Part Fifteen
As Dr. Kay Scarpetta travelled in a cab towards George's office, she reflected that this unexpected meeting was providing a more than interesting break in her busy schedule, of lectures to endless streams of medical students. In her usual job as Chief Medical Examiner of Virginia, she really spent very little of her time passing on the knowledge of her profession, the endless investigation of crimes, testifying in trials and administering the Virginia medical examiners' system, overloading her days well beyond capacity. She did hold a position at the national Forensic Academy, but her other commitments never allowed her to do as much teaching as she would like. So, when she had met Zubin at a medical conference some years before, and he had suggested her doing a couple of week's teaching for him every year to the new influx of medical students, she had jumped at the chance. This enabled her to pass on the knowledge of how to investigate an unexplained death, and it gave her a very welcome break in her day to day activities. She had been over in England for a week already, when Zubin had put this latest problem to her. He had explained about his patient, and how there was some question over how he had died. Zubin had told her of meeting with his patient's wife's barristers, and how what they really needed was an expert pathologist. Well, what was she but an expert in unnatural or unexplained deaths. So, here she was, travelling across London in a cab, heading off to meet one of Barbara Mills' barristers, someone by the name of George Channing. After making sure that Kay was agreeable to meeting with her, Zubin had contacted George the day before to arrange the time. He had been planning to accompany her, but he had been kept in an operation longer than expected. When Kay had asked what this George Channing was like, all Zubin had been able to say was that she was very pretty. As they entered the much smarter streets of Knightsbridge, Kay was forced to admit that George had a far more glamorous location for her office than she did back in Virginia, with her office there being on the outskirts of the city, amongst all the other investigative paraphernalia of her trade. With all this in mind, she paid the taxi driver, and presented herself at reception, her mind entirely open to the possibilities this meeting might raise.
When George's secretary brought Kay upstairs, George was at first surprised to see that she was alone. "Professor Khan sends his apologies," She said in what was definitely a cultured American accent. "But he got caught up in surgery." "That's no problem," George said, taking in every inch of this woman's immaculately dressed frame. "I get the feeling that this case is going to be fraught with such difficulties from start to finish. Thank you for coming," She said, holding out her hand, which Kay shook. "Would you like some coffee, Dr. Scarpetta?" George asked in her perfect drawing-room politeness. "Please, call me Kay," Kay assured her, gratefully sinking into one of the chairs grouped around the coffee table in George's office. "I've been called Dr. Scarpetta by more students than I care to remember over the last week or so." "Ah, yes, the virtues of the proverbial mockery of decorum," George agreed with feeling. "Every time I'm in court, I am referred to as Mrs. Channing, even though I haven't been married for nearly twenty years. The only judge who ever seems to remember that I'm divorced, is the one I was married to." George had no idea why such a piece of personal information had slipped out so easily, but this beautiful woman, with her petite stature, ash blonde hair and blue eyes, seemed to draw confidences from her without even asking. "That must be something of a problem," Kay said with slightly widening eyes. "Only when we get into a row and he bangs me up for contempt," At which Kay couldn't quite hide a smile. When their coffee arrived, George said, "As you are clearly well acquainted by virtue of your profession with the consequences of such a disgusting habit, will you object if I smoke?" Kay smiled broadly this time. "Not at all," She replied. "As long as I can join you." Then, at the look of surprise on George's face, she added, "Doctors are just as human and just as infallible as everyone else, George. We smoke, eat bad food, and drink caffeine and alcohol just like the rest of you." "That's good to know," George replied, gratefully reaching for her ashtray and putting it on the table between them.
"So, how much has Zubin told you?" George asked when she had lit a cigarette and taken a long drag. "The patient's name was Henry Mills," Kay began, digging for some cigarettes of her own. "Aged fifty-eight, and was suffering from the final stages of terminal lung cancer. This was pronounced inoperable and untreatable by either chemotherapy or radiotherapy, on a thorough examination by, Connie Beauchamp," She added, searching her enormous memory for the name. "Zubin was suspiciously quiet on the subject of Mrs. Beauchamp's professional skill," George put in, clearly impressed at Kay's almost total recall of the facts. "Which makes me wonder precisely why the prosecution might recruit her." "Having met her a couple of days ago, I wouldn't be in the least surprised," Kay agreed with her. "She is what you might call forceful, in a self-assured, arrogant manner and who is obviously used to flattening anyone who lands in her path." "Sounds like a woman after my own heart," George said in eager contemplation, clearly itching to tangle with such an object in the battlefield of court. "I'm serious," Kay assured her. "And just how long did it take you to work all this out?" George asked with obvious interest. "About five minutes," Kay replied without the hint of a smile. "She gives off an even tougher exterior than I usually do. However, by the sounds of it, her surgical skill really can't be called into question." "The police, in their infinite wisdom," George continued regretfully. "Have charged our client with murdering her husband, primarily because she did help her previously terminally ill husband to die. Now, I am not here to discuss the rights and wrongs of what she did last time, because I personally believe it to be irrelevant. Barbara, our client, maintains that her husband committed suicide. I suspect, though I have absolutely no proof of this, that the pathologist who did the original postmortem, was informed that he had been murdered, and therefore didn't look for any possibility. I am not attempting to cast any aspersions on your undoubtedly noble profession," She added, seeing the brief flare of professional pride and protectiveness in Kay's eyes. "But I do know how the police often react in situations such as these, and I do sincerely believe this to be a probability. What we need you to do, if possible, is to perform a second postmortem, and to attempt to establish what really happened. I am entirely prepared for the fact that my client is lying to me, though in truth I don't think she is. What we simply need is a second opinion, someone to look at this with a fresh perspective. Now, I can see that you have at least a dozen questions, so please fire away."
"First of all," Kay began, digging a pad and pen out of her handbag, and taking a swig of her coffee. "Why does Barbara Mills have two barristers?" "I can see that particular question is going to crop up every time we find a new witness," George said with a rueful smile. "Both Jo Mills, no relation to Barbara, and I are friends of Barbara's, at least I like to think we are. This case is perhaps far more personally important to both of us than professionally. Jo is a criminal QC, whereas I chose to follow the path of civil law. I found that the financial reward was somewhat more lucrative. For the purposes of Barbara's case, I am acting as Jo's junior, even though I hold the same rank of QC as she does." "I see," Kay replied, clearly impressed. "Well, seeing as you've given me your credentials, it seems only fair to give you mine. After finishing medical school, I did my law degree at George Town, Washington, after which I obtained my specialty in pathology, with my subspecialty in forensic pathology. I worked my way up through the medical examiners' system of Dade County, Miami, and was then made Chief Medical Examiner of Virginia in 1983, and I've been in Richmond ever since. I also work on a consultancy basis for the FBI, as their consulting forensic pathologist, as well as occasionally teaching at the National Forensic Academy." "And I thought my life was busy," George said dryly, in an effort to cover up how astounded she was. "It doesn't leave much room for anything else," Kay admitted quietly, and George got the fleeting feeling that Kay hid an enormous emptiness beneath all her professional achievements. "Would you like to see a copy of the original postmortem report?" George asked, thinking that if she wasn't careful, she could sit and talk to this woman all day. "No," Kay replied without hesitation. "I prefer to examine a body with a completely open mind. The police say Henry Mills was murdered, your client says he killed himself. I'd like to stay on neutral territory until I know for sure. If I do discover that your client is telling the truth, would you require me to take the stand in any resulting trial?" "Yes, if at all possible." "Something you must think about before you actually decide such a thing," Kay said carefully. "Is whether or not you are willing to put up with the bad publicity that may be dragged up by the prosecution? I haven't ever featured in the British press, at least not that I know of, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to suggest, that institutions such as The New York Times and The Washington Post have created an entire archive, for the information they have published about me over the years. In some cities back home, I am considered a liability to have in any courtroom. Not because of the reliability of my testimony, but because of the publicity certain major events in my life have attracted. The best thing for you to do is to first of all find out everything you can about me, before you decide whether or not you really do want me as a witness. I would be doing your client a severe disservice if I didn't give you this prior warning." "Couldn't you enlighten me yourself?" George asked, not remotely put off by the prospect of bad publicity. She had defended enough utter scoundrels in her time to no longer give a damn about such things. "Whilst the archives of the press might give you a somewhat biased view, they will show you the stance that the prosecution is likely to take, if you should choose to have me appear on the stand, rather than to simply stipulate my report." "Right," George said, thoroughly understanding her logic. "It sounds as though I'm in for a shock." "That is highly likely," Kay told her with absolute certainty. "Now, what I do need before I can proceed with the second postmortem, is the permission of his next of kin, your client I presume." "That can probably be obtained for you today." "In that case, I'll contact the mortuary that is currently holding him, and have him transferred to St. Mary's, where I can work on him tomorrow if possible."
A little while later, as George dropped Kay back at St. Mary's hospital, she couldn't help but take another opportunity to visually check out this new acquaintance. She was poised, petite, and immaculate, the tailored grey suit complementing her perfectly. She was on her way to court, to catch Jo in the lunchtime adjournment, and to possibly spend a little while with John if he wasn't too busy. St. Mary's had been a little out of her way, but it had provided her with ample opportunities to get to know Kay Scarpetta a little more. When she drew up in the car park of the Old Bailey, she saw that the adjournment had obviously already begun, because there Jo was, standing at the top of the steps with a cigarette in her hand. "You look as though you truly need that," George commented as she approached. "You have no idea," Jo said exhaustedly. "Yes, I do," George smiled fondly. "However, I am here to tell you that your work won't be ending with the final adjournment this afternoon. I have enlisted Dr. Kay Scarpetta, who is, I must say, the most ravishing pathologist I think I've ever met in my life, but she needs Barbara's permission to do the second postmortem." "And you want me to go and see Barbara after court this afternoon," Jo concluded tiredly. "If possible," George replied. "You do the sympathetic touch far better than I do." "Then perhaps it's about time you learnt," Jo said icily, immediately regretting her outburst. "I'm sorry," She said, finishing her cigarette and flicking the end down the steps. "The case not going as planned?" George asked, knowing just how frustrating a morning in court could sometimes be. "No, not in the slightest," Jo said bitterly. "And I really think hell must have finally frozen over," She added with a short laugh. "Because I am actively considering completely forgetting any hint of discretion, in order to get a cuddle from you in public." "You must have had a bad day," George said with a broad smile. Then, much softer and with far more feeling, she added, "Save the thought of it till later." "Hmmm, I will," Jo replied almost contentedly, giving George's hand a brief squeeze as they moved towards the doors to go inside. "Do you happen to know whether or not our Lord and master is busy today?" George asked as the doors swung too behind them. "Well, he was in a particularly vile mood in court, so I should imagine he's hiding," Jo said ruefully. "I haven't seen him like that for a long time." "Ah," George said in understanding. "I'll go up and see him then, and persuade him to lighten up a bit. Oh, and I think you and me will have some fairly hefty reading to do tonight." "Why?" Jo asked ominously, knowing that after a day like today, all she would really want was a long soak in the bath and a good night's sleep. As George filled her in as to Kay's slightly cryptic warning, Jo's face darkened in disbelief. "You are joking?" She said, her anger clearly rising. "George, the last thing we need on this case, is some overgrown government official who's managed to get herself more bad publicity than some of your ex-clients. Just because you are used to defending some of the most despicable human beings I've ever met, does not mean you have the right to jeopardise this case." "As I assume you don't want an audience," George said a little acidly. "Shall we leave this till later?" "Yes," Jo replied, calming down a little. "I'll go and see Barbara, and if the worst happens, we can always submit Kay Scarpetta's report as evidence without questioning her." As Jo walked away, and George retreated outside to her car, she reflected that any passing court officials would think this was like the old days, her and Jo fighting in public, just as they once had done on so many occasions. She didn't want to see John now, because she knew she would end up telling him about their disagreement, and he didn't need that on top of everything else. She would see Jo later, they would sort everything out, and she would go and see John tomorrow when she was feeling happy again.