Part 15 (1/2)
Like many people Charlie had interviewed, Kerry didnt seem to realize that loading the how-long-behind-bars question with bias and hope would make zero difference to the answer.
”Murdering your wifes a big thing to do wrong, even if youve never previously been nabbed for illegal parking. If you care about Tims freedom, you could always tell me the truth. I know its hard, Kerry, but-”
”Would you like another cup of tea?”
”No, thanks.” Two was more than enough. Charlies brain felt jumpy and swollen. ”Ill have a gla.s.s of water,” she said, sensing that Kerry would find it easier to talk if she had a practical task to occupy her at the same time. Easier, also, to avoid talking while fussing over a guest: the hospitality of desperation. Charlie waited until Kerry was at the sink with her back turned to say, ”I wasnt expecting you to tell me the story of Francines death in the way that you did.”
”What do you mean?”
”You told it from Tims point of view. You left yourself out.”
”I thought you meant . . . I wasnt directly involved in Francines death, so I-”
”But you were in the house,” Charlie raised her voice to be heard over the sound of the running cold tap and juddering pipes. ”You were here the whole time, werent you?”
I wasnt directly involved. Was that a peculiar thing to say, or was Charlie reading too much into it?
The noise stopped abruptly as Kerry turned off the tap. She came back to the table with a large wet patch in the center of her s.h.i.+rt. So nervous that she cant fill two gla.s.ses with water without spilling nearly as much again. ”Kerry, can I give you some advice? Thanks.” Charlie rescued her drink from a shaking hand. ”If youre committed to lying about Francines death, youre going to have to lie better. This is a murder case.”
”I know that,” Kerry said quietly. She sat sideways on her chair with her arm round its back, clinging on. With her other hand, she grabbed the soaked part of her s.h.i.+rt and held it in her clenched fist.
”Avoiding the questions you dont want to answer by offering cups of tea . . . its not going to fool anyone. Im sensing you want to help here, Kerry. Youre not the kind of person who obstructs a police investigation. Which is why youre doing everything you can to avoid having to tell outright lies, sitting on the fence so that you can kid yourself youre not doing anything wrong.”
Charlie watched as the red blotches on Kerrys cheeks grew and changed shape. If only guilty hot flushes could be translated into words. Still, Charlie was encouraged by all the body language shed seen so far. This level of stress wasnt sustainable. Lying required stamina. Kerrys energy levels would at some point hit a dangerous low, worn down by the slow, insistent rattle of imaginary bars. Melodramatic, perhaps, but Charlie knew from countless witness interviews that this was how bad liars felt when they lied: as if theyd put the poor, victimized truth in a cage against its will. Good liars-like Charlie when she needed to be-were able to make their lies last because they didnt believe truth always had right on its side.
”Youll get a sore b.u.m if you stay on that fence for much longer,” she told Kerry. ”If I were you, Id jump off: one side or the other. Either tell me the real story, or work on your act. And make sure its airtight, because believe me, if it isnt, someone cleverer and closer to this case than I am will soon be along to blast a big hole in it.”
Kerry said nothing. She was busy scrunching and unscrunching her s.h.i.+rt. Was she wondering if she could make the coherent lie option work for her? Charlies best chance was to deprive her of thinking time by piling on the questions.
”You were in better shape before Gaby turned up,” she said. ”What was it about Gabys arrival that threw you? Actually, it wasnt her arrival, was it? You gave her a saviors welcome when she first walked in. 'Thank G.o.d, you said.”
”It was a figure of speech. I didnt mean . . . I meant I was glad she was here, thats all.”
”No, it was more than that. You were relieved to see she was safe, was that it? Or you thought shed be able to keep you safe? Or Tim?”
”No.”
”What can Gaby do to help Tim?”
”Youre twisting my words!” Kerry blinked away tears.
”Sorry. I dont mean to.” Charlie was trying to pick out a middle path between going easy and applying too much pressure. ”You know what it is? I forget that Im 'the police sometimes.” She mimed quotation marks, taking care to keep her voice matter-of-fact and friendly. ”Especially when Im not on duty, like today. But, generally, most of the time. In my head Im just a regular person like you, not some scary authority figure. Youve got all the power here, Kerry. You know and I dont, whatever the secret is. In my position, youd probably also feel frustrated and make wildly inaccurate guesses.”
”You wouldnt understand!”
”Try me.”
Kerry nodded. ”Gaby loves Tim. As much as I do. She knows how special he is. Thats why I said, 'Thank G.o.d. Ive been having a rough time since Francine died. Ive been desperate for someone to talk to, someone wholl understand. Ive got Dan, but hes not coping well. I dont want to add to his worries. Gabys stronger. Than any of us, than all of us put together.”
a.r.s.e still firmly on fence. Charlie felt a flash of impatience. She had no trouble believing that Kerry was keen to talk to someone who would understand, but understand what? Why it was so crucial to pretend that Tim Breary had murdered his wife, and protect the real murderer? Kerry was still stonewalling, except now she was doing it while appearing to cooperate, by making ambiguous statements that could be interpreted in a range of ways instead of by clamming up and refusing to answer.
And whose fault is that, if shes brushed up on her presentation? Who told her to lie better?
”Gaby made a few comments you didnt seem comfortable with,” Charlie said. ”Do you remember? I suppose you could hardly brief her, with me here. Thats why she mentioned what she wasnt supposed to mention, why you went from thanking G.o.d to tense as a tightrope walkers calf muscle in such a short s.p.a.ce of time.”
Kerry shook her head: more automatic self-defense than a specific denial.
”She said that if Tim had wanted to kill Francine hed have done it years ago. Also that hed hated his and Francines house on . . . Heron Road, was it?”
”Heron Close.”
”Why didnt you like Gaby mentioning those things?”
”Tims a private person,” said Kerry. ”Theres no reason for anyone to be discussing the details of his relations.h.i.+p with Francine.”
”If I were desperate to preserve my privacy and keep all noses out of my marriage, the last thing Id do is make headlines by smothering my spouse,” Charlie said. ”Is that why Tims claiming he doesnt know why he did it, to avoid sharing things hed find too personal to talk about?”
”No,” Kerry said flatly.
Charlie grinned as if none of it mattered. ”Thats not a clever answer. You almost, but not quite, admitted that hes lying.”
”Is that what you think Im doing-trying to be clever?”
Charlie leaned forward. ”The opposite, actually. I think youre trying not to be clever in order to feel less guilty. Bare-minimum deceit, thats what youre aiming for. Know how many Brownie points its going to earn you? None. Not enjoying lying doesnt count as mitigation in a conspiracy to pervert the course of justice charge.”
Kerry pulled her long hair taut as if it were an alarm cord, and made a noise that was easy enough to interpret: raw fear. Was this the first shed heard about how the law might be used against her if she kept up her pretense? Had Sam Kombothekra been too polite to mention it? Another reason why he ought to hand the job back to Charlie.
”Gaby doesnt share your concern for Tims privacy, clearly,” she said. ”Shes more interested in getting him out of prison. I think you underestimated her.”
”Gabys brilliant,” Kerry murmured. She stared at the door as if willing her friend to walk through it again.
”She seems pretty keen on uncovering the truth. Are you confident you can talk her into keeping quiet about whatever she finds out? I wouldnt be.”
Kerry turned her stare on Charlie, making real eye contact for the first time. The intensity was alarming, invasive, as if her eyes were reaching inside for something that wasnt hers to take. Charlie fought the urge to look away. ”My brains a pea compared to Gabys!” Kerry said fiercely. ”Sos yours, so are most peoples. Whatever Gaby does, whatever she wants, I trust her absolutely.”
”Right. But you dont trust yourself,” Charlie deduced aloud. ”Or Dan, or Tim-not in the way you trust Gaby. You didnt like her saying those things because-” She broke off. The idea was too complex to be easily put into words.
”I told you,” said Kerry. ”Tims a very private-”
”Yeah, I know. Sorry, that wasnt a question. My pea-brain was busy a.s.sembling the rest of what I was trying to say.” Charlie grinned and made a cross-eyed face. Kerry didnt reciprocate the smile. ”You want brilliant Gaby to take charge, tell you what to do for the best-is that it?”
Kerrys body went completely still, as if shed switched herself off.
”You werent comfortable with her mouthing off about Tim and Francine from a position of ignorance. Gaby wasnt here when Francine was murdered. Shes not one of the Dower House gang. At the moment, all she knows is the official version of events, and you couldnt tell her otherwise in front of me. Once shes up to speed, youll happily stand back and leave the planning and decision-making to her. Youre guessing shes going to feel differently about what she is and isnt willing to say in front of the police once shes heard the full story. Right? Or maybe youre not going to tell her, because youre too scared, but youre hoping shes brilliant enough to work it out on her own?”
”Can we take a break?” Kerry asked, her voice cracking on the last word.
”Anytime you like. This isnt an official interview. What about Lauren Cookson?”
Kerry looked up. ”What about her?”