AF: [swallows]
What about CCTV at the bridge?
DK: I’m the one asking the questions here. Not you.
* * *
It’s the first time Gislingham has encountered Marina Fisher in the flesh, though he’s seen the pictures, and had a characteristically measured and objective assessment from Gareth Quinn (‘getting on a bit but definitely shaggable’). Though the minute she comes through the door Gis can see what Quinn was getting at. Fisher definitely has something about her, even in these less than ideal circumstances. He’s heard all about her extravagant dress sense too, but it comes as no surprise to see she’s gone for knee-length and navy today. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d be hard-pressed to decide which was the client and which the lawyer.
Quinn closes the door behind them, and they take their seats, women one side, men the other.
‘We haven’t met, Professor Fisher,’ says Gis. ‘I’m DS Chris Gislingham, and I’ll be running the inquiry for the time being.’
‘What about DI Fawley?’ says the lawyer quickly. ‘I thought this was his case?’
‘DI Fawley has been called away to deal with another matter. But rest assured I’m completely up to speed.’
He looks to Quinn, who starts up the recording.
‘So,’ says Gislingham. ‘Before we start, I need to check you’ve been reminded that you are still under caution. Now, we’ve asked you back this afternoon to talk to you about the incident with your dress.’
Fisher glances briefly at her lawyer. ‘But I’ve already told you – I don’t remember how the gown got ripped.’
‘I should tell you we’ve had a profiler look over our interview with you. An expert in body language. And he’s quite sure that you do, in fact, know exactly how the dress got ripped. There’s only one explanation we can think of as to why you’d lie about that: because it happened during a sexual assault on Caleb Morgan. An assault you’re still saying never took place.’
There’s a silence. Fisher shifts in her seat.
‘OK,’ she says at last. ‘You’re right. I think I do know how the gown got damaged.’
She takes a breath, reaches for her water.
‘I didn’t notice the rip when I first got up the following morning – I just wanted a cup of tea and some aspirin. But when I went back up to Tobin’s bedroom he was on the floor playing with some sequins – red sequins. He said he wanted them to stick on his drawing.’
‘You’re saying your son tore your dress – to get the sequins?’
She flushes a little. ‘While I was downstairs, yes, I think so.’
‘Has he done that sort of thing before?’
Her flush deepens. ‘He likes shiny things. And he probably didn’t realize how hard it would be to get them off.’ She shrugs. ‘Like I said before, children don’t always know their own strength.’
‘Did you ask him about it?’
She looks away, nods.
‘And what did he say?’
Her gaze drops. ‘He denied it. Said he never touched the gown. That he found the sequins on the kitchen floor.’
‘But you didn’t believe him.’
She still isn’t looking at them. ‘There weren’t any sequins on the kitchen floor.’
‘Have you asked him again – since then?’
She shrugs. ‘He’s still denying it.’ She looks from one officer to the other. ‘Oh, come on – he’s not the first child to tell a fib because they’ve done something naughty.’
Gis nods slowly – he’s the father of a two-year-old. He knows.
But Quinn’s still pushing. ‘So why didn’t you tell us all this right from the start?’
She glances at him, then looks away. ‘It was a family matter.’
Her face is closed; an ice sheet has come down.
* * *
‘Thanks for helping with this, Bryan,’ says Gallagher. ‘I just wanted another pair of eyes. Unofficially.’
Gow looks up at her from the video screen. ‘No problem. I was in Kidlington today anyway.’
He looks back at the screen again, then presses pause, a small frown creasing his brow.
‘Well?’ says Gallagher. Her arms are folded. She looks restless, edgy.
He pushes his glasses up his nose. ‘It’s a first, certainly. Watching one of these things to decide whether it’s a police officer who’s lying.’
‘He’s a suspect. Just like any other.’
Gow gives her a pointed look, then makes a note on his pad.
‘Well, is he?’ she says, a little impatiently now. ‘Lying?’
He glances up at her. ‘I could see no sign of it. I’ll take the footage back with me and review it again, but there’s nothing jumping out right now. He’s under acute strain, which is hardly a surprise, but when he denies having committed the crime his words and body language show no divergence. None at all.’
‘Dave King would no doubt say that if anyone knew how to do that, it’d be Adam Fawley.’
Gow raises an eyebrow. ‘No doubt.’
Gallagher gets the message. ‘Look, I know King can be a bit – unsubtle – but he’s a good copper. He has good instincts.’
Gow is writing again. ‘If you say so.’
* * *
‘So, Professor Fisher, just to be clear, and for the purposes of the recording, you’re now modifying your statement to the effect that you do, in fact, know how your dress was damaged.’
Fisher heaves a loud sigh. ‘Yes.’
Quinn nods. ‘So what about the previous night, with Morgan? Is there anything about that you haven’t told us?’
‘We could do without the sarcasm, Sergeant,’ says the lawyer.
‘The answer to your question,’ says Fisher, ‘is no. I remember no more about that than I told you before.’
‘Really?’ says Quinn, openly sardonic.
She flashes him a look. ‘Really.’
She takes a breath and looks away, and Gis is suddenly aware that she’s blinking back tears.
The lawyer looks at her with concern and passes her a glass of water. Then she turns to Gislingham. ‘Look, Sergeant, this whole thing is taking the most enormous toll on Marina – she’s not sleeping – her son is having nightmares –’
‘I’m not sure what you’re expecting me to do about that –’
‘What I’m asking you
