The Camera Lies: a gripping psychological thriller

by AB Morgan

  Lorna went with Konrad in the ambulance accompanied by Officer Lyons, a quiet young police officer who had been sent to take any further details. He knew who Konrad was, and keen to ensure that the media was kept away from the hospital. Lyons made it his business to alert the ambulance staff to the requirement for absolute confidentiality and privacy. He watched in silence as Konrad spoke with Lorna during the short journey to the hospital.

  ‘Kon, do you think this is her? Tessa?’

  ‘I don’t know… Lorna, your lovely face is battered and covered in blood. Are you hurt anywhere else?’

  ‘I’m not sure, I hurt all over, but I’m more scared about not remembering anything and not waking up when they did this. How can that be possible, Kon? I think I must be going mad.’ Konrad held out his hand to give Lorna some reassurance as best he could, saying, ‘I’m as mad as you then, because for the life of me I can’t work out how this could’ve happened to us, and where did the night go?’

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Officer Lyons said quietly, ‘but who is Tessa?’

  After a short explanation from Lorna, Officer Lyons contacted DS Jenkins who had put the wheels in motion for a detailed investigation. She was still at the hotel and the room was secured as a crime scene. ‘There may be evidence on Mr Neale’s mobile phone and laptop.’

  Konrad began to feel very lightheaded and vague. The voices of Lorna and Officer Lyons faded away as he gave in to semi-consciousness.

  24

  Konrad awoke to the noise of gentle chatter in the distance and a trolley being wheeled across a floor. He was propped up at a gentle angle in a single bed, a hospital bed, and could only open his left eye. Automatically he put his hands up to feel his face and noticed the cannula puncturing the back of his hand, attached to a drip. Feeling around, he realised that most of his head was heavily bandaged. The excruciating pain of the day before had been replaced by an aching, throbbing pressure.

  ‘Dad?’ came a sweet voice from his right. He tried to turn his head enough to see Eliza, but this made him groan with pain, and realising her mistake, she moved to stand at the bottom of the bed. ‘Dad, can you hear me? Can you see me?’

  ‘Eliza. What are you doing here?’

  ‘That’s a bloody daft question for a man of your intelligence,’ she said, crying but at the same time looking relieved that he had managed to speak.

  ‘You got here quickly. How did they find you?’ He was aware that he sounded drunk and that he was decidedly groggy, however he thought his questions sounded reasonable enough. Eliza, however, didn’t seem to react in the way he would have expected her to. ‘I know I’m in hospital but I haven’t a clue what the time is. Did they catch the bastard?’ he asked.

  ‘Pardon?’ Eliza stared at her father in disbelief.

  ‘What have I said? What’s going on?’

  A nurse entered the side room where Konrad had been admitted after lengthy surgery. ‘Awake at last. Welcome back. I’m Sheila, one of the staff nurses,’ she said with a smile and an efficient assessment of her patient’s mood. ‘I expect you’re wondering where you are.’ Konrad gave a hesitant half-nod. He thought he was in hospital in Bangor where he had been taken by ambulance, but he was wrong.

  ‘Mr Neale, welcome to Manchester’s Royal Eye Hospital. You were brought here rather hastily yesterday morning. There are a number of things we need to tell you about, and the police have asked to speak to you as soon as you are able and conscious. I’ll contact them and also bleep Mr Wells. He’s your surgeon. He’ll talk you through what procedure has been carried out. I expect your daughter and your wife will fill in some of the blanks for you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Konrad replied, rather weakly. ‘I can’t quite believe I’m in Manchester… Where is Lorna?’ He had assumed the nurse was referring to Lorna and had believed her to be his wife.

  Sheila the nurse merely smiled and looked across at Eliza, raising both eyebrows before leaving her to explain.

  ‘Dad, Lorna’s been arrested.’

  ‘What do you mean, arrested? What for?’ Konrad tried unsuccessfully to sit up by rocking on his elbows.

  ‘For that.’ Eliza pointed at the bandage on her father’s head.

  ‘Come off it. That’s not remotely possible.’

  ‘She’s in custody and the police say they have evidence that indicates she did it. I’ll let them explain, I don’t know all the details. Mum’s here as well and she is the angriest I’ve ever seen her. You’d better protect your good eye because she’s likely to spit in it.’ As Eliza had just finished giving her father fair warning, Delia bustled in to the hospital side room. She was stiff with hatred.

  ‘You absolute bastard.’ The words came out of her thin lips like a series of bitter bullets. ‘I’m glad you’re alive, but only because I want to make you suffer like you never imagined possible. I’ve waited here to tell you in person. Now I can go home. The gloves are off, Kon, and you are on the fucking ropes. See you in court.’ Delia’s venomous tirade shocked Konrad into silence. He watched her storm out before looking to his daughter for an explanation.

  ‘I suppose she found out that I was with Lorna?’

  ‘And the rest…!’

  ‘The rest of what? Will somebody please tell me what’s been going on?’ he shouted in anger and was almost close to tears with frustration. Staff Nurse Sheila heard his cries and came rushing back in, asking Eliza to leave.

  ‘Mr Neale, you have had very delicate surgery and it’s important that you remain calm and still for several hours. Mr Wells is on his way and he’ll discuss everything with you. However, the police will best explain the other matters. They’re on their way from Bangor; a Detective Chief Inspector Anwell and a Detective Sergeant Jenkins will be here in the next hour or so. Please try to be patient. We know it’s difficult.’

  ‘Do you?’ Konrad was beside himself with annoyance at the true facts of his situation being hidden from him. ‘I have no idea what has happened to me, my soon-to-be-ex-wife vents her spleen at me for something, I know not what, and my girlfriend has apparently been arrested for assaulting me, when she can’t possibly have done it! Do you really have any fucking idea what this feels like?’

  Sheila took a deep breath. ‘You’re probably right. I don’t. But I do know that shouting at me won’t help. Now, are you up to having something to eat or drink?’

  He felt suitably ashamed for having taken his anger out on someone who was trying to help and he apologised profusely.

  Sheila gave a ready smile forgiving his outburst. ‘Apology accepted. I’ve witnessed much worse in my career, if I’m honest. I’ll see what I can rustle up for you in the way of a small snack. In the meantime, here’s Mr Wells.’

  Through the door strode a slim bespectacled surgeon who shook hands warmly as he made his formal introduction. He moved a chair to the left side of the bed and broke the news to Konrad that he no longer had use of his right eye. ‘In fact, we had to remove your eye altogether.’

  Konrad’s mind could not absorb the information. He stared past Mr Wells, trying to focus on the wall instead. The words spoken by the surgeon drifted by him, failing to register a meaning or a memory, barely lingering long enough to be heard.

  ‘It is something that many people find hard to come to terms with. I’ll give you some simple facts for now, and we can talk again later on when you’ve had time to let this news sink in.

  ‘Your eyelid has been stitched shut to protect the surgery thus far. What we have tried to do is salvage the muscles, and we hope the blood vessels will grow through the round implant and allow some eye movement eventually. This helps cosmetically and with the psychological hurdles of losing an eye.’ Mr Wells used his hands to demonstrate the descriptions he was giving.

  ‘On top of the implant we have placed a conformer, it’s an almond-shaped plastic material, which sits underneath your eyelid, and once your ocular prosthesis is ready, the conformer can be removed. Mr Neale, do you have any questions at this stage? Mr
Neale?’

  He turned his head in the direction of the voice. He couldn’t focus. A dark and ominous feeling had overwhelmed him, making it impossible to stay in the present moment. He stared with one eye at the surgeon, not acknowledging him. Konrad’s face was a blank.

  The doctor stood and left without saying anything more. Instead he raised his concerns about Konrad’s mental state with Sheila, who was returning with a jug of water and a small plate of sandwiches.

  She took them away again, untouched half an hour later, when the police arrived. The door to the side room was open and he could hear Sheila talking.

  ‘I’m not sure you’ll be able to question him thoroughly; he’s quite shocked at the loss of his eye. He’s only just been told. Do you have to question him now?’

  ‘I see. How much else has he been told about what happened to him?’ asked a mellow male voice.

  ‘I’m not sure. You could ask his daughter. She went out for a while to try to pacify her mother. That wife of his was like a thing possessed and most unpleasant.’

  ‘Yes, I believe DS Jenkins had the pleasure of her company on Sunday and wasn’t too enamoured either. Can you make sure we’re not interrupted, especially by Mrs Neale if she reappears, and please continue to avoid anyone talking to the press; they’ve caused us huge problems.’

  Konrad’s heart lurched in his chest when he heard that comment about the press. It would explain Delia’s reaction.

  DCI Gethin Anwell and DS Ffion Jenkins walked respectfully but confidently into the hospital room introducing themselves before taking seats either side of the bed. DS Jenkins was obscured from Konrad’s view, which he was obliged to point out.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise,’ she said as she moved her chair to the bottom end of the bed, allowing Konrad to see her properly.

  ‘Yes, I remember meeting you now. I was in a lot of pain so I didn’t register your name.’ He was desperate to understand the full picture and was bursting with a dire need. ‘Look, can we cut the niceties. How about you tell me why you’ve arrested Lorna.’

  DCI Anwell sat, bent legs akimbo, resting his elbows on his knees and chin on his hands. This helped to bring his eyes level with Konrad’s face. He was a tall athletic-looking man with a slim nose and intense eyes. ‘Hmmm. Mr Neale, in police terms this is relatively straightforward. The knife we found on scene covered in your blood had her fingerprints on it. There was no sign of anyone else involved in the actual physical assaults, although Miss Yates appears to have had an accomplice who filmed the whole event. We have a copy of that film and we therefore saw Miss Yates carry out a number of assaults, during and after you and she had indulged in sexual activity. Can you tell us about what happened that night?’

  There was a significant pause while Konrad tried desperately to gain some semblance of composure. He looked from one detective to the other, searching for clues. Each time he did so his head throbbed. ‘I… This isn’t right. I can’t remember anything about having sex with Lorna. She didn’t. We didn’t. I remember kissing her in the car park earlier, then later, about half an hour or so later, she knocked at my hotel room door saying that reception had called her and that I had asked to see her urgently. I never made any call to reception. I let her in. Then something happened.’

  ‘Can you tell us what that was, Mr Neale. It’s really important.’

  He closed his one good eye, and tried to bring to mind what he had seen as Lorna came into his hotel room. ‘I pulled Lorna out of the way. There was someone trying to get into my room behind her. There was a foot in the door and I pulled or pushed Lorna backwards and yanked the door towards me. A small bloke, I think, in dark clothes was there and I grabbed at him. I said something to him, but that’s where it stops. I can’t remember anything until I came to; lying on the bed the wrong way up and Lorna was holding a towel to my head and was on the phone getting help. She was in a terrible state. That’s it.’

  DCI Anwell looked at his sergeant. ‘DS Jenkins recorded what you told us at the time about the events that night and what she wrote corresponds very closely with what you’ve just said. We also picked up on what you and Lorna said about there being a stalker involved recently. We have your phone and we are following up on this important line of enquiry. You see, Mr Neale, we don’t think Lorna did this deliberately. She did assault you and that’s why we’ve charged her with GBH.’

  Konrad gasped.

  ‘However,’ continued the inspector, ‘we are carrying out an in-depth investigation into the possibility that neither you nor Miss Yates were in full control of your own free will at the time of the assaults.’ DCI Anwell stopped talking and made eye contact with DS Jenkins who sat silently watching reactions. Konrad was crying. Huge sobs wracked his body as he lay on the hospital bed.

  It was several minutes before the inspector could carry on with his explanation. ‘Mr Neale, we can’t release Lorna Yates because of the nature of the assault and the evidence which suggests that she carried out the crime. However, we have made one of the finest forensic searches of a crime scene I have had the privilege of being a part of. The film that was delivered on a USB stick to the press is being minutely examined also.’

  ‘The press. Good God.’ Konrad teetered on the edge of the pit of despair.

  ‘I’m afraid so. They have been warned they may face prosecution and will probably incur fines and internal inquiries. Rather predictably the gutter press ran with the story and the headlines this morning have been messy I’m afraid, to the extent that we have an officer here in the hospital to ensure that reporters are kept well away.’

  ‘Tessa Carlton.’

  ‘Your stalker? We’re following what leads we can. I’ll keep you updated. What we did find at the scene was evidence of a mind-altering drug on the wall inside the door to your room, your towelling robe and some on Miss Yates clothes that she was wearing when she arrived in your room. We also have CCTV footage of someone following behind Miss Yates as she heads towards your room in the hotel. We thought at first they were acting together, and that this person was the accomplice who filmed the attacks. However, you and Miss Yates tell similar versions of events and each of you describe memory loss. Secondly, there were no defensive wounds to be found on you, but the main error that the person in question made was that they filmed themselves by accident in the mirror on the back of the door. This person appeared to be conducting proceedings. We are sure it’s a female wearing a cap and dark clothing. No fingerprints were found, but we are on to something. Mr Neale, please be assured that we will follow this through. Try to rest.’

  ‘Can I see Lorna?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. We’ll talk again before you’re transferred back to Bangor unless you prefer to go to a hospital nearer home.’

  ‘No. I have to stay here. We have to find Tessa Carlton, but listen, please keep it quiet that you’re looking for her. If she finds out, she’ll want us both dead. Me and Lorna. She has to believe she’s succeeded.’

  ‘Is she really that desperate?’ DCI Anwell didn’t need a reply. The tears in Konrad’s remaining eye and the expression on his face told the whole story. The two detectives stood up as if to leave.

  ‘I need to see the film,’ Konrad said in a monotone voice.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘I do. Can you make arrangements for me to see a copy, please? I may be able to help. It’s what I do for a living. Did for a living.’

  ‘We’ll be back when you’re feeling better. We need to discuss Tessa Carlton. Everything you know.’

  After they left, Konrad stared into nothing. His life had been flushed down a huge toilet and he was at a loss about how to react. Reaching out to the tray table that hovered above his neatly made bed, he found the TV remote control. He turned on the news for a distraction, and when he saw himself in the headlines he increased the volume and lay back to listen. Resting his good eye alleviated the pain from the surgery to his right eye. His eyes wanted to work in u
nison, so to rest one, he had to rest both.

  Fuck and double fuck with some added bastards and bloody hells. What am I going to do?

  25

  The early evening news was rammed full of information about his private life. Most of it was accurate.

  “Konrad Neale recently announced divorce from his wife, Delia. They had been married for twenty-two years during which time Konrad became a household name in television and radio. When his career waned, Delia was his rock. She battled to help his reinvention and was by his side at recent awards ceremonies and events marking the success of his documentary series “The Truth Behind the Lies”.

  “A rather ironic title, as it now appears there were several lies hiding the truth behind the marriage of Delia and Konrad Neale.

  “The woman charged with grievous bodily harm, the woman who viciously attacked Konrad Neale in his hotel room in North Wales in the early hours of Sunday morning, was his ex-mistress Lorna Yates who works for the BBC.

  “She had been scorned by Konrad Neale nearly four months ago and now it seems she has sought revenge in the cruellest of ways. He lies disfigured and in pain in hospital and she has been arrested and charged.

  “In a bitter twist, she filmed the whole event and an unedited version was sent to the Daily Herald national newspaper who have since been requested to hand over this film to the police as evidence. Our sources say the footage contains scenes of sexual depravity and sadomasochistic activities. It seems that sex was the bait laid by Miss Yates and falling into the honey trap, Konrad Neale was treated to much more than a night of erotic extremes. His readiness to submit to such activities will surely blight, if not destroy, Konrad Neale’s future career, and his handsome silver fox good looks have been permanently damaged by a vengeful woman who preyed on his weakness for sex.