Defend and Betray - Anne Perry [150]
“Indeed, I am coming to that. You say that Mrs. Carlyon, the accused, began to exhibit signs of extreme distress-indeed you used the word hysteria?”
“Yes—I regret to say she did,” Hargrave agreed.
“What did she do, precisely, Doctor?”
Hargrave looked uncomfortable. He glanced at the judge, who met his eyes without response.
“The question disturbs you?” Rathbone remarked.
“It seems unnecessarily—exposing—of a patient’s vulnerability,” Hargrave replied, but his eyes remained on Rathbone; Alexandra herself might have been absent for all the awareness he showed of her.
“You may leave Mrs. Carlyon’s interest in my hands,” Rathbone assured him. “I am here to represent her. Please answer my question. Describe her behavior. Did she scream?” He leaned back a little to stare up at Hargrave, his eyes very wide. “Did she faint, take a fit?” He spread his hands wide. “Throw herself about, have hallucinations? In what way was she hysterical?”
Hargrave sighed impatiently. “You exhibit a layman’s idea of hysteria, if you pardon my saying so. Hysteria is a state of mind where control is lost, not necessarily a matter of uncontrolled physical behavior.”
“How did you know her mind was out of control, Dr. Hargrave?” Rathbone was very polite. Watching him, Monk longed for him to be thoroughly rude, to tear Hargrave to pieces in front of the jury. But his better sense knew it would forfeit their sympathy, which in the end was what would win or lose them the case—and Alexandra’s life.
Hargrave thought for a moment before beginning.
“She could not keep still,” he said at length. “She kept moving from one position to another, at times unable even to remain seated. Her whole body shook and when she picked up something, I forget what, it slipped through her fingers. Her voice was trembling and she fumbled her words. She wept uncontrollably.”
“But no deliriums, hallucinations, fainting, screaming?” Rathbone pressed.
“No. I have told you not.” Hargrave was impatient and he glanced at the jury, knowing he had their sympathy.
“Tell us, Dr. Hargrave, how would this behavior differ from that of someone who had just received a severe shock and was extremely distressed, even agonized, by her experience?”
Hargrave thought for several seconds.
“I cannot think that it would,” he said at last. “Except that she did not speak of any shock, or discovery.”
Rathbone opened his eyes wide, as if mildly surprised. “She did not even hint that she had learned her husband had betrayed her with another woman?”
He leaned a little forward over the rail of the witness box. “No—no, she did not. I think I have already said, Mr. Rathbone, that she could have made no such dramatic discovery, because it was not so. This affair, if you wish to call it that, was all in her imagination.”
“Or yours, Doctor,” Rathbone said, his voice suddenly gritted between his teeth.
Hargrave flushed, but with embarrassment and anger rather than guilt. His eyes remained fixed on Rathbone and there was no evasion in them.
“I answered your question, Mr. Rathbone,” he said bitterly. “You are putting words into my mouth. I did not say there was an affair, indeed I said there was not!”
“Just so,” Rathbone agreed, turning back to the body of the court again. “There was no affair, and Mrs. Carlyon at no time mentioned it to you, or suggested that it was the cause of her extreme distress.”
“That is …” Hargrave hesitated, as if he would add something, then found no words and remained silent.
“But she was extremely distressed by something, you are positive about that?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. When did this occur, your first observation of her state of mind?”
“I have not a precise date, but it was in July of last year.”
“Approximately nine months before the general’s death?”
“That is right.” Hargrave smiled. It was a trivial calculation.
“And you have no idea of any event at this time which could have precipitated it?”
“No idea at all.”
“You were General Carlyon’s physician?”
“I have already said so.”
“Indeed. And you have recounted the few occasions on which