by A K Shattock
Tobias assessed her. It appeared she was telling the truth. But he knew better than to trust suspects straight away.
“And were you aware that this business was just over one million pounds in debt? That your husband’s life insurance for this business is worth 1.5 million? Bit of a coincidence don’t you think?”
Mrs Fielding stared at him, bewildered. “No, I was not aware. Well, I knew something was wrong. I knew the gallery was in trouble. But his life insurance… I had no idea…?”
“Even though you signed these?” Tobias splayed out all the documents Natalie had found.
Mrs Fielding gawked at them, her mouth hanging open. “I did not sign any of them! I didn't know!” Before Tobias could stop her, she grabbed the back of one of the papers, snatched one of Tobias’s pens and signed her name. “See!” she said triumphantly. Her signature was completely dissimilar to the one on the documents. Tobias sighed.
“For the benefit of the tape, Mrs Fielding has signed her name to make a point that her signature is different. Of course, we have to bear in mind that a spontaneous signature is hardly concrete evidence.” Mrs Fielding’s face fell. “Well, check my house! My signature should be in there somewhere. I can assure you. I did not sign these documents. There was only one that I signed, but I was coerced into doing it. And it was not any of these. I did not know anything about this.” She sat back folding her arms, visibly upset. “Alright, you have made your point very clear,” Tobias continued. “Now, do you have any idea where Stanley Hudson may be? We have tried to track him down for questioning with no avail.”
Mrs Fielding shook her head. “The last I heard, he was staying with his mother. And that was about a year ago. I haven’t seen him for two years since he made me sign that document.”
“Is there any possibility that he may still be living in the United Arab Emirates?”
“No, he certainly isn’t there,” Mrs Fielding said confidently. “He fled the UAE two years ago. He ran up major debts there. He would’ve been imprisoned if he went back. He is definitely in this country. There have been men snooping around our house, looking for him. I’m pretty sure he must owe a lot of money here in the UK as well.”
Tobias nodded. This was beginning to make much more sense. There was a lot of backstory to this murder - they had to find Hudson. “And you have not been in contact with Mr Hudson at all?”
“Absolutely not. You could check the landline and Greg’s computer? I’m sure they kept in contact before he…” she tailed off, looking down into her lap. Tobias waited a moment. He didn’t tell her that they’d already tried all of that. All contact details for Hudson either did not exist, were well-hidden or had been removed. This chap had been very careful. He definitely didn’t want to be found.
“We will look into it,” he lied. “We have also spoken to your sister. Were you aware at all of… her relations with… your husband?”
Mrs Fielding glanced up at Tobias in surprise. “She told you?”
“Yes,” he said uncomfortably. “Please answer the question. Were you aware of their relationship before the murder?”
“Yes,” she replied in a strangled voice. “I was aware.”
“For how long?”
“A year.”
“A...a year?”
“I didn’t tell them I knew,” she sighed. “I wanted to protect my sister. From Greg. I knew what he was like. I knew he wasn’t a good person. I mean, look at all these forged documents. And he’s done much worse than that. I couldn’t let them be together. We had to stay married.”
“What do you mean by that? That he’s done much worse?” prompted Tobias.
“I don’t… I can’t talk about it,” Mrs Fielding muttered.
“Mrs Fielding…”
“I know what you’re going to say!” she burst out. “You need to know what he did. But I’m not ready to talk about it. Please, let me have more time.”
Tobias paused. This stalling was certainly odd. Was she keeping him on his toes on purpose? Perhaps Diane would be more successful with getting the truth out of her.
“Just one last question. Do you remember anything more about the night of Gregory Fielding’s murder. Previously, you confessed. But you could not describe what happened. Is there anything else that has come back to you?”
“No. I don’t remember anything else.”
“Do you still stand by your confession?”
Mary Fielding hesitated. “I don’t know,” her grey eyes bored sadly into his. “I honestly don’t know.” Tobias had to cut short the interview there. He knew he would get into trouble if he took any extra time. Regretfully, he thought of the huge pile of unsolved cases on his desk that he had barely touched and Fowler’s unruly temper. It was time to get started. He left Mrs Fielding in the interview room once a police officer had come to collect her and made his way to the offices upstairs. He popped by Natalie’s desk on the way and gave her the recording to file into the notes. She thanked him with her pretty smile. He quickly summarised what was said. “It’s really interesting,” Tobias said. “I’m finding it harder to figure her out. She confesses to killing him straight off. And now we have built up on her motives; she now seems more reluctant to admit to any of it. It’s all very strange. And we need to find this Hudson character as soon as possible. I feel like he’s a huge part of this somehow.”
Natalie nodded. “I’ll try and get the Cyberteam onto it. Try and get a mobile number, and therefore a location.”
“Amazing! And be careful, try to keep it on the lowdown,” he winked at her. Then he wanted to slap himself. Why was he so awkward? Luckily, she just laughed warmly in return.
Tobias went back to his desk and flicked through the pile of files. What took priority? A mugging? A stabbing in a nightclub? Yet another drug dealing incident? As he flipped through, he came across the file for the unsolved murder of the elderly man with postmortem disfigurement. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about this case. Wasn’t the whole point of them summoning Natalie to help them, was because they thought there was a potential serial killer lurking about? Could it be a coincidence there were two murders that had happened within the space of two weeks with similar scenarios? Lack of witnesses, in the home, knife as the weapon and of course the cherry on the top of the cake; the added cuts to the body after death. Could it be that simple, that a potential link between the two murders could determine who was to blame?
Perhaps Tobias was too quick to believe that the two cases could be related, but it was worth a look. Besides, Fowler would be absolutely delighted if he could solve two cases in one. It was way more economical.
He hastily made his way back to Natalie’s side. “I know, I’m being really annoying and distracting, but you really need to look at this!” He didn’t wait for Natalie to reply as he helped himself to the empty chair by her desk. “We have the file here of the murder of seventy-five year old Jacob Huntley. He was stabbed to death in his home. He too, was found slumped in an armchair. The body had not been moved after death. Additionally, postmortem cuts were found on the body.” Tobias raised his eyes, and revealed the accompanying photographs; the victim’s mouth had two extended cuts on the corners. Not unlike the body of Mr Fielding. “Because of the similarities of the circumstances of these deaths, would you think it would be fair to assume they were murdered by the same person?”
Natalie mused as she flicked through the photographs, appearing not to be irritated by the interruption or revolted by the disturbing images. “It’s definitely possible. Were there any witnesses? Any evidence found?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Tobias sighed. “Whoever killed him was extremely careful. Not a hair or fragment of clothing. The body was also quite decomposed by the time it was found. The elderly chap must’ve been very lonely - his body was discovered by a neighbour upon investigating the smell.”
“So that would’ve given the murderer ample opportunity to clean up,” Natalie continued. “And nothing was heard at the time o
f the murder?” “Nothing,” said Tobias. “Which could point to one thing. The killer knew the man personally. Why else would he have let them in? Why else would he have been able to be murdered in his own chair? He trusted them.”
“But wasn’t this ruled as a robbery? This sort of information would surely go against that.”
“His pockets and wallets were emptied. There was evidence of a thorough search of the house. No break in to the property, though. The robber could have been invited in under false pretenses. But it doesn’t make sense to kill somebody for a petty theft. Unless whatever had been taken was particularly valuable?” “Or the killer had tried to make it appear like a robbery. Perhaps the murder was personal. The postmortem disfigurement certainly suggests that.” Tobias considered. “At the moment, we have Mrs Fielding as a suspect for Gregory Fielding's murder. However, we are still unsure that she is guilty, and we are also going to investigate Stanley Hudson. If we find that either of these two have some sort of connection to Mr Huntley, then that confirms it.” Natalie nodded. “Good thinking. Though, would it be right to completely assume it is the same killer? The cause of death is different; this man was stabbed. Mr Fielding’s death appears to be done by someone who is more ruthless, confident. Throat slashing is way messier; with the added risk of his wife coming home and interrupting. We have to bear in mind that this could be a copy-cat killing? That whoever murdered Mr Fielding, wanted to try and avoid suspicion by replicating the events of a previous murder?” Tobias couldn’t help but admire how intelligent and thoughtful Natalie was at that moment. “You’re right. We definitely need to keep that in mind. Let’s hope for our sake that they are connected in some way. Let’s see where we get to! Thanks for all your help!” Natalie smiled her dazzling smile. It was almost as if she wanted to intentionally kick his heart to a start. “No problem,” she said simply.
DIANE
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Diane made her way into the police station nervously, carefully checking her surroundings. She was desperate not to run into Toby. Or his new girlfriend. She would have no idea what to say to him. But partly, she couldn’t trust herself not to slap him. She had laid awake in bed for hours the previous night. She was so angry with Toby. And so angry with herself. She was furious at him for calling her, for making her hopeful, making her believe that he had been thinking about her. That he wanted to see her again.
But of course, this was all about his work. How foolish was she? He had never cared about anything else. And she had known that. That’s why she had ended it with him. She was stupid to think that he would change, that he would realise that he needed her. She was living in some romantic dreamland. No, she had to accept it. She had to feel happy for him. It had been six months. Six long months. He hadn’t gone after her then and he won’t go after her now. It was time to move on.
Diane quickly made her way to the same room she had seen her patient in, last time. Mrs Fielding was to be transferred to a more secure prison in the coming few days. She wondered if she would be able to counter that and get her into a psychiatric hospital. But that would depend on what she would find.
Diane had never in her years of practice came across a patient with Dissociative Identity Disorder. She’d even had to do research at home on it! This woman was the perfect case. However, it couldn’t escape Diane’s mind that perhaps this was too textbook. That her patient knew that and was trying to feign an illness, to get a lower sentence. It was up to Diane now to determine whether she was telling the truth or not.
“Mrs Fielding! How are you feeling today?” she greeted her patient warmly as she was led into the room. The police officer who was escorting her; shackled her cuffs to a table leg.
“I’m fine,” she said feebly as she flopped into the hard, metallic chair opposite her.
“So I’ve been doing a bit of research,” Diane cut straight to the chase. She didn’t usually get very long sessions with prisoners, which annoyed her very much. “And I think the best way to help you now, would be to gain access to your other personality or identity. The recorder is on so you can listen to it afterwards, get some clarity. What do you think about that?”
“Oh… I… I didn’t know you could do that,” replied Mrs Fielding anxiously.
Diane nodded. “It’s very possible. I have a theory of how we might be able to do it. You mentioned before that your blackouts are triggered by anger and fear. How about we try that first of all?”
“You mean… I need to get angry?”
“Precisely. Now I want you to close your eyes. Take a deep breath, in and out. In… and out. Now I want you to picture your husband’s face. I want you to remember how it felt when you found his… body. And then to hold that feeling.” Diane spoke slowly and calmly. Mrs Fielding appeared to be following her instructions. Her brows had become furrowed and her face was flushed as she concentrated. Her breathing became fast and shallow, as if she was hyper-ventilating.
“Now, Mrs Fielding. I want you to let yourself go. We want to speak to your other personality. We need to find out the truth.” Diane now directed her voice to the other identity. “We need to speak to you. I would like to meet you.”
A few minutes passed. Mrs Fielding’s breathing was still quick and shallow. Then suddenly it slowed. She opened her eyes. They were filled with tears.
“She’s not coming,” she whispered. She sounded more relieved than disappointed. Diane was definitely discouraged. It looked like she needed to do more research. It wasn’t like she had ever summoned an alternative personality from a person before. There must be something that they were missing.
“Try not to worry, Mrs Fielding. We can try again in our next session. Perhaps, you could think more about other potential triggers?”
Mrs Fielding nodded sadly. “I just wanted to find out the truth.”
Diane paused. “Yes… don’t we all. But we have to do it in a way that is best for you.”
Deflated, Diane ended the session not long after. She hurried back to her clinic, almost in a daze. She felt stupid. She actually believed that she would be able to bring out another identity, another alter, from one of her patients. Usually, this was the type of thing that only an experienced hypnotist could achieve. Why did she think she was more capable?
Something in Diane told her not to give up. It was the first time, after all. Albeit, she had upset her patient and she may be reluctant to try again. But there was still a chance. If she failed tomorrow, then she would consider getting in contact with a hypnotist. Come to think of it, did she know any hypnotists? Diane didn’t believe that she did. This could make things difficult. She tried to think about the last time she saw a Yellow Pages, as she came out of the lift and almost collided into one of her colleagues. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry-,”
“Deep in thought there, Diane?” Simon grinned at her, his whitened, veneered teeth gleaming. “Let me guess… it’s about a patient?”
Diane laughed. “How did you know? Actually… you may be able to help me. You don’t happen to know any hypnotists, do you?”
“A what? A hypnotist? I don’t come from a circus Diane, as much as that might be difficult to believe.” “Well, you could have fooled me,” Diane smiled. Simon was a new psychiatrist at the practice. He was rich, he was good looking and full of banter. The word around, according to Cath, her receptionist, was that he was single and ready to mingle; somebody that Diane should’ve clocked onto straight away, but somehow hadn’t. It wasn’t like he’d even give her a second glance anyway. They were too different. He had so many private patients that you could argue that his Hippocratic oath should surely be void by now. But then again… he could be a distraction. A bit of fun. If Toby could move on, so could she. What did she have to lose?
“Simon…” Diane couldn’t back out now. “Are you free later? Do you fancy going out for a drink?” Breezy. An innocent beverage with a fellow colleague. What could go wrong?
“Sure. See you at the front desk at five?” He flashed
another smile, and Diane realised she might have to invest in some decent sunglasses.
“Perfect,” enthused Diane. In what sort of sane world does a doctor actually leave when they’re supposed to finish? Perhaps for him, he did. It wouldn’t hurt him to wait an extra couple of minutes anyway.
She saw the remaining three patients that she had and strangely enough it all went rather smoothly. Much to her amazement, she did actually end up clocking out at five. Was the world also in her favour to attempt this potentially disastrous, not-really-adate, date?
She went out to the reception area and was surprised to find that Simon was already waiting for her, settled down with a book.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” he said dramatically. “Did Diane actually finish her work... on time?”
She laughed. “Why did you ask me to meet you at five if you didn’t believe I would be done?”
“Well, I thought you would hurry up a bit, and it worked! Can’t be waiting until the pubs close, can we?”
They made their way out onto the streets and took the tube closer to Central London.
“I know a great cocktail bar,” Simon said. “They’ve got a live band and dancers most nights. Sometimes you can see a few celebs. It’s a great atmosphere.”
“Sounds great!” Diane lied. It actually sounded like a place that she would actually hate. Too noisy. Too crammed. No chance of having a civilised conversation.
When they got there, Diane was surprised to find there was actually a queue, bouncers and all. It was only early evening.
“Maybe we could go somewhere else,” Diane said lightheartedly. “Look at that place over there, you don’t need to queue.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Diane,” Simon guffawed. “You think we have to queue?” He said the word as if it was beneath him. Before Diane could even reply, Simon marched straight up to the bouncer at the door. “Dave, my man. How are you? How’s Christina?” Before she knew it, they had been whisked in and Simon was at the bar ordering the drinks. Diane had never experienced anything like this before in her life.