At last, even though only fleetingly, a portrait took shape of Dr Philip Polkinghorne in his trial for the murder of his wife.
Up to a dozen ladies and gentlemen of the nationalgutter press have camped out in the High Court of Auckland since last Monday to follow this strangely Victorian case of sex and death.
The defence is that Polkinghorne’s wife Pauline Hanna died by suicide on April 5, 2021. The prosecution alleges that he strangled her, and then had the wit and determination to construct the hoax that she had hanged herself.
Much of the trial has necessarily focused on the forensic examination at the Remuera address where Pauline was found dead. But on Tuesday morning, something different, something personal, a sketch of Polkinghorne conducted in bright summertime light, was presented to the court.
A friend of Polkinghorne and his wife was called to give evidence. Stephen MacIntyre appeared on a videolink from the High Court at Wellington. The use of filming at this trial has been quite peculiar; last week, a Canadian rope analyst burst on to a videolink, his long, old face looming over the screen - it was as though he’d never placed a Zoom call before, and figured the best way to go about it was to stick his face as close as possible to the camera. It made him look terrifying.
It made him look like novelist William Burroughs, thin-lipped and severe, a prophet of doom. MacIntyre was filmed from above, and from a distance; he sat inside the witness box in Wellington, with no one and nothing around him, and it made him look lonely, distant, isolated.
He had once been close friends with Polkinghorne. They summered together with their wives for about 25 years at the baches they owned in the beautiful horseshoe bay of Rings Beach on the Coromandel peninsula. The two men went fishing, diving, swimming. All the classic New Zealand summers enjoyed by the bach-owning class - MacIntyre was a ship’s captain, Polkinghorne a very successful eye doctor.
MacIntyre sketched a portrait of a great guy. “He was a very intelligent, funny, witty, generous man. We had a lot of laughs together.” He said everyone at Rings Beach knew Polkinghorne by the affectionate name “Polky”.
Good old Polky! It was easy to imagine; there is a humour to Polkinghorne even as he sits in court at his murder trial, concealed in a suit. Not quite concealed. Matthew, 7:16: “By their fruit you will recognise him.” Polkinghorne wears his true self, his flair for comedy, on his socks. Every day, a new, vibrant pattern. Monday: stripes in garish colours. Tuesday: grapefruit. That’s Polky (“funny, witty”) for you.
But things started to change, MacIntyre said in court. In the last year or 18 months before Hanna died, the couple seemed to visit Rings Beach less and less at long weekends. As well, Polkinghorne started to look different. “His physique changed. He became slimmer, and more muscley. And he was manic and irrational at times.”
Philip Polkinghorne arrives at the High Court in Auckland. Photo / Michael Craig
Crown prosecutor Brian Dickey: “What do you mean by that?”
MacIntyre: “I thought he was using drugs.”
He thought Hanna was losing weight, too. Ron Mansfield KC, acting for Polkinghorne, asked him about the couple’s apparent weight loss, in his cross-examination.
MacIntyre: “I felt that he must be spending a lot of time in the gym. He went from being a normal guy to being quite buff.”
Mansfield: “Were you aware that they were watching what they were eating, as well as training.”
MacIntyre: “No. I was aware they were training.”
Mansfield: “No bad thing, is it?”
MacIntyre: “Not at all.”
There was a bit more of this kind of thing - confirming that both Polkinghorne and Hanna were going to the gym, and wanting to gain muscle tone - and a different kind of portrait began to emerge. It was not a portrait of Polkinghorne. It was a portrait of Stephen MacIntyre, his so-called “friend”.
Mansfield: “You mentioned Dr Polkinghorne’s ‘generosity’. Well, you’ll remember having an issue with your eyes, and calling him, leaving a message, and him calling you straight back, and he told you to get to Auckland immediately, and you were worried about his other patients, but he said he would clear the decks to see you.”
MacIntyre: “Correct.”
Mansfield: “So when you needed him, he was there for you.”
MacIntyre: “Correct.”
But, said Mansfield, after news media reported the “unexplained” death of Hanna, MacIntyre told police he had concerns about Polkinghorne’s behaviour. Yes, replied MacIntyre, that was correct, too.
The witness box in Wellington looked like a raft. MacIntyre, ship’s captain, lavishly moustachioed, “friend”, was its only occupant. Justice Graham Lang thanked him for his time, and said, “We will now terminate the videolink.” Fade to black.
The trial resumed its forensic examination. Dr Polkinghorne, once upon a time good old fun-loving Polky paddling the azure waters of the Coromandel, jiggled his foot beneath his desk at court, and made the pineapples dance.
