Without Consent by Kathryn Fox Page A

nurses’ holidays and superannuation, costs blow out.”
    “I couldn’t agree more. Good to see we’re on the same side.”
    With that, the lioness in canary’s clothing took her leave, to stalk some unsuspecting prey.
    True to form, Lyndsay materialized in the boardroom on the stroke of nine with an excessive pile of papers.
    “Welcome everyone, we’ve got a lot to get through today. So if we can get seated.” She deposited herself at the head of the table. “Today we’ll be joined by Jennifer Beck, from the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions, whom we all know. She wants to discuss ways to increase the effective collection of evidence.”
    Complying, the six doctors and four social workers took their places alongside a Detective Inspector from the Physical Evidence Section and the department’s own representative.
    Anya glanced at Mary Singer, one of two people present she deemed allies. Mary responded with a wink.
    A document was immediately passed around the table with Anya’s name on the top. She felt her pulse quicken as she recognized the correspondence. This was a private letter written to her by a leading UK forensic physician on the topic of photography in sexual assaults—Lyndsay Gatlow’s favorite agenda. The one agenda she hoped would make her National Director of SA units responsible for hiring and, in Anya’s case, firing.
    So far, Gatlow had managed to convince the police that photos would be ideal for court. It sounded good in theory: if a photo of a crime scene was convincing, photos of anatomy should be far more effective than an expert’s verbal evidence. Worse still, she believed the evidence would be irrefutable.
    Anya’s experience suggested the opposite. Photos could be misinterpreted and it was too difficult to control access to them. She felt that lawyers and even the attacker viewing photos of genitals added to the victim’s abuse.
    Detective Chief Inspector Haddock flicked through the handout and clearly focused on the underlined section. “The president of the International Association for Forensic Physicians seems to think that photography of all wounds is likely to result in more convictions. Isn’t that what we all want?”
    Lyndsay Gatlow interrupted, barely able to contain her excitement. “I think we should do things properly, and according to the agenda, so everything said can be documented in the minutes, don’t you agree?”
    For the first time, the group unanimously concurred, delaying the inevitable fight Anya was bracing herself for. Her name was back on the menu.
    Feeling the heat on her neck rise, she couldn’t believe Gatlow had got hold of private correspondence to her from a colleague, then had the gall to present it publicly. Predictably, Gatlow had taken his comments out of context. The missing pages in the letter outlined why photography had been unsuccessful when trialled in the UK.
    Anya controlled her irritation as the agenda covered the usual—rosters, specimen collection, chain of evidence and inadequate storage facilities in SA units for the number of assaults seen. This inevitably led to disposal of vital evidence that could be useful in the future, something which frustrated police and lawyers, but didn’t increase the funding for the units.
    “Now,” Lyndsay announced, “I’d like to table a document by one of the world’s foremost proponents of something we must embrace if we are to move into the next era of evidence collection—colposcopic photography.”
    Mary Singer interrupted, “Excuse me, but why are you tabling this?”
    “That’s what I’d like to know,” Anya started. “It is a private letter never intended for public dissemination.”
    Anya had written to colleagues in the UK discussing the advantages and disadvantages of using the equivalent of a microscope on a flexible tube to examine and photograph inside women’s vaginas.
    Lyndsay Gatlow smiled—insincerely. “Why, I phoned the author personally and he