Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(34)

For the next fortnight, photographs of Sir Giles and Lady Barrington on their honeymoon in Tuscany appeared in most of the national papers.

Harry’s fourth novel, Mightier than the Sword, was published on the day the Barringtons returned from Italy. The following morning the same photograph appeared on every front page except The Times.

When the happy couple stepped off the train at Waterloo, they had to pass a W.H. Smith bookshop on the way to their car. There was only one novel displayed in vast numbers in the window. A week later, Mightier than the Sword made it on to the bestseller list, and it remained there right up until the opening day of the trial.

All Harry had to say was that no one understood how to promote a book better than Billy Collins.





13


THE ONE THING Giles and Emma were able to agree on was that it would be wiser for the case to be heard in a closed court with a judge presiding, rather than risking the unpredictable whims of a jury and relentless hounding by the press. The Hon. Mr Justice Cameron was selected to preside over the case, and both counsel assured their clients that he was a man of probity, wisdom and common sense in equal proportions.

Although the press assembled in great numbers outside court No. 6, good morning and good night were the only comments they got from either party.

Giles was represented by Sir Cuthbert Makins KC, while Emma and Grace had selected Mr Simon Todd KC to put their case, although Grace made it clear that she would not be attending proceedings as she had far more important things to do.

‘Like what?’ asked Emma.

‘Like teaching clever children, rather than listening to arguments from childish grown-ups. If I were given the choice, I’d just bang both your heads together,’ was her final comment on the subject.

As the clock behind the judge’s chair struck the first of ten chimes on the first day of the hearing, Mr Justice Cameron made his entrance. Everyone else in court followed the example of the two silks, rising and bowing to his lordship. Once he had returned the compliment, he took his seat in the high-backed leather chair in front of the royal coat of arms. He adjusted his wig, opened the thick red file in front of him and took a sip of water before addressing both parties.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began. ‘It is my job to listen to the arguments presented by both leading counsel, assess the evidence of witnesses, and consider the points of law that are relevant to this case. I must begin by asking counsel for both the plaintiff and the defence if every effort has been made to come to an out-of-court settlement.’

Sir Cuthbert rose slowly from his place and tugged the lapels of his long black gown before addressing the court. ‘I speak on behalf of both parties when I say that sadly, m’lud, that has not been possible.’

‘Then let us proceed, Sir Cuthbert, with your opening statement.’

‘If it so pleases your lordship, in this case I represent the plaintiff, Sir Giles Barrington. The case, m’lud, concerns the validity of a will, and whether the late Lady Barrington was of sufficiently sound mind to put her signature to a long and complex document, with far-reaching ramifications, only hours before she died. I submit, m’lud, that this frail and exhausted woman was in no position to make a considered judgement that would affect the lives of so many people. I shall also show that Lady Barrington had executed an earlier will, some twelve months prior to her death, when she was in rude health, and had more than enough time to consider her actions. And to that end, m’lud, I would like to call my first witness, Mr Michael Pym.’

A tall, elegantly dressed man with a head of silver hair entered the courtroom. Even before he’d taken the witness stand, he’d given the favourable impression Sir Cuthbert had planned. Once the witness had sworn the oath, Sir Cuthbert gave him a warm smile.

‘Mr Pym, will you please state your name and occupation for the court record.’

‘My name is Michael Pym, and I am the senior surgeon at Guy’s Hospital in the City of London.’

‘How long have you held that position?’

‘Sixteen years.’

‘So you are a man with a great deal of experience in your field. Indeed, one might say—’

‘I accept that Mr Pym is an expert witness, Sir Cuthbert. Get on with it,’ said the judge.

‘Mr Pym,’ said Sir Cuthbert, recovering quickly, ‘would you please tell the court, with all your considerable experience, what a patient can expect to go through during the last week of his or her life when suffering from such a painful and debilitating disease as cancer?’

‘It can vary, of course, but the vast majority of patients will spend long periods of time in a semi-conscious or unconscious state. In their waking moments they are often aware that their life is ebbing away, but apart from that they can lose all sense of reality.’

‘Would you think it possible for a patient in this state of mind to make an important decision on a complex legal matter, such as the signing of a will?’

‘No, I would not,’ replied Pym. ‘Whenever I require a medical consent form to be signed under such circumstances, I make sure it is done some time before the patient reaches that condition.’

‘No more questions, m’lud,’ said Sir Cuthbert, resuming his seat.

‘Mr Pym,’ said the judge, leaning forward, ‘are you saying there are no exceptions to this rule?’