by Hunter, Cara
Puttergill grins. ‘I was on roster anyway and this place is a hell of a sight nicer than the Cowley Road squad room. Doesn’t smell of cabbage for a start.’
Conway smiles drily; Puttergill’s only six months out of police training college. He’ll learn.
‘Anyone else here?’
Puttergill shakes his head. ‘There’s a cleaner around looking after the kid. Funny little bugger – took one look at me and ran off like a bat out of hell.’
Conway looks sardonic. ‘Next time, try not to pull your baby-frightening face.’
Puttergill laughs. ‘Just wait till he sees you in your nuclear war gear.’
The other curse of CSI – airtight onesies in a heatwave. Brings a whole new meaning to ‘high’ summer.
Conway raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, unless you’ve stumbled over a corpse in the conservatory, I think I can wing it with the basics.’ He opens his case and pulls out a mask. ‘Right, sooner I start, sooner I get a beer.’
* * *
Video-Recorded Interview with Caleb Morgan, conducted at the Holm Oak Sexual Assault Referral Centre, Oxford
7 July 2018, 6.15 p.m.
In attendance, DC V. Everett; observing by video link from adjacent room, DC G. Quinn
VE: OK, as I explained outside, I’m going to try to get as much detail down now as I can, so we have as full a statement as possible. We don’t want to ask you to go through this again if we can avoid it, so please try to tell me everything you can remember, OK?
CM: OK.
VE: And like I said, we are recording this, and if there’s a court case this tape may be used in evidence. Do you need me to explain anything more about that?
CM: No, I understand. And I’ve got the leaflets and stuff.
VE: OK, perhaps I could ask you to start by telling me how you came to be at Professor Fisher’s house yesterday evening.
CM: I was babysitting. She was at that dinner so I was babysitting Tobin.
VE: Have you done that before?
CM: [nods]
Yeah, I do it a lot. The money’s useful and Tobin’s a nice kid. I have a brother who’s only a bit older than him. Well, half-brother really, but I’m used to being around boys his age.
VE: Is it common for dons to use their students as babysitters?
CM: [shrugs]
I don’t know anyone else who does it. But that’s Marina all over – she’s not really one for sticking to the rules.
VE: That’s what you call her – ‘Marina’?
CM: Most of the postgrads call their supervisors by their first names – it’s no big deal.
VE: How would you describe your relationship?
CM: [quickly]
It’s not a relationship – not like that, anyway.
VE: I wasn’t implying anything. I’m just trying to get a full picture. So you weren’t just tutor and student, would that be fair? Given that she trusts you with her child?
CM: I guess. We have a laugh. And she really is phenomenal. Intellectually, I mean. Seriously cutting-edge. What I said about her not sticking to the rules, I meant it in a good way – you can’t just do the same old same old, not in our field. You’ve got to take risks, challenge the status quo.
VE: Sounds like you admire her.
CM: [shrugs]
Anyone working in AI would give their eye teeth to be supervised by Marina. I was mega excited when I found out. I never thought it would end like this.
VE: But up until last night there’d never been anything else between you? It had been purely professional?
CM: [nods]
VE: So tell me what happened last night. What time did you arrive at Monmouth House?
CM: 8.00, 8.15. Something like that.
VE: And did you spend any time together then?
CM: She was about to leave, but we had a quick drink before she went – she said she needed a bit of Dutch courage. There was a lot at stake, so I guess she was feeling the pressure a bit.
VE: What did you drink?
CM: I had a beer. She had white wine.
VE: And when did she get back?
CM: Must’ve been about 11.15, perhaps 11.20.
VE: And you were where, at that point?
CM: In the kitchen. Downstairs, on the lower ground floor.
VE: And how was she – what was her mood like?
CM: Boy, she was really flying. Couldn’t stop talking – about how well it’d gone, how impressed they’d been. Sounded like she’d completely blown them away.
VE: Did she appear intoxicated?
CM: Well, yeah – I mean, it was a dinner, so she’d had a few. Quite a few, if you ask me.
VE: What happened next?
CM: She said she was celebrating and went to the fridge to get a bottle of champagne. She asked me to open it.
VE: And you did that?
CM: I started saying I didn’t really want any and I had to get back, but she just laughed at me and said of course I wanted some. I said was she sure she wanted to open champagne when it was already so late – I guess I was really asking if she needed any more, given she’d obviously had quite a lot already.
VE: But you didn’t put it in quite so many words?
CM: No, well, she was still my supervisor, wasn’t she? Anyway, she said I had to have at least one glass because she couldn’t celebrate on her own. Then she said she was hopeless at the corks and would I do it, so I did.
VE: And then what happened?
CM: [silence]
VE: Mr Morgan?
* * *
Adam Fawley
7 July 2018
19.24
Fisher’s lawyer is a fearsome operator by name of Niamh Kennedy. I’ve crossed swords with her before. She won’t have come cheap, that’s for sure, especially on a Saturday night. The premium service obviously includes collecting a complete change of clothes, because Fisher is now in full-blown Cath Kidston mode – floral dress, cotton cardigan, ballerina flats. All of it no doubt carefully selected by Kennedy to make her client look as far removed from a sexual predator as humanly possible. She even has her hair in bunches, no doubt for the same reason. The result is a bizarre Alice in Wonderland vibe which is already starting to weird me out. There’s nothing childlike about Fisher’s face though. She looks hollow-eyed and haunted. Alice woke up and found it was all a dream; that ain’t going to be happening here.
I take my seat next to Asante, open my file and go through the requisite procedural box-ticking. And I mean that literally: Kennedy sits there marking off the list of PACE requirements as we go, and makes sure I see her doing it. After all that, finally, we can begin.
I sit back. ‘OK, Professor, perhaps you could talk us through your version of last night’s events.’
The answer is quick; she was expecting this.
‘Caleb had offered to babysit for me while I was at the dinner at Balliol.’
‘Offered, or you asked?’
She blinks. ‘OK, I asked.’
‘And he’s done that before – yes?’
She glances away. ‘A few times.’
She’s not meeting my eye; she knows she’s on thin ice here, but I have fatter fish to fry than minor infractions of college procedures.
‘What time did you get back after the dinner?’
She shrugs. ‘Eleven fifteen? Something like that.’
‘And you’d been drinking?’
She looks at me now. There are two spots of colour in her cheeks. ‘Of course I’d been drinking. It was an eight-course dinner. Everyone was drinking. I admit I had a lot more than I normally would, but I wasn’t drunk. Absolutely not.’
‘So what happened when you got home?’
‘I went downstairs to the kitchen. I could hear Caleb down there. He had some music on and he’d been working on his laptop at the kitchen table. We chatted for a bit.’
‘About his research?’
‘No, not really.’
The colour on her cheeks is deepening. I sense Asa
nte shifting next to me. Kennedy reaches across and touches Fisher lightly on the arm. ‘It’s OK, you can say.’
‘Look,’ she says, ‘he was flirting with me, all right? He does it a lot. It doesn’t mean anything.’
‘And were you flirting back? I mean, he’s an attractive lad –’
She stares at me now. ‘A lot of men flirt with me, Inspector, and a fair number of women too. Other academics, students, university administrators; chancers in all three of those categories and chancers in general. I don’t take any of it seriously.’
I nod slowly. ‘So then what?’
‘He said we should have a drink. To celebrate my so-called “triumph”.’ There’s a bitter note in her voice.
‘So-called? I thought you’d secured a big-cheese donor – isn’t that worth celebrating? Hilary Reynolds gave me the impression it was a tour de force.’
She gives an acid little sigh. ‘Funnily enough, it doesn’t feel much like that any more.’
‘But it would have done last night, surely? Before all this happened?’
She sits back. ‘He said we should celebrate. He got the champagne out of the fridge. He opened it. OK?’
‘So the two of you had a drink together. Just the one glass?’
She flushes again. ‘I think so.’
‘You think? You don’t remember?’
‘I remember I spilt some – on my dress. I remember him filling my glass again.’
She glances at Kennedy, and then at me. Evidently something else they’ve already discussed.
She takes a deep breath. ‘After that, it gets a bit hazy.’
* * *
VE: Mr Morgan?
CM: [fidgeting with his water bottle]
VE: I know this is tough –
CM: She started coming on to me, all right? I was leaning back against the worktop and she came up really close. Like, pressing her body against me. She started asking me if I fancied her.
VE: And do you – did you?
CM: [flushing]
Kind of. I mean, she’s a lot older than me but she’s pretty hot. All the postgrads think so. And she looked amazing in that dress – anyone would have thought she looked sexy –
VE: It’s not a crime to find her attractive, Mr Morgan.
CM: Caleb. You can call me Caleb.
VE: So what happened next?
CM: [takes a deep breath]
Well, she was definitely drunk by then. She’d kicked off the stilettos but she was still swaying, like she couldn’t stand up straight. And she was slurring her words. Even if I’d wanted to – there’s no way I’d have done anything about it with her in that state.
VE: But you might – under other circumstances? If you thought she knew what she was doing?
CM: [pause]
In theory, perhaps. But only in theory – it’d have been a complete nightmare in practice. For my research, I mean. And anyway, I’ve got a girlfriend. It just wouldn’t be worth the colossal amount of shit it would’ve caused.
VE: What happened next?
CM: She started touching me – through my clothes. My shorts. She said, you know, that it proved I did fancy her.
VE: [softly]
You had an erection.
CM: [nods]
But that didn’t mean –
VE: It’s just a physical reaction, Caleb. It’s not something you can necessarily control. It doesn’t mean that any of this is your fault, and it certainly doesn’t mean you weren’t assaulted.
CM: [pause]
VE: Can you go on?
CM: [looks away, nods]
* * *
Adam Fawley
7 July 2018
19.47
‘You’re saying you don’t remember what happened next?’
Fisher shakes her head.
Kennedy leans forward. ‘Look, what exactly is this Caleb Morgan alleging?’
‘He says Professor Fisher made physical sexual advances, and continued to do so even when he made it clear that he was saying no. Intercourse did not take place, but she did touch him in the groin area.’
Fisher is shaking her head. ‘This is some terrible, ghastly misunderstanding. There is no way –’
She looks down, puts a hand to her lips, breathes. Then she looks up again. ‘Is Caleb OK? I mean, that’s the only explanation – he must have had some sort of breakdown –’ Her voice falters. ‘Look, he’s been under a lot of pressure lately. His research –’
‘So, to be clear, you’re telling us you don’t remember any physical contact with Mr Morgan?’
‘No.’
‘And the bruising on your wrist – how did that come about?’
She tugs at her sleeve, then realizes she’s doing it and lays her hands flat on the table. ‘As I told your technician, it was probably my son. Children are surprisingly strong and don’t always know what they’re doing.’
If she’s aware of the irony in that last remark she gives no sign.
‘What about this morning?’
She frowns. ‘What about it?’
‘When you woke up – were you in your own bed?’
‘Of course I was –’
‘Fully dressed? Nightclothes, what?’
Fisher raises an eyebrow, derisive. ‘I don’t bother with what you so quaintly refer to as “nightclothes”, Inspector.’
‘So you were naked, but you don’t remember how you got there?’
She shrugs. ‘My gown was on the back of the chair, my shoes in the rack. Everything was as it should be. Apart from the fact that I had a headache and a raging thirst, and a child long overdue his breakfast. Don’t tell me that’s never happened to you.’
‘And it didn’t concern you that you couldn’t remember much about the end of the evening? Has that ever happened before?’
She sighs heavily. ‘Once or twice, if you must know. Usually after champagne. I really should avoid Bollinger last thing at night.’
As fuck-yous go, that was about as deft as it gets.
‘That being the case, when we’re done here I’m going to ask our CSI officer to take a blood sample. Just so we can all be absolutely clear exactly how much alcohol we’re talking about.’
Fisher glances at Kennedy, who nods. ‘They’re allowed to do that.’
Asante sits forward. ‘What about the dress?’
Fisher frowns. ‘What about the dress?’
‘Why did you rush to get it cleaned?’
‘I told you. I spilt wine on it. I didn’t want to leave it in the wardrobe in that state. I was worried it might not come out if I didn’t have it done quickly.’
‘But it wasn’t just cleaning, was it? You asked for some repairs to the dress too.’
There’s a flicker across Kennedy’s face which she’s not quite quick enough to hide; this, at least, is news to her.
I open the cardboard file and take out a sheet of paper. It’s a scan of the dry cleaner’s order book.
‘Mend ripped neckline and replace sequins (bag of spares supplied by client).’
I close the file again and look up. ‘What happened, Professor Fisher? How did such an expensive evening dress get damaged at a sedate black-tie bash like that?’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘Or perhaps it wasn’t there that it happened? Perhaps it was after that, when you got home?’
She opens her mouth and closes it again.
‘I told you,’ she says eventually, ‘I don’t remember.’
VE: So she started to touch you. What happened next?
CM: I managed to pull away a bit and turned round to tip the champagne down the sink. I’d hardly had any of it.
VE: How much had she had?
CM: I think she was on her second glass by then.
VE: So then what?
CM: I was still at the sink, and felt her coming up behind me. She put her arms round me and started putting her hands down the front of my shorts. You know, inside, trying to grab my – you know – my penis.
> VE: What did you do?
CM: I turned round and pulled her hands away. I said I didn’t want to do this – that she didn’t want to do this. She said I was being ridiculous – we both wanted it. So I said what about Freya and she just laughed. Said something about why have prosecco when you can have the real thing. Then she reached up and pulled my face down – you know, trying to kiss me.
VE: And you tried to make her stop?
CM: [flushing]
I got hold of her wrist – tried to stop her, force her away. She still had the glass in her hand and some of it got spilt. I suppose you could say there was a bit of a tussle.
[pause]
That must have been when she scratched me – I didn’t realize at the time. I don’t think she meant to – she was still pulling at me and her fingers were in my hair and somehow it must have just happened.
[takes a deep breath]
Look, I’m not proud of this but I did end up pushing her away.
VE: How hard?
CM: [flustered]
Hard enough. I mean, not as hard as I could have, but I knew I had to be careful – she was drunk and I’m a lot stronger than she is. But I didn’t know what else to do – she just wasn’t taking no for an answer.
* * *
Adam Fawley
7 July 2018
19.53
‘You’re not prepared to answer any further questions, Professor Fisher?’
Kennedy raises an eyebrow. ‘My client’s position is very clear. These allegations are false, contrived and very possibly malicious. No such incident took place, which means, by definition, that you will find no evidence to substantiate it.’
‘How can your client be so sure, when she claims not to remember anything after the opening of the champagne?’
Fisher starts to answer but Kennedy forestalls her. ‘Because she is a professional. And because conduct of that kind would be entirely out of character, as I’m sure her colleagues will happily confirm. As I said, should you find any actual evidence that these events took place, by all means let us know. But take it from me, you won’t.’
‘What possible motive would Mr Morgan have to make a false accusation? He has everything to lose and nothing whatsoever to gain.’
The lawyer raises an eyebrow. ‘You’ll have to ask him that, Inspector.’