Reputation Or A Life?
At present, we seem to be facing a continuous series of public enquiries on some weighty matters.
I detect a trend. Let’s consider three such enquiries: the infected blood scandal, the sub-postmasters, and Lucy Letby. What do they have in common? Answer: in every case, those at the head of the organisation thought it essential to protect the reputation of the organisation, even to the extent of putting lives at risk. That’s an extravagant thing to say, but is it right?
We need only look at the Post Office for a catalogue of examples: the investigators telling all the sub-postmasters who complained that they were the only ones who found fault with Horizon; the Post Office agreeing to pay Second Sight as forensic accountants to investigate for the sub-postmasters, but then sacking them as soon as they started to dig deep; the Rev Paula Vennells’s tears when giving evidence, poor thing; the IT expert witness who appears to have committed perjury when prosecuting the postmasters for fraud; the jailing of Seema Misra when pregnant; Lee Castleton and many others bankrupt; the suicides, the losing of homes and dignity… And for what? To preserve the fallacy that Horizon was fault-free. Yes, the Post Office put people’s lives and livelihoods at risk because their reputation was more important.
I want to concentrate today on the Lucy Letby case because a public enquiry is currently running on this case, too, so that “lessons may be learned”. We have seen many instances where whistleblowers in the NHS, even very senior clinicians, have had their careers wrecked because they have recognised the importance of preserving life, a worthy aim which managers didn’t share because it was more important to preserve the good name of the hospital.
In the Lucy Letby case, doctors took their suspicions to management but were not listened to, and babies died. Eventually, the story came out, but for a while, the good name of the Countess of Chester Hospital was preserved.
Now, I don’t make any judgment on Lucy Letby’s guilt or innocence. She has had her Crown Court trials, her hearing by the Court of Appeal, and her case considered by the Criminal Cases Review Commission. She is still considered guilty of murdering seven tiny babies and threatening the lives of seven more. I just want to concentrate on two aspects of the case: the reputation theme, and staff rotas. Staff rotas? Read on!
On the first, I can be brief. Several doctors came to the chief executive and told him they had suspicions about Lucy Letby. They were rebuffed, to the extent that they were forced to apologise to her. Chief Executive Tony Chambers, speaking at the public enquiry, says he regrets that, and that lessons have been learned. Oh good! But for a while, his main aim of preserving the hospital’s reputation was achieved. And babies died.
On the second, the public enquiry has learned that a study of the staff rota in the neonatal unit showed that several members of staff could have been present when each baby died, so did Lucy Letby do the deed, or was it some other nurse? I don’t know the answer to that, but it reminds me of a case I was involved in a few years ago.
It was a disciplinary case before the General Pharmaceutical Council (forensic accountants must be versatile!). A pharmacist was working in a branch of a multiple chemist; it could have been Boots, or Superdrug, or one of the others – no matter. This pharmacist had been accused of ordering excessive quantities of a particular drug. The trouble was, this was the major ingredient in the recipe for crystal meth. So now it was serious.
I was engaged as an expert to help in his defence. I explored two aspects.
The first was that the ordering procedure was slack in the extreme. Supplies could be ordered from two terminals in the shop, in the retail area and in the pharmacy. Anyone could go on to these terminals, without user name or password. Why, even the delivery driver would sometimes re-arrange his round there. So any staff member could have ordered the offending drug.
Second, I did an exercise with the staff rota. Allowing for part-timers, holiday, sickness etc, I was able to demonstrate that any one of several staff members were there when the drugs were ordered. So why was this pharmacist the only one under suspicion?
There was a hearing, in a swish office suite at Canary Wharf in London. Towards the end of the first week I gave evidence on my report. The lady barrister for the Council challenged me that this case had nothing to do with accountancy. It was classic cross-examination: if you can’t fault the expert’s opinion, discredit the expert. It didn’t work; I explained to the chairman that stock control, ordering procedures, staff rotas were all meat and drink for forensic accountants. After that, my cross-examination didn’t last long.
So the case was going well for the pharmacist.
But at the start of the second week, the employer’s investigators produced some CCTV film. It was time-stamped, as were the orders in the warehouse. And together they showed that our chap was at a terminal, ordering drugs, at the precise times that the orders had come in. There was no doubt about it, he had ordered all the offending drugs. He was guilty.
Of course, one may question why this CCTV film hadn’t been produced months earlier; the whole case would have been settled without a hearing, and without all the work I had had to do. Without that film, the guilty pharmacist may well have got away with it.
I wonder if Lucy Letby can put another appeal together, she may be able to use the staff rotas more effectively.
