Down Among the Dead Men_ A Year in the Life of a Mortuary Technician - Michelle Williams [58]
When we finally arrived, Bill Baxford was waiting just outside the court doors. ‘Hello, doc. We’ve started, but don’t worry, the Coroner understands.’
‘Thank God for that.’
‘There’s something else, though . . .’
Ed immediately became suspicious. ‘What?’
Bill’s a nice bloke; he was brilliant with the families and I had seen him almost in tears after interviewing them. He had a huge sense of humour, though, and was always ready to help if he could. ‘The family’s barrister has been in to see the Coroner . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘She had some new information for him to consider. He thought you ought to know.’
Ed was looking more and more stressed. ‘Information? What information?’
But at that moment the clerk of the court came up to us. Ed was due in the witness box.
The small court room was packed. I just managed to squeeze in at the back. The Coroner was a large man with a round face and thick-rimmed glasses. He was dressed in a black three-piece suit and had a laptop beside him, and a pad of paper in front of him. Opposite and below him at the front of the court was a row of five people, all smartly dressed. Behind them was what I assumed was the family – some old, some young. Around me were police officers, paramedics and several others whose function I couldn’t guess. The witness box was on the left of the Coroner and Ed, having recited the oath from memory with a Bible held high, announced who he was and what his qualifications were.
Then, at the Coroner’s request, he went through his PM report. It soon became clear that there were certain points the Coroner wanted to emphasize, because every so often he would stop Ed and ask for clarification. ‘So, you examined the body very carefully for signs of trauma?’ ‘You’re absolutely certain that there were no scratch marks on the neck?’ ‘There was no sign that the wrists had been tied?’
At the end of Ed’s evidence, the Coroner asked, ‘How long have you been a consultant pathologist, Dr Burberry?’
‘Twelve years.’
‘And how many autopsies have you performed in that time?’
‘I would say over two thousand.’
‘And how many hangings?’
‘Certainly over fifty. Maybe close to a hundred.’
The Coroner thanked him and then turned to the people immediately in front of him. ‘Miss Christy. Do you have any questions?’
A small young woman with long blonde hair stood up. She was dressed in a white blouse and a black suit. I thought she was very nervous, which surprised me. ‘Yes, I do, sir,’ she said in a hesitant, almost trembling voice. Turning to Ed, she asked, ‘Mrs Mellors was naked.’
‘Apparently,’ he said.
‘Tell me, Dr Burberry. Have you ever before known a person to hang themselves in the nude?’
Ed considered this for a moment. ‘No. I think this was a first.’
‘Don’t you think it’s a little odd that Mrs Mellors should have chosen to hang herself when unclothed?’
The Coroner said at once, ‘Miss Christy, could I ask you what you consider to be an appropriate dress code for hanging yourself?’
She looked surprised. ‘Well, I don’t know . . .’
‘So, I’m sure we can’t read too much into the fact that she was unclothed, can we?’
She looked at him open-mouthed for a while, then agreed, ‘No, sir.’
‘Good. Carry on.’
It was obvious that she had to spend a few seconds pulling herself together before she asked, ‘You did toxicology, Dr Burberry?’
The Coroner said at once, ‘He’s told us that.’ He said it with a smile on his face, but I could tell from his voice he was annoyed.
‘Yes, sir,’ she said deferentially. To Ed she said, ‘And it was negative?’
‘Miss Christy . . .’ said the Coroner with a sigh.
Quickly she asked Ed, ‘What about insulin? Would the toxicology lab have been able to detect that?