The Medium

by David Hatton

  ‘Suzanne and I…’ Robert paused. ‘We had an affair.’

  20.

  “The meme for blind faith secures its own perpetuation by the simple unconscious expedient of discouraging rational inquiry.”

  - Richard Dawkins (1989)

  A short break allowed the detectives to lubricate their dry throats. They collated the photographs of Suzanne Walker and analysed the woman within the snapshots whose reputation of the devoted wife and mother was fading away. On the walk to the cooler, Morgan glimpsed into the waiting room and saw Suzanne and Robert’s spouses, sitting blissfully ignorant to their loved ones’ treachery.

  They returned to the interview room where the other Walker waited, pacing up and down the five-metre length of the cramped space. To his right, his lawyer browsed through the details of Suzanne’s disappearance before urging his client to take a seat. Across the table, Detective Scott hit ‘resume’ on their recording device before recommencing their investigation.

  ‘So, let’s get this right. You claim that you and Suzanne were having an affair?’ Scott’s voice reeked of scepticism.

  ‘That’s correct. When I said she had those episodes, she was actually with me. We escaped the country several times to my villa in Portugal. I excused it as business travel, while she would simply disappear, not even leaving a note behind. Michael rarely noticed, he was off his face most of the time.’

  ‘Why are you only telling us this now?’ Morgan quizzed.

  ‘I was scared my marriage would fall apart, that my brother would despise me. This is why I tried to prevent Michael from bringing all this up again. I thought this would come out and ruin me. I couldn’t risk that.’

  ‘But apparently you can now?’

  ‘What other choice do I have? I’ve already lost those two whether I’m charged today or not. I’d rather not lose my freedom too.’

  ‘When did this affair begin?’ Scott asked.

  ‘It wasn’t long after Jason died. She came to the house in floods of tears. She wanted to see Elizabeth but she was out. I listened to her. Comforted her. I did everything Michael couldn’t handle. And then it happened… we kissed. Then one thing led to another. The next morning we both felt terrible and avoided each other for some time, which caught the attention of both Elizabeth and Michael. We knew we had to sort it out, so we met for a coffee to talk about it, but we couldn’t resist each other. We needed each other.’

  ‘How long did the relationship last?’

  ‘I broke up with her a few weeks before she disappeared. I told her I needed to work on my marriage and that she should do the same before we ended up hurting people. Elizabeth nearly caught us once. She found us having dinner at the Trafford Centre. We excused our meeting as a trip to buy her a birthday present. She bought it. I couldn’t face that again so I told Suzanne to back off.’

  ‘So if she was no longer with you when she had this particular episode as you put it, why weren’t you more concerned when she disappeared? Surely you’d have deeper interests in her welfare seeing you’d had a relationship with this woman.’

  ‘I assumed she’d upped and left once and for all. We all had. She hadn’t been happy with Michael for eighteen months. I guessed she’d met somebody else or escaped Manchester altogether.’

  ‘Without even letting her own parents know?’ Morgan quizzed.

  ‘She was irrational. I thought it was best she was left alone. I didn’t want her blurting out about our relationship and ruining what I had with my wife… and my brother.’

  ‘I bet it was pretty good having her out of the picture,’ said Scott with a sinister smile.

  ‘In a way it was. But in other ways it wasn’t. She left behind a lot of hurt and I wouldn’t have wished that on my worst enemy, never mind my own brother.’

  ‘You do realise this also puts you in the frame for her murder?’ Morgan said. She lifted out the photograph of Robert’s headshot captured on his arrival at the station, and tapped the image three times.

  ‘Why’s that the case? I had no motivation to kill her. As you said, I had a deeper interest in her welfare. I cared for her very much and would never want any harm to come her way.’

  ‘Well maybe you didn’t kill Jason Walker. Maybe you lived a normal life. Besides your sordid affair, you lived guilt-free. But then this very vulnerable, in your words irrational, woman becomes unhinged. She could expose your affair at any moment. You needed her out of your life once and for all. You had a lot to lose. I imagine a divorce could come at quite a cost on your salary. The publicity for your firm wouldn’t be great either, would it? Maybe a little knock to the head could solve your problems.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  Detective Morgan lifted out several sheets of paper. Handwritten scribbles dominated the white space. The header held the Greater Manchester Police logo. The footer held a familiar signature, which Robert knew all too well.

  ‘We visited your wife yesterday, Mr Walker. Her name appeared on a list of guests at Jackie Wallace’s show the night Suzanne went missing. She wasn’t very forthcoming when we quizzed her about Jason’s death or Suzanne’s disappearance. But she did tell us something very fascinating indeed about why she hadn’t told the police that she was the last person to see her alive.’

  ‘Oh and what was that?’ Robert sighed and peered over at his lawyer.

  ‘She said that you prevented her.’

  ‘She said that?’ Robert gasped.

  ‘She did indeed. What do you say to that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he gulped. ‘She’s lying.’

  ‘If that’s true she’s been lying to lots of people. It seems she told Jackie Wallace the same thing. She was a little more forthcoming with Jackie though. Told her everything about the car… and Jason. Elizabeth might not have told us, but Jackie did when she was in here for questioning yesterday. She confided in that supposed psychic and said that you were driving the vehicle that day.’

  ‘Of course the stupid psychic said that. She’s batting the attention away from herself. That’s not proof though, is it? My wife hasn’t said anything to you.’

  ‘Well apart from the fact that you prevented her from coming to the police regarding Suzanne’s last known whereabouts. So let’s concentrate on that for a moment. Mr Walker, I think you needed an alibi that night. I think you frightened your wife into thinking she would have been blamed for Suzanne’s disappearance.’

  ‘No, that’s not true.’

  ‘Then if you didn’t have anything to do with Suzanne’s death, why would you tell your wife to keep quiet about her evening out with the woman on the night she disappeared? I think you killed her.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘She could’ve had valuable information about that evening and could have led us to finding Suzanne. You told her to keep her head down, all the while you were saving your own neck.’

  ‘I wasn’t saving my own neck,’ Robert yelled. ‘I was saving hers!’

  The hustle and bustle of the station’s reception area had grown muffled as Michael Walker chewed over every detail from the previous eighteen months. To his right, Elizabeth stared at the white walls from her teary red eyes. Psoriasis ripped through her skin; stress bursting out of her cheeks.

  Fatigue consumed Michael. Between them they’d drunk enough caffeine to fill a Starbucks. Despite the stimulants, exhaustion continued to overwhelm the pair who patiently waited for the outcome of Robert’s interrogation.

  ‘They’ve been in there for a long time, haven’t they?’ Elizabeth said; her first words for over an hour.

  ‘They have.’

  ‘What do you think is happening in there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Michael.

  ‘What will I do without him? I can barely change a light-bulb.’

  ‘You’ll get there. It takes time but you’ll get there.’

  ‘I see.’ She lowered her head and cried.

  ‘Do you think he’s guilty?’

  ‘Of which crime?’
Elizabeth peered up; their situation was as complicated as a Rubik’s cube.

  ‘Either.’ Michael shrugged.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to say. This is all my fault.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘The police… they came to see me yesterday,’ she said with a jittery voice.

  ‘Why did they come to you?’

  ‘They wanted to know if I could add anything which could be useful in their investigation.’

  ‘And could you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She fell to silence.

  ‘It’s such a shame that you and Suzanne couldn’t see more of each other in her final months. She really missed you. You used to be such good friends.’

  ‘I know.’ The soles of her flip-flops vibrated against the floor tiles. The footwear would have suited a comfortable stroll along an Algarve beach but was not quite so convenient for the city cobbles.

  ‘She could’ve really done with you around. She was a mess. She needed her family, her friends. She needed you, Elizabeth.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ But her apology sounded less than sincere. She shook. Brown scalding water poured from her paper cup, splashing onto her skirt, burning her right leg. The scald did little to break her jittery trance.

  ‘Why couldn’t you have just visited her, given her a call? Just said hello for God’s sakes! She might have still been here had you bothered to pick up the phone and check in.’

  ‘It was an awful time. I’d just lost my nephew. I struggled to cope. I thought I’d say all the wrong things. Forgive me.’

  ‘Something just doesn’t add up. She tried to call you, plenty of times. Why did you ignore her?’

  ‘I don’t know I… I…’ But Elizabeth fell to silence.

  Before Michael could probe further, a shadow cast over them. Detectives Morgan and Scott approached the quivering in-laws who rose up to hear the update regarding their detained family member.

  ‘Elizabeth Walker. I’m arresting you on suspicion of dangerous driving, leading to the death of Jason Walker. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say will be taken down as evidence and could be used against you later in court. Do you understand?’

  The doomed suspect nodded her head and stepped forward. She placed her hands in front of her while the detectives cuffed her. They placed an arm around her and guided her towards the interview room. She took one last glimpse at freedom and the harrowing glares from the man she’d deceived.

  21.

  “Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.”

  - George Henry Lewis (Date Unknown)

  Morgan and Scott glimpsed through the spyhole. Elizabeth Walker laid her head on the table and wrapped her arms over her scalp.

  ‘Do you think she did it?’ Morgan asked.

  ‘Well she didn’t seem surprised when we arrested her and those tears scream guilt.’

  ‘What about Suzanne Walker?’

  ‘Murder would certainly shut up a grieving mother questioning who killed her son.’ Scott stroked his chin.

  ‘And stop her sleeping with her husband.’

  ‘She looks so kind and timid.’

  ‘I’ve seen all sorts in this game. People will do anything when they’re desperate. I’ve seen teenagers from good families kill their parents for insurance money and husbands murder their mistresses to cover up their affairs. It’s amazing what money and secrets will do to a person.’

  ‘I just don’t see it but I’ve been wrong before.’

  The door to their right opened and out stepped Robert Walker, who smiled as he left the corridors of custody. Shaking his lawyer’s hand, he thanked him and giggled as they approached the exit.

  ‘This isn’t over yet, Mr Walker. We will have more questions for you. Covering up your wife’s crimes will not serve you well so maybe don’t open the champagne too soon, will you?’

  ‘My client has been told he can go home. If you have more questions, he’ll be happy to answer them.’ Walker’s lawyer patted his client’s back and together they left the station.

  ‘So he’s not going to provide a lawyer for his wife?’ Scott snapped.

  ‘He’s just ratted her out. Do you really think he gives a shit about her?’

  ‘I suppose not. I feel almost sorry for her.’

  ‘Well don’t,’ Morgan said sharply. ‘We have to interview her, remember? Our job is to investigate.’

  They walked into the interrogation room and handed the suspect a cup of tea. Scott shot a small sympathetic smile towards Elizabeth, who took the tea and wiped her teary eyes. The detectives sat down and Morgan pressed the record button on the machine to her right. A red light illuminated the room, signalling that other officers outside of the interrogation room had tuned in to listen.

  ‘Elizabeth Walker, would you like to confirm where you were on the 29th June, 2009?’ Scott commenced the questioning.

  ‘I was driving home from a party in Leeds.’ She sniffled and sipped her drink.

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘About one pm.’

  ‘And what time did you arrive home?’

  ‘No later than three, three-thirty.’

  ‘Was it three, or three-thirty?’ Morgan asked.

  ‘Maybe quarter past.’

  ‘Was your husband with you?’

  ‘Yeah, he was in the passenger seat.’ She wiped a tear from her eye.

  ‘Why didn’t he drive?’ Scott enquired and Morgan gave him a sharp glare. He coughed, clearing his throat. ‘I mean, it was his car, wasn’t it?’

  ‘He was too hungover. We both were really, but I felt less rough than he did. We’d had too much to drink at the party the night before. Neither of us should have driven but we were desperate to get home and collapse into bed.’

  ‘Your husband informs us that the journey wasn’t so smooth.’

  ‘He came out of nowhere!’ Elizabeth broke down.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jason! His little red pushbike just didn’t stop! Before I knew it, I heard a crash and his body flew across the road.’

  ‘Are you saying that it was an accident, Mrs Walker?’

  ‘Of course it was, I’d never intentionally hurt a child.’

  ‘If that was the case, Elizabeth,’ Morgan took over, ‘Why didn’t you stop to see if he was OK?’

  ‘Robert told me to drive on. He was petrified of us being charged for drunk driving. We were both still steaming from the night before. There’s no way we would’ve passed a breathalyser. We were in no fit state to drive. I wanted to get out and see if he was OK but Robert yelled at me, telling me to drive off.’

  ‘But this was your nephew.’ Judgement rang through Morgan’s voice.

  ‘I didn’t know that at the time. We only found that out later when Michael called us that evening.’

  ‘How could you face your in-laws?’

  ‘I didn’t!’ Elizabeth explained. ‘I hid away and avoided them. Robert met them and made my excuses. He was always the showman; it’s part of the territory of his job. He knows how to hide the pressure, the lies and the shame.’

  ‘When did you last see Suzanne Walker?’ Scott asked.

  ‘It was the night she went missing. We were at Jackie Wallace’s show.’

  ‘Why did you agree to meet her that night?’

  ‘I couldn’t escape her. She turned up at my door, called my phone endlessly. My voicemail reached its limit. She turned up unannounced one day in floods of tears and told me she couldn’t cope. At this point, I’d seen Jackie Wallace several times, on stage and in person. I spoke to Jason. It made me feel better, I thought maybe it would help Suzanne.’

  ‘And allow you to stop feeling so guilty?’ Morgan’s eyebrow arched.

  ‘I guess so. I hadn’t thought of it that way before.’

  ‘Did Jackie have a message for Suzanne at the show that night?’

  ‘Yeah, she did. She said Jason was in a better place and that she should try and sort things out with M
ichael.’

  ‘Did Jackie give any hint to who killed Jason?’

  ‘Not to my recollection.’

  ‘Did Suzanne ever give you the hint that she knew about your involvement in Jason’s death?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I guess she could have known but she never said anything.’

  ‘Were you aware that Suzanne Walker was having an affair with your husband?’

  ‘Oh yeah, they weren’t very good at hiding it. I caught them having dinner together once. And when Suzanne disappeared for a week, Robert was conveniently away on business. He came home stinking of her perfume.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Morgan asked, biting the cap of her pen.

  ‘I don’t know. Guilt? I took her son away, why shouldn’t she take my husband?’

  ‘What about Robert?’

  ‘He’d done so much for me. He cleared up all my mess and represented me when I couldn’t bear to visit Suzanne and Michael. He kept me out of prison. I owed him so much. And I’d be useless without him. Where would I go? What would I do?’

  Elizabeth held her arms out and stretched. The sleeves of her black cardigan retracted, exposing scars on her wrists. The detectives spotted the wounds and made a note.

  ‘How was Suzanne’s mood on the night she disappeared?’

  ‘She was upset before the message from Jackie, but afterwards she had a new lease of life. She was happy and excited. She’d been in touch with her son and knew he was OK.’

  ‘Tell me about your last moments with Suzanne,’ said Scott.

  ‘She left in the intermission. She wanted to get home and see Michael. I offered her a lift but she refused. She wanted the walk. We said goodbye, hugged, said we’d meet again soon.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a little strange that after eighteen months of avoiding Suzanne, the first night you meet her, she’s murdered?’

  ‘It’s coincidental, that’s all.’

  Morgan leaned in.