by CM Thompson
“Give me a sec,” Grimm says before vanishing down the corridor, leaving Colvin alone to stare intently at Mr Daniel Mills. Mr Mills, Colvin decides, is the type of person she would expect to see in here as a victim, not as a person of interest or a prisoner-defendant. He has the characteristics of a duped John or a mugging victim. In her opinion, he looks like an owlish teacher, middle-aged, chubbing more around the sides as he loses on top. If she got on his bad side, she would expect him to retaliate with a strongly written letter, the type who hides behind letters and rules, not the type to attack outright. Not a physical aggressor by nature, but then she is well aware anything can happen in the heat of the moment. He does look tired and stressed, that is a good start, tired people can’t always think straight, sometimes they break more easily. His hands are already trembling, nerves have hit him hard. He looks the type that will talk, the I-will-confess-all-in-exchange-for-leniency type. The it was an accident! type.
Mr Mills can’t deny that he had been in some kind of fight today. You didn’t have to be a detective to know that, looking at the three bright red scratches running down his face. Something, like a certain lady’s fingernails perhaps, had dug in deep at his forehead, tearing down at his meaty cheeks, the lines breaking only at his glasses. Not deep enough to be the source of the bloody mess in his house, but deep enough to contribute a few drops of blood. Now the real question is, who or what caused those scratches, was it the same thing that has caused the small swelling to form on his bottom lip? Something that happened as she was falling? Or what led to the push? Colvin takes a deep breath and cautions herself about jumping to conclusions. Mr Mills could have had an encounter with an angry cat or got into a fight with a stripper. He could have a reasonable explanation about why he and his wife lived in squalor and neglect.
Daniel looks down at the table as they enter the room. Colvin thinks she sees a scowl cross his chubby face. She sits down as Grimm starts setting up the tapes.
Daniel doesn’t want to talk to them, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He has been waiting so long for someone to come in and now he just wants them to go away again. He suspects that Peter isn’t getting treated like this. Peter was probably allowed to go home hours ago. Peter has always been good at talking his way out of a situation, just like his sister. Peter is probably at home, laughing at him. These officers are probably just the beginning. Daniel imagines that they are the first in a long line of officers just waiting for their chance to laugh at the loser. Anne-Marie undoubtedly had planned this all along. She wasn’t really dead, she is backstage, somewhere out of sight, laughing along with Sherri. It’s just a game, the first episode in a new TV show, How to Humiliate your Husband or something equally stupid. It’s all just a joke, a big, unfunny joke. They have really got him, ha ha, those special effects really fooled him into thinking his wife is dead. He holds his breath, waiting for the presenter of the show to show up and announce the joke. He is ready to laugh it off and say something like, “You really scared me there, honey” or something equally macho.
That blood had looked so realistic. The paramedics had been good actors, he has to admit, really authentic. They had him worried for a while but now he has figured it all out. He is poised, ready to laugh a fake laugh, Oh you guys got me good this time. They can’t drag this out much more. Any minute now. It’s going to be such a relief. Any minute now.
In front of him, Grimm is busy unwrapping tapes and explaining the recording equipment. Daniel isn’t really paying attention. He is purposely avoiding eye contact with the other officer, who is staring intently at him. She is probably on Anne-Marie’s side, savouring the joke.
“This is DCI Nicolas Grimm and DCI Sam Colvin interviewing …” one officer announces to the machine. This has definitely got to be a stunt, no one would have a name as ridiculous as that in real life, Daniel thinks, as Grimm states the date and time to the recording equipment. They are really playing this joke to the death, aren’t they?
“Please state your full name.” Daniel hopes all the questions will be this easy.
“Daniel Ian Mills.” God, how cruel his parents were. The officers will have a good laugh at that too, everyone else did.
“Please state your full address.” Daniel states his address in a low voice, he doesn’t want to think of home right now.
“Please state your date of birth.” Why do they need him to state this? Surely they would already know. This interview is going to take for ever if they keep asking pointless questions, but Daniel begrudgingly complies. The female cop seems to be scribbling something intently, whilst peeking glances at him. Daniel wishes he could grab the notepad, yell at her that this joke is not funny any more, but he knows he needs to keep playing along.
“At the moment, there is no lawyer present, are you sure you wish to proceed without one?”
“Yes.”
“You have the right to free and independent advice either in person or over the phone. If at any point you wish to seek legal advice, please tell me and I can stop the interview to allow you to contact a representative.” Grimm is good at being polite and calm, he has to be; one rude word, one impolite gesture can throw the whole interview.
Daniel doesn’t appreciate his politeness, he just wishes they would shut up about the damn lawyer already.
“I now need to caution you,” Grimm continues. Oh my god, here we go, thinks Daniel. “It is important that you understand, you do not have to say anything,” but anything you do say, yadda yadda, come on hurry up, I want to go. “It may harm your defence if you don’t mention, when questioned, something which you may later have to rely on in court.” Court? Court? They are really taking this joke too far now. “Do you understand?” This isn’t real, is it? “Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” Daniel hears himself mumble.
“This is your opportunity to explain what happened today.” I don’t know what’s going on any more. “You are not currently under arrest.” But if I try to leave the room, I will be, won’t I? That female officer looks like she is dying to get her handcuffs out, and not in a good way either.
Colvin notes that Mr Mills is visibly uncomfortable, he is leaning away from the table, distancing himself from the officers. She thinks he will be unwilling to trust them or even to tell the complete truth. He is only here because he thinks he has to be. People these days feel they have to play a certain role or act in a certain way at interviews, sometimes this works to their advantage. She supposes they just don’t know what to do or say, so they take cues from what they have seen on television. It is true that Daniel can leave at any time, but they will soon have him back again if he does.
“Would you like a drink or anything to eat before we start?” Grimm is the good cop after all, his voice has taken on that fatherly tone again.
Daniel mutters “No.” He is not falling for that one. Daniel is still hoping that this is a joke, a stupid stunt, but that is starting to feel like a foolish hope, just like the possibility his wife is still alive.
“Do you have any questions before we start?”
Another muttered “No.”
Colvin thinks this interview is going to be slow, painful and of no use to anyone. They have to go through all the motions, jump through the right hoops. Where will Grimm start? “Mr Mills, did you murder your wife?” is direct at least, but maybe too blunt. Murder is a nasty word, people prefer to use words like accidents, incidents. She needs to be fair, there might be a good explanation behind Mrs Mills’ death. But an honest answer to that question would save them days and days of mind numbing, exhaustive backbreaking work. Especially as Colvin thinks she knows the answer to this question. So does Grimm.
“What do you do for a living, Mr Mills?”
“I am an accountant,” Daniel mutters. He is a desk jockey, a drone, it’s nothing of interest. He is coming to a sinking realisation that the police are likely to interview everyone he knows, not just Peter but Sherri, and probably his boss, his co-workers,
his neighbours, so many people who didn’t like him because of Anne-Marie, so many people who will relish in the opportunity to drag his name through the mud and deeper.
“Did you go to work today?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you go to work today?”
“I have some holiday I am using up.” A holiday at home because Anne-Marie didn’t want to go anywhere. Daniel had desperately wanted a week away in the sun, but there never seemed a right time to talk about it. He would have even paid for an all-inclusive just to keep her supplied, but every time he tried to bring up the subject, she ignored him. They couldn’t really afford it anyway and it probably wouldn’t have been worth it.
“How long have you been on holiday for?”
“Three days.” Three miserable, television-filled days, chugging weak beer and wishing he was back at work. No wonder he had snapped. He was supposed to be off for another week and a half, but had been considering going back early. Cancelling his leave until Anne-Marie was better.
Colvin notices the flash of anger sprinting across Daniel’s face. She thinks her earlier impression of the owlish teacher may be wrong. Daniel Mills is not as harmless as he appears to be.
“So, starting from this morning, what did you do today?”
“I got up, ate breakfast, watched the news.” The morning seems so long ago now. He had woken up alone and tired. Anne-Marie had started drunkenly singing last night, at god knows what time, before loudly crashing into the bathroom and slamming the door. Anne-Marie didn’t get out of bed until midday today and she was already drunk. Should he tell the officers that? That his wife was drunk before she even got out of bed? He doesn’t even know if she did go to bed last night, she might have just passed out on the floor. He has to give them something more, he knows that, something to make them see how difficult she was being, but he just doesn’t know what to say. What do they want from him?
“Then what happened?”
There is a long pause; both officers can see that Daniel is closed up, not wanting to talk. Grimm knows that this isn’t necessarily a sign that he is guilty. From experience Grimm knows that sometimes the chatterboxes, the ones who try to smoke screen their way through, the ones who think they can lead the interview, the ones who try too hard to appear as the good guy, they are the ones you should be suspicious of. The important thing to do, he reminds himself, is stay calm and appear in charge. He thinks Daniel might respond well to a sympathetic ear, he knows already the Mills did not have a happy marriage. What they needed to know is how unhappy it was.
“I just want to hear your side of the story, Mr Mills,” Grimm says in a slightly sympathetic tone. Well, it’s not like they are going to hear Mrs Mills side.
There is an audible sigh, Daniel drops his head, exhausted. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to go to home either, or anywhere else. He wishes he could be someone else. He regrets every choice in his life, everything that led him to Anne-Marie’s arms and kept him there.
“Anne-Marie got up about twelve-ish.” Daniel had been getting ready to leave house, contemplating where to treat himself to a lunch, alone. He was just looking for his wallet when she appeared. If only she had got up ten minutes later or if he had made his mind up sooner. “I was just about to leave.” What does he tell them now? Does he say, I was going to meet a friend for lunch, so he doesn’t sound like a complete loser, but then they would want to know who the friend was. Or does he say, I was about to leave for lunch, without Anne-Marie, because that’s how shit our marriage had become. “I was going food shopping.” Daniel can feel his cheeks flush and ducks his head a little more. He is a bad liar, now they will all think he is lying for a different reason. Might as well come out with it all now. They already know what a loser he is. “She was already drunk when she got up.” Not a happy drunk either. “Where the fuck are you going?” had been her first slur.
Something inside Daniel had snapped. Why did he have to put up with this shit? It wasn’t fair. “Don’t you talk to me like that”, or something along those lines, is what he snarled in response. He may or may not have added the word bitch in the heat of the moment, his mouth had said words without thought.
“We started fighting and I left the house.”
“What were you fighting about?”
Daniel really doesn’t want to answer this question. Everything, they were fighting about everything these days, neither of them willing to back down. Money or the lack of it. Alcohol. Food. The arguments were easier to cope with than the constant silent treatment, which also had been his mother’s weapon of choice.
“Oh, just something really petty.”
Grimm stays silent, waiting for Daniel to expand on his answer. Daniel has closed his eyes, he is trying to block out the police officers, the interview room, Anne-Marie, everything. In his mind, Daniel is trying to reach a happy place, a deserted island somewhere warm.
“She saw I was leaving and she didn’t want me to leave.” It was a continuation of a previous fight. They had fought the night before: their fifth wedding anniversary was in three days, and he wanted to do something special, something to try and help them to remember that they loved each other. She wanted to get drunk. They had fought, he had retreated to the TV, she had retreated to the bottle. It’s probably why she had woken him with her singing, just out of pure spite. He had gone to bed angry, had been woken up repeatedly during the night, then woke up mid-morning still angry. He had then exploded when he saw her already drunk early in the afternoon. Really, why was he even trying any more?
“I didn’t tell her I was only going out for some food. She thought I was really leaving.” He had wanted to upset her. He was so angry with her, part of it was spite but it was also to help her, well that is what he will tell himself later. Over and over. He just thought if he could make her see how much she was hurting him and herself. Maybe if she thought she was going to lose him for good this time, he had rationalised, maybe she would finally agree to get help. It was a shitty plan but he didn’t know what else to do. In his mind, when he fantasised about this plan, she had fallen to her knees, begging him not to leave and she would do anything. He would drop her off at some rehab clinic, and she would emerge a few months later, marriage saved. He never expects her to lunge at him, screaming.
Silence.
“Then we started fighting,” he mumbles. The police officers probably just think he is a pussy. He can’t tell them everything, they won’t understand.
“When you fought with your wife, did the fight turn physical?” Colvin doesn’t know how Grimm is able to ask that without a hint of a smirk, of course it turned physical; Mr Mills had no other explanation for the long scratch marks. There was no way Mr Mills could deny it. Of course he wasn’t going to admit to everything, not straight away, they always start with a lie, then a half truth, whatever they think they could get away with.
Daniel deflates even more, the officers definitely think he is a pussy, he can see it in their eyes. He is tired of making excuses for Anne-Marie, tired of defending her from what people thought. What does he have left to lose now? She took his dignity years ago. Why is he still protecting her? It’s an automatic response these days.
“Yes, when I told her I was leaving, she …” He dry swallows, suddenly feeling very thirsty. “She kept trying to scratch my eyes out,” he says finally, with a slight gesture towards his face. Not an easy thing to do to a person who wears glasses, but Anne-Marie was drunk and determined. She just wouldn’t stop. Daniel thought he had seen all of Anne-Marie’s bad side, but he had never seen her like this … ferocious. He thought she was going to kill him with her bare hands. Was she trying to stop him from leaving or just put him off ever coming back? Or did she just want him dead?
“What did you do?”
“I tried to hold her back. She just wouldn’t stop … She started screaming at me … telling me she hated me, I couldn’t make her stop.”
“How were you restraining her?”
“I was holding her wrists. She then started trying to stomp on my feet.” The officer who had taken his clothes earlier had remarked with astonishment at the bruises on his feet, then insisted on taking a photo. She tried biting him too, she was an angry, drunk mess. “I couldn’t control her.”
“Then what happened?” Grimm continues to prod, with a note of sympathy in his voice.
It sounds fake to Daniel. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he has nothing to hide. “I pushed her backwards.”
It was inevitable that something like this would happen. They were arguing more than ever, she was drinking more than ever, something he didn’t think was even possible. In the previous months, she had started lashing out at him more, drunken slaps that she insisted didn’t hurt. One of the reasons he took this holiday was to try and figure out what was upsetting her so much, before any of his colleagues saw the bruises she was inflicting.
She had been driving him mad all this week. She was determined to be either drunk or sad, there was no snapping her out of it. She seemed to have an endless supply of alcohol now, and Daniel had no idea where she was getting it from. On his first day off he was determined to use his time to help her, restore their marriage and eat some cookies, no more ignoring the problem. He tried and she wore him out in less than a day. On that first day, he noticed her door open. She was sitting on the bed and barely acknowledged him when he said good morning. She just sat there, staring at nothing. Her room was a mess again, a graveyard of spirit bottles.