Dr Finlay's Casebook (16 page)

‘He’d spit on your hundred and throw it back at you!’

‘Should we offer to compound the damages, say about five hundred?’

‘Dinna be a bloody fool, man! That wad undermine our whole position.’

A quiet voice, that of the Chairman of the Board, quickly stilled the meeting. ‘Gentlemen, we have made a crassly stupid and damaging blunder. Now there is nothing for us but to face the
music and make the best o’ a bad job.’

When it became known that the
Herald
would fight the case, the date being set for the fifth of next month, excitement in the town ran high and intensified in a rush to secure places in
the gallery of the court, admission being only by stamped ticket. These precious squares of cardboard were bartered in the local pubs and as the date drew near changed hands for unbelievable
amounts of cash.

During this preliminary turmoil both Finlay and Alex Cochrane remained perfectly quiet and in good spirits. In fact, they played several games of golf together, returning to take tea at the
convent. On one of these visits Finlay left behind a large oblong box which carried the label of a first-class women’s shop in London.

At last, in a final surge of excitement the fateful day arrived. From an early hour crowds gathered outside the Assize Court, so impatient for news that it took a solid barrage of police
sergeants to keep the more boisterous from rushing the gates. When the
Herald
management arrived, accompanied by their legal advisers, they received a greeting of mingled cheers, boos and
hisses. Nothing was seen of Finlay and his lawyer, who had reached the court by the upper entrance accompanied by a lady who, naturally, was veiled. Below, as the lucky holders of tickets poured
in, they were greeted jealously by shouts, groans and every conceivable variety of filthy abuse, together with abortive attempts at ticket snatching.

At last the town clock struck ten sonorous strokes and, with the court filled to capacity, the proceedings began.

When the jury had been sworn in, the Clerk of the Court read out the charge against the owners and management of the
Herald
: that the article printed in the issue of 26th July was false,
bigoted and seriously damaging to the persons specified therein.

The order was then given that the specified article be read aloud. In an even, unemotional voice, the Clerk of the Court slowly read the article in question, a performance greeted in the gallery
by cheers and laughter, immediately suppressed.

Mr Alexander Cochrane then rose. His first question was to the lawyer for the defence, a Mr J. M. Taylor, from the City of Edinburgh. ‘Do your clients stand by every word of the article in
question?’

‘They do, sir, every word is the living truth.’

This brought more cheers from the gallery.

Mr Cochrane then proceeded to call to the witness box the various individuals mentioned in the specific article.

The first to be called was Mr Jock Boscop. When Jock was in the box, freshly shaved and sharp as a whip, Alex Cochrane said, ‘Jock, is it correct to say that you make the night run from
Whinberry for your employers, past the convent to Tannochbrae, returning by the same way?’

‘It is correct and a fact, sir!’

‘On the night of the supposed escape did you pick up a young lady who hailed you outside the convent gate?’

‘I did indeed sir. I see her there now, sitting very lovely with the
Herald
gentlemen.’

‘You picked her up, Jock, and gave her a lift to Tannochbrae?’

‘I did indeed, sir. And a verra cheery companion she was, sir. We chatted and laughed all the way to town.’

‘Did she appear distressed in any way?’

‘Not in the slightest, Mr Cochrane, sir. I coulda’ gaen a lot furder wi’ her than just to Tannochbrae.’

Mild laughter from the gallery.

‘So the young lady did not walk one foot of the road to the town?’

‘Not a foot, sir.’

Mild sensation in court.

‘Jock,’ continued Mr Cochrane, ‘did you happen to notice the condition of the convent gate, that great big steel gate with sharp steel points on the top bar?’

‘Are ye coddin’ me, sir – that convent gate is a wooden three-bar field gate and forbye it’s never shut. It’s aye open and that’s how it was on the night ye
mention.’

‘Thank ye, Jock. Just one more question: Did the lass seem depressed, worn out, beaten up?’

Jock laughed heartily. ‘You’re certainly kiddin’ me, sir. The lass was in high spirits, laughin’, talkin’ and singin’ all the way home. “I’m for
fun, now, Jock,” she says, “and I’ll make some money, the easy way.” ’

‘Did she give you anything for all your trouble?’

‘Certainly she did, sir. Out came a ten bob note frae her purse. I didna want to take it, for I thocht it might be mair fun tae tak’ her out another nicht.’

‘Jock, you’re a man of your word. Did she seem like she might gie ye some fun?’

‘That’s a true word, sir.’

‘So she wasn’t all beaten up, worn out, with her hands cut and bleeding?’

‘Sir! Now ye are coddin’ me again. There wasna a mark on her. She was fresh as a daisy.’

‘Thank you, Jock. Every word you have spoken has the ring of absolute truth.’

The opposition lawyer got to his feet.

‘Boscop!’ Jock remained on the stand. ‘Are you not generally regarded as a drunkard, who would do, or say, anything for a good stiff whisky?’

‘Produce the man what says that and I’ll mak’ him eat his words.’

There was dead silence in the gallery, then a man stood up and shouted at the pitch of his lungs:

‘I have kenned Jock Boscop all his days and never once have I seen him drunk or tell anything that wasna true!’

‘Enough, Boscop,’ said the lawyer for the defence. As Jock retired Mr Cochrane got to his feet.

‘May I ask Miss Lane to take the stand.’

After she had done so, to great cheers from the crowd, Cochrane addressed her as follows:

‘Miss Lane, here we have a report which gives the lie to your written statement. Firstly, the convent gate. You describe it as a high steel structure, firmly closed, with steel spikes that
ripped and tore your hands. Do you admit that this description is a complete and deliberate lie?’

‘I wanted to make my report as bad as I could.’

‘So you lied! Was it for this reason that you slid down a rope from your window instead of quite simply walking out of the front door?’

‘The same.’

‘And when you arrived at the Royal Hotel did you beg humbly for a little room, or proudly demand the best suite in the house, the Princess?’

‘I demanded the Princess Suite.’

‘And asked for all your beautiful clothes to be sent to you from storage?’

‘Why torment me, sir? I dressed up in my very best then went out to visit Mr Albert Caddens.’

‘You captivated him?’

‘That was unnecessary. When he saw me he went down like a felled bull!’

A laugh, quickly suppressed followed this.

‘You were in great form when he took you to view the beautiful Jaguar sports model that he wanted to give you.’

‘I love beautiful cars.’

‘That afternoon, being sure of the Jaguar, and with the
Herald
’s £500 cheque in your pocket you went happily out on the town, cashed the cheque at the bank and with all
this money in your pocket, you bought yourself a hat, sheer silk stockings, a pair of fine yellow doeskin gloves, a large box of Fuller’s chocolates, and a pair of the finest patent leather
shoes. And, in this orgy of luxurious spending on yourself, you bought, for Mr Caddens, your aged lover, a very cheap Woolworth tie! Upon arriving home, you locked the balance of the
Herald
money safely away in your trunk, a good sum of more than £400.’

‘Yes I locked it away and much good it will ever do me now. I have lied myself into such a mess I will never get out of it. If only I could be back again in the convent, to find peace
again. I realise now that I was really happy there. We had the prayers, but we had lots of games and fun, and walks out into the country. And to speak humbly and truly, I had begun to like the
prayers. They made me realise that the Lord God was with us and that we were his children.’

As she broke down, pandemonium broke out, shouts of abuse but also of sympathy and pity. In the midst of it all, from her seat in the front row of the auditorium, a figure in a neat, light grey
dress stepped out to the centre of the court and, with arms outstretched, embraced the weeping girl and held her closely, saying, ‘Of course you may come back to me my poor child, whenever
you are free and permitted to do so. You will find there are no dungeon punishment cells, no steel barrage gates with nails fixed all over the bars. You will come back to a large and lovely garden,
a little chapel in which you may pray at will and, above all, to forgiveness and forgetfulness that will in time heal your wounds. Love will conquer all.’

Now, indeed, as the Mother Superior ceased to speak, a great roar of mixed emotions soared to the roof of the court. Cries of sympathy and pity, yells of derision centred mainly on the
Herald
, and cheers and more cheers for one man who, in the face of the entire town had dared to bring the case to court and, against public opinion and so powerful an antagonist as the local
paper, had brought light out of darkness, justice against bigotry and perjury.

At this point, an interruption occurred. Alex Cochrane was on his feet, demanding silence. Then, in the stillness of that great mass of humanity he spoke, loud and clear.

‘My lord, I pray you! Before you close this case and give judgement may I bring to your notice a horrible unjustified calumny in the
Herald
. My best friend, whom I have known since
boyhood, a man who spends his life helping the sick, who has been praised and honoured by the Town Council, is referred to in the
Herald
report as being
unspeakable
. This word is a
disgusting, derogatory term. One might say unspeakable filth, a low unspeakable brute, an unspeakable rascal, cheat, thief, or even an unspeakable cad. To apply such a word to the young doctor who,
from the moment of his arrival, has served this town faithfully, brilliantly, with all his energy and skill, who has won both local and national esteem by the splendid manner in which he has given
his house, a gift of the town, to the treatment and care of sick and handicapped children, is in itself unspeakable. May I inquire if this slur has been slung at my dear friend because he has had
the courage to stand up to defend and protect an aged Catholic woman, head of an establishment where many of Finlay’s patients have been tended and cured, yes to stand up against the rage and
hatred of religious bigotry.’

A short, electrifying pause, then Alex Cochrane continued, ‘It has been my great good fortune to know and become friendly with Finlay when we were boys at school – I at Rossall and
Finlay at Stonyhurst, an equally famous school that has been called the Catholic Eton. Finlay’s father died when his son was only seven years of age. However, Finlay’s uncle was not a
man to shrink from his responsibility. He sent the boy to Stonyhurst where, as he grew up, Finlay not only became captain of the football team, but captain of the school as well. Ah! What battles
he and I fought on the football field. These were surely the beginning of the affection and admiration I have for him. Meanwhile Finlay’s uncle and benefactor had moved ahead in his spiritual
profession, first Bishop, and now Archbishop of the See of Dee and Don in Aberdeenshire.’

A pause followed, so tense that Alex delayed for a full minute before delivering his final punch.

‘With such a history, do you wonder that Finlay’s response to the poor maligned Mother Superior was immediate and imperative. Of course he is a Catholic, for so he was brought up.
Does that make him unspeakable? Now that you know his history do you want to put him in the pillory with the Mother Superior? Mind you, I am not saying that our Dr Finlay is scrupulously faithful
to the rules of his religion,’ a slight pause while a wave of suppressed amusement passed over the listeners, ‘but he is, yes Finlay is, a Catholic. Now, I ask you, does this make him
unspeakable?’

A great roar of negation came from the mass that crowded the gallery and was followed by such cheering as had never before been heard in that old and dreaded building.

Now, indeed, the
Herald
and its supporters were silenced, defeated and routed. When at last order was restored the judgement was firm and immediate.

‘The voice of the public has spoken. And not for the first time, has expressed correctly, completely, convincingly, the judgement of the law, which awards damages in the amount of
£5,000 to the Mother Superior of Bon Secours and five hundred to the most worthy, most esteemed, most beloved member of our town, Dr Finlay.’

A great burst of cheering greeted this verdict and was continued and maintained until the court was cleared, and Finlay had wisely made his escape by the lower inner door. Quickly he reached his
car, parked in the private garage, and quickly he was home where, with open arms, Janet awaited him.

‘Oh, Finlay dearest lad! I could jump for joy. Now quick! Here’s some special beef broth I have ready for ye! Drink it smartly! They’ll be down after ye!’

As Finlay drank the delicious soup he said inquiringly, ‘And Dr Cameron?’

‘He’s done no’ bad, sir, when he thocht ye were gonna be bate he was quite chirpy, and went about the hoose whistlin’. But the verdict cam’ out that ye’d won
yer case and a’ the money, he just took to his bed. He’s there the now.’

Now came the sounds of a great crowd approaching and surrounding the house, shouting for Finlay.

‘I’ll have to go on to the balcony, Janet. Get Dr Cameron up there, even in his dressin’-gown.’

With that Finlay stepped out through the open windows of the front bedroom and was immediately greeted by a great surge of cheering from the enormous crowd.

‘Finlay! Finlay for ever! Finlay belongs to us!’ The shouts continued until Finlay raised both arms.

‘Thank you! Thank you, dear friends of Tannochbrae! Just when I needed you, when I had been libelled in our good paper, you gave me your support. Now that I am free of worry, you see me
here, back on the job, ready to serve you in sickness and in health with my two wonderful colleagues.’ At that precise moment Janet pushed out Dr Cameron in his dressing-gown and, as Finlay
caught her by the arm and pulled her out, she stood between the two, blushing all over her face.