A Perfect Likeness (4 page)

‘Hello, Miss Lister, I’m Jim Ingles, pleased to meet you.’ He offered his hand.

‘Likewise, and thanks for arranging for me to see Michael. I must say Dr Ingles, you don’t look quite like the doctor I was expecting to see.’ He was wearing a crumpled pair of corduroy trousers and a baggy, creased jumper. His dishevelled crop of brown hair showed signs of greying down both sideburns and his thick framed glasses hung round his neck on a bright yellow cord.

He grinned and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t need a white coat. All the inmates know who I am and it makes them feel more comfortable when they have to see me. Not only that it’s more cosy for me. Right, we’ve got Michael outside, but all he’s been told is that someone has come to see him regarding the letter he sent to his sister-in-law. He does’t know who you are or what you are. Thought you might like to explain the circumstances yourself. Right, shall we make a start?’

Trish nodded and brushed the sticky palms of her hands down the sides of her skirt. She was riding the edge, desperate for a drink and wishing she was back on her stool in The Study.

Michael Campbell was ushered in, dwarfed between two giant warders both of whom appeared well over six feet with the right build to go with it. One looked unnaturally brown; sunbed tanned surmised Trish as she looked directly into his eyes. He displayed a perfect set of dentist prepared teeth and, just for a moment, Trish forgot her liquid desire. The second warder did not have the same effect; much older and proudly showing off his highly polished shaven head whilst opting to hide the majority of his face beneath a luxuriant beard. Each had a light, almost courteous hold of one of Campbell’s arms. ‘He’s all yours, Dr Ingles,’ said the bearded one releasing his grip. ‘If you need us we’ll be outside.’

‘Thanks, but I’m sure we won’t have any problems.’

They made a well rehearsed about-turn, leaving Campbell alone and staring at the floor. He was wearing a pair of well worn blue denim jeans and a prison shirt. He looked pale, but otherwise appeared to be in good physical shape.
Not much change from the photograph,
thought Trish although his face showed none of the happiness it did then.

‘Michael,’ began Dr Ingles, ‘this is Trish Lister. She wishes to speak with you about the letter you sent to Jackie Salter.’

‘Hello, Michael.’ Trish extended a hand, but Campbell refused it.

‘Inspector Deckman too embarrassed to come himself, was he? So he damn well should be. Sending along one of his underlings won’t make the slightest difference to me, I despise all police officers. They are the reason I’m here, for failing to do their job properly. My wife was murdered and to keep their statistics looking good they lock me away. It’s a disgrace, justice at its worst.’

‘Alright, Michael, that’s enough. Not the best of ways to start a meeting is it? Particularly one that holds so much expectation for you. And I thought you were an educated man.’

‘Sorry, Doc, but how do you expect me to feel?’ said Campbell, not shifting his gaze from Trish. ‘I was hoping that Deckman would at least have had the courtesy to come even if it was only to make excuses.’

Trish remained calm and sat opposite Campbell with Dr Ingles to her left, at the end of the table. ‘Don‘t worry, Dr Ingles, it’s not the first time I’ve had a rough welcome and it certainly won’t be the last.’ She raised her hand to her mouth to disguise her need to swallow. Her mouth was dry. She again thought of that promised drink.

Ingles noticed. ‘Are you feeling alright, Miss Lister?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. Woke up with a dry throat. I hope I’m not coming down with anything.’ She turned towards Campbell. ‘Okay, Michael, let’s see if we can sort out your problem. First of all I am not a police officer and I have not been sent here by Detective Inspector Deckman. I’m a private investigator and have been asked to speak with you by Jackie Salter. Does that make our meeting easier for you?’

‘Oh. Yes. I… I’m sorry, Miss Lister, I jumped the gun.’ He offered his hand. ‘Can we start again, please?’

‘Delighted to. My name is Trish. Let’s try and keep it all as informal as possible.’

‘Miss Lister, sorry, Trish, may I ask why Jackie didn’t come and see me?’ Campbell fidgeted in his chair wishing he had been less aggressive.

‘For the same reason as Inspector Deckman wasn’t prepared to reopen the case. Your letter changes nothing, Michael, because it does not tell us anything new. You gave no reason why the verdict should be reconsidered. As far as Jackie is concerned you murdered her sister and the court agreed. However, for motives she is unable to explain, Jackie has employed me to look at all the evidence once again to see if I can come across anything that has been overlooked. If I can find something worthwhile we will take it to DI Deckman for his comments. What I need from you, Michael, is your help, your complete cooperation and, above all, your total honesty. You make just one untrue statement and that will be the end of it. I can assure you I will know if you lie. Remember, it is Jackie who is giving you this chance so I suggest you keep that in your head at all times. Do you understand and accept what I have said? If not I might as well leave now.’ She got up as if the meeting was over.

‘No, no, don’t go.’ He was agitated and raised a hand. ‘I do accept and
appreciate what you are doing. Please pass my thanks to Jackie as well.’

‘I will. Look, Michael, I don’t expect to achieve much today, but don’t worry, if there is something that has been missed I’m sure we will find it. Right, tell me how did you get on with Jackie?’

‘There has to be something, Trish, please find it for me. I can’t stand much more of this.’ He looked as though he could slip over the edge at any time. He hesitated, unable to speak.

‘Just relax, Michael, and answer the question in your own time,’ said Ingles.

‘Okay, sorry, Doc. Well, about Jackie. She’s excellent, was always wonderful to me. In fact the two families, Victoria’s and mine, were all very close. It was fantastic. Now I see nobody, I have nobody.’ He choked over the final words.

‘Your choice,’ said Dr Ingles. ‘You’ve had enough opportunities to have visits and your parents have applied to see you many times, but you always say no.’

‘Yes, Doc, but I cannot bear to see anyone in here. The thought of my parents having to visit their son in prison… I… I couldn’t put them through such an ordeal. Do they know you are here, Trish?’

‘No. Jackie has not told anyone and will not tell anyone unless it looks as though there are definite grounds to believe you might be released. I have begun reading through your statements and it all seems clear, but I would like you to tell me exactly what happened on the night Victoria was killed. What occurred those moments before you were seen running out of the apartment block in tears?’

‘It was just as my statement says. We had another argument about the right time to start a family. It was the only thing we didn’t agree on. We loved each other so much, but this problem was a thorn. Victoria wanted to start a family and I didn’t. Not at that time anyway. I wanted to wait a couple of more years until I’d passed my next set of promotion exams so I could be sure I was able to support a family. Victoria said she would be getting too old by then. That evening the argument got a bit noisier than usual and I got so worked up I just ran out of the flat and down the stairs.’

‘Did you close the front door?’

‘I’m not sure, but I might not have done.’

‘Why didn’t you use the lift?’

‘Couldn’t, it was on the way up, so I ran down the stairs. I didn’t want to wait about.’

‘You didn’t say the lift was occupied in your statement. Why not?’

‘I never thought about it and nobody asked that question.’

‘Did you happen to notice what floor the lift was at?’

‘I think it had just stopped at our floor, but, as I said, I didn’t want to wait around for anyone to see me in the state I was.’

‘What did you do then?’

‘I just walked the beach for a couple of hours before going back home. I’d decided to tell Victoria we should go for a family straight away, I didn’t want any more arguments and I knew she was right. It would be leaving things a bit late had we waited.’ Michael broke down. ‘It’s my fault Victoria is dead,’ he sobbed. ‘I as good as killed her myself by leaving her alone.’

‘Okay, Michael, let’s rest for a while,’ said Ingles, ‘would you care for some water?’

‘No, Doc, I’m alright. I get like this all the time when I think about things. About my life with Victoria. The silly things she used to do. Like making up special dates for celebrating. For example, the 15
th
March was Proposal Day. Each year I received a card with loving thanks for asking her to be my wife. She always made the card herself, on the computer. Personalised. With the card was always a tie, wrapped in a bright paper with contrasting coloured ribbon. She would say that it was nothing special, just for work. And when Victoria and Jackie were together it was such fun. The things they used to get up to were unbelievable. They were so close I used to believe they knew what the other was thinking. They behaved like they were twins.’

Michael stopped talking, his eyes almost closed and his brow furrowed. He tapped his forehead. ‘Strange, something I’ve just said nudged at a distant memory, but it’s gone.’ He thought for a while longer. ‘Sorry, I can’t think of it.’ He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

‘I think we should call it a day, Michael,’ said Trish. ‘You look as though you’ve had enough. I know we’ve not achieved what we both wanted from this meeting, but, as I said earlier, don’t worry. I’ll arrange with Dr Ingles to come back next week. In the meantime I want you to think hard about any odd thing that Victoria may have mentioned in the days, weeks or even months, leading up to her death. Anything at all, no matter how trivial it may have sounded at the time. Like a strange phone call, the thought that she was being followed, meeting a new friend. Anything. And try to remember what almost came to your mind just now. I like these locked away thoughts as they can often be very useful.’

‘Thanks, Miss Lister, I do appreciate what you are doing. Please find that evidence for me, I do not deserve to be in here. I did not kill my Victoria. Please believe me, I did
not
kill Victoria.’

Dr Ingles instructed the warders to return Michael to his cell. ‘Any thoughts, Miss Lister?’

‘Not at the moment. Except for the rather stupid thought that he doesn’t look like your normal murderer and I should know better than to say something like that.’

‘Maybe it’s not so silly. I’ve been unfortunate enough to meet and speak to many murderers, too many, and I have developed my own method of categorisation. Michael doesn’t fit into any. He is the perfect prisoner in many ways, no trouble at all. Hates to mix with other inmates, he either reads or sits on his bed looking at the wall and cries. We are most concerned for him, although I must say he has perked up a little since writing the letter to Jackie.’

‘What happens to Michael from now on?’

‘I’m afraid it rather depends on you, Miss Lister, and what you can come up with. In the meantime we continue to counsel and monitor until he either improves or gets worse. If it’s the latter then I will have no option other than to recommend he be moved to a more suitable unit.’

‘A mental institution?’

‘The last resort, but whichever way it goes you still have a few weeks to come up with something. If it is there to come up with. Good luck, Miss Lister, I really do hope you can find what Michael is expecting you to find.’

*

Jackie watched as Trish approached. She was crying, finding it difficult to walk in a straight line. Jackie got out of the car and grabbed hold of her. Her clothes were damp with sweat and she could not control her shaking.

‘What’s the matter, Trish? What’s gone wrong?’

‘Nothing to both. I was alright until the meeting was over and then I fell apart. The gate warder was going to call the doctor, but I told him not to worry as you were waiting outside. I must have that drink you promised, Jackie. Now.’

Jackie stopped at the first pub. She was apprehensive, but knew she had to go in. She’d promised. It was not like The Study, but it served the purpose. It served the gin and tonic Trish was craving for. The first sip was heaven. She savoured it, allowing it to linger in her mouth before swallowing. Her sigh was one of pure pleasure.

‘I needed that more than anything else in the world. My first for thirty-six hours; you’re a hard woman, Jackie Salter.’

‘Make it last, it’s all you’re getting.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘Please make up your mind, one moment I’m Jackie and now I’m your mother. I’m confused. What are you going to call me by next?’

‘You’d best be prepared for anything; depends on what role I think you’re playing.’

They began to giggle again, but both well aware of the seriousness of Trish’s situation. She’d only taken her first step towards rehabilitation.

‘Okay, down to business. How did the meeting go?’

‘After a difficult start, when Michael believed I was sent by the police, it was pretty relaxed, but not really productive.’

‘How was he?’ interrupted Jackie.

‘Didn’t think you cared.’

‘I didn’t think I did, but since the letter I’m not that sure anymore.’