but not his title. Rathbone put it down with a stiff hand, his fingers shaking. He no longer wished even tea or toast.
Harvester began the day by calling Dr. Gallagher to the stand. Rathbone wondered whether he had intended calling him even before the question of murder arose late the previous day. Possibly he had foreseen the newspaper's reaction and been prepared. Harvester did not seem anxious. But then he was far too good an actor to show what he did not wish to have seen.
Gallagher, on the other hand, looked extremely uncomfortable. He climbed the steps to the stand awkwardly, tripping on the last one, only saving himself by grasping the railing. He faced the court and took the oath, coughing to clear his throat. Rathbone felt a certain pity for him. The man had probably been nervous attending the Prince in the first place. It had been a very serious accident, and he might well have expected to lose his patient and be blamed for his inability to perform a miracle. He must have been surrounded by people in deep anxiety and distress. He had no colleagues upon whom to call, as he would have had in a hospital. He must be wishing that he had demanded a second opinion, someone from London, so he would not now have to bear the responsibility alone - and, if there were to be any, the blame.
He looked white; his brow was already beaded with sweat.
"Dr. Gallagher," Harvester began gravely, striding out to the middle of the floor. "I regret, sir, having to place you in this position, but you are no doubt aware of the charges that have been made regarding the death of Prince Friedrich, whether mischievously or with sincere belief. The fact remains that since they have been made in public, we cannot now allow them to go unanswered. We must find the truth, and we cannot do that without your full testimony."
Gallagher started to speak and ended coughing. He pulled out a white handkerchief and put it to his mouth, then when he had finished, kept it in his hand.
"Poor man," Zorah whispered beside Rathbone. It was the first comment she had passed upon any witness.
"Yes, sir, I understand," Gallagher said unhappily. "I will do all that lies in my power."
"I am sure you will." Harvester was standing with his hands behind his back - what Rathbone had come to realize was a characteristic stance. "I must take you back to the original accident," Harvester continued. "You were called to attend Prince Friedrich." It was a statement. Everyone knew the answer.
"Where was he and what was his condition when you first saw him?"
"He was in his rooms in Wellborough Hall," Gallagher replied, staring straight ahead. "He was on a board which had been brought upstairs because they feared the softness of the bed might cause the bones to scrape against each other were he unable to be absolutely flat The poor man was still conscious and perfectly sensible to all his pain. I believe he had requested this himself."
Rathbone glanced at Zorah and saw her face stiff with knowledge of the Prince's suffering, as if in her mind it still existed. He steeled himself to search for guilt as well, but he saw no shadow of it.
He turned to look across at Gisela. Her expression was totally different. There was no hie in her face, no turmoil, no anguish. It was as if every emotion in her were already exhausted. She had nothing whatever left.
"Indeed," Harvester was saying somberly. "A very distressing affair altogether. What was your diagnosis, Dr. Gallagher, when you had examined him?"
"Several ribs were broken," Gallagher answered. "His right leg was shattered, broken in three places very badly, as was his right collarbone."
"And internal injuries?" Harvester looked as grim as if the pain and the fear were still alive and present among them all. In the gallery, there were murmurs of pity and horror. Rathbone was acutely aware of Zorah beside him. He heard the rustle of her skirts as her body twisted and became rigid, reliving the horror and uncertainty of that time. He did not mean to look at her again, but he could not help it. There was a mixture of feelings in her features, the extraordinary nose, too long, too strong for her face, the green eyes half closed, the lips parted. At that moment he found it impossible to believe she could have caused the death which followed after.