The Camera Lies: a gripping psychological thriller

by AB Morgan

  ‘What made you kill your second wife then, if a painful divorce and betrayal wasn’t enough to drive you to any sort of violent reaction, what did?’ Konrad had floundered. He hadn’t expected Matthew Hawley to be so grounded, rational and implacable.

  The best psychopath I’ve ever met, he decided.

  Annette piped up. ‘Stop there a second. Where were you going with these opening questions, Kon? You let him sidetrack you. I think we may have to cut that bit of waffle. Scoot through to the question about first meeting Helena.’ The editing suite was silent again as they identified the moment Matthew began the details of his relationship with the woman he would eventually kill.

  ‘We met through a dating site. Yes, I know, not romantic or original these days, but I’d avoided any form of relationship for at least two years after my divorce from Amy. I focussed on Josh and we had loads of good times together every Saturday afternoon. We played football, went roller-skating, fishing, that type of boy’s stuff. It was great, and I enjoyed time with Josh, but I’m human after all and hankered for female company that was a bit more meaningful than a quick bang with the barmaid at the Bird in Hand.’

  The interview, with the cameras rolling, became more of a natural conversation as the two men settled into the rhythm of the story. Matthew’s facial features had relaxed as he spoke, remembering with fondness the times together with his only son.

  ‘Whose idea was it to try Internet dating?’

  ‘Gary at work. He’s a bit of a wag on the surface, but he’s a nice bloke who eventually convinced himself that I was heading for eternal solitude and blindness due to nights playing with myself.’

  Konrad chuckled.

  ‘It was Gary who helped with the wording on the application for one of those dating sites for professional singles, and we tinkered about with photos on my phone, trying to make me look macho and confident. Anyway, it worked. I had at least three disastrous dates before I met Helena.’ Matthew rubbed his hands up and down the length of his thighs before being able to continue. Knowing Matthew didn’t react like that when he spoke about Amy and his divorce, Konrad made a mental note to check with the editing team whether that movement was clear to see on film. Matthew gave a short cough before he recommenced.

  ‘She was an absolute stunner. I remember we’d agreed to meet at Gino’s, an Italian restaurant. We’d chatted online about everyday mundane nonsense, you know; books we’d read, sports we enjoyed and food, which is why we settled on Italian for dinner. I’d promised faithfully to arrive early because she said she was worried about turning up on her own and being left in the lurch. So, I made sure I was there sitting at a small table facing the door and I happened to be chatting to the waiter about… I can’t think now, the weather probably, when Helena walked in. My heart sank.’

  ‘Did it? Why?’ Konrad asked without hesitation.

  ‘Because there was no way a woman like her was going to find a man like me the least bit attractive. I was fit and healthy all right, but not your toned tanned beefcake, and I wasn’t wealthy or powerful either. I didn’t stand a chance; all the aphrodisiacs were missing.’

  Annette paused the run-through in the editing room. ‘Do we have that photo of Matthew from when he was first dating Helena? Having sight of that will give the audience a better idea of how much change he went through from the exercise regimes and the surgery, don’t you agree? Let’s make a note of that then. Good.’

  Slow Joe put the digital photo of Matthew Hawley on the computer screen in front of them and Konrad shook his head in disbelief. ‘Christ, he looked like a different man back then. When was this taken?’

  ‘The date says twelfth of April 2013.’

  ‘Bloody hell, what a difference between that and the photo of him with Helena at the charity gala a year later. Have we got that one to hand, Joe?’ Konrad asked, intrigued by the contrast between the pictures. After some mouse clicking, Joe managed to get the images side by side on one of the three screens.

  ‘Save that please, Joe,’ demanded Annette, who, like Konrad, was staring at the monitor in awe. ‘The nose job is amazing, and look at the difference in his physical shape, he must have spent hours in the gym to get like that.’

  ‘Nice teeth. They’re definitely expensive. Now look at her, look at Helena, in those pictures. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?’ asked Konrad.

  The other two men in the room nodded emphatically, but Annette shook her head. ‘No, what about her?’

  ‘Her tits have got to be two sizes bigger at least.’

  ‘Are you sure? They can’t be plastic; they look too real. It could be the camera angle, or a better bra. But look at her mouth… see? Fewer lines. Botox probably. Nice lips. She’s a beauty, there’s no doubt about that.’

  ‘Was a beauty.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right on several counts. We’ll use these contrasting pictures for sure. Nice work. Thanks, Joe. Take a note of the time code at that section, would you. What a lovely sound bite from Matthew. “I didn’t stand a chance; all the aphrodisiacs were missing.”’ Joe looked around as if searching for someone else called Joe, but once it dawned that Annette had paid him a compliment he beamed across at Konrad for confirmation.

  Following the pause in proceedings, the team returned to the task in hand. Watching and making notes about the interviews with Matthew Hawley in HMP Longlees, Konrad could recall every minute and as he watched the playbacks he relived and analysed each moment.

  On the screen he was seen smiling amiably at Matthew. ‘That was your view but it seems, from the evidence, that Helena must have found something attractive about you, because you had a whirlwind of a courtship leading swiftly to marriage six months later. Most people would say you landed on your feet there, Matthew. Helena Chawston was a wealthy lady, so she wasn’t looking for your money. She ran her own successful business and was a bright, intelligent woman by all accounts. What was it she found in you, do you think?’

  ‘A sex toy.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Konrad sat back in his chair pulling away from Matthew in surprise. What the hell? Where did that reply come from? He didn’t say that in court.

  ‘There wasn’t much mention of that specific side of your relationship during your trial, so I find myself wondering why you’ve just made that comment.’

  ‘You’re right, Helena didn’t need money, but she was attracted to my vulnerability and potential to be the man she wanted in her life. What she needed was my obedience, my loyalty, and undivided attention to make her life complete. I’m not an idiot, but because she took her time to win my affections she made certain, once I had fallen for her, that I couldn’t bear to leave.’

  ‘Why do you think that was?’

  Matthew took his time to find the right words. ‘Absolute and overriding dread of rejection was her driving force. Only with hindsight can I see that she continually tested my devotion to alleviate her fears. Although I’m sure any good psychologist could tell you that, if they cared to examine the right evidence. I didn’t understand her motives at the time but I wouldn’t have wanted to leave; she gave me everything. You need to understand, Mr Neale, that Helena was amazing. When I first met her, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.’

  Konrad couldn’t help himself. As he watched the interview in the editing suite, he thought of his own wife, Delia, and began to drift into a reverie. God, she was the sexiest bitch I’d ever had the pleasure of bedding. Those were the days when we first dated… shagging anywhere and everywhere. Legs up to her armpits and the best tits in town. Nowadays, sex has to be booked into Delia’s diary and it’s a rare treat. “There’s a good boy, thanks for the new earrings, if you really insist on a quick one, do it now before I have to get ready to go to book club. I can spare five minutes. Help yourself and don’t make a mess”.

  It took determined mental focus to shake himself back into paying attention to the monitor screens before him, and to Matthew’s words.

  3

  ‘Sex was the carrot she
dangled in front of me. She was good at it. Really good. You have to remember, Mr Neale, that I’d chosen to be without a regular relationship for nigh on two years, and to have a woman who resembled a 1950s pin-up girl in my arms was a miracle. Helena had an hourglass figure, not flat thin and scrawny, she was soft and womanly, and smelt amazing. I’m not a lover of strong perfumes, and in my view stacks of cosmetics slapped on a woman makes her look cheap, whoever she may be. Helena had it right. A subtle smell of perfume always greeted me as I nuzzled her neck, with enough make-up on to accentuate her eyes and make her lips seem moist and inviting. Sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it?

  Konrad had to agree. ‘Yes, it does.’

  ‘It was, and for the first few months I walked around in a permanent state of sexual excitement. It was blissfully excruciating and exactly what she wanted to achieve. Helena would look at me across a room full of people when we attended those endless charity functions and she would only have to run her tongue across her lips to have me dribbling.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t bought that easily; you see I didn’t trust her to begin with. Let’s face it, I was having a good time, but there was no way I was contemplating a long-term relationship with a woman who most men would give their eye-teeth for. In my mind, she would be off with the first Adonis that caught her attention.’

  Konrad sympathised with Matthew’s assessment of the situation. ‘Divorce can have that effect, can’t it? That… lack of trust. Still, she didn’t seem to be interested in other men, did she? From what was described in the evidence to the court at your trial, almost the opposite occurs. She builds a life with you and around your needs.’

  Sitting watching in the editing suite, Konrad had vivid recall of this part of the interview. He had become determined to catch Matthew out, to trip him up by finding any inconsistencies in his story of the events, but as hard as he tried to keep his focus on teasing the next fact from Matthew, he couldn’t stop picturing the luscious Helena. Watching the interview again, he was caught in the same trap.

  I’m turning into a filthy lascivious middle-aged tosser. What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t have been imagining my head between her boobs. She’s a dead woman, for Christ’s sake.

  ‘It appears that she built her life around me. That’s the impression she wanted everyone to see. You’re right, she focussed on me and she built trust by creating dependence.

  ‘Let me try to explain. With Amy, I hadn’t taken enough time to be with her and do things together. We’d allowed our lives to drift apart and I spent too many hours at work. Even so, I never thought she would cheat, and that was crushing. Helena spent time with me, we had a lot in common: music, film, a love of the outdoors, and she had a sharp mind. The more conversations we had the more she gained an understanding of my insecurities; my underlying fears, likes, dislikes and she also lavished presents on me. Not just sex, but treats and gifts, as I did for her. We did things together for fun and she made me laugh.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Matthew, but that sounds to me as if what you had was a normal, healthy relationship.’

  ‘Yes, I know it does, and it was normal and healthy until small things started to happen to change the balance of power. She worked hard to help me build trust, and once she had that, I was hers to do with as she pleased.’

  Matthew pointed to the desk at which Konrad was sitting. ‘You have an iPhone. Then you’ll understand what I’m talking about. We used Find Friends to keep track of each other and it helped to identify where she was. I could press a button and have confirmation that she was at home in her office, at the hairdressers, having her nails done, or having coffee with a client. Helena took the time to meet my work colleagues by coming along to a couple of evening socials with my team and their other halves, and I had regular contact with her staff.’

  ‘Tell me about them.’

  ‘Helena’s? There were only the two of them: Naomi and Richard. Richard was quite young, but he had been with Helena since he’d left school and he lodged in the upstairs flat above the offices. Lovely chap, hard-working, efficient but quiet. Naomi joined the business a year or so before I came on the scene. She and Helena were like two peas in a pod. More like best friends than a work relationship I would say. Their offices were in a separate annex to our main house, so as far as work was concerned they didn’t interfere with our private lives. Not in the beginning anyway.’

  ‘What about your family? How did that work?’

  ‘Helena came with me to meet Josh within a month of our first date, and eventually she met Amy, which wasn’t as awkward as I expected. Without me interfering, they seemed to be able to negotiate when Josh would spend time with us, and as the weeks went by, Helena organised really brilliant days out. She seemed to instinctively understand that being fourteen, Josh was at the most treacherous age, and so she didn’t try too hard with him. Initially she tagged along with our boys’ adventures or left us to it. You can’t imagine the relief when it became obvious how well Josh had taken to Helena. You’re right, it was normal and healthy. Even when she asked me to move in with her, it felt right. We talked about the pros and cons, and agreed how we would manage our relationship and seeing Josh. The things I worried about.’

  ‘Where were you living at the time?’

  ‘I’d been staying with Gary as a lodger and it was great. Two blokes in their thirties drinking, watching sport on the TV, and even shagging occasionally… not each other, you understand. Do you remember the series on TV, Men Behaving Badly? It was the same set-up. But, you can’t go on like that forever if you want to be taken seriously, and I had a decent career. Once the maintenance money was paid, I actually had enough left to think about buying somewhere, a small house of my own.’

  Konrad interrupted. ‘Just to check the facts here, Matthew, if I can. You were a marketing consultant for a well-known company who provide medical and surgical equipment for hospitals. Is that correct?’ He looked down to a clipboard lying on the desk to his left. ‘You had a company car, and earned around eighty grand a year with bonuses. That’s an exceptionally good income.’

  ‘Yes, it was, out of which I had to pay an extortionately high amount of maintenance to my ex-wife, despite the fact that “Pete the wanker” had moved in with Amy as soon as the divorce was settled. I’d paid off the mortgage, everything. Try it yourself some time, it’s like being robbed.’

  The challenge didn’t go unrecognised. ‘I don’t intend to find out.’

  Annette gave a snort as she turned. ‘What did you have to make a personal comment for? We’ll have to cut that. You know the rules.’

  No sooner were the words out of his mouth he knew he’d made a mistake in rising to the bait. Matthew had been testing him out and he’d failed to recognise the fact until it was too late. Subconsciously, Konrad looked down at his crotch as he thought about how he’d practically had to pay his own wife for the privilege of sex in recent years.

  As his popularity with the viewing public had waned, so had his wife’s interest in him. Unfortunately, without a bunch of expensive flowers, a dinner date, or jewellery as a bribe, she didn’t seem to find him enough of a turn-on to bother with.

  Mrs Delia Neale had expensive tastes, and therefore with the thought of the astronomical cost of legal proceedings, the public humiliation and negative impact on his future career, the idea of divorce had barely ever crossed Konrad’s mind. He’d had extramarital flings to fill the void, and he’d fallen in love with his last – until Delia had put a stop to that. But until he had started his series of interviews with Matthew Hawley, he hadn’t thought about whether he truthfully wanted to spend the rest of his life married to Delia, and pandering to her requirements.

  Every evening in the last three months, he had made a point of purchasing a gift for his wife to buy back her affections, even if his only reward was a soft touch, a kiss on the cheek or the occasional brief lacklustre coital encounter. He was so sexually frustrated he’d had to lower himself to these degradin
g bribery tactics.

  This was inescapable.

  It was Delia who had marketed them as a golden couple to keep their public profile alive, landing him advertising jobs, and voiceovers. Her PR efforts eventually served to resurrect his place in the affections of the public and the television producers. He owed it to his wife, and she knew it. Delia was also well aware that he’d had a wandering eye for years and that his most recent affair had threatened their business-like partnership. She put a stop to that, and thus, inevitably, the price paid for fame and celebrity was a private life so dreadfully dull that only desperation to hold onto his career remained as the sole impetus enabling him to return home at the end of the day.

  He was now wallowing in the realisation that his decision to patch up his marriage three months previously, to salvage his career, had been disastrous. He had behaved like a shallow, selfish bastard and he could barely look in the mirror each morning without being disgusted at the man he had become.

  4

  ‘If you were planning on buying your own house why did you agree to move in with Helena?’ Konrad asked Matthew, genuinely puzzled as to why that decision had been made.

  ‘I told you, it was impossible for me not to be with her. The thought of sex on tap was too much for my feeble mind to argue with. Besides which, Helena ran her office from home and it made sense for me to move in there, but for her own reasons she didn’t give me a set of keys until I had proved myself.’

  ‘Are you saying that you had to ring the doorbell to gain entry to the house? Had you forgotten to pay your bed and board money?’ He was sceptical, as was reflected in the tone of his question.

  Matthew held his gaze. ‘It was only for a matter of days. Actually, I’d set up a joint account with Helena and we used it to pay bills, so please don’t mistake me for a freeloader; I paid my way, Mr Neale, more than you’ll ever imagine. She dangled the house keys in the same way that she dangled her sexual enticements. There were to be long lines of “special challenges,” and rewards that Helena had in mind. The first was designed as a surprise. I was so excited, like a puppy, Mr Neale, and I couldn’t do enough for that woman. Believe me, she did everything for my benefit, short of wiping my arse. On the day, she outlined how I was to earn my own set of house keys; she sat me down and handed me a card, properly printed, about A5 size, and on it was a description of the surprise she had arranged for me: skydiving.’