There was a merchant in Bagdad who sent his servant to
market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came
back, white and trembling, and said, Master, just now when I was
in the market-place I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when
I turned I saw it was death that jostled me. She looked at me and
made a threatening gesture; now, lend me your horse, and I will
ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra
and there death will not find me. The merchant lent him his horse,
and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and
as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went
down to the market-place and he saw me standing in the crowd and
he came to me and said, Why did you make a threatening gesture to
my servant when you saw him this morning? That was not a threatening
gesture, I said, it was only a start of surprise. I was astonished
to see him in Bagdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight
in Samarra.
The Expert Witness
'Damn good drive,' said Toby, as he watched his opponent's ball
sail through the air. 'Must be every inch of 230, perhaps even 250
yards,' he added, as he held up his hand to his forehead to shield
his eyes from the sun, and continued to watch the ball bouncing
down the middle of the fairway.
'Thank you,' said Harry.
'What did you have for breakfast this morning, Harry?' Toby asked
when the ball finally came to a halt.
'A row with my wife,' came back his opponent's immediate reply.
'She wanted me to go shopping with her this morning.'
'I'd be tempted to get married if I thought it would improve my
golf that much,' said Toby as he addressed his ball. 'Damn,' he
added a moment later, as he watched his feeble effort squirt towards
the heavy rough no more than a hundred yards from where he stood.
Toby's game did not improve on the back nine, and when they headed
for the clubhouse just before lunch, he warned his opponent, 'I
shall have to take my revenge in court next week.'
'I do hope not,' said Harry, with a laugh.
'Why's that?' asked Toby as they entered the clubhouse.
'Because I'm appearing as an expert witness on your side,' Harry
replied as they sat down for lunch.
'Funny,' Toby said. 'I could have sworn you were against me.'
Sir Toby Gray QC and Professor Harry Bamford were not always on
the same side when they met up in court.
'All manner of persons who have anything to do before My Lords
the Queen's Justices draw near and give your attendance.'
The Leeds Crown Court was now sitting. Mr. Justice Fenton presided.
Sir Toby eyed the elderly judge. A decent and fair man, he considered,
though his summings-up, could be a trifle long-winded. Mr Justice
Fenton nodded down from the bench.
Sir Toby rose from his place, to open the defence case. 'May it
please Your Lordship, members of the jury, I am aware of the great
responsibility that rests on my shoulders. To defend a man charged
with murder can never be easy. It is made even more difficult when
the victim is his wife, to whom he had been happily married for
over twenty years. This the Crown has accepted, indeed formally
admitted.
'My task is not made any easier, m'lud,' continued Sir Toby, 'when
all the circumstantial evidence, so adroitly presented by my learned
friend Mr Rodgers in his opening speech yesterday, would on the
face of it make the defendant appear guilty. However,' said Sir
Toby, grasping the tapes of his black silk gown and turning to face
the jury, 'I intend to call a witness whose reputation is beyond
reproach. I am confident that he will leave you, members of the
jury, with little choice but to return a verdict of not guilty.
I call Professor Harold Bamford.'
A smartly dressed man, wearing a blue double-breasted suit, white
shirt and a Yorkshire County Cricket Club tie, entered the courtroom
and took his place in the witness box. He was presented with a copy
of the New Testament, and read the oath with a confidence that would
have left no member of the jury in any doubt that this wasn't his
first appearance at a murder trial...
