Pulse(64)

‘Did he have a profession?’ asked the coroner.

‘New information has just arrived from India that indicates Mr Kumar had previously been an officer in the Indian Police Service but had retired some time ago to become a member of a private security organisation.’

‘Is there any reason to believe he was working while here in the UK?’

‘None, sir,’ replied the sergeant. ‘But there is no evidence at all of the purpose of his visit. He obtained a standard visitor visa in person using the 24-hour super-priority visa service at the British visa application centre in New Delhi on . . .’ He consulted his notes. ‘. . . the third of November last year and booked his flight on the same day via the internet. He left India the following day, arriving at Heathrow on the morning of the fifth.’

A very sudden decision, I thought. There had to have been a pressing reason for his trip.

The court had answered the ‘Who?’ question.

Next into the witness box went Constable Filippos, who described how the man had been found in a cubicle in the gentlemen’s lavatory at the racecourse by one of the cleaning staff.

‘And the cubicle was locked from the inside?’ asked the coroner.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘So how was access gained?’

‘The cubicles were constructed of prefabricated panels that didn’t go all the way to the ceiling. One of the racecourse staff leaned over from the adjoining cubicle and used the cleaner’s mop handle to slide the lock open.’

‘Was that before or after you arrived at the scene?’ asked the coroner.

‘Before, sir. The method was described to me with a demonstration. The police were only called because the racecourse staff initially thought the man was drunk.’

‘Do we have the people present who found the man?’ The coroner looked around the court expectantly.

‘No, sir,’ said the constable. ‘The racecourse staff member was a young man on a short-term work exchange from Racing Victoria, in Australia. He has since returned home.’

The coroner pursed his lips in obvious disapproval.

‘And the cleaner?’ he asked in an acid tone.

‘The cleaner gave a statement to one of your assistants,’ the policeman said. ‘It should be with your notes, sir. She had originally thought the unresponsive man was already dead and she was badly shaken up at the time by the experience. It was not thought necessary for her to attend today.’

The coroner shuffled the stack of papers in front of him and found the statement, but he clearly didn’t like being seen to be put in his place by a young constable.

DC Filippos went on to describe how he had called for an ambulance and had then accompanied the man to Cheltenham General Hospital. He also told the court how he had returned to the racecourse later that evening and had discovered a whisky bottle in the waste bin, later found to bear the fingerprints of the deceased.

‘Do we have any indication where this bottle originated?’ the coroner asked.

‘No, sir,’ said the constable. ‘The bottle was branded as Bell’s Blended Scotch Whisky. The size was twenty millilitres, a fraction more than a quarter-bottle, and it was made from plastic not glass. Such bottles are available as duty-free sales at airports or on board aircraft but we have no indication of exactly where this particular bottle was purchased or where it had been prior to being found in the waste bin.’

The coroner made some notes. ‘Thank you, officer.’

Next it was my turn. I collected my papers and walked to the witness box.

I took the Bible in my right hand. ‘I swear by Almighty God to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

I sat down on the chair provided.

‘My name is Dr Christine Rankin, fellow of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine and consultant physician at Cheltenham General Hospital. I was the receiving consultant in the A&E department on the night Mr Kumar was admitted.’

I went on to describe the treatment given to the man, referring regularly to the medical notes I had brought with me. I told the court about the suspected supraventricular tachycardia, how I had prescribed adenosine to try to bring down his heart rate, and how he had subsequently died of a cardiac arrest.

‘Did the administration of the adenosine cause the cardiac arrest?’ the coroner asked.

‘No, sir,’ I said, keeping my breathing as even and calm as possible.

The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

But I was telling the truth.

‘Supraventricular tachycardia is caused by improper electrical activity in the upper part of the heart. Adenosine causes a momentary block in the atrioventricular node which should reset the heart rhythm. However, in this case that did not occur.’

‘Because the man was not in fact suffering from supraventricular tachycardia?’

‘The man’s heart did not respond to the adenosine due to the extent of the cocaine overdose,’ I said, not quite answering the coroner’s question.

‘Had you consulted with a cardiac specialist before administering the adenosine?’ the coroner asked.

‘No, sir,’ I said. ‘None were available in the hospital on a Saturday evening and I was of the opinion that to wait for the on-call cardiologist to arrive would be detrimental to the well-being of the patient.’