Benjamin Atkins

By Philip James

Benjamin is a British solicitor from London who lives in Notting Hill Gate with his wife, Rebecca, and two children, Darian and Linda. He works for Clyde & McKinley LLP, a small American law firm that offers pro bono services to prisoners on death row. Benjamin represents Charles Thomas, a Texan prisoner on death row days from being executed. Christopher Heidenreich, a director of civil liberties and Benjamins friend, asks him to represent Charles.

On his first visit to the States, land of the free, home of the brave, he is accompanied by Jasmine, a medical doctor and human rights advocate and is strongly supported by attorneys from Claude & Butler LLP, which Christopher arranges. As they get closer to the truth, discovering information that reflects the innocence of their client and reveals a cover-up, high-profile officials are implicated, including a plutocrat, which brings danger to his family back in London. Discover the voyage, the many rivers and hazardous obstacles they need to cross in this epic story across two continents, encompassing commitment, friendship, teamwork, sacrifice, tenacity, determination, rectitude, and an immovable stance for human rights.

The basic concept underlying the [story] is nothing less than the dignity of man Furman v Georgia, 29 June 1972.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503544789

Philip James

Philip James is a British author born to Jamaican parents and currently lives in London, where he is the company director of a small music and film company. This is the first book from the author and is in no way his magnum opus; his best work is yet to come. He is currently working on his second project.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

T HE RAIN POURED heavily on a cold wet November night in the city of London in St Pauls. Benjamin, a lithe thirty-five year old Tort solicitor of Afro-Caribbean decent, worked for a small staid American Law firm called Clyde & McKinley LLP in Davensbury Square. The firm has twenty-eight other employees consisting of seventeen men and eleven women. The solicitors worked in a big office plan while the senior solicitors have their own offices at the back of the plan. The Firm specialised in Clinical Negligence, Intellectual Property, Civil Litigation and Criminal Litigation, which includes free legal services ( Pro Bono ) for pecuniary defendants facing the death penalty in the United States. The Firm was also expanding its practice by managing minor Commercial and Company Law disputes. Benjamin specialised in Civil Litigation, Criminal defence and Clinical Negligence. Criminal defence was standard practice for all qualified solicitors. Benjamin however, had no major interest in it. He instead possessed a fervent enthusiasm for providing pro bono services to prisoners on Death row in the United States. He had passed the American Multi-state Bar that allowed him as a British citizen to practice in New York and California. His experience in providing pro bono defence to death row prisoners in the US made him adept in the American Criminal Justice system.

Benjamin stood by his desk staring through the office window after taking a five-minute break from the case he was preparing. He overlooked the small square across the road. The square had well-trimmed hedges and a black five-foot loop-and-spear fence and gate formed the perimeter. It was open until six o’clock during the winter and stayed open as late as nine o’clock during the summer. A garden sat on the left of the square that blossoms one set of flowers in the summer like the Catmints, Hyssops and Michaelmas Daisies, which attracted the butterflies while the Alyssum and Bluebells allured the bees; and during the winter, the garden bloomed Trilliums, Tulips, Winter aconites and giant Himalayan Lillies. Some Aristocratic white and blue agapanthuses surrounded the four park benches, while branches from the Cedar tree behind them overhung and provided good shade in the seating area during the summer months. The Himalayan Lillies also provided some dappled shade for those visitors that sat on the benches closest to the large sculptured urn behind the arum lilies, bergenia and winter grasses. The rest of the square was covered in well-trimmed and maintained evergreen grass. A dining pergola with sleeper benches was situated in the centre where, the employees would sit and eat their sandwiches at lunch while they socialised in the fresh air. A narrow buff smoothed pavement lead from the gate to the seating areas.

Benjamin could see the pedestrians rushing to get out of the pouring rain. Many could be seen huddling up in the ticket machine area of St Pauls Underground Station. Some were walking quite relaxed under the comfort of a large umbrella, while others were caught off guard, walking briskly, hugged up under a coat which covered their heads. They tried to keep their balance while avoiding coalesced puddles and the inadvertent splashes from the cars passing by. The rain pitter-pattered hard against the window and filtered out the frequent succession of beeping car horns, which came from the main road. The volatile wind continued to blow the rain in all directions.

Benjamin looked at the large chrome clock that sat on the wall: eight-fifteen, it showed. Benjamin’s wife, Rebecca was standing in the kitchen chopping up some cabbage with a mixture of vegetables. Music from an urban music station was playing in the background. Benjamin decided to give her a call. The cordless in the kitchen rang three times. She placed the knife down on the chopping board, walked over to the table and picked up the phone. Hello? she said.

Hi! Benjamin replied.

Oh! Hi Ben! My Nubian King! Are you on your way home?

I am just checking in. I am running a little late but I should be home very soon. Benjamin’s overtones sounded almost apologetic as if he was telling her, I know I am late home for my forth time this week. Clyde and McKinley had been subject to a search order since Frau-Neuberger Pharmaceuticals plc brought an action against them. The drugs company were a former client of the firm, who accused them of disclosing trade secrets to their competitors, confidential information that the firm obtained during solicitor-client privilege. The claimant had now taken the draconian measure of including a search order to obtain further documents their lawyers believed are pertinent to their case.

Rebecca was completely aware of his plight and empathetic to the fact that he had to stay behind later than usual. She responded with a voice that reflected her understanding and support.

"I have just put the kids to bed, and now I am going to prepare a Spicy Catalan Chicken Stew for you. It’s a recipe that I found in the Sunday Telegraph while searching for the crossword page. Rebecca changed her tone so that Benjamin could savour the succulence of her ingredients. She waited for his response before moving onto the next. There’s Ginger. Crushed garlic. Fresh thyme. And, coconut cream. One of the things Benjamin loved Rebecca for was her cooking; one of the many skills that she has acquired through watching her mother from a young age. Her mother, Miriam, is a top professional in Hospitality and Tourism, gained from many years of experience. On your way home, can I ask that you pick up a ‘Chive and Parmesan Loaf’? That one specifically if you can, I think it will go best with our meal. Otherwise, we can have rice."

Benjamin wrote it down on a yellow post-it note. Sure! I’ll get that for you, he said.

For that short moment, the pressure of work melted away while he enjoyed their brief conversation. Benjamin began to feel more relaxed and Rebecca noticed the change in his vocal inflections. Rebecca’s subtle scintillations of pleasant overtones and support made Benjamin feel appreciated and special for that moment. She virtuously made him feel that everything he does is worthwhile. A specially cooked meal gave Benjamin something extra to look forward to when he arrived home. Okay, honey! I will see you when you get home, she tells him, in the captivating voice that he likes. I love you, she added.

I love you more he said, as a customary closing endearment that they were used to telling each other.

Frau-Neuberger Pharmaceuticals plc lawyers had deliberately enlarged the search order by adding an ancillary order, which vastly increased the firm’s workload. The team managing the administration were further encumbered with the stipulation that, they had forty-eight hours to deliver all the relevant documents into the claimant’s possession. Having to verify by affidavit the disclosure of all the names and addresses of persons that had been involved in the disputed case could severely damage the reputation of the firm. It would leave Clyde and McKinley’s trustworthiness in question. Jason, the Head Solicitor, felt particularly constrained by the abrupt modus vivendi. Despite the workload, Benjamin’s temporary administrative drudgery became less relentless after speaking to Rebecca. The piquant details about his expected chicken stew had made him more avid and eager to reach home.

The accusations were false and the employees knew that the accusations were unsubstantiated. The drugs company had recently suffered economic loss to their previous defendants and were looking for devisable ways to recuperate their losses. Dr Clyde and Mr McKinley from their head office in Memphis had already informed Jason that their lawyers would be making an application to the court to discharge the order, for multiple breaches of procedure.

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There was a creaking sound as Jason opened his office door. He had been meaning to spray some lubricant on the hinges except, he would never get around to it because something else would always take precedence. The creaking allowed those sitting closest to his office to hear when he was coming. He liked to sneak up on them and catch them doing things they should not be doing until the creaking door took away his fun. Jason was a robust man of tall height and well accomplished. His colleagues described him as astute, clever, sagacious, and renowned for his legal acumen and dignified appearance and smart attire. He is Benjamin’s close friend and thirteen years his senior, with a slightly lighter complexion. Benjamin looked up to Jason and learned a lot from him. He was his chaperone when he first started in the firm. They shared a good friendship outside of work and became closely affiliated when they realised their fathers came from the same Parish of St Andrew, in Jamaica. Benjamin’s’ father is a Christian Minister and their fathers had served as members of the same church in the past. Rebecca was also good friends with Jason’s eldest daughter Laila, who is also the Godmother of Rebecca’s seven-year-old son, Darian.

Jason walked down the isle towards Benjamin desk. Benjamin was in the middle of sending an important email when Jason breaks his concentration. Benjamin, how is the Mandeville Hill case going? he asked, referring to a case where a patient had suffered an idiopathic epileptic seizure. She had fallen off her bed and fractured her hipbone before the nurses arrived. The claimant alleged that the hospital was negligent after the bed’s right side bar was left down when it was standard practice for the bar to be left up at all times. Benjamin collected his thoughts as he tried to defragment his mind.

"The defence argues that under the ‘Bolam test’ they complied with standard professional practice and deny any breach of care. I am waiting for Doctor Gatin to send me his medical opinion. He has already implied in our brief telephone conversation earlier. He disagrees with the hospital based on the facts. I know nonetheless, ultimately the court and not Dr Gatin’s opinion will decide on what standard of care is required."

True! Jason said, as he helped Benjamin collate the facts and place his case into perspective. "That brings to my mind the old Re Herald of Free Enterprise Disaster that appeared in The Independent newspaper in the late eighties. The Divisional Court found in that case that their general and culpable complacency is no defence for a breached standard of care."

Benjamin knew that the Divisional Court primarily dealt with points of law in criminal matters, so he asked, Was this a tort case?

A Crown Court appeal case for corporate manslaughter, Jason replied. The ruling said, ‘Neglect of duty does not cease by repetition to be neglect of duty’, reciting Lord Tomlin’s words verbatim.

Benjamin felt more confident about his case now he realised that the "Bolam test" was not conclusive and, the courts were likely to condemn the defendant’s actions as unreasonable. He told Benjamin to keep him posted on the case, and then suddenly sprang up and walks sprightly towards a worker who was heading for the stairs.

The clock hands were now showing nine-minutes-past-twelve, and the working day was finally over. Benjamin tidied his desk, placing his paperwork into a tidy pile and locking away any sensitive documents. He finally shut down his computer, pushed his swivel chair under his desk and walked to the coat stand. Like Jason, Benjamin was also a man of portly appearance. He put on his black Fedora hat, his camel brown scarf and black Kashmir Coat. He then said a quick goodbye to Matthew, a young, twenty-five year old junior solicitor with thick short ginger hair and of medium height. Occasionally, they would have lunch at the Moon under Water Brassiere in nearby, Chancery Lane. Matthew loved the social kudos that his status as a city lawyer brought him. He was at that age where he was finding himself and would often go out of his way to impress the women on his evening nights out with his friends - often going out into the City, the West End or wherever their carefree spirits would lead them. See you tomorrow, God willing, Benjamin said, as he heads for the exit with his hand in the wave formation.

See you mate, Matthew replied.

CHAPTER TWO

B ENJAMIN PULLED UP to the Caves local grocery store in his silver Audi A6 Ultra. He put his hat firmly on his head, got out of his car and tucked his chin into his scarf. He locked his car doors and walked towards the small convenient store with his hands pushed deeply into his pockets. He goes to the isle that stacked the various selections of bread and searched until he found the Chive and Parmesan Loaf. Benjamin also enjoyed cooking on the weekends from time-to-time. Cooking up a spicy curry sauce this weekend came to Benjamin as an afterthought. He followed his mind and picked up a tube of tomato puree, a handful of red chillies, a packet of fresh tomatoes, a tin of coconut milk, a packet of Tamarind flavouring and a medium-sized packet of basmati rice. Benjamin cannot decide at this point whether the curry will be served with diced beef or chicken breast fillets, so he decided to buy a little help from Rebecca who no doubt would add a few tips of her own. A young Columbian cashier Andrea handed Benjamin his change. Thank you, Benjamin told her.

You’re Welcome, she replied. Goodnight!

Goodnight.

Benjamin was almost home. He was waiting at a set of traffic lights on the main road when Jason’s earlier conversation regarding the Mandeville case came back to his mind. He had conditioned himself not to take the firm home with him, so he felt strange mulling over the complexities of this case. He had deduced that Jason simply had him thinking. If the medical opinion slanted in his favour he would endeavour to enter into ‘without prejudice’ negotiations with the hospital in the hope of securing a settlement, he thought. That way, if the negotiations fail, the privilege would prevent the defence from using any proposals put forward against him. He sincerely hoped a settlement would be reached so his caseload would be significantly reduced.

Benjamin lived in a three-bedroom house in Maraval Street in Notting Hill Gate. He arrived to find another vehicle parked in his usual space so he decided to park down the street. Benjamin opened his front door where he is met by the sweet aroma of fried garlic, onions and fresh thyme. He walked into the kitchen and put his keys and groceries on the kitchen table. He then walked over to the Dutch-pot, which was simmering on the small hob on the simple island, in the centre of the kitchen. The hob, also shared the island with a large bowl of fruit, containing oranges, apples, pears, grapes and bananas, a small ‘Rosette Clover’ houseplant and a white plastic chopping board used for slicing bread.

Rebecca, a Neuropsychologist PhD and Junior Lecturer who specialised in the branch of Phrenology and worked part-time at the Queen Mary’s College of London Hospital, was sitting in the front room immersed in a Cognitive Science Journal. She wanted to get up off the sofa and greet him, yet she felt tied down by the Journal in her lap, which kept her so engrossed. It was the clanging sound of the Dutch-pot lid as it lifted that sprang her out of her comfortable chair, causing her to rush towards the kitchen. Benjamin took a wooden spoon from the utensils draw below the worktop. She watched him sneakily with one eye from behind the door, ready to pounce as soon as he put the spoon to his mouth. Eventually, she decided to reveal herself with a more delicate approach.

Benjamin took a small spoonful from the pot, blew it cool and then put it to his mouth, which satisfied his long awaited eagerness. Rebecca approached him slowly from behind. So, what do you think? she asked, in a quiet dulcet voice and a crafted tender wry smile. Benjamin turned around where she appeared to him in a pair of turquoise silk pyjamas that he had bought her at the Victoria Peaks during their trip to Hong Kong. Benjamin liked these pyjamas; he admired how lustrous they appeared against her dark and clear cocoa complexion. Rebecca had smooth healthy skin through healthy eating, vitamin E and regular moisturising of the skin.

Very nice! he told her, his face aglow with glee.

Rebecca drew her body closer to his and placed her arms around his lower back, closed her eyes, and then tilted her head up and kissed him with her succulent lips. She removed her arm slowly and took a step back. She looked at him with her piercing dark ebony eyes and then smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth with perfectly shaped cusps. I’ll share the food. You go and get yourself ready, she said.

While the stew took its time to simmer, Benjamin took a quick shower and slipped into some evening clothes. He sat in the sitting room and relaxed in his daddy’s chair. He took the remote balanced on the arm of the chair and switched on the TV.

Ben, mom called, Rebecca shouted, from the kitchen. She wants us to fly over to Florida for Christmas.

Oh, does she? he asked, rhetorically. That would be nice.

Yes! We have not been since Laila’s been born, so it would be great if we can make it this year. We need to start planning from now if we are going to make it happen.

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Rebecca’s parents, John and Miriam Thompson live in Tampa on the west coast of Florida. They are Afro-Caribbean descendants from the island of Jamaica, and have lived in the United States for the last twenty-three years, immigrated to the States when Rebecca and her younger sister were small. The Thompson family co-own a small 15 bedroom Guesthouse in Tarpon Bay with four others. The small villa, known as the Gingerbread Inn, had recently been renovated with creative aesthetics and glamorous and colourful accents that could be seen in the art on the walls. Rebecca had explained the psychology of colour to her mother in times past and how colour affected mood, and influences people subliminally throughout their lives. Many guests had commented on their appreciation for the colourful tile-work. Mrs Thompson’s love for greenery and plants also made the Inn appear uniquely lush, luxurious and opulent. The Inn attracted tourists and backpackers travelling with small pockets. Her hospitality and catering services made her guests cheerful and created an intimate atmosphere.

One of the reasons Benjamin enjoyed taking his family to visit the in-laws is so he could listen and observe Rebecca lose herself as she takes him around her childhood playground. They would usually sit upstairs soaking up the sun from the upstairs patio while he allowed her to allure him into her catalogue of childhood dreams. The Gingerbread Inn was also the place where Rebecca grew up. The family had separate living quarters in a spacious eight-bedroom house with an east and west-wing opposite to the Inn gardens, with extensive grounds. A large lime-green tiled swimming pool sat in the middle of the garden and marked the boundary between the Gingerbread Inn and the family residents. Laila would often remind Rebecca and at times, accuse her of being a first-class bona fide ‘Jamerican’ - an American citizen born to Jamaican parents. Rebecca would usually be teased when she was so passionately absorbed in a game played by the Miami Dolphins on satellite, or her cheering on her favourites during the Women’s Softball Tournaments.

Benjamin and Rebecca enjoyed their meal in the front room. The wall lights were put on dim. His fork unintentionally scraped against the plate as he wolfed down his evening meal. Rebecca who was sitting on the single settee could see that Benjamin was enjoying his food. This is very tasty, he said, with his head in the plate. It has a strong savoury flavour just the way I like it. I can taste the onions, definitely taste the garlic, the thyme, the paprika, I just can’t quite make out what’s giving it that tang.

It’s probably the Perrins Worcester Sauce, she said.

That’s it? Benjamin said, with Rebecca responding with a warm smile and a sequence of small nods. Benjamin put the last spoonful in his mouth and said, It’s definitely an eight out of ten from me.

Thanks honey! she responded, tilting her neck slightly to her left, her fairly full lips becoming an alluring smile; one of her subtle idiosyncrasies when she knew that Benjamin appreciated something from her. Alternatively, sometimes, she would use it with her turn-away smile and feminine wiles to coax him into something she wanted him to do.

The time was now approaching eleven when Rebecca walked into the room with two mugs of Green & Blacks Organic Cocoa made with hot milk, and a pinch of nutmeg. She walked up to the coffee table and placed his mug on top of the coaster with the name Benjamin on it. She then closed the door and snuggled up next to him cosily on the black leather sofa, and rested her head on his shoulder. Benjamin placed his arm around her and asked, How was your day?

Rebecca who was beginning to feel a little lethargic came alive. Her eyes now luminous with joy shot wide-open and lethargy fled. It was as if she had been yearning to tell him about work all evening. She turned her whole body to engage him with one leg tucked under the other, and regaled him with a vivid account of her day.

I have been meaning to tell you all day. A subtle amber-glow radiated from her dark ebony skin. Today, a patient named Ronald who has ‘Blindsight’ came to the university. Benjamin had a basic understanding of Psychology, most of which, he learned from his countless conversations with Rebecca, as well as reading her books and looking up concepts that he did not understand. He would occasionally, such as now, look forward to tales-of-the-unexpected.

I had to conduct some tests on him. He developed Blindsight when he fell off a ladder at work and fractured his occipital bone. Rebecca shows Benjamin where the bone is on the back of his head using her finger. It’s that knobbly bit at the back of the skull. Do you feel it?

I do, he replied.

The impact of the fall caused a lesion to form in the right-field of his visual cortex in the V1 area. The cortex is the outer bark, or the surface of the lobe. Rebecca turned her head and placed her finger on the V1 area towards the left of the knobbly bit of her skull. She told Benjamin how Ronald had only being conscious of one-side of the world since his accident. His Blindsight caused him to ignore anything on his right hand side, or anything that did not fit within his left visual field. For example, he would only tie the lace on his left shoe and would completely ignore the right shoe. Another, observation she recorded was that he would only shave the left side of his face and leave the right side unshaved. She noticed that he would only comb his hair on his left side, leaving the other side completely untouched, which caused a parting to appear in the centre of his head. Another of her findings was that he only wrote on the left half of the page. He would split the paper into two vertical columns and only wrote in the left column, leaving the right side blank. Rebecca believed he had Visual agnosia and had run her findings by Meredith, her colleague who agreed with her. She just had to run some further tests before she could confirm.

Benjamin was completely thrown by Rebecca’s acumen. He was intrigued by Rebecca’s earlier experiences that she shared with such elucidation and animation. He admired the way she knew exactly how to make her tales sound captivating, cutting out all the scientific nomenclature for his understanding. That is totally surreal, he said.

Rebecca looked at him and said, Well, ophthalmologists recorded their earliest cases of Blindsight at the beginning of the twentieth century in the British Journal of Ophthalmology. There are also many reported case studies of Blindsight across various disciplines. Rebecca gave him an example of a well-documented case study of a thirty-five year old man who displayed a very similar pattern of behaviour after suffering carbon monoxide poisoning. She explains how he suffered with Visual Agnosia and demonstrated a profound inability to recognise objects on one-side of his visual field. Another case she explained, holding Benjamin’s attention, dated back to 1986 where an artist became colour-blind and constricted to seeing in shades of grey after he damaged his occipital cortex. The study reported that his agnosia made him very sad, and unlike Rebecca’s patient, he found his colour blindness profoundly unbearable. It’s the first patient I’ve worked with that has Blindsight, which makes it all the more fascinating. It helps me place things that I have read in theory into practical context.

She placed her head back into his shoulder, and took a sip of her hot drink, which was cooling on top of the coaster with her name on.

So when do you see him again? he asked.

Tomorrow she replied. That’s when I will complete the rest of my tests. He’s such a nice guy.

Rebecca had taken him to the Roscoe’s Bakery for lunch. She bought a turkey salad baguette and a cup of tea for her, while Ronald bought a toasted Panini that was cut into two pieces and a cold drink. They sat at a table and had a coherent conversation regarding the current political affairs. Ronald drank his tea and Rebecca noticed that he had only eaten one-half of his Panini.

Eat the other half, she said, pointing to the other half in the plate. He was obedient to her demand eating it without question, as if he was unconscious of the other half on his plate.

They were lying in bed and Rebecca was almost asleep. A maelstrom had revolved in her mind and she could feel herself swirling weightlessly further and further down its eye until her hypnogogic sensations sends her to that abyss of unconscious serenity. She was the type of person that fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Benjamin had his side light on reading a book called ‘This Gilded African’: Toussaint L’Ouverture written by Wenda Parkinson; a book about an eighteenth century slave, who was one of the first to lead the Negro race to freedom. Some believe that Toussaint L’Ouverture, and not William Wilberforce should have been the one credited for the abolition of slavery in the West Indies. He had just started chapter nine, where he sat observing a picture of Napoleon on the rocks of St Helen by Delarocho. After two pages, he closed the book and switched off his side light. Becky, are you awake?

Rebecca’s eyes opened slowly. She was veering with some annoyance between her apathetic torpor and a curiosity to discover what he wanted.

No, she replied.

If he’s only conscious of one side of the world, did you ever think about bringing that to his attention?

That’s a good question. No, I did not sweetie. It wasn’t my objective, and it didn’t appeal to me at the time. Just as Rebecca drifted off to sleep Benjamin asked, If you had informed him, what do you think he would have said? Rebecca’s eyes opened again slowly as the question took time to register. She asked herself did I hear a question, or did I not as her brain worked arduously to connect from a reposed state. She closed her eyes again and replied, "I doubt he would have any idea of what I am talking