Love Sex Work Murder
Page 8
He cleared his throat and glanced up at Gail. She was gazing into a space about eighteen inches in front of her.
Wilson continued.
“The first picture in the series shows the same man about halfway up the concrete steps, but this time there is somebody else in the frame too. It is a woman, and she is walking next to him. The woman is Gail Timson, and the two of them are part facing towards one another, as if in conversation while they are walking.
And then he carried on in the same phlegmatic tone.
“The second photograph in the series also shows the same gentleman with Gail Timson. This time they are nearer to the camera and their expressions can be made out very clearly: they are both laughing. The man’s right arm is outstretched and he appears to be touching or patting Mrs Timson on her,” he searched momentarily for the right word, “… on her right buttock.”
Wilson then deliberately allowed a longer pause.
“There is a date and time indicated in the corner of each image. It tells us that the film was shot at twenty nine minutes past eleven on the night of September 17th of this year: in other words a little over half an hour before Barry Timson was shot dead, less than a mile away.”
Then followed yet another long pause. It would not be the last.
“Mrs Timson, are you still telling me that you are absolutely sure that you don’t know this man?”
Gail continued to ostensibly study the pictures for an unnecessarily long time. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes.
“Mrs Timson …”
“Oh yes … yes,” softly, “I remember speaking to him on the train.”
She looked up guiltily and once more quickly looked down again when her eyes met Wilson’s disdainful expression.
“I … I think he works at our place.”
“You think?”
“Yes… yes he does work there.”
“And can you tell me his name, Gail?”
She wasn’t looking at his expression, but she could feel his smugness.
She wasn’t sure, she told him, but a quick glance at another hard stare prompted her memory.
“I think his name is Nick. Yes, Nick something. I can’t remember his surname.”
“Thank you, Gail. And tell me, how well do you know this “Nick”?”
Extended pauses preceded each of her responses by now.
“I’ve met him a few times.”
“A few?”
“He came to see me for something to do with work once, and he’s been at some of the same social events as me.”
“So, do you know him well, then?”
“No, no … not really.”
“But well enough to allow him to put his hand on your bum in a public place?”
Even longer pause than usual.
Then extra quietly “We’d all had quite a bit to drink. I can’t remember much detail of that night.”
She wiped some tears away and Wilson gave her a few seconds to compose herself.
“Gail, tell me, why did you deny knowing ‘Nick’ when I showed you the first photograph?”
The usual gap followed.
“It’s not very clear… the picture.”
“It looks clear enough to me, just as clear as the other ones.”
Tearful pause.
“I don’t know. It’s all very confusing.”
“Gail, are you having a relationship with this man?”
She shook her head, slowly, still looking down at the table.
“Speak for the tape please, Gail.”
She shook her head again, and whispered, “No.”
“Have you at any time had a relationship with him?”
No, again.
It was Wilson’s turn for a long pause.
“I’m going to ask you again, Gail: Did you murder Barry Timson on the night of September 17th of this year?”
“No … I’ve told you I didn’t.”
Then, under a particularly intense stare:
“Gail, did the man that you call “Nick” murder Barry Timson?”
Nick’s Denial
“So, Nick, you admit that you know her, but, and I’m going to give this to you straight …” – Ferriby’s style was moreThe Sweeneythan Wilson’sThe Bill. “Are you having a relationship with Gail Timson?”
Nick knew what he was going to say, and he knew that he shouldn’t hesitate. All the same, he couldn’t help but pause just briefly. “…No… She’s only a colleague.”
“Only a colleague?”
“Well … a friend.”
“And how much of a friend is she, Nick?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, for example, under what circumstances do you meet your ‘friend’?”
“I dunno – work social occasions, leaving dos … that kind of thing.”
“And do you and she ever go out alone?”
“Nope. No.”
“Nick, have you ever had sex with Gail Timson?”
Nick frowned at Ferriby, “No, of course not!”
“Why ‘Of course’?”
“Well, for one thing she’s married, isn’t she?”
“… She was.”
Ferriby took a long theatrical pause. In the past it would have been accompanied by a drag on a cigarette.
“Nick, did you see Gail Timson the Saturday night before last? That’s Saturday the 17th of September.”
Nick did hesitate this time. He looked thoughtfully down at the table for a good number of seconds, before springing back into self-assured mode and looking Ferriby hard in the eye.
“Yes, I did, come to think of it. She was on the same train as me on the way home.”
Ferriby’s eyes darted a look at DI Wilson’s. “And where had you been that night, Nick?”
“London … with a mate. We’d been to football earlier, Galton vs. Norling.”
“I see. And this mate … would he have a name?”
“Yes, Nigel Hearn.”
“OK, and this ‘Nigel Hearn’ would be able to confirm that you were with him, would he?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask him if you want to.”
“Nick, had you been out with Gail Timson that night?”
“I’ve told you: No!”
“And Nick, are you having, or have you ever had, a relationship with Gail Timson?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Like I said before: no, and no. Now, have you got any different questions?”
“Yes, Nick: Did you know Gail’s husband, Barry Timson?
“No, I didn’t.”
“Have you ever met him?”
“No.”
“Have you ever seen him?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“Did you know that he had been murdered?”
Nick gave Ferriby a “Don’t be so thick” look. “Of course I did.”
“How did you know?”
“It’s been in the papers, on the telly, and everyone’s been talking about it at work. Of course I knew!” For the first time, Nick was starting to get annoyed with his inquisitors.
“Nick, did you walk along the banks of the canal on that Saturday night?”
No hesitation. “No.”
“Nick, did you kill Barry Timson?”
Good-natured Nick positively scowled. “Of course I bloody didn’t!”
“Have you any idea who might have?”
“NO!”
“Do you know of any reason why anybody might have wanted Barry Timson dead?”
“No, of course not!”
“Have you had a relationship with Gail Timson?”
“I’m getting bored of answering that one.”
“Nick…”
“No, I haven’t. Now please don’t ask that again if you want me to be helpful.”
At this point Detective Inspector Wilson decided to take a more active role in proceedings. He made eye contact with Ferriby, and that eye contact communicated that he wanted to take charge. He moved his chair a
little forward and tidied some of the pile of papers that he had extracted from a blue cardboard file on his lap.
“Nick, I have here copies of some messages sent between yourself and Gail Timson through your work email system. I shall read some of them to you.”
He composed himself and slipped on a pair of reading glasses.
“This is from you to Gail Timson on October 7th of last year: ‘Hi, hun. Thanks for last night. If that was a warm-up for the anniversary, then roll on nine days’ time! Hope you enjoyed it too’. Those words are followed by the letter ‘X’ repeated three times. And this is Gail Timson’s reply, three minutes later: ‘Hi SP! Of course I enjoyed it, I always love making you happy. And I’m really looking forward to the anniversary too – can’t wait! Would you like me to do that again for you?’ This message followed by the letter ‘X’ again, this time four times.
Wilson proceeded to read out the entirety of that particular dialogue in all its revealing cringe-inducing glory. And then he followed it with more such exchanges selected from two years’ worth of material. Nick listened to the first ones, recognising them all and in the case of his own compositions, remembering almost each and every word. But then he drifted off, thinking about Gail, and his relationship with her, and how things had developed from their early days. He was smiling to himself by the end, as well as wondering how it had all come to what it had come to.
“So, I ask you again, Nick, did you kill Barry Timson?”
“No, of course I didn’t.”
“And, Nick, do you still deny having a relationship with Gail Timson?”
And at that point Nick hesitated again. There was little point now in denying it, and he would have felt bad about doing so, for Gail’s sake. It was a big moment for Detective Inspector Raymond Wilson, but it was a much bigger one still for Nicholas Hale:
“No, I don’t deny it. Gail Timson and I have been,” and then he paused briefly, before going on “… lovers, for the last two years.”
3. Decisions
Next Time
SUBJECT: Good Morning! 25-11-2009 11:16:39
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
Hi Nick!
Hope you are having a nice day so far. Things are much the same as ever over here. I wondered, are you going to the Christine Heath’s do on the 4th?
Gail.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Do! 25-11-2009 11:28:17
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
Hello!
Yep, things much as ever here too. Dunno if I’m going to Christine’s do yet. Are you going?
Nick.
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: Re: Do! 25-11-2009 11:31:36
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
Nick,
Well, that depends.
G.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Depends 25-11-2009 11:34:26
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
On what?
N.
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: What 25-11-2009 11:35:05
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
Well I'd like to go, but I really need someone to walk me home from the station afterwards.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Shame 25-11-2009 11:36:29
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
Well, I'll give it some thought ... see if I can think of anyone.
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: Someone 25-11-2009 11:37:18
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
Thank you. He'll need to be quite strong, because I might be a bit tipsy and he might have to hold me. I don't want to get too cold either, and I won't have too much on under my overcoat.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: ! 25-11-2009 11:38:47
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
I think I might know the man for the job!
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: Re: ! 25-11-2009 11:39:11
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
Oh good! I promise to be nice to him!
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Nice 25-11-2009 11:41:52
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
How nice?
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: Re: Nice 25-11-2009 11:42:19
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
It depends how nice he is.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: ? 25-11-2009 11:42:48
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
Give me a clue.
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: How 25-11-2009 11:43:56
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
Well, if he was nice as you, for instance, then I'll be as nice as he wants me to be.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Re: How 25-11-2009 11:44:23
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
I think I'll probably go to the do, actually.
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: ! 25-11-2009 11:44:58
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
I think I will too.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Thought 25-11-2009 11:48:01
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
I've an idea! Maybe I could be the one who walks you home afterwards!
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: Re: Thought 25-11-2009 11:48:27
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
What a nice idea! Now, why didn't I think of that?
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
SUBJECT: Time 25-11-2009 11:50:02
FROM: Nick Hale NHAL003C
TO: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
Well I hope I see that you get home as early as you want to.
Nick Hale
Project Manager – Systems Development
SUBJECT: Re: Time 25-11-2009 11:51:00
FROM: Gail Timson GTIM001Q
TO: Nick Hale NHAL003C
I most certainly hope that you do! X
G.
Gail Timson
Product Merchandising
Counterfeits
Dave Ferriby stubbed out his cigarette and exhaled the last dregs of its output. His face had the pained expression that the faces of smokers often do. He looked as if he hated cigarette smoke. Then he returned indoors and re-joined Nick Hale in his interview room.
“So, Nick, I see you’re a West Ham supporter?”
Nick could detect a pointless put-the-customer-at-ease conversation easily enough, but was happy to go along with it.
“I don’t go along very often nowadays.”
“You from that neck of the woods originally then?”
“No, but my grandfather was. He used to take me along from time to time when I was a kid.”
“I s
ee.”
Ferriby had picked up a piece of paper and he squinted slightly as he cast his eyes over it. Being no more interested in pursuing football chit-chat than Nick was, he decided to return quickly to business.
“So, Nick, I see you’ve been in trouble with the police before.”
“I’m not necessarily in trouble now, am I?”
Ferriby glanced at him with the briefest of don’t-get-cocky-with-me looks.
“Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it, Nick. Now, tell me about this counterfeiting offence.”
Nick obliged. “There’s not that much to tell really. One of the people I shared a house with when I was student was a really good artist. He made up a fake twenty pound note – just for the fun of it, I think. Then everyone kept telling him how good it was, and that he should try spending it for a laugh. So he made a couple of photocopies and took them to the college bar, and it worked.
Then he made a load up. I don’t think he spent many, but he got caught cashing one in at an amusement arcade. He’d given me a few as a present. I hadn’t spent any of them, but when the police raided the house they found them in my room, and I got done as well as him.”