The Whole Truth

by Hunter, Cara

  He hesitates, then nods. He’d dropped his gaze again and his face is flushed now. ‘I thought if I admitted it, you wouldn’t believe me about that night.’

  Somer nods slowly. How many women have thought the same thing, over the years? How many rape victims decided not to come forward for exactly the same reason?

  ‘Go on,’ says Asante.

  Morgan’s still not looking at them. ‘I told her it was over. That I was back with Freya, and her and me were finished. That we never even started.’

  ‘When did you tell her that?’

  He flickers a look at them. ‘That night. After the dinner. I just wanted to get it over with and get out of there – but like I told you before, she was buzzing. She said she wanted a drink and she wanted sex – you know, right there and then, on the bloody kitchen table.’

  Ev nods. ‘And what did you say to that?’

  ‘I said no – that I wished I hadn’t done it the first time and I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. But she refused to accept it.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  The flush deepens. ‘Like I said, she just wasn’t taking no for an answer.’ He stops, starts rubbing the back of his head. ‘So, well, you know –’

  ‘You had sex.’

  He nods. ‘I said, OK, for old times’ sake and all that. But just once. She seemed OK with it at the time.’

  ‘But afterwards, she changed her mind?’

  He glances up, looks away again. ‘Yeah. I said to her, after we’d – you know – done it, that it was over now. Really over. That was when she turned nasty.’

  GQ: You know what the school told us, don’t you, Professor Fisher?

  MF: [silence]

  VE: According to his teacher, Tobin’s been caught out lying several times in the last few months.

  MF: [silence]

  GQ: On one occasion he lied to get another child into trouble. A child he disliked.

  MF: He didn’t realize – it was just a silly mistake – he was confused –

  NK: Oh come on – you’re actually taking this playground stuff seriously?

  MF: It’s the other children – they make things up to make him look bad –

  NK: [quietly]

  I don’t think we need to discuss this any further, Marina.

  GQ: Was that why you kept telling us you couldn’t remember what happened to the dress? We never could figure that out. But it makes sense now. You were embarrassed to admit just how good a liar your eight-year-old son is.

  MF: [silence]

  GQ: Though, of course, some kids really do struggle telling lies – they find it hard to concoct stuff because their brains just aren’t wired that way.

  MF: [silence]

  GQ: Kids with autism, say, or Asperger’s. They have difficulty making things up, just as they have difficulty interacting with other people. If something like that applied to Tobin then, of course, it would be much easier to believe that all those incidents with the other kids really were just ‘misunderstandings’.

  MF: [silence]

  GQ: You thought that might be the explanation, didn’t you, back then? In fact, you went so far as to have him tested.

  * * *

  Morgan takes a deep breath. ‘She told me that if I wanted her help – if I wanted a decent reference – then I should do what she wanted. It was entirely up to me, but if I didn’t, well –’

  ‘What did you say to that?’

  He rubs his hand through his hair again. ‘I don’t know – I was all over the place – my career, my research – all that work – I just bottled it – said I’d think it over. I just wanted to buy myself some time.’

  ‘And after that you went home?’ says Asante.

  He nods. ‘Right. And I just sat there for a while, churning it all up. And eventually I went round to see Freya. I felt trapped – I didn’t know what the hell to do.’

  ‘She must have been angry,’ says Somer. ‘When you told her you’d slept with Fisher. Especially after you refusing to let her into the house. If you had, none of this would ever have happened.’

  He makes a face. ‘Don’t think that hasn’t occurred to me. And yeah, she was pretty pissed off with me. But she was absolutely fucking furious with Marina.’

  He sits back and looks at them, finally, square in the face. ‘The assault allegation – reporting it to college, to you. The whole thing. It was all Freya’s idea.’

  * * *

  GQ: According to the teacher, Tobin went through a full developmental assessment earlier this year, at your request.

  NK: [to her client]

  You never told me that.

  GQ: Only it didn’t come up with anything, did it, Professor Fisher? The child psychologist concluded that he does indeed have difficulties socializing with other kids, but it’s not because he has any sort of ‘developmental issue’. It’s far more likely to be a reflection of his home environment, and in particular, his relationship with you –

  MF: I absolutely do not accept that. I’m getting another opinion – I’m not about to take the word of some local authority second-rater –

  GQ: According to the professionals, Tobin is highly intelligent, but extremely anxious, especially when separated from you. He has problems interacting with strangers, and coping with negative emotions, even to the point of aggression.

  NK: I haven’t got a clue what you’re on about –

  GQ: Oh, I think you’ll find Professor Fisher does. She knows exactly what I’m talking about.

  * * *

  In the adjoining room, Gislingham is staring at the screen. ‘She was so bloody convincing,’ he says, half to himself. ‘I bought the whole thing.’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up too much,’ says Gow, making a note. ‘I’ve come across subjects like her before.’

  ‘No wonder the kid is so messed up,’ says the CPS lawyer darkly. ‘Poor little sod.’

  ‘’Fraid so,’ says Gow with a sigh. ‘Motherhood’s one thing even those machines of hers can’t fake.’

  * * *

  GQ: [picks up a sheet of paper]

  ‘Anxious attachment is usually the result of inconsistent, erratic or absent parenting. Such children become highly insecure and over-focused on the parent in question, which manifests itself in clinging and suspicious responses, and a willingness to do almost anything to please that parent and secure their attention.’

  ‘Almost anything’, Professor Fisher. Including, I suggest, a willingness to lie. If Mummy asked him to.

  MF: [angrily]

  Tobin was never diagnosed with that.

  GQ: No, he wasn’t. Not officially. But only because you withdrew him from the assessment before that could happen. But it would certainly tally with everything our team has seen of him over the last week or so. As well as everything we’ve learnt of his behaviour in the past. Because this has happened before, hasn’t it? He’s lied for you before.

  MF: What the hell are you talking about?

  VE: Does the name Sebastian Young ring any bells?

  * * *

  ‘I thought it was crazy – that we’d never pull it off – but Freya said we just had to be clever. She said Marina always assumed she was the smartest person in the room, but we could play her at her own game.’

  Asante and Somer exchange a glance.

  ‘So what did that involve, exactly?’

  ‘Freya said that even if we reported an assault straight away it would be hours before the police got to question Marina. That there was no way she wouldn’t have showered by then, and I’d used a condom anyway, so there’d be no proof we’d actually had sex.’

  ‘And Freya helped you?’ says Somer. ‘To fabricate the evidence – preserve DNA in the right places and get rid of the rest?’

  He nods. He looks uncomfortable.

  ‘It was a big risk, though, wasn’t it?’ says Asante. ‘How did you know Marina wouldn’t just tell us straight out that the two of you had been having an affair?’

 
But Somer’s shaking her head. ‘No. They knew what they were doing. They knew she’d never do that – she’d risk losing her job.’

  Morgan looks at her and then away. His cheeks are flushed.

  ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Caleb?’

  GQ: You know who we’re talking about, right? Sebastian Young? He’s the one who signed that fancy NDA Ms Kennedy here drew up for you. But just in case you need reminding –

  [pushes a photograph across the table and points at it]

  Keeping on top of your work, eh?

  NK: Oh, please –

  GQ: Marina Imogen Fisher, I am arresting you on suspicion of sexual assault against Sebastian James Young, on or about 20th November 2016. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.

  * * *

  ‘Look,’ says Morgan, ‘I’m sorry, OK? We shouldn’t have done it.’

  ‘No,’ says Somer heavily. ‘You absolutely shouldn’t have.’

  He slumps back in his chair, throws up his hands. ‘I just didn’t know what else to do. She was using me – abusing her position –’

  ‘That’s not the point. It’s perverting the course of justice.’

  ‘And now you’re telling me she’s done this before?’

  Somer sits forward. ‘You say she was abusing her power – why didn’t you just report her for that? Tell the college what was going on?’

  He makes a sardonic face. ‘And say what, precisely?’

  ‘That she was blackmailing you into having sex with her, for a start.’

  He scoffs. ‘Yeah, right. They were definitely going to believe that.’

  * * *

  MF: This is crazy – I didn’t assault Sebastian, any more than I assaulted Caleb. And you know I didn’t do that – you said yourselves –

  GQ: [points at the photograph]

  Perhaps. But we do ‘know’ you did this.

  MF: [takes a breath]

  Look – it was just that once and it was a huge mistake. It should never have happened.

  GQ: I think we can all agree on that.

  MF: You don’t understand. I was really struggling at the time. The relationship I was in had just broken up. I was lonely, vulnerable. And then there was the divorce, I’d just hit forty, it was all just – overwhelming. But I know that’s no excuse – I should never have let myself get drawn in.

  VE: You’re saying he seduced you?

  MF: [irritated]

  Yes, of course he seduced me. What sort of person do you think I am? And then that horrible girlfriend of his marches in and takes that wretched picture and it all turned into a complete bloody nightmare. That’s why I needed an NDA – that girl was blackmailing me – threatening to release the picture to the department, the University –

  GQ: So you gave her a dose of her own medicine? Said you’d go to the police and tell them some cock-and-bull story about Zoe grooming Tobin?

  MF: [flushes]

  It wasn’t like that.

  [looking from one officer to the other]

  Don’t look at me like that – I’m telling the truth –

  GQ: But you got Tobin to lie, didn’t you? That story he told Sebastian Young about being groomed – none of that was true.

  MF: But –

  GQ: You coached him.

  MF: Yes, I suppose, if you put it like that. But just to get them to back off. I’d never have taken it any further. Look, can’t you understand? I didn’t have any choice – I was going to lose my job – my position – everything I’d worked for –

  NK: And might I remind you that whatever might have happened then, it doesn’t mean Tobin isn’t telling the truth now.

  VE: [silence]

  Shall I tell you what I think is the truth?

  MF: [looks away]

  VE: I think you and Caleb Morgan had sex that night. Straightforward, consensual sex. And it wasn’t the first time, either. So when Morgan came forward and accused you of assault, you were completely thrown – what on earth was he playing at? You couldn’t tell us what really happened because you couldn’t admit you were sleeping with a student, so the only option was to hope it would all just go away. And you’re clever, you worked out pretty quickly that it would only ever be he said/she said. All you had to do was tough it out. Tell us you couldn’t remember. Because there’s no way we could prove it one way or the other, right?

  MF: No – that’s not what happened. I never slept with him, never –

  VE: But then you were outed on Twitter and everything changed. Your career was on the line now. It wasn’t just the Morgan relationship, either – it could all come out about Sebastian Young as well. You had to do something. So you did exactly what you did the first time round, with Sebastian. You turned the tables. Played Caleb Morgan at his own game.

  MF: No – I didn’t –

  VE: You made yourself into the victim. But you had to be clever about how you did it. You couldn’t just turn round and start making accusations against Morgan – it had to be a lot subtler than that. You needed us to think we’d worked it out – that us ‘second-rate’ minds had actually managed to crack the case.

  MF: [shaking her head]

  This is madness.

  VE: All that time you’d been claiming you couldn’t remember, hoping it would all go away – it’s only now you realized what a fabulous get-out-of-jail card that could be.

  MF: It’s not a claim – it’s the truth.

  VE: A date-rape drug. What could be simpler?

  MF: No – no –

  VE: You’re a scientist – you knew how quickly those things metabolize, so forensics wouldn’t be a problem. But you couldn’t plant the idea yourself. To be really credible, it had to come from somewhere else. And who better than an innocent eight-year-old boy? You used your own son. After all, you knew he’d be convincing. He’d lied for you before.

  MF: [becoming distressed]

  VE: You told him what to say – what story to tell. You told him about the red dragon –

  MF: [looking from one officer to the other]

  Dragon? What dragon?

  VE: You told him to say Morgan was ‘hurting’ you – that your dress was up over your waist, that you were all ‘floppy’ and ‘sleepy’. You planted those ideas in your son’s mind, you made him see those pictures in his head –

  MF: [extremely distressed now]

  No – I never said anything about any of that – I was raped – he raped me –

  NK: That’s enough, Constable.

  * * *

  Morgan’s lawyers are on their feet now, collecting papers, surreptitiously checking their phones.

  ‘So you understand, Mr Morgan?’ says Somer, forcing his attention. ‘We’ll need to talk to the CPS, but I doubt they’ll decide to take any further action against you. If so, you’ll be issued with a formal caution.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Caleb,’ says Melia. ‘We’ll talk you through all that.’

  ‘It’s not a get-out-of-jail card,’ continues Somer, making him look at her. ‘It’s serious. And it has consequences – you do understand that?’

  Morgan hesitates a moment then nods. ‘Yeah, I understand.’

  * * *

  In the adjoining room, Gislingham turns to the CPS prosecutor. ‘What do you think – should we interview Tobin again – see if we can get him to admit that his mother told him what to say?’

  The lawyer sighs. ‘I doubt it’s worth the effort – no jury is going to believe that child now.’

  She starts to pack her notebooks into her bag. ‘And the physical evidence is all over the place – the whole case is a complete morass.’

  Gow glances up, raises his eyebrows. Evidently he agrees.

  ‘Let her sweat a bit,’ says the lawyer, ‘then let her go.’

  Gis frowns. ‘He gets a caution and a criminal record, but she goes scot-free?’

  ‘He a
dmitted what he did. She’s denying it, and we can’t prove it. It’s all circumstantial.’

  ‘We could contact her other students – say we’re investigating sexual assault allegations and ask anyone with information to contact us?’

  The lawyer nods. ‘I don’t have any problem with you doing that. It may help keep the press off your backs, if nothing else. But unless someone else comes forward with a case that will actually stand up in court, I’m afraid this is a non-starter.’

  ‘So she just gets away with it.’

  The prosecutor gives him a heavy look. ‘You think having her name dragged through the dirt and wrecking her career is “getting away with it”?’

  Gis considers. ‘Well, I guess if you put it that way …’

  * * *

  Dave King presses pause on his tablet screen and turns to Ruth Gallagher.

  ‘It’s enough, right?’ he says. ‘Enough to nail him?’

  She frowns. ‘Play it again.’

  She’s already seen the CCTV footage three times, and she’s rarely seen evidence so incontrovertible. That’s not what’s holding her back. It’s the look on the face of the man who’s showing it to her. There’s been a zeal, almost a fanaticism, about King these last few days that’s made her increasingly uneasy. No police officer should be that elated about bringing down one of their own – whatever he’s supposed to have done.

  King starts the footage again. She can see how hard he’s working not to betray his impatience. There’s a little vein pulsing in the side of his neck.

  The camera is from one of the flats on the corner of William Lucy Way, looking straight at Walton Well Road. The bridge is out of range to the left, but you can see anything – and anyone – heading towards it. Including the car that passes at speed at 01.09 on Tuesday 10 July, fifteen minutes before a team of Network Rail engineers will spot a body falling on to the northbound line.

  ‘That stretch of road is a dead end,’ says King, as if Gallagher didn’t already know. ‘And with all the parked cars it’s too narrow for a three-point. He had to go down to the car park by Port Meadow to turn round.’ His eyes narrow. ‘Just a pity the tosser who put up the camera didn’t stick it somewhere where we could see the sodding reg number.’