by Conrad Jones
‘It was at the Celtic Manor,’ the superintendent said. ‘And this was … three years ago?’
‘That’s right. It was a two-day charity event.’
‘And you met Nicola, when?’
‘The second night, after dinner. There was a nightclub on site. We ate and went down to the club after the meal. It was very busy. I think there was a wedding party in there too.’
‘Nicola was already in the club when you arrived?’
‘Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I think so, but I can’t be sure. She might have arrived after us, I don’t know.’
‘Did you approach her?’
‘No. Of course not.’ Richard shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I’m married. I don’t approach women in nightclubs.’ He glanced at Emmerson. His face was impassive. ‘I don’t go to nightclubs at all.’
‘Of course you don’t. Silly me.’ She smiled coldly. ‘She approached you?’ the superintendent asked, sarcasm in her tone. She pushed her hair behind her ears and shook her head.
‘Yes. She approached me.’
‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I was at the bar, buying a drink, and she approached me and asked me to buy her one.’ He shrugged. ‘She told me she was with her boyfriend, but they’d had an argument because she had danced with another man; he had gone home without her and left her with no money. He was the jealous type, aggressive, apparently. I felt sorry for her so I bought her a drink and we started chatting.’
‘That’s quite a detailed account, Mr Vigne. Your memory seems to be coming back.’
‘It is very hazy, actually. I didn’t connect meeting her with the accusations made against me online. It never crossed my mind it was connected to that night.’
‘Why not?’
‘Pardon me?’
‘Why didn’t you connect them?’ she pushed. ‘Someone accuses you of being with an underage girl and you didn’t connect it with Nicola?’ She paused. Richard didn’t know what to say. ‘Are there other encounters muddying the water that you had to consider?’
‘No. There are not.’ Richard was visibly shaken. He could see how this looked. Celia would be furious. It didn’t matter that he’d thought she was eighteen. That wasn’t the point any more. His stomach was tying itself in knots. ‘Look, Nicola told me she was eighteen. I had no reason to think she was lying. The two things didn’t pair up in my mind. I had no idea this was why I was arrested. I haven’t given her a second thought since that night.’
‘Really?’ The sergeant spoke for the first time. She had a sly grin on her face. Richard held eye contact with her. She didn’t like him one bit. In fact, she disliked him intensely. He could feel it. ‘You haven’t given Nicola a second thought since that night?’
‘No. I haven’t. That’s the truth.’
‘We have evidence that says otherwise,’ the sergeant said.
‘I think I need a word with my client alone,’ Emmerson said. He wasn’t happy with where the interview was going. He could feel them leading his client down the garden path where there would be a nasty surprise waiting for them. It was obvious. ‘I’d like a break.’
‘I’ll bet that you do,’ the superintendent said, nodding. ‘Before you do, look at one more photograph.’ Emmerson nodded and sat back. She placed a picture on the table of Richard kissing the girl. Emmerson rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head. They were on a dancefloor and someone else had taken the picture. ‘It looks like things were getting steamy in this one,’ she commented. Richard had one hand on Nicola’s face and the other on her lower back, just above her buttocks.
‘I don’t remember that,’ Richard muttered. He blushed purple. He was in an elevator, plummeting down the shaft with no brakes. He’d had no idea that photograph had been taken. Nicola Hadley had her tongue down his throat. He remembered kissing her for a few seconds before pushing her away. It was only once, and he had no idea someone had photographed him. Trying to convince people that it had happened once, for just a few seconds, would be virtually impossible. The cold facts were, she was a thirteen-year-old girl, and he was a school teacher. There would be no grey areas. How was he going to explain this to Celia and the twins? Sorry, Celia. I didn’t know how old she was, darling. That wouldn’t wash. She would see the photograph and her imagination would run wild and fill in the gaps. He could feel his marriage dissolving around him. All the years of denying any unfaithfulness would be brought into question again. She would never believe him, not in a million years. That photograph would ruin any stability they had left. Even if she believed him, she would never forgive him. She was insecure enough at the best of times. The photograph was life changing, life destroying, and he had no idea who had taken it. It was the end of things as he knew them. He had the sensation the air had been sucked from the room.
‘Would you like to explain this photograph to me, Mr Vigne?’
‘I was drunk. I don’t remember kissing her.’ He shook his head. The detectives had him over a barrel. He couldn’t deny it. At the time, it was a nothing moment, but now it was like a nuclear bomb going off in his life. ‘She must have grabbed me for the photograph. I didn’t even know it had been taken. She must have grabbed me for a second and someone took the photograph.’
‘You don’t look like you’re under duress, Mr Vigne.’
‘She must have grabbed me,’ he repeated.
‘You’re a big, fit man, Mr Vigne,’ Joanne said. ‘Grabbed? By a teenager?’
‘I don’t remember it.’
‘That is convenient.’
‘I was very drunk.’
‘And that makes it okay, does it?’
‘No, of course not. I don’t usually drink at all, but I did that night.’
‘And what?’
‘It was just a dance, she tried to kiss me and I told her no.’ Richard protested. ‘I pushed her away. That photograph is misleading.’
‘So, you do remember?’
‘Sort of. It’s very hazy.’
‘But you said you don’t remember.’
‘It is very patchy.’
‘Patchy?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell us what you do remember.’
‘We had drinks, shots. Then we danced, but she was flirting and I needed to put her straight,’ Richard said, looking at Emmerson. Emmerson nodded for him to continue. ‘I told her I was married and that I had kids not much younger than her.’ He shrugged. His mouth was dry. He looked at Emmerson again. Emmerson nodded that he should continue. ‘That picture was just a moment. It was seconds, honestly.’ He shrugged. ‘I know it looks bad, but I told her I was married and she backed off.’
‘Considering you denied ever seeing her before, I’m struggling to believe a word you say, Mr Vigne.’
‘That’s enough. We won’t be saying any more until I’ve spoken to my client alone.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Richard said. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. His hands were trembling beneath the table. He was desperate to find the words that could explain the situation but he was struggling to think. ‘I want to answer your questions. This isn’t what it looks like.’ The detectives looked at him, expectantly. Their eyes bored into his. Fucking liar, they said. ‘I can explain this. Please, let me try.’
‘I’m advising you not to say anything at all,’ Emmerson said, sternly. ‘You would be wise to listen to my advice.’
‘I need to clear this up,’ Richard said. ‘I need to clear it up, right now.’
‘We’re waiting,’ Joanne said, sitting back and folding her arms. ‘Are you admitting to knowing Nicola Hadley now?’
‘Yes,’ Richard mumbled. ‘Well, sort of.’
‘Looks like more than “sort of” here, wouldn’t you say?’ she said, pointing at the picture of the kiss. ‘This looks like you were getting to know her quite well.’
‘It was a drunken moment, nothing more.’
‘Nothing more?’
‘No. Nothing.’
‘Nothing else h
appened that night?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you take her back to your room after this photograph was taken?’
Emmerson looked at Richard, thunder in his eyes. He placed his hand on his arm and leaned closer to him, speaking quietly in his ear.
‘We are entering the point of no return, Richard,’ Emmerson said. ‘Think very carefully about every word you say. I am repeating my advice to you, to not say anything at all.’ Richard took a deep breath.
‘She did come back to the apartment,’ Richard said. Emmerson sighed in frustration. ‘Let me explain what happened,’ Richard stammered. Sweat was trickling down his forehead now. Emmerson looked horrified. He sat back and listened intently, ready to intervene. Richard was digging a big hole for himself; he knew he was, they knew he was. He had to try to convince them his intentions had been honourable. The evidence was damning, and it painted a picture of a sordid encounter that never happened. He had to try and explain. ‘It isn’t what it looks like. I’ll explain.’
‘Please do.’
‘We were drunk, but at no point did I do anything inappropriate.’ He paused. It didn’t sound good, no matter how he said it. How could he say it without sounding like a pervert? ‘At the end of the night, I said I would make sure she got home safely. We asked reception for a taxi, but they couldn’t get one for her.’
‘Why not?’
‘There was a football game on and Cardiff was busy. They had no cabs available.’
‘And she was your responsibility, was she?’
‘She was on her own.’
‘The hotel receptionist would have looked after her until a cab became available.’ The superintendent suggested, shaking her head. ‘Why all the concern?’
‘I know how this looks.’
‘You do?’
‘Look.’ Richard tried to compose himself. ‘She said her boyfriend had left her with no money, so I offered to pay for a cab so she got home safely.’
‘So why didn’t you give her the money and leave her in reception, or were you hoping for more?’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘What was it like?’
‘There were lots of people around, men mostly,’ Richard said. ‘They were drunk and trying to pull anything that moved.’ He shrugged and looked from one woman to the other. ‘You must know what it’s like at the end of the night?’ The detectives looked at each other and shook their heads. ‘I couldn’t leave her in reception on her own. They would have been all over her. I was just looking after her.’
‘It’s refreshing to hear chivalry isn’t dead,’ the superintendent said. ‘So, what happened next?’
‘We tried some more local cab firms but we couldn’t get one, so, after about an hour, I said she could sleep on the settee in the apartment and get a taxi in the morning.’
‘So, you did take her back to your room?’
‘No. Not like you mean.’
‘What do I mean?’
‘I know what you’re implying, but that didn’t happen.’ Richard wagged his index finger as if she were a pupil misbehaving. She was trying to trap him. He could feel her reeling him in. ‘I was trying to help a vulnerable young girl, that’s all.’
‘She was vulnerable, alright. She was thirteen.’
‘I didn’t know that at the time. I had no idea how young she was and no intentions of trying anything with her. That was not my thought process.’ Richard stressed. The superintendent raised her eyebrows and shook her head. ‘It wasn’t like I was taking her to a bedroom. It was a two-bedroom apartment, with a living room and a settee.’ Richard tried to remain calm as he explained. ‘I was sharing with another bloke. We had a bedroom each and there was a shared lounge and kitchen and there was a bed settee in the living room. I said she could sleep there, honestly,’ Richard insisted. ‘It was perfectly innocent. I did not touch that girl.’
‘Nicola Hadley.’
‘Yes. Nicola Hadley.’
‘That isn’t what she says.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean exactly what I said,’ the superintendent said, calmly. ‘Nicola has given us a very different version.’
‘She can’t have because that is the truth,’ Richard said.
‘She said you had sex with her on the settee.’
‘That’s a lie!’ Richard shouted.
‘Why would she lie?’
The comment landed like a sledgehammer had hit him across the back of the head. Everything else could have been verified and forgiven, but not this. The police had a girl saying she’d had sex with a man when she was thirteen years old. No one would believe him. He put his head in his hands. This was the end of everything: marriage, career, friends, family. He had to find a way to convince them he was telling the truth, but how?
‘I did not have sex with her,’ he insisted. He stood up and tapped the table. ‘I am telling you, I did not have sex with that girl.’
‘Sit down, Mr Vigne,’ the superintendent said, waiting for him to be seated.
‘I did not have sex with her, please, believe me.’ Richard sighed. He wanted to crawl under the table and die. The resentment he felt towards the police was diminishing. Nicola Hadley had told them that he’d had sex with her when she was thirteen. What else could they do but arrest him and ask the question? He thought about what had been said; the photographs backed up her story. What could he say to prove he was telling the truth? His mind was numb. ‘I didn’t have sex with Nicola Hadley, superintendent.’
‘She says you did.’
‘She’s lying.’
‘Why would she lie?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘She’s given a very detailed statement of what you did to her, how long for, and how many times.’
‘Fucking hell!’ Richard muttered. ‘This just gets worse by the second.’ His mind was in a spin. It was difficult to comprehend what was happening.
‘Would you like me to read her statement to you?’
‘No, I would not. I don’t believe this is happening,’ Richard said, turning to Emmerson. ‘I did not touch that girl, but what can I say to prove it?’
‘My client categorically denies having sex with Miss Hadley.’
‘Does he indeed?’ Joanne said, coldly. She sat back. ‘Okay. Tell me what did happen, in your own words.’
‘Nothing happened,’ Richard said. ‘We got back to the apartment and I took a spare quilt from the wardrobe. When I went back into the living room, she was already asleep. I covered her up, got a glass of water, and went to bed.’ He looked from one detective to the other. They didn’t believe a word he was saying, he could see it in their eyes. ‘I covered her up and went to bed,’ he repeated. ‘When I woke up in the morning, I was thirsty and wanted more water. When I walked through the apartment to the kitchen, she had gone.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Yes.’
‘You didn’t have sex with Nicola Hadley?’
‘I told you. No. She’s lying.’
‘If you didn’t have sex with her, can you explain how she got pregnant?’
‘What?’ Richard asked, his voice a whisper. His blood ran cold.
‘Nicola Hadley was pregnant with your baby.’ Joanne weighed up his reaction. He could feel her eyes boring into him. He was stunned. Just when he thought it couldn’t be any worse, it was. ‘She protected you and wouldn’t tell her parents who the father was. Her mother and father talked her into having an abortion. She aborted your child.’
‘You’re not listening to me,’ Richard stammered. Saliva clung to his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. ‘I gave her somewhere to sleep for the night.’
‘You gave her more than that.’
‘Superintendent!’ Emmerson interrupted. ‘A little decorum, please.’
‘Your client doesn’t deserve decorum,’ she snapped. ‘He’s lied from the minute we picked him up, playing t
he innocent in all this. The only innocent party in this, is a thirteen-year-old girl, who you groomed with alcohol, invited back to your apartment, and abused.’ She glared at Richard. He could feel himself withering beneath her gaze. He wanted to die. ‘Your client needs to realise how serious his situation is and admit to what he has done.’
Richard was about to speak but Emmerson silenced him with a nudge of his elbow. He looked him in the eye and put his finger to his lips.
‘That isn’t the way I’m seeing the situation, superintendent,’ Emmerson said. ‘May I ask why Miss Hadley has chosen to make a complaint now?’
‘What?’
‘Why come forward now, making these wild accusations?’
‘When Mr Vigne finished the relationship–’
‘What fucking relationship?’ Richard interrupted. He stood up again.
‘Sit down, Mr Vigne,’ the superintendent snapped. ‘This “little boy lost” act is beginning to grate on my nerves.’ Richard couldn’t argue any more. His strength was waning. ‘I said, sit down.’ Richard sat down and put his head on the table. He tried to switch off what was happening. ‘As I was saying, when your client ended the relationship, Nicola suffered bouts of depression, and attempted suicide several times. Part of her therapy was facing up to the fact that she was raped at thirteen years of age.’
‘Raped?’ Emmerson said, calmly.
‘She thinks her drink was spiked.’
‘What with, alcohol?’ Emmerson snorted. ‘She was thirteen and drinking heavily.’
‘She wasn’t old enough to give consent.’
‘Rape, is stretching it.’
‘Nicola was sectioned for her own safety, which shattered her family. Her father told her story to a predator hunting group online and passed them the information. They contacted us, and we spoke to her family,’ the superintendent said. ‘We had to investigate the accusations.’