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The Camera Lies: a gripping psychological thriller

Page 18

by AB Morgan


  ‘How long will it be before I can have my new eye?’ Konrad asked continuing to stare in the mirror.

  ‘That depends. Five to six weeks.’

  ‘Can I have an eye patch?’

  Eliza laughed at her father. She knew he wanted to be a pirate. She also had one last question. ‘Why are surgeons in this country always referred to as mister and not doctor?’

  After Mr Wells had left, Eliza produced a bag full of letters and cards that had been sent to Channel 7, and between them they waded through each, reading out the names of well-wishers. Some they knew, others from strangers.

  ‘Look at this outrageous giant,’ Eliza exclaimed. ‘How is it possible to fit so much glitter and pink feathers onto a get-well card?’ She showed Konrad the biggest card he’d ever seen.

  ‘Let me guess,’ he said, allowing Eliza to open it up. ‘It’s from George and Lillian.’

  ‘Right first time.’

  ‘If you’d ever met George you’d understand how easy that was.’

  ‘I feel I’ve missed out. He was so bloody funny when the press interviewed him. I think he could be on the next reality TV series. Whatever that is. Probably, “First Gay Naked Love Island Dates” or something.’

  Eliza opened another card. ‘This is a posh one. It’s from Josh Hawley, Naomi Woods and all at HRS.’

  ‘Shit. Can I see that one, Eliza? Bugger. I had a meeting with Josh Hawley lined up for last Monday. I’d forgotten all about it.’

  ‘Dad, calm down. He knows why you weren’t there to meet with him, obviously. Whatever it is will wait.’

  Will it wait? ‘Yes. I’ll phone him later when you’ve gone. We can cover some of the interview questions without having to meet up.’ The unexpected contact from Josh had diverted Konrad. He found his thoughts returning to Matthew Hawley languishing in prison trying to find ways to help his son to understand a vital fact that could not be proven. A slight change of tone in Eliza’s voice redirected his attention.

  ‘This one’s a business letter from a private psychiatrist.’ Eliza handed over the letter she had pulled from a long white envelope.

  ‘Probably touting for business… Let’s have a little look before I chuck it in the bin.’ There was a momentary silence before he came to a conclusion. ‘No, this one couldn’t be more important.’ Konrad’s voice faded away as he started to read on. ‘Shit. Sorry, Eliza, this won’t wait. Can you see if you can get in touch with DCI Anwell and find out what time he’s coming today?’

  The phone in the room rang loudly enough to startle him. Eliza answered it, moving the phone nearer to where her father now sat in his chair. ‘Spooky. It’s DCI Anwell. Do you want to speak to him now?’

  ‘Yes, definitely.’

  Eliza handed over the hospital phone. ‘I’ll leave you to it then. I could do with a break.’

  Konrad whispered his thanks to his thoughtful daughter, spoke to the DCI briefly, and then sat back to read, in full, the contents of the letter from a child and adolescent psychiatrist by the name of Sarah Tyrell, based in Suffolk.

  Konrad had an overwhelming need to share this with Annette, so he called her.

  ‘Kon, how are you doing?’

  ‘All right for a Cyclops. They let me get up today and the big bandage is off. I look like Frankenstein’s monster, so…’ He didn’t have the words to explain himself.

  ‘You sound better. What can I do for you? I know you didn’t phone for a polite chat.’ Annette had the measure of Konrad as usual. With the letter propped up against a water jug, at the optimum distance for accurate reading, he enlightened his friend.

  ‘The first paragraph is just an introduction, who she is, where she works and how she found out we were looking for information on Tessa Carlton and Helena Chawston. She then apologises for the delay in writing to us. She had wrestled with her conscience about confidentiality but decided that there may be a risk to the public by not disclosing information. From what she says, it seems she went to the local police some time ago about her fears regarding Tessa Carlton but they dismissed her as being over-anxious. In short, she has taken a professional risk by sending us the following. Now listen to this. It’ll blow your socks off.’

  ‘That’s nice. I have a hell of a job getting them off myself these days.’ Annette seemed cheered to hear Konrad being so enthusiastic about life again.

  ‘Funny woman… Now be serious for a minute and listen because if we can prove that Tessa did this to me and Lorna, we can get the case dropped.

  ‘This doctor had Tessa under her care in an adolescent unit where she underwent intensive psychotherapy, caused havoc with the other patients, and eventually absconded with another girl. She was never found.

  ‘Now then, do you remember that when she was about fifteen, Tessa was assaulted and badly injured? According to this letter that was entirely wrong. The hospital found out that she had not been physically assaulted by anyone else. She had done it to herself and although she tried to blame her elder sister, she eventually changed her story and said she heard voices telling her to cut herself.’ He was gabbling.

  ‘Kon, you have to speak slower. I know you’re wound up about this but I can barely grasp what you’re saying. Slow down.’

  ‘There’s so much here. Sorry. It seems that Helena, who was an adult by then remember, had wanted to meet with her sister to confront her. It’s a lot more complicated than that, but in a nutshell, Tessa’s revenge was to blame Helena again for something terrible. The self-inflicted injuries, for which Helena was accused, were not as dramatic as they first appeared to be from local authority reports. However, Tessa had cut her own breasts and labia.

  ‘Do you see? It wasn’t Helena that attacked her. The assumption we made is wrong.’

  Annette was quiet at the other end of the phone.

  ‘Annette? Did you hear what I said?’

  ‘Yes, Kon. Give me a minute, I’m in front of my laptop and I’m trying to find that letter from Mrs What’s-’er-face. The mother of the girl Tessa was at school with, and the stuff Joe and Mike unearthed from Health and Social Services. Right, I’m with you now.’

  ‘I really want to scan this and send it to you, but I’m stuck in here.’

  ‘Will the hospital fax it for you?’

  ‘They probably would but I don’t want anyone else to see this apart from us and the police. What else can I do?’

  ‘Can you take a photo with Eliza’s mobile phone?’

  ‘Funny and what’s more a bloody genius. That’s what you are. My close-range focus is a bit iffy, but I’ll ask Eliza when she gets back, she’s gone for a break.’

  ‘Bless her. I expect she needs one. In the meantime, give me the general gist.’

  Konrad took a steadying breath. ‘This psychiatrist is saying that Helena was blamed all along by Tessa for things that Tessa actually did of her own volition. She killed the school goldfish, she hurt other children, she injured herself and made sure Helena was either blamed or under suspicion. Their parents, Mr and Mrs Carlton, were at a loss and thought they were protecting Tessa by sending her to her grandparents to live. They emotionally distanced themselves from Helena, viewing her as the reason their family had been torn apart. In fact, quite unwittingly, they helped to protect Helena for a few years. Now here is something that none of us knew before. Are you ready for this?’

  ‘Yes. Get on with it.’

  ‘Helena and Tessa had a younger brother.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Yes, way. It says it right here. Dr Sarah Tyrell was asked to assess the whole family. The reason Helena stayed with her parents is argued in depth during the child protection meetings that were held. As we know, the involvement from social services had been slow, but had eventually resulted in the two girls being split up. The younger child, a boy referred to as Dickie, was ten years younger than Helena, and the two of them remained at the home of their parents under child protection review for a year or so. No problems reported. However, when Helena left to go
to university there was a re-referral to social services for Dickie under the category of emotional neglect. He was put into care.’

  ‘So how old was Tessa when Dickie was born?’

  ‘She would have been four. She wasn’t sent to live with the grandparents until she was… eight. Blimey, that was four years after Dickie was born. God, this is amazing stuff. Listen to the next bit…

  ‘Helena was eighteen when she went to university and little Dickie would have been ten. Tessa would have been fourteen and still living with her grandparents, just about. Dr Tyrell was asked to be involved in reassessment of the family regarding whether it was safe for Tessa to return to the parental home.’

  ‘What? Just because Helena had left?’

  ‘That’s not made clear, but it seems to be the case. What we didn’t know was that Tessa did return home and lived there until the time of her assault, which she blamed Helena for. This is where the facts have got muddled. In the time Tessa returned home and Helena left, Dickie seems to have suffered at the hands of Tessa and the parents failed to act, yet again.

  ‘According to this letter, Helena visited the family home with her grandparents during a holiday from uni because she was worried about her brother.

  ‘It was during this visit that Tessa cut herself. There was a vicious argument between the parents, the grandparents, Helena and Tessa, and it was Helena who reported concerns to Social Services about Dickie, which compounded recent reports from Dickie’s school.’ Konrad was silent, waiting for Annette’s response, which took some time to arrive.

  ‘This is a tragic story. What were those social workers thinking?’

  ‘We don’t have any information on their perspective; just what was known by this doctor. She says that by the age of fifteen, Tessa could have been assessed as being a high functioning psychopath. What Dr Tyrell is saying here is that Tessa was so manipulative and intelligent that as an adult she would be considered dangerous, and have the capacity for serious harm to others and especially to Helena.’

  ‘Blimey, Kon. That’s why Helena changed her name, disowned her parents, and had a massive fear of rejection and loss.’

  ‘Exactly, my genius friend. All the police have to do is find Tessa and prove that she is at the bottom of this. Can you look again at the documentary transcript and see if Matthew Hawley alludes to this in any way.

  ‘Annette, one last favour. Ask Mike and Joe to find out what happened to Dickie Carlton, please?’

  Feeling that progress was about to be made, he rewarded himself with a cold drink before he picked up the phone again. His throat had dried with the anticipation of his next conversation and his adrenalin levels peaked as the call was answered.

  ‘Josh Hawley. Who’s speaking?’

  ‘Hello Josh, this is Konrad Neale. I’m phoning to thank you for your card and to apologise for missing our appointment on Monday. Sorry you were inconvenienced and out of pocket.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise. Not in the least. You’re on the mend then?’

  ‘Only just, but I’m better than I was.’ Konrad drew breath and took an enormous gamble. ‘Josh, I want to help your dad and I think what happened to me may be connected with him.’

  There was such a long pause that Konrad started to doubt that the call was still live. He listened intently, picking up on Josh Hawley’s breathing.

  Don’t hang up. Please don’t hang up.

  ‘How can that be? Is the woman who attacked you connected with my father?’ Josh asked.

  ‘No, she isn’t, but it’s possible that Helena’s sister is involved in the attack on me.’

  ‘Look, Mr Neale, no offence but this was raised in the court case. It’s all rubbish. You can’t keep dragging up the same debates about my father. He killed Helena, full stop.’ The voice coming through the phone handset was angry.

  Konrad tried his best to remain composed and factual. ‘Yes, he did. He isn’t denying that. But he still says he can’t recall any of it. Nothing. I can’t remember anything of what happened last weekend either and I’ve been stalked and threatened by a woman believed to be Helena’s sister Tessa. That person filmed the whole attack on me.’

  ‘Are you saying you believe my father?’

  ‘Yes. Without a doubt. I’m living the same nightmare.’

  There was a long pause again before Josh spoke. ‘How can I help?’

  31

  Gethin Anwell was alone when he arrived at the hospital ward after lunch. In his mind, Konrad believed that all detective chief inspectors were battle-weary individuals in scruffy overcoats who barely slept, thus rendering them fatigued and craggy. DCI Anwell was the antithesis of this imaginary DCI. He was an athletic man with determination and enthusiasm for the job in hand, which Konrad admired. Indeed, they seemed to have developed an unspoken mutual regard to the degree that Konrad perceived a certain procedural leeway in his favour.

  ‘Good to see you’re up and about, Mr Neale.’ Relief was evident in Gethin Anwell’s voice as the two men shook hands. ‘I thought we’d sent you off to the local asylum last time we met.’

  ‘I’ve no idea where I went, I don’t really remember, which of course has left me in the dark again about what happened to me. It’s an awful feeling knowing that other people have seen a part of your life that you have no memory of. On your own today?’

  DCI Anwell moved a chair to sit opposite; the adjustable table remained between them. ‘No, DS Jenkins is having a chat with Eliza. We saw her in the car park. She’ll be here soon with coffee if we’re lucky.

  ‘About your reaction to the film evidence, I’ve been told not to take you down that road again, so perhaps we’d better park the idea for now, but I do need your help as part of the investigation to try to identify the intruder.

  ‘The nurses thought it would be better if I could show you a still photograph of the alleged perpetrator in your room on Saturday night. The person behind the camera. One shot that’s all. Do you think that would be manageable?’

  Konrad didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes. Let’s do it. Before that, I have something for you. A letter.’ He handed over the correspondence from Dr Sarah Tyrell the psychiatrist.

  ‘Right, you look at the photo, I’ll read the letter.’

  Konrad stared at the picture in his hands.

  A dark blue baseball cap, a camera to your face. Wisps of hair against your pale skin. A neat nose. Female. Mouth open. A slight figure in a polo shirt and jeans. Hips. Tessa. Depraved, deviant and debased. You stood there filming me and Lorna having sex. You saw it and I can’t even remember it.

  ‘Any thoughts?’ DCI Anwell looked up from the pages he was holding.

  ‘Several, but I wouldn’t care to say them aloud. I don’t recognise her. I want to, and I wish to God I could say it was Chloe, but I can’t.’ Frustration made his words more clipped than he intended.

  ‘Okay, not to worry. Here’s something else for you to look at.’ Konrad was shown a still photo from CCTV of the reception area at The Management Centre.

  ‘That’s Chloe.’

  ‘Good. You said you thought Tessa had blue eyes, so we took this shot of Chloe and our clever techies have produced this.’ Konrad looked at another picture of Chloe but with blue eyes.

  ‘Right. How does this help?’

  ‘Have you seen anyone who looks like that following you recently?’ DCI Anwell asked. Konrad shook his head. He was not keeping pace with the detective’s thinking. ‘Maybe with different coloured hair, or clothing?’ Anwell asked.

  ‘I don’t think so, no.’

  ‘It was worth a shot. Maybe these will help. The team have produced a number of pictures, with alternative hairstyles; clothing and the like. When you have time between visitors, just have a look through. You never know what might nudge your memory.’

  ‘Can we do it now?’ Konrad asked, extending his arm and holding out a hand for the next picture. DCI Anwell handed him four more to look at and sat back patiently while Konrad took his time perusi
ng each one.

  As he reached the third in the series, a quizzical expression crossed Konrad’s face. He lent forward, placed the photo down carefully and used another to cover up the lower part of the picture. ‘This rings a bell,’ he said staring at the detective. ‘If it’s who I think it reminds me of, then it would be an alarm bell.’ His voice faltered. ‘Maybe I’m clutching at straws but...’

  ‘Say what you think.’

  ‘I think it reminds me of Naomi Woods. The problem is I’ve never met Naomi, I’ve spoken to her on the phone, but this reminds me of the pictures I’ve seen of her.’

  ‘And she is…’ Anwell said, pen poised to take accurate notes.

  ‘Naomi Woods is the partner and business partner of Josh Hawley. Josh is…’

  ‘Matthew Hawley’s son.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Konrad looked again at the photo-fit picture as Gethin reached for his mobile phone to call headquarters. ‘I need anything we have on a Naomi Woods, company director of Hawley Recruitment Solutions. Anything. See if she can be linked into Chloe Jordan. It’s highly likely they are one and the same person.’

  He stared again at the images in front of him. ‘Shit. It could be.’

  ‘This might mean that she’s been hiding in plain sight. Tessa Carlton has played the long game. What a clever woman. Now we need to tie her in to the scene of the incident, texts to you, Chloe Jordan…’

  ‘The letters to Matthew Hawley,’ Konrad added. ‘And Helena’s death.’

  The two men stared at each other trying to grasp the convolutions of the task ahead. Coffee arrived in the hands of a smiling DS Ffion Jenkins. ‘Eliza’s going off to do some retail therapy. She seems brighter, and so do you, Mr Neale. It’s lovely to see you sitting up.’

 

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