He paused for a moment.
‘Miss Kidd.’
‘Inspector?’
‘As you know, we have been conducting a search of your house and your motorboat. I have to tell you that, apart from discovering a second copy of your manuscript at Cathedral Crag, we have found nothing of any significance. Our apparent recovery of evidence on the boat yesterday and your subsequent detention was a grave error, and I wish to wholeheartedly apologise for it.’
Meriel smiled. That’s why they were recording this. They’d clearly had second thoughts about the legality of using such obvious scare tactics on her. Probus had them on the run. Now they wanted to demonstrate they’d apologised and backed off at the earliest opportunity. It might limit any subsequent award against them for damages.
‘Thank you, Mr Thompson. I note your apology. I assume I am now free to leave?’
Probus coughed. ‘Dear lady . . .’
She turned to him. ‘Mr Probus?’
Her lawyer inclined his head to the detective. ‘There is a little more, I am afraid.’
Meriel faced the DI. ‘Please come to the point, Inspector. I want to go home.’
Thompson turned to his junior.
‘DC Watkins? If you please.’
The younger man snapped open the clasps of his briefcase and took out a small, opaque plastic evidence bag. He handed it to his DI, who folded it into his palm.
‘Miss Kidd.’ Thompson fixed Meriel with a calm, steady gaze. ‘You have stated to both the coroner and myself, and to my witness, that on the day your husband drowned you placed his wristwatch in your handbag and brought it home with you. And that, subsequently, you mislaid it.’
Meriel’s eyes slowly widened and she swallowed twice before replying. Her voice, when it came, was much quieter than before.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
The DI deftly unsealed the evidence bag and shook its contents onto the cheap Formica table.
Cameron Bruton’s gold Rolex skidded across the surface.
‘Do you recognise this watch?’
Meriel stared at it. The second hand was still ticking, still moving, wagging at her like an admonishing finger.
She nodded, almost imperceptibly.
‘Note for the record that Miss Kidd is nodding her head in the affirmative. Please speak your response aloud, Miss Kidd. Do you recognise this watch?’
‘Yes.’
‘Whose is it?’
Meriel’s entire body seemed to be shrinking in on itself. She had wrapped her arms around her sides and her head and neck were beginning to settle into her shoulders.
‘Whose is it, Meriel?’
It was the first time he had called her by her Christian name, and it was a psychologically calculated move.
‘Cameron’s,’ she whispered at last.
‘Cameron Bruton, your late husband.’
‘Yes.’
‘Meriel, can you explain to me why my officers were able to recover this watch from the bottom of Ullswater less than two hours ago, beneath the exact spot where your husband drowned?’
‘No, I can’t.’
‘Speak up, please, Meriel. I can’t hear you.’
‘NO. I can’t explain. I thought I’d taken it home with me.’
‘But you didn’t, did you, Meriel? You can’t have done. Because it’s been lying at the bottom of the lake all this time.’
‘If you say so.’
DI Thompson almost felt sorry for the woman who was now hunched in the chair opposite. But not that sorry. He moved in for the kill.
‘The thing is, you’ve been lying to everyone, haven’t you, Meriel? You lied to the coroner. You lied to your boyfriend. You lied to me, yesterday. Always the same lie. That you’d put this watch into your handbag and taken it home. You never once displayed the slightest doubt about the matter; not once. You never said you thought you’d put it in your handbag, or that maybe you’d done something else with it. Yesterday, here at the station, you even told me how grateful you would be if my officers found it during their search of your home. It’s all been one great big lie, hasn’t it, Meriel?’
She said nothing.
Mark Thompson was an experienced interrogator and he knew the value of suddenly changing tone and body language. He did so now, pushing his chair back with both legs and putting his hands behind his head. He contrived almost to look bored.
‘Come on, Meriel. You’re in a right mess here, aren’t you? We can all see that, even Mr Probus there. Just look at his face. Your solicitor doesn’t appreciate being lied to, either.
‘So I suggest you start straightening things out by telling the truth for once. I’ve got all day. In fact, I’ve got all week, if needed. Why don’t you begin by telling me what really happened on the boat that afternoon?’
Meriel shook her head. ‘I have done,’ she said huskily. ‘I have told you the truth about it.’
The DI laughed quietly. ‘Meriel, you’ve been caught out telling whoppers. Surely you understand how that changes everything; puts all the other things you’ve told us in a deeply questionable light? You’re going to have to do a lot better than this, I’m afraid.’
He paused. ‘All right. Let’s try an easy one. We all know now that your last sighting of this watch was NOT as you dropped it inside your handbag. Because that never happened. So when did you last see it? And how did it get into the water?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know . . . I don’t remember.’
‘Oh, I think you do. And your unwillingness to tell me about it speaks volumes. Can you imagine how this is going to come across to a jury, Meriel? All of it? Hmm?’
He let the question hang in the air, before continuing: ‘Well . . . perhaps I can help you to focus on your predicament a little more clearly. Let me summarise what a future jury would have to consider.’
The DI began to tick off points one by one on his fingers.
‘One. Far from having the perfect marriage, as you boasted to all and sundry, you had a lousy one.
‘Two. You hated your husband so much that you wrote gruesome fantasies about killing him in the most foul ways imaginable. I’m an experienced police officer, Meriel, and I can tell you they certainly took my breath away. I think it’s possible that one or two of the jurors might faint when these chapters are read out in court. That one about pouring battery acid into Cameron’s eyes is triple-X.
‘Three. You embarked on an affair with a much younger man than your husband.
‘Four. On the very afternoon your husband drowned – indeed, only minutes before his death – you told him you were leaving him. Then—’
Probus interrupted. ‘That is an allegation made by someone who wasn’t even there, Inspector, and which my client vigorously denies. She—’
The DI walked through the lawyer’s words.
‘Come off it, Mr Probus, my witness is of excellent character and has no reason to lie. It’s your client who is the liar, as our discovery of the watch this morning proves beyond doubt. Who do you think a jury will be more likely to believe?’
Probus was silent.
Mark turned back to Meriel.
‘Five. After telling your husband you intended to leave him that evening, the two of you had a fierce argument. You volunteered this fact to your lover afterwards, on a number of occasions.
‘Six. Your husband discovered your secret, sordid diary. We know this because he made copies and hid them, to guard against you destroying the original when he told you what he’d done. I believe the threats he made against you were specifically about the diary. I believe he warned you that if you left him, he’d make you pay. He’d reveal its existence to the world. Your reputation and career would be destroyed. People would be revolted when they learned what you’d written.’
Meriel had not taken her eyes from the floor. The DI could see her left hand was shaking, and her right was balled into a tight fist.
Probus, who had gone very pale, leaned forward.
&nbs
p; ‘Inspector, my client is clearly distressed. I would like to request that we take a break at this juncture for her to recover her composure.’
And I would like you to stuff that request right up your arse, pal, Mark thought. But all he said was: ‘Request denied, Mr Probus. We’ll take a break when I decide, not you.’
The detective got up from the chair and cocked one thigh on the table, a move which brought him several feet closer to Meriel.
‘And d’you know what, Meriel? We haven’t even got to point seven yet.’
Probus, still smarting from the put-down, unwisely asked: ‘Well then, why don’t you tell us what it is?’
DI Thompson glared at him.
‘Be quiet, Mr Probus. Keep your interventions relevant. And your irritation to yourself.’
Probus went from pale to puce in a moment, but managed to swallow back a reply.
‘Point seven,’ the detective resumed, ‘is the part about the watch. You see, not only have you consistently and provably lied through your teeth about that, Meriel, but then there’s this curious business of you “forgetting” to mention that your husband asked you the time, just before he died. It’s nowhere in your original statement.’
Mark slowly and deliberately rapped the table three times with his knuckles.
‘I’d like you to look at me now, please, Meriel. This part’s important.’
She slowly lifted her gaze from the floor and stared at her accuser. Her expression was blank, unreadable.
‘Thank you. You see, Meriel, from the first moment I was assigned this case, I realised you were hiding something. Something very, very important. Your lies about your husband’s watch, and your failure to mention him asking you the time . . . they’re inextricably connected, aren’t they? Last night I read the transcript of your evidence at the inquest and it was absolutely clear to me that you were obfuscating on both points. And that was before we found the watch.’
The DI now held his silence, and Meriel’s gaze. It was almost half a minute before he spoke again.
‘I think it’s clear what happened. Your husband left his watch on deck when he went for his swim, as was his custom. I accept that part of your evidence at least, Meriel. Because if he’d been wearing it, it would have still been on his wrist when his body was recovered from the lake.
‘When he called out to you from the water, you were seething over the threats he’d just made. You were very worried about them too, and you couldn’t think what to do. But suddenly, you saw your opportunity. In fact, I believe that if Cameron Bruton hadn’t asked you the time that afternoon, he would be alive today.
‘You picked up the watch and you threw it at him. You knew it would sink at once and you knew all about the inherent dangers of the icy water that were just beneath your husband. You hoped he’d go after it – it was a Rolex, after all – and he did. And when he hit the freezing layer, he began drowning, like so many others this summer.
‘And then I think you just watched him drown, Meriel. I don’t think you lifted a finger to help him. Not until it was too late.’
He leaned in towards her, until their faces were only inches apart.
‘Tell me that I’m wrong, Meriel Kidd. Look me in the eyes, and tell me I’m wrong.’
After a long, exhausted silence, DI Thompson slowly rose from the table and looked dispassionately at the lawyer.
‘I’ll offer her manslaughter. But I want a full confession and I want it by close of play. If it’s not forthcoming then your client will be charged with murder and we’ll let the jury decide.’
He glanced back at Meriel as he scooped the glittering Rolex back up from the table.
‘You should consider yourself lucky we don’t hang killers any more in this country, Meriel.’
He moved towards the door.
‘Not much more than ten years ago, you might have swung for this.’
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
A few minutes after DI Thompson had left the accused and her lawyer in the interview room, a grey-haired middle-aged constable returned with a tray of tea and biscuits.
‘The inspector suggests you could do with this while you come to your decision,’ he told them, not unkindly. ‘I’m to tell you that he would appreciate knowing what that decision is by nine p.m. at the latest.’ He quietly withdrew.
Probus had spent the last ten minutes trying to persuade Meriel to talk to him, without success. She sat hugging her knees and staring into space.
Now he poured her some tea. ‘Do you take milk, my dear? Or sugar?’
She shook her head. That’s better, thought Probus, at least a reaction of sorts. He pushed the steaming black cup over to her.
‘Do take care, my dear. It is very hot.’
Meriel nodded, and sipped a little of the tea.
‘Thank you, Mr Probus.’
At last. She speaks once more.
The solicitor placed his hands deliberately on both pudgy pinstriped knees, spreading his fingers.
‘Miss Kidd . . . Meriel . . . you must not be in the least concerned or embarrassed that you have been untruthful with me about certain matters. I assure you it is the commonest thing in the world for clients to be . . . economical with the vérité, shall we say. I am quite accustomed to it and I assure you I have never taken it personally, and certainly do not do so now.’
He paused. ‘And I can quite understand why you chose not to mention the matter of the watch. By the way, I assume the inspector’s theory concerning that is well founded?’
Meriel spoke for a second time.
‘To all intents and purposes, yes, it is.’
‘Ah.’ Probus sat thinking for a while. Meriel slowly sipped more of her tea.
‘Well, that being the case,’ he eventually continued, ‘I can think of one or more strategems and defences that may be helpful to us. Firstly—’
‘No.’ Meriel’s voice was recovering some of its strength.
‘But I assure you—’
‘I said no, Mr Probus. I am not going to wriggle like the worm on the proverbial hook. I want this whole business over with as quickly and simply as possible. I’ve had more than enough of it. I intend to plead guilty to manslaughter.’
Her lawyer hesitated.
‘But Miss Kidd, although I can offer no guarantees on the outcome of a criminal trial before jury, I am of the opinion, given the circumstantial nature of the evidence, that a good Queen’s Counsel for the defence may well be able to—’
‘Mr Probus, with respect, you were of the opinion that you would have me out of this police station by lunchtime today.’
If the solicitor was offended he gave no sign of it and his tone remained polite, even understanding.
‘Yes, but also with respect, that was before I knew you were concealing evidence, wasn’t it? Forgive me for saying so, but you were perfectly aware where the watch was all along.’
Meriel released her knees and allowed her feet to sink back to the floor.
‘You’re quite right, Mr Probus. I apologise. I’m being unfair. I know you’re only trying to do your best on my behalf, so please listen closely to what I am now going to say to you. I’ve been thinking very hard for these last few minutes.’
She took a few moments to compose herself before continuing.
‘I did drown my husband. Not with my bare hands, but by my actions. I truly didn’t plan to – the idea to throw his watch into the lake only occurred to me about three seconds before I did it – but I knew perfectly well he’d try and save it. I also knew that would be extremely dangerous given the conditions. And yes, when he eventually surfaced he was in a dreadful state and I did nothing to help him. Nothing at all. I was glad he was drowning. The inspector got one thing wrong, though – I didn’t stand and watch Cameron’s death throes. I couldn’t bear to. I crossed to the other side of the boat and waited there. I could hear him, though. My God, Mr Probus, I could hear him.’
The lawyer was staring at her, his eyes wide.
&nbs
p; ‘And when it was over, when he was quiet at last, and only then, I went back and threw the lifebelt in. Of course, I knew that it was pointless. I was simply covering my back.’
Probus said nothing.
After a heavy silence, Meriel took a long, shivering sigh.
‘And do you know what, Mr Probus? I’m glad. I’m glad I did it. I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad he suffered. He was an utter bastard and he got what was coming to him. I spent years putting up with the most disgusting mental abuse and humiliation, pretty much on a daily basis. Why on earth do you think I wrote The Night Book? I’m not mad; I’m not mentally ill, or psychotic. I know I’m not. It was my way of letting off steam, and when I thought I’d found a way out in the shape of Seb Richmond, I really did burn my pages. I was ashamed of them. And I had no use for them any more.
‘And then Cameron tried to blackmail me with the copies he’d secretly made. It wasn’t just that he used them to try and stop me leaving him. He said I’d have to . . . let him do things to me. Repellent things. Things in the bedroom. It was disgusting. He wanted to twist my sick imaginings into an even sicker reality – against me. I was terrified.’
She brushed a tear impatiently away from one eye. ‘I realise how cynical it sounds, describing Seb as my way out. But honestly, I’d fallen in love, probably for the first time in my life. I think I am still in love, actually, despite what’s happened. Although much good it’ll do me now. I’ll probably never see Seb again. I threw him out when he told me what he’d done, and . . . What are you doing, Mr Probus?’
He had quietly taken a slim pad from his jacket while she was talking, and was making notes in it. He glanced up at her; she could see his eyes had begun to shine.
‘Miss Kidd. I am not, to adopt the language of your profession, an “agony uncle”. I am afraid I see the world in an almost purely legal light. So I am afraid I have little in the way of emotional comfort to offer you.’
He glanced down at his notes.
‘However. As your lawyer, I think I can safely say that you have just outlined the case we are going to make for both motive and mitigation. Having heard it from your lips, unprompted by me, I have to say I find it most compelling.’
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