The Danger Within

Nine

Docherty and Saslow helped Gill Quinn put on the trainers the PC had been concealing. They appeared to fit rather better than the tracksuit. At least she’d be able to walk, thought Vogel. Assuming she was willing to do so.

Docherty looked all in. Unsurprisingly. She had taken Vogel’s instruction to stick close to Gill Quinn quite literally, and stayed at the hospital all night. Vogel continued to be impressed by Morag Docherty.

For whatever reason, maybe because she had realized there was little alternative, Gillian Quinn appeared to have decided to cooperate. On the surface, at any rate. Certainly she seemed calm enough, outwardly at least, in stark contrast to how she had been the previous evening.

She allowed herself to be escorted out of the hospital without any further incident. And once she was safely installed in Saslow’s car, illegally parked outside, Vogel felt able to release Docherty.

‘Go home, get some rest, I’ll square it with your sergeant,’ he told her.

During the short drive to Barnstaple police station, Gill did not speak at all. Which suited Vogel. He preferred there to be no further conversation between them until he could begin a formal videoed interview.

It was vital to provide no opportunity for any evidence she might give to be declared invalid at a later date.

She was offered a solicitor upon arrival at the station. She declined.

‘Why would I need a solicitor?’ she asked.

Vogel studied her carefully. He didn’t know what to make of that. Was she being disingenuous? She was a professional woman. She was not stupid. Perhaps she still wasn’t in a fit condition to be interviewed. He dismissed that thought. He had an opportunity to interview his number one suspect without the presence of a solicitor. He was a decent man and a principled police officer, but he wasn’t a saint.

Gill was therefore taken straight to an interview room where she was duly cautioned. Vogel had designated himself to lead the interview, aided by DS Saslow.

He began by asking Gill about her whereabouts on the previous day, particularly during the afternoon at around the time her husband was believed to have been killed.

‘I don’t remember,’ she said.

‘Well, did you go out at all, or were you at home all day?’

‘I think I went out.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘I don’t remember.’

Vogel consoled himself that at least the woman was speaking now. She was saying something. Even if it wasn’t anything constructive. He persisted.

‘Do you know what time you went out yesterday?’

‘No.’

‘Were you at home during the afternoon yesterday, before your husband died?’

‘I’m not sure.’

Vogel paused and glanced towards Saslow, his look inviting the DS to join in. He certainly wasn’t having any success. He wasn’t sure if Gill Quinn was being deliberately obstructive, or if she was genuinely still in deep shock.

‘Gill, we want to help you,’ Saslow interjected. ‘Really we do. But you do understand that we need to know everything that happened yesterday, don’t you?’

Gill Quinn nodded slightly.

‘We need you to answer for the record,’ said Saslow.

‘I understand,’ said Gill Quinn.

‘So, I will ask you again,’ Saslow continued. ‘Were you at home yesterday before, say, five p.m.?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘We know that you were at your home at six forty-one p.m. yesterday evening when you reported your husband’s death. Can you remember if there was anyone else in your house with you at any stage, apart from you and your husband?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Gill again.

Saslow continued with the gentle approach.

‘If there was anyone else present at any time, or if you could remember when you were away from your house, and where you went, that would be very valuable information. Then we could work towards finding you somewhere to stay, and getting you the help you clearly need.’

Gill Quinn folded her arms tightly around her upper body and looked down at the table. She did not respond.

Vogel had had enough. He was beginning to distrust this woman, and it was time to do something about it. He was not necessarily a fan of the old good cop, bad cop routine. For a start he’d always regarded it as too darned obvious. But it had its uses on occasion. And this, he felt, might be one of those occasions.

‘If you do not reply, then I can only assume that you were alone with your husband,’ he said curtly. ‘I need a full explanation from you concerning whatever may have happened in your home to lead to your husband’s death. Do you understand me? And I need it now.’

Gill Quinn looked up. Her eyes were blank again. It really was impossible to work out what was going on behind them. She did not speak.

‘You know how your husband died, don’t you?’ Vogel continued. ‘I need you to tell me what happened, do you understand? Please answer me.’

Yet again there was no response. Vogel wasn’t sure what further approach to take. The woman could well still be genuinely confused and in shock. But this was a murder investigation. He decided to proceed on the basis that one way to deal with shock was to meet it with further shock. At least that way he might get some sort of a response.

He raised his voice considerably, which was unusual for Vogel.

‘You must know that your husband was stabbed violently, several times. You do know that, don’t you?’ he began. ‘Eleven times actually. He suffered cataclysmic knife wounds to his belly, upper torso, and to his throat. A blade entered the base of his throat just below the larynx and slashed open the jugular. He would have bled to death from that wound alone. There was no need for any further wounds to be inflicted. But his attacker was clearly in a frenzy, out of control...’

Gill Quinn shut her eyes, blocked her ears, then lowered her head almost onto the table.

‘I need you to listen to me, Gill,’ continued Vogel. ‘And I need you to cooperate with me, for your own good.’

Gill remained silent, sitting quite still, her head still bowed.

‘If you do not answer my questions I can only assume that you have reasons for not wishing to do so,’ continued the DCI sternly. ‘And I suspect those reasons might incriminate you. We are getting close to my being left with no alternative but to arrest you on suspicion of the murder of your husband.’

Gill raised her head, unblocked her ears and opened her eyes. From the expression on her face, Vogel suspected that she had heard him well enough, in spite of the blocked ears.

‘Shall we try again?’ asked Vogel. ‘Starting right at the beginning. Let’s go through your movements yesterday. You said that you think that you went out, but that you could not remember where you went. Can you remember when you left the house?’

Again Gill remained silent.

‘Are you sure you did leave the house?’

Nothing.

Vogel repeated some more of his earlier questions. These were also answered only with silence, and indeed no visible response at all.

Vogel was frustrated. His earlier shock approach had met with at least some response, if not that which he had hoped for. He decided to really go for it. This interview had ground to a halt. It seemed he had little to lose.

‘Gill, did you kill your husband?’ he asked abruptly. ‘Did you attack him with a knife and inflict multiple stab wounds? Did you continue to stab him repeatedly until you were sure that he was dead? Did you kill Thomas, Gill?’

For a few seconds the woman remained silent and failed to respond in any way. Her facial expression did not change.

Then suddenly she opened her mouth. It was almost as if her jaw dropped without her control.

And she began to scream at the top of her voice.