‘You are, Sir Toby,’ said Harry.
‘A post you have held for the past eleven years, despite the fact that several universities around the world have made you lucrative offers to leave your beloved Yorkshire and join them?’
At this point Mr Justice Fenton, who had also heard it all before, peered down and said, ‘I think I can say, Sir Toby, that you have established the fact that your witness is a pre-eminent expert in his chosen field. I wonder if we could now move on and deal with the case in hand.’
‘I am only too happy to do so, m’lud, especially after your generous words. It won’t be necessary to heap any more accolades on the good professor’s shoulders.’ Sir Toby would have loved to have told the judge that he had actually come to the end of his preliminary comments moments before he had been interrupted.
‘I will therefore, with your permission, m’lud, move on to the case before us, now that you feel I have established the credentials of this particular witness.’ He turned back to face the professor, with whom he exchanged a knowing wink.
‘Earlier in the case,’ continued Sir Toby, ‘my learned friend Mr Rodgers set out in detail the case for the prosecution, leaving no doubt that it rested on a single piece of evidence: namely, the smoking gun that never smoked’ — an expression Harry had heard his old friend use many times in the past, and was in no doubt he would use on many more occasions in the future.
‘I refer to the gun, covered in the defendant’s fingerprints, that was discovered near the body of his unfortunate wife, Mrs Valerie Richards. The prosecution went on to claim that after killing his wife, the defendant panicked and ran out of the house, leaving the firearm in the middle of the room.’ Sir Toby swung round to face the jury. ‘On this one, flimsy, piece of evidence — and flimsy I shall prove it to be — you, the jury, are being asked to convict a man for murder and place him behind bars for the rest of his life.’ He paused to allow the jury to take in the significance of his words.
‘So, now I return to you, Professor Bamford, and ask you as a pre-eminent expert in your field — to use m’lud’s description of your status — a series of questions.’ Harry realised the preamble was finally over, and that he would now be expected to live up to his reputation.
‘Let me start by asking you, Professor, is it your experience that after a murderer has shot his victim, he or she is likely to leave the murder weapon at the scene of the crime?’
‘No, Sir Toby, it is most unusual,’ replied Harry. ‘In nine cases out of ten where a handgun is involved, the weapon is never recovered, because the murderer makes sure that he or she disposes of the evidence.’
‘Quite so,’ said Sir Toby. ‘And in the one case out of ten where the gun is recovered, is it common to find fingerprints all over the murder weapon?’
‘Almost unknown,’ replied Harry. ‘Unless the murderer is a complete fool, or is actually caught in the act.’
‘The defendant may be many things,’ said Sir Toby, ‘but he is clearly not a fool. Like you, he was educated at Leeds Grammar School; and he was arrested not at the scene of the crime, but in the home of a friend on the other side of the city.’ Sir Toby omitted to add, as prosecuting counsel had pointed out several times in his opening statement, that the defendant was discovered in bed with his mistress, who turned out to be the only alibi he had.
‘Now, I’d like to turn to the gun itself, Professor. A Smith and Wesson K4217 B.’
‘It was actually a K4127 B,’ said Harry, correcting his old friend.
‘I bow to your superior knowledge,’ said Sir Toby, pleased with the effect his little mistake had made on the jury. ‘Now, returning to the handgun. The Home Office laboratory found the murder victim’s fingerprints on the weapon?’
‘They did, Sir Toby.’
‘And, as an expert, does this lead you to form any conclusions?’
‘Yes, it does. Mrs Richards’s prints were most prominent on the trigger and the butt of the gun, which causes me to believe that she was the last person to handle the weapon. Indeed, the physical evidence suggests that it was she who squeezed the trigger.’
‘I see,’ said Sir Toby. ‘But couldn’t the gun have been placed in the hand of Mrs Richards by her murderer, in order to mislead the police?’
‘I would be willing to go along with that theory if the police had not also found Mr Richards’s prints on the trigger.’
‘I’m not sure I fully understand what you’re getting at, Professor,’ said Sir Toby, fully understanding.
‘In almost every case I have been involved in, the first thing a murderer does is to remove his own fingerprints from the murder weapon before he considers placing it in the hand of the victim.’
‘I take your point. But correct me if I am wrong,’ said Sir Toby. ‘The gun was not found in the hand of the victim, but nine feet away from her body, which is where the prosecution claims it was dropped when the defendant fled in panic from his marital home. So, let me ask you, Professor Bamford: if someone committing suicide held a gun to their temple and pulled the trigger, where would you expect the gun to end up?’
‘Anywhere between six and ten feet from the body,’ Harry replied. ‘It’s a common mistake — often made in poorly researched films and television programmes — for victims to be shown still holding onto the gun after they have shot themselves. Whereas what actually happens in the case of suicide is that the force of the gun’s recoil jerks it from the victim’s grip, propelling it several feet from the body. In thirty years of dealing with suicides involving guns, I have never once known a weapon to remain in the hand of the victim.’
‘So, in your opinion as an expert, Professor, Mrs Richards’s fingerprints and the position of the weapon would be more consistent with suicide than with murder.’
‘That is correct, Sir Toby.’
‘One final question, Professor,’ said the defence QC, tugging his lapels. ‘When you have given evidence for the defence in cases such as this in the past, what percentage of juries have returned a not guilty verdict?’
‘Mathematics was never my strong subject, Sir Toby, but twenty-one cases out of twenty-four ended in acquittal.’
Sir Toby turned slowly to face the jury. ‘Twenty-one cases out of twenty-four,’ he said, ‘ended in acquittal after you were called as an expert witness. I think that’s around 85 per cent, m’lud. No more questions.’
Toby caught up with Harry on the courtroom steps. He slapped his old friend on the back. ‘You played another blinder, Harry. I’m not surprised the Crown caved in after you’d given your evidence — I’ve never seen you in better form. Got to rush, I’ve a case starting at the Bailey tomorrow, so I’ll see you at the first hole, ten o’clock on Saturday. That is, if Valerie will allow it.’
‘You’ll be seeing me long before then,’ murmured the Professor, as Sir Toby jumped into a taxi.
Sir Toby glanced through his notes as he waited for the first witness. The case had begun badly. The prosecution had been able to present a stack of evidence against his client that he was in no position to refute. He wasn’t looking forward to the cross-examination of a string of witnesses who would undoubtedly corroborate that evidence.