LORD
HUTTON was confident he had uncovered the truth. In Room 76 of the Royal
Courts of Justice, he declared that Britain's most eminent
microbiologist, David Kelly, killed himself by slashing his left wrist
with a garden knife after swallowing a batch of painkillers.
The scientist at the heart of the maelstrom over Iraqi weapons of mass
destruction had found the pressure unbearable. Publicly outed for
an illicit conversation with a BBC radio journalist, he was terrified of
losing his job and, at 59, he committed suicide. Lord Butler's
conclusions, founded on countless hours of testimony, are clearly
solidly based. Yet there are a growing number of people who voice grave
doubts over whether this is how Dr Kelly died in an Oxfordshire wood
during a summer night last year.
Even before Lord Hutton's historic judgment, Mai Pederson, an American
army intelligence officer and confidante of Dr Kelly, said the scientist
would never have taken his own life.
More intriguingly, she explained that he hated all types of pill. He
even had trouble swallowing a headache tablet.
Admittedly, Pederson is a shadowy figure who declined to present herself
in person to the Hutton Inquiry. Yet her doubts have been endorsed by a
number of respected doctors who say David Kelly cannot have died from
blood loss or painkiller poisoning, certainly on the evidence presented
to the law lord.
A public health consultant at Birmingham University has gone further. Dr
Andrew Rouse told the British Medical Journal's website that a
successful suicide by wrist slashing is so rare that the Office of
National Statistics does not even list such an act separately as a cause
of death.
Now these eminent doctors have been joined by others - among them
lawyers, business executives and former intelligence officers - asking
for answers to a series of worrying questions.
The Kelly Group, as this body styles itself, has written to the
Oxfordshire coroner, Nicholas Gardiner, urging that a full inquest into
the scientist's death be held. It was announced this week that Mr
Gardiner will decide on this matter after a special hearing later this
month.
'As concerned citizens, including amongst our number a specialist
surgeon and diagnostic radiologist, we have closely scrutinised the
testimonies given at the Hutton Inquiry,' the group wrote to him.
‘We consider that neither the police investigation nor the Hutton
Inquiry has demonstrated with any degree of rigour that Dr Kelly took
his own life.’
'We contend that the possibility that Dr Kelly's death was murder
dressed up as suicide has not been sufficiently explored. We believe
that the death should be treated as suspicious until a full battery of
evidence, including independently performed forensic evidence, has
proved conclusively otherwise.
So is this the conspiracy theory of over-fertile minds? In pursuit
of an answer I painstakingly looked at evidence to the Hutton Inquiry.
I talked to those who insist stones have been left unturned in the quest
for truth. My own inquiries have revealed riddles and inconsistencies
that, undoubtedly, back up the doctors' public unease about how Dr Kelly
died.
But first we must go back to 3.30pm on Thursday, July 17. when the
scientist left his home in the village of Southmoor to take his regular
afternoon walk. Nine hours later, at 12.20am, when he had failed to
return home, his wife Janice desperately rang Thames Valley Police to
report her husband missing.
The next morning, at 9.20am, Dr Kelly's body was discovered by a border
collie named Brock on Harrowdown Hill, a mile from the scientist's home.
Brock and his owner, 22-year-old Louise Holmes of the Thames Valley
Lowland Search Team, were assisting the police in their quest to find
Kelly.
With another volunteer, Paul Chapman, they had been trawling the woods
for 80 minutes when Brock started barking and ran back to Louise.
Unusually, the trained search dog sat on the ground as if alarmed by
something. It was left to Louise to walk to the spot where Brock had
first began to howl.
She told the Hutton Inquiry that she found the body with the head and
shoulders slumped against a tree. Chapman, 15 yards behind,
recalled specifically that Dr Kelly was sitting up. 'His legs were in
front of him. His right arm was to the side of him.
His left arm had a lot of blood on it and was bent back in a funny
position,' said Louise, who stood beside the body for a couple of
minutes. Crucially, neither she nor Chapman, a Scoutmaster, reported
seeing much more blood around the body.
Neither did they mention to the Hutton Inquiry seeing a Sandvig
gardening knife, a discarded and somewhat bloodied watch, even an opened
Evian water bottle, which were all recorded by police and ambulance
paramedics when they arrived half an hour later.
After the grim discovery, Louise rang the police at Abingdon, who
promised to send a team of officers immediately. She and Chapman then
began walking down the path towards their car. It was at this point that
they met three men dressed in civilian clothes who said they were
'Thames Valley detectives', one of whom showed his identity card. The
volunteer searchers directed the men to the site of the body and went on
their way.
From evidence to the Hutton Inquiry and an interview given to a local
newspaper by Louise, it is clear that the time was then 9.30am. What
happened next is a matter of conjecture.
But what we do know is that the three 'detectives' were left alone at
the site for 30 minutes before the uniformed police assigned from
Abingdon arrived at around 10am. Louise Holmes and Paul Chapman say that
they found Dr Kelly's body propped up against a tree. Yet the Abingdon
police contingent insisted to Lord Hutton that they discovered the
microbiologist lying flat on his back. All subsequent witnesses gave the
same story.
Not only did the body appear to have been moved, but crucially the
pruning knife, water bottle and watch were suddenly being mentioned by
witnesses at the scene.
At the Hutton Inquiry, Thames Valley detectives said they did not touch
Dr Kelly's body. But the intriguing puzzle does not stop there. Central
to the controversy is the small amount of blood found on, or near, Dr
Kelly and the question of whether he could have died from his knife
wounds.
Paramedic Vanessa Hunt, part of an ambulance team which spent around 15
minutes at Dr Kelly's side, told the Hutton Inquiry: 'There was a small
patch on his right knee, but no obvious arterial bleeding. There was no
spraying of blood or huge blood loss or any obvious loss on his
clothing.'
It was this key disclosure that has so worried British doctors,
including 63-year-old David Halpin, former consultant in trauma at
Torbay Hospital, Devon, and the radiologist Dr Stephen Frost, now based
in North Wales.
The
doctors contacted the Kelly Group and wrote to a national newspaper.
They said: 'To die from haemorrhage, Dr Kelly would have had to lose
about five pints of blood. It is unlikely from his stated injury that he
would have lost more than a pint.'
|
|
Another
medical expert and Fellow of the Royal College of Pathologists, Dr A
Peter Fletcher, added in a letter to the press: 'Anybody who has seen
five pints of blood spurted forcefully out of a severed artery will know
that there is one hell of a mess.’
'The two searchers who found the body did not even notice that Kelly had
incised his wrist with a knife.' A fifth medic, Professor Simon Kay, a
plastic surgery consultant at Leeds Teaching Hospital, was even more
robust when he entered the Dr Kelly debate.
He said: 'The popular view that a slit wrist is likely to prove fatal is
far wide of the mark. The natural and protective response of a divided
artery is to constrict and prevent life-threatening haemorrhage.
'Ways around this might include lying in a hot bath... but certainly do
not include lying in a cold field.' There are other tantalising
questions. Why did David Kelly, a world-class scientist, choose to kill
himself with what emerged at the Hutton Inquiry to be a blunt knife? And
why did he choose the ulnar artery, deep inside the wrist, which is hard
to get at and extremely unlikely to lead to death?
Martin Birnstingl, one of the country's most respected vascular
surgeons, insists it would be virtually impossible for Dr Kelly to die
by severing the ulnar artery on the little finger side of his inner
wrist. Mr Birnstingl was until recently President of the Vascular
Surgical Society of Great Britain and is a former consultant at Barts
Hospital, London.
He told the Mail: 'I have never, in my experience, heard of a case where
someone has died after cutting their ulnar artery. And I have seen
plenty of suicides.
'The minute the blood pressure falls, after a few minutes, this artery
would stop bleeding. It would spray blood about and make a mess but it
would soon cease. 'Kelly was in the know. He was a scientist. People
normally try to slash the radial artery in their wrist, the one which is
used to take a pulse. Or if they are really intent on death, they cut
the artery in their groin.'
At the very least, it was an extraordinarily painful and uncertain
suicide method for the former head of microbiology at the research
establishment of Porton Down; a man who was a world authority on toxic
substances.
Equally intriguingly, it would have been almost impossible for the
right-handed Dr Kelly to have slashed from left to right on his opposite
wrist, missing the superficial pulse-taking artery and cutting deep into
the ulnar artery.
There is also the matter of the three packs of the painkiller Co-Proxamol
found in Dr Kelly's coat pocket. They are believed to have been taken by
him from his arthritic wife's medical cabinet, although this was never
confirmed at the Hutton Inquiry.
And Dr Kelly's own doctor said he had never prescribed him Co-Proxamol.
When Dr Kelly's body was found, all but one of the 30 tablets were
missing. Could these 29 tablets on their own have been responsible for
ending his life?
According to the Hutton Inquiry, they did not. Only a fifth of a tablet
was later found, during an autopsy, in Dr Kelly's stomach.
Moreover, the blood reading of each of the drug's two components was
less than a third of what would normally be found in a fatal over- dose
victim.
What then of the scientist's mental state? As Dr Kelly set out on that
last walk, it was clear that he was deeply unhappy. Although Lord Hutton
said he was not suffering from any mental problems, the future must have
appeared gloomy.
A letter from the Ministry of Defence, found unopened on Dr Kelly's
desk, spoke of a possible disciplinary hearing.
Undoubtedly, he would have been told of its unpleasant contents before
its arrival at his home in the days before his death. What must have
been going on in Dr Kelly's head?
His hopes of returning to his beloved Iraq were disappearing fast.
Ironically, he had as many enemies there - where he challenged Iraqi
scientists with formidable zeal over their weapons' programmes -
as he did in Britain. When Dr Kelly interrogated one British-trained
Iraqi woman scientist at the centre of Saddam Hussein's chemical warfare
efforts, his questioning was so tough that she ran screaming from the
room. In Iraq, he was perceived as a tough opponent.
Dr Kelly had himself predicted in jest in only February 2003 that if
Iraq was attacked, he might be found 'dead in the woods'.
Meanwhile, in Whitehall he was being viewed as a somewhat troublesome
employee; perhaps a liability in the world of defence intelligence in
which he moved.
Dr Kelly was not prepared to cut his media links or be permanently
silenced. Was he now viewed as a security risk?
Had his extraordinary and unorthodox friendship with the
Egyptian-American Mai Pederson - one that was barely tolerated by the
Ministry of Defence — begun to count against him?
Controversially, he had been discussing book projects with Victoria
Roddam, an Oxford publisher who, in an e-mail to the scientist only a
week before his death, wrote: 'I think the time is ripe now more than
ever for a title which addresses the relationship between Government
policy and war - I'm sure you would agree?' She seemed to expect a
positive response.
There were other puzzles, too. Immediately the news of his suicide
broke, Dr Kelly's dental records were discovered to be missing from his
personal file at the local surgery.
His woman dentist, according to the Hutton Inquiry, reported the mystery
to police after finding an unlocked window at the surgery.
Yet - mysteriously - two days later the records reappeared back at the
surgery in Dr Kelly's buff file. Their temporary disappearance so
concerned the police that a DNA test was run on Dr Kelly's body to
ensure it was really him.
Among the bundles of evidence submitted to the Hutton Inquiry is also an
intriguing secret document marked: 'Not for Release. Police Information
Only’
The document, according to an audit of evidence in the public domain,
records a tactical support operation by Thames Valley Police during what
it terms a ‘major incident' on July 17 and July 18 of last year when
Dr Kelly was missing. It was called Operation Mason.
Thames Valley Police has told the Daily Mail that the Operation Mason
file details their investigation into the circumstances surrounding Dr
Kelly's death.
The audit shows that Operation Mason ended at 9.30am on July 18 as the
two searchers with the dog Brock walked away from Dr Kelly's body to
meet, by chance, the three detectives.
But more extraordinary was the time Operation Mason is said to have
started: at 2.30pm on July 17. Bizarrely, that is exactly one hour
before Dr Kelly set out on his final walk. And nearly ten hours before
his distressed wife rang the police to sound the alert over her missing
husband.
The contents of the Mason file remain strictly confidential. |