe you would have found B Rhesus Positive if there had been traces in Gerald Lomax’s office?’
‘Yes.’
‘From your forensic examination of Gerald Lomax’s office how many people were in it, at the time of his murder?’
‘Two.’
‘No-one else?’
‘No. It isn’t possible.’
‘Doctor Billington, what explanation can you give the court when I tell you that the fingerprints I have just made available to you are those of Mrs Jennifer Lomax, taken last night in the presence of a number of witnesses, including the police? And that Mrs Lomax’s blood group, again taken last night to confirm five different earlier samplings, is not O Rhesus Negative, but B Rhesus Positive? Or that the hair you early testified before this court to be that of Mrs Lomax is quite different, in colour, from that taken last night and which is, as we talk, being subjected to DNA analytical comparison.’
The scientist shook his head. ‘That isn’t possible.’
‘It’s more than possible, Doctor Billington. They are unarguable facts, witnessed among others last night by my learned friend for the prosecution, Mr Keflin-Brown.’
It was several minutes before Billington was able to reply. Then he said, ‘I can’t explain it… it’s beyond explanation…’ He looked apprehensively across the court at Jennifer. ‘… It’s too frightening to explain…’
Everyone else in the court was looking at Jennifer at that moment. And there was very little noise.
There was a great deal, however, in the cells during the lunchtime adjournment. Twice the force of Jennifer’s convulsions threw not just herself but both wardresses trying to support her off their feet. The harangue in Jennifer’s head was so loud it made her scream with pain. She defecated and urinated at the same time but because her dress was up around her waist in a struggle with the wardresses it wasn’t stained. Jennifer was too distraught – too possessed – to be embarrassed that it happened in front of Hall and Perry or that the corridor outside was crowded with onlookers. Everything Hall tried to say to her was drowned beneath obscene, shouted invective and so he stopped trying.
It ended as abruptly and dramatically as it began, with the arrival of the duty doctor and the Librium she’d refused earlier.
‘ Don’t want that. Not working things out properly.’
‘Please go,’ pleaded Jennifer, to the two lawyers, wrinkling her nose at her own odour. ‘This is disgusting! I’m all right.’
Nervous of the reaction it might cause, Hall nevertheless said, ‘It’s going well. Remember, don’t worry about anything happening in the dock.’
‘Jarvis wouldn’t like that happening in the dock,’ said Perry, as they both left the cell, Hall herding the bystanders away.
Neither man felt like eating. It was automatic to make their way to the canteen but having reached it they turned away, going back into the court corridors. Perry said, ‘You believe it, don’t you? That there’s another person – Jane – in her head?’
‘Don’t you?’ said Hall, avoiding the answer.
Perry ducked a response, too. ‘Have you any idea what this could lead to? I mean there’s only one direction Jarvis can order the jury now. And that’s before he hears from Forest!’ Ross Hamilton Forest II was the Washington lawyer at that moment airborne over the Atlantic.
‘I worked all that out last night and early this morning,’ said Hall. ‘And all right, if you want me to say it, I will. I don’t understand it and I’m not sure I want to and I’m frightened and I’m not sure what favours we’re doing Jennifer Lomax.’
‘I’ve had some messages,’ said Perry, who had come to the cells after Hall and was reluctant to continue their present conversation. ‘Forest’s plane is on time. Geoffrey Johnson’s meeting him personally. They should arrive here by the time the court resumes.’
‘Perfect,’ said Hall.
‘And there was another from Bert Feltham. There’s a conference tonight, with Sir Richard.’
‘About Jennifer Lomax?’ queried Hall. ‘Or about whatever it is that made it so important for this case to be dumped upon me in the first place?’
Humphrey Perry didn’t reply.
Chapter Twenty-four
Jennifer cleaned herself up but had to discard her already ruined underwear. Without which she felt naked, defenceless – revulsed by herself – and as she tried to restore her hair and repair her make-up the voice said, ‘ That’s what you are, Jennifer, bare-assed, defenceless and revolting. You smell like a pig. And there’s really no end to what I can make you do.’
People are believing me now, she thought.
‘ So what, you’re still a freak.’
But not a murderer.
‘ The show ain’t over till the fat lady sings.’
People know it’s you singing, not me.
‘ Still a freak. ’
Jennifer made a positive effort to stop the mental conversation. She’d hit her leg, opening the wound, during the convulsion and when he’d re-dressed it the doctor had said it needed to be stitched but that it couldn’t be done there. To the wardress Jennifer said, ‘I hope I didn’t hurt you.’
‘We’ve had worse,’ said Ann, speaking for both of them.
‘ No you haven’t, not yet.’
Go away! thought Jennifer.
‘ Not until I’ve finished. And I’ve got a lot to do before I’ve finished.’
‘It’s pretty unusual up there? What’s happening, I mean?’ said Ann.
For the first time Jennifer was conscious of a change of attitude from the motherly woman who had befriended her and couldn’t understand it. There was a caution, a distancing that hadn’t been obvious before.
‘ Freak! ’
‘I didn’t do it,’ said Jennifer, replying to the wardress. ‘We’re proving I didn’t do it.’
‘Eerie!’ said the second wardress, smiling uncertainly.
‘ Better get used to it! ’
‘I’ve been doing this for eighteen years,’ said Ann. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘It’, isolated Jennifer. She was becoming an ‘it’, not a human being.
‘ That’s what you are, honey: an “it ”.’
‘Would you do something for me?’ asked the second woman, tentatively.
‘What?’ asked Jennifer.
The woman offered a sheet from a notebook she took from the top pocket of her uniform. ‘Sign an autograph? My name’s Kathleen.’ The accent was Irish.
‘ Hah! ’
Jennifer flushed and Ann said to the other wardress: ‘Don’t be so bloody daft!’
‘Of course,’ said Jennifer, self-consciously taking the paper.
‘ There’s a place for you in a carnival, along with the bearded lady and the fattest man in the world.’
‘If you don’t mind then…?’ smiled Ann, taking out her own pocket book.
Jennifer signed for the second time. Both women held the paper towards her at arm’s length. ‘Please stay close to me in court. In case anything happens.’
‘ They think you’re contagious! ’
‘Sure,’ said Kathleen, doubtfully.
‘Do you know when it’s going to happen: when you’re going to be thrown about?’ asked Ann.
‘I know when she’s with me.’
‘Is she with you now?’
‘Yes.’
Both women stared at her open-mouthed, dumb-struck.
‘ This is going to be the story of their lives! The only story of their lives ’
‘How?’ asked Kathleen, breathlessly.
‘I don’t want her to know.’ Jennifer’s face was burning and not from Jane’s presence. She did feel a freak. What the hell was she doing, going along with this inane conversation, responding to their inane, stupid questions?
‘ You’re the woman with two heads! That’s the billing! Roll up, roll up, see the woman with two heads, one inside the other! ’
Jennifer saw the two wardresses exchange awed looks. ‘And I don’t want to talk about it any more.’
‘No, of course not,’ accepted Ann, immediately deferential. ‘It’s time we were moving anyway.’
Jeremy Hall and Humphrey Perry were beside the dock when Jennifer re-entered, putting themselves between her and the press, who were noisier than ever before. Four journalists were outside the gallery, waiting for her to appear. When she did they surged forward, to be intercepted by police and a black-gowned court official. Perry moved to meet them. Each thrust pieces of paper at the solicitor, who accepted them.