The Camera Lies

by AB Morgan

  Konrad had been advised by the witness support officer to address the judge and the members of the jury when answering questions from the stand. He didn’t need reminding. The judge sat to his immediate right necessitating a forty-five degree turn in order to see the elderly man in glasses who would be guiding the jury and managing the trial.

  Rupert Van Dahl commenced the case for the prosecution with a simple line of questioning. ‘Mr Neale, could you tell the court, in your own words, what you recall of the evening of Saturday the thirteenth of May 2017. Your statement indicates that you had spent the day with your ex-girlfriend, the accused Lorna Yates, in an effort to patch up your relationship, which you had ended some four months previously. Is that correct?’ Konrad was prepared for this.

  ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  ‘Would you mind telling the court how you met Lorna Yates?’

  ‘We met through work. Lorna started as a researcher with Channel 7 a few months before I began on the first series of “The Truth Behind the Lies”. She carried out much of the background information gathering for each of the documentaries and we met shortly before the filming of the first case in March 2016.’

  ‘Did your wife know about your affair at that time?’

  ‘No, she didn’t.’

  ‘You state that you fell in love with Lorna Yates during the time you were having an affair, so please can you explain to the members of the jury why you decided to end your relationship in February this year.’

  Konrad had also been expecting this particular line of questioning. Even so, he found that his well-rehearsed lines had escaped his memory and he stumbled through the explanation. ‘I was under considerable pressure from my wife. She had found out about Lorna. The TV series was a spectacular success, you see, and Delia, my wife, is also my business manager. She was furious that I had jeopardised our financial future and undermined the trust of the viewing public. I was weak. I should have followed my heart instead of worrying about my reputation.’ He scanned the faces of the jury and saw only minor changes in the facial expressions of two women. The rest remained resolutely deadpan. Rupert had warned him not to try for any sympathy and now Konrad knew why.

  ‘Realising your error, you pursued Lorna Yates, desperate to reignite your relationship. Isn’t that so?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Did anyone encourage you to do this?’

  ‘My colleague, Annette, gave me the confidence to at least try.’

  ‘She informed you of where Lorna Yates had moved for work, and as you say in your statement, that happened to be Bangor, the very city where your children attended university. Did that ever strike you as more than a coincidence, Mr Neale?’

  ‘No,’ came a slightly hesitant response.

  ‘What do you know about Lorna Yates’ private life, and her history before she met you?’

  ‘Well, as far as I am aware, her parents were originally from Cardiff and although she grew up in Herefordshire she always calls herself Welsh. She’s an only child, good education. Went to university to study English literature, but I can’t recall where. Her CV said she had worked in customer services and public relations in London before landing her job with Channel 7. I once met one of her previous partners, a chap called Daryl, who she lived with in Camden for several years. Apart from that we socialised in the same group. Her friends at work were my friends too. They still are.’

  ‘I see. What can you tell us about Lorna’s mental health? Has there ever been any indication of a vengeful nature in her behaviour towards others?’

  ‘No. I don’t know anything about that. She’s always been sensible, balanced and caring, from my experience.’ Konrad shifted his weight from one foot to another. He shot a puzzled look at Rupert Van Dahl.

  ‘Take us back to the time of the assault, after dinner on Saturday the thirteenth of May this year, if you will. You and Lorna had a meal together in the restaurant at The Management Centre in Bangor, and after walking Lorna Yates back to her car, what did you see?’

  Konrad produced the well-rehearsed chronology of events leading up to the moment that Lorna knocked on his hotel door that night.

  ‘And that is the last thing you remember, Mr Neale? You pulled at Lorna Yates to get her out of harm’s way and grabbed at the person wearing dark clothing who was forcing their way in through the door.’

  ‘Yes. I have no recall of anything until the next morning.’

  ‘When did you realise that it was Lorna Yates who had inflicted life changing injuries on your face, which resulted in the loss of your right eye?’

  ‘I didn’t ever realise. I was told that the attack on me had been filmed and that this showed Lorna deliberately cutting me with a knife.’

  ‘My Lord, the film of this attack is central evidence, and my client is aware that the jury have seen this recording in private because of its disturbing nature. However, for the purposes of the public hearing, still photographs have been produced to demonstrate the specific act of harm undertaken by the defendant Lorna Yates and which, as evidence will prove, was filmed by Naomi Woods as a conspiracy of revenge against Mr Konrad Neale, the victim in this case.’

  The usher ensured that each member of the jury had sight of the photographic evidence. ‘Mr Neale, in the photograph labelled exhibit A1, can you confirm for the court who the two people are in that photograph.’

  Konrad inhaled deeply to help steady his shaking hands as he held the photo in front of his left eye. ‘That’s me lying on the bed and Lorna is holding the knife.’

  ‘For the record, Lorna Yates is holding a knife with two hands, cutting into your forehead as she kneels over you, lying on a hotel bed. Do you recall this happening at the time?’

  ‘No.’ Konrad shook his head, and looked to the judge. ‘I can’t remember this happening to me.’ A small quaver in his voice prompted a comment from the judge.

  ‘We appreciate how difficult this is, Mr Neale, but if you would, please continue to answer the questions as they are put to you.’

  How could Lorna have done that?

  The jury and Konrad were asked to examine three further photographs including one taken by the police of Konrad’s injuries once he reached A & E on the Sunday morning.

  ‘In the preceding weeks, you had received a number of threatening texts, Mr Neale. Can you tell the jury more about these, and who you thought these were from?’

  ‘The first text arrived at about the same time that I tried to get back in touch with Lorna.’

  ‘On the same day in fact. April ninth.’

  ‘Yes. I believe it was. At first, I didn’t know who it was from, but they must have been in the park watching me. After the first one or two, I also received a typed letter, unsigned. I thought then that the texts and letter were from Tessa Carlton.’

  ‘If it pleases the court,’ Rupert Van Dahl addressed the judge. ‘It may be of help for me to put this reference into context. Tessa Carlton is the sister of Helena Chawston-Hawley who was murdered by her husband, Matthew Hawley, the subject of Mr Neale’s documentary at the time this offence took place. It was presumed by my client that Tessa Carlton had written instructing him to desist from seeking to interview her. Whoever wrote the letter expressed a wish to remain out of the public eye. Is that correct, Mr Neale?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Mr Neale, during the course of the police investigation you helped to identify the second accused, Naomi Woods, as the person behind the camera filming your assault at the hands of Lorna Yates. Is that also correct?’

  ‘Yes. That’s correct.’

  ‘Is it not also the case that you believed Naomi Woods to be Tessa Carlton.’

  ‘Objection!’ The defence barrister for Naomi Woods, a formidable looking woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Delia, jumped up from her seat. ‘Leading question and irrelevant.’

  Rupert addressed the bench. ‘My Lord, I’m merely seeking to establish my client’s knowledge of the identities of the accused.’
/>   ‘You may continue, but make your reference clear.’

  ‘Thank you, My Lord. Mr Neale, did you know that Lorna Yates does not have Welsh parents, and that she did not grow up in Herefordshire?’

  ‘No.’ Konrad stared hard into Rupert Van Dahl’s eyes then beyond him, he focussed on Lorna’s impassive face.

  ‘No further questions at this time, My Lord.’ Rupert Van Dahl took his seat.

  What the fuck’s going on? Rupert warned me to expect the unexpected but why did they keep this from me?

  ‘Your witness, Mrs Steele.’

  37

  Konrad swallowed hard as he faced the sharp-featured woman in gown and wig about to begin her cross-examination and a theatrical presentation of her argument. ‘Thank you, My Lord. Mr Neale, my learned friend, Mr Van Dahl, would have us believe that you are a stable individual of sound mind and an upstanding pillar of society. I suggest that you are in fact unreliable as a witness in this case.

  ‘Tell me, apart from your appalling memory of events at the hotel on the night of the thirteenth and into the early hours of the fourteenth of May this year, you also lost touch with reality a few weeks later whilst undergoing treatment at the Royal Manchester Eye Hospital. You were cared for and given medication by a psychiatrist for an adjustment reaction. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What can you remember about that?’

  ‘Nothing. I blacked out. I was watching the filmed evidence of my assault when I… when I… lost it.’ He couldn’t think what to say. In fact, he could barely concentrate on the words being spoken. He wanted to sit in the corner of the witness box and hug his knees to regain control over his racing thoughts.

  ‘You say you “lost it”. I see. When you took your discharge against medical advice, your eye surgeon states he had concerns about your mental state. That, we know to be true. Tell the court, have you attended the psychology appointments set up for you to help deal with your traumas?’

  ‘I went to one.’

  ‘I do hope that was of some help. Perhaps you didn’t really require further psychological treatment if you only went to one appointment.’ Mrs Steele’s sarcasm was not lost on Konrad or on Rupert Van Dahl who objected. With a sickly grimace, Mrs Steele apologised and continued.

  ‘Mr Neale, my learned friend suggested in his presentation to the court that you and Lorna Yates met last year and fell in love. I put it to you that you lied. You and Lorna Yates go back a lot further than that and indeed you first met her in 2010, seven years ago, Mr Neale.’

  ‘No.’ Konrad arched backwards and a deep frown appeared on his face. ‘I have no recollection of meeting Lorna before she came to Channel 7.’

  ‘Surely you must remember… No? Let me help your unreliable memory. You were a regular client at a club called La Maison in London, conveniently sited a short distance from the studios where Saturday Night Live took place. You hosted that particular show for five years, Mr Neale, and during that time you were a frequent visitor to La Maison, so much so that if there had been a La Maison loyalty card you would have reaped many benefits, I’m sure.’

  A gentle ripple of amused interest was heard from those in the courtroom during which Konrad caught an exchange of looks between Naomi Woods and Lorna, but he couldn’t read what was meant. Feeling a hollow coldness in his legs, as if the strength in his muscles was ebbing away, he was forced to lean against the front of the witness stand, gripping the smooth pale wood under each hand as Mrs Steele continued her rapier-like approach to undermining the prosecution’s case.

  ‘Your membership fee included “the personal services of an escort with additional costs incurred for individual choice from a menu of sexual pleasures”. That’s what it says right here in the membership information.’ Mrs Steele waved a leaflet in the air. ‘According to the membership information and invoices, your preference was for young flexible white females who specialised in oral sex. Is that right, Mr Neale? You paid for sex on a regular basis?’

  Konrad saw his barrister turn to the prosecution team sitting immediately behind him to whisper questions and stab his forefinger at the papers in front of them. Infuriation was written on Rupert Van Dahl’s face as he looked back up at the witness box.

  That was years ago. Three of us went after the show on a Saturday night. Fame and fortune, sex and drink. It was normal back then.

  ‘Mr Neale, please answer the question.’

  ‘I did go there, yes, but I don’t recall meeting Lorna.’

  ‘You should remember, you went there week in and week out over a period of several years. I put it to you, Mr Neale, that when you met Lorna again you knew exactly who she was and used her past to force her into providing sexual services to you personally. I also put it to you that it was she, not you, that ended the relationship and she tried to break away from your charmless blackmail by securing another job, far away. You said just now that you pursued her, not the other way around. Was that a lie?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t a lie. I did go after her. But I swear I had no idea she had worked as an escort. That was years ago. She can’t have been one of the girls. It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Do you deny that you were a member at a club called La Maison?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you deny that you made use of the escort girls at La Maison?’

  ‘No. I don’t deny any of that. But I didn’t know Lorna used to work there. I swear.’

  Mrs Steele, the lead counsel for Naomi Woods’ defence, paused as she arranged the papers on the desk in front of her.

  ‘Mr Neale, can I ask you to confirm whether you have ever met the other defendant, Naomi Woods, in person before today.’

  ‘I’ve met her before, but she said her name was Chloe Jordan. She was my son’s girlfriend.’

  ‘That’s what you believe to be the truth?’

  ‘Yes. I thought she was, at the time.’

  ‘Did you ever meet my client Naomi Woods at La Maison?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Neale. I would like to ask the jury to look again at the still photographs taken from the digital video film that the prosecution have presented as evidence in this case. My Lord, two of the photos presented to the court show Mr Neale preparing to strike and physically assault my learned friend’s client whilst in a state of sexual arousal. There were a number of these assaults, which were viewed by My Lord and by the jury, during which Lorna Yates can be seen reeling from the force of the blows. Mr Neale, can you deny you assaulted my client?’

  ‘No, of course I can’t.’

  ‘Objection! My Lord, my client has already made it abundantly clear that he has no recall of any of the events that took place in the hotel room that evening.’

  ‘Sustained. Mrs Steele, please rephrase your question.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord. Mr Neale, is this you in these photographs?’

  Konrad stared, transfixed by the scene on the photo. Perplexed.

  The judge coughed. ‘Mr Neale, you must answer the question.’

  ‘What was the question?’

  ‘Is that you in the photographs?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Neale. No further questions.’

  Harry Drysdale, the barrister representing Lorna, stood for his cross-examination of Konrad, on behalf of his client. He had a kindlier disposition.

  ‘Mr Neale, thank you for trying to answer my colleague’s questions, and I’m sure the court appreciates the amount of time you’ve spent in the witness box. I have only one or two more questions for you. Firstly, do you believe Lorna Yates willingly assaulted you?’

  ‘No. I do not.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I believe we were both drugged by the intruder. Naomi Woods.’

  ‘Can I make this clear for the jury, My Lord? The main prosecution witness and victim in this case does not support the view of the prosecution that my client, Lorna Yates, is guilty of the crime for which she has b
een charged. No further questions.’

  Good cop. Bad cop. I get it.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Neale, you may step down.’

  He barely registered his walk from the witness stand to his seat in the courtroom next to Eliza where the usher offered him cold water. He tried not to spill the contents as he gratefully accepted the much-needed drink, trying to manage his jangling nerves and control his breathing.

  Next to take the witness stand was DS Jenkins who was asked for her version of events. It was a factual account, spoken clearly and concisely. Rupert Van Dahl emphasised the extent of the injuries to Konrad’s face, his client’s interactions with Lorna, and DS Jenkins’ observations relating to his amnesia.

  When Mrs Steele cross-examined DS Jenkins, she took a direct aggressive approach to bolster her argument that the scene at the hotel was ‘more reminiscent of a snuff movie than a romantic sexual encounter. Wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘I’m not qualified to comment,’ Jenkins replied. A stern expression firmly fixed in place.

  ‘When you examined the scene of the crime what struck you about the items in the room other than the clothing?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand the question.’

  ‘I do apologise Detective Sergeant Jenkins. Let me be more specific. Were there items in the room that related directly to the injuries sustained by Mr Neale, and if so what were they and why were they significant to the police investigation?’

  DS Jenkins confirmed her understanding and paused for thought before answering. ‘The items of particular interest were the knife used in the attack and a number of lengths of rope which had been placed neatly on the dressing table. The knife had not been wiped clean, and I repeat, there were no defensive wounds found on Mr Neale’s forearms that would indicate self-defence. These types of wounds were significant by their absence. However, we also found a blindfold and some tie wraps, which led to an initial hypothesis that Mr Neale was unaware of the threat posed to him by the assailant. Other items of interest included a double-ended dildo, several other sex toys, and a number of condoms. Six, as I said in my statement.’