‘Thomas Quinn was a sophisticated man. His physical attacks on his wife constituted merely the tip of the iceberg of his abuse.’
‘That may be so, Miss Harris,’ responded Vogel. ‘But I’ve been more than twenty years a copper and I’ve never seen anything quite like this.’
He waved a hand at Helen Harris’ phone.
‘Indeed, Mr Vogel. And that is the whole point. You’re not supposed to see it. The perpetrator makes sure of that. And the victims are all too often complicit in that. Some will even accept quite vicious injuries, like the burns Gill has suffered, in a place that is not readily visible, as long as their faces are not damaged.’
Vogel shook his head.
‘I know that’s true, but I must admit it does puzzle me a bit. There’s so much more help available nowadays than there used to be, surely. People like you, and the police attitude to domestic abuse has changed dramatically over the years.’
‘Probably, but not always to any great effect. Fewer than a quarter of reported incidents result in prosecution. The women, and occasionally the men, who come to us here are inclined not to have a great deal of confidence in the police or the UK’s judicial system. In any case, the Quinns, way before yesterday’s awful incident, were a perfect example of a couple living an abusive life, in which both victim and perpetrator were to some degree complicit. Gill has somehow managed to hold down a responsible job which gives her a certain standing in the community. She has a son she adores whom I understand also adores her, and whom she has always managed to see frequently, without her husband being present. She has always lived well and in a certain style. You’ve seen their home? More than comfortable, and beautifully situated. In addition to all his other dubious attributes, Thomas Quinn was an astute businessman, according to Gill, who was convinced, by the way, that she would finish up with very little if she tried to end their marriage.
‘Also, like most who feel they are trapped in this sort of situation, Gill appeared to have convinced herself that Thomas wasn’t all bad, and would always tell us that there were good times in between his violent outbursts. Albeit that she was always being controlled. So she kept that awful horrible part of her life a secret, and just put up with it. She used us as a refuge, which is at least partially what we are for, somewhere to escape to during the bad times.’
‘When exactly did she start coming to you?’
‘Last year, during the first lockdown, when the abuse she suffered reached a whole new level. A not uncommon scenario, as I’m sure you know, chief inspector, when people, particularly those in fragile and potentially violent relationships, were suddenly and unexpectedly trapped together with little or no outside influence to divert them from each other. It was after the first time Thomas had used a lit cigarette on her. She seemed as shocked as we were then. She told us that, although he had previously been violent on occasions, it was not severe — in her opinion — as long as she did exactly what he said. In everything. Which is that other kind of abuse I was talking about. Exerting total and quite stupefying control over another human being. Anyway, apparently Thomas was full of remorse for burning her, and promised that he would never ever do such a thing again. Having seen those pictures, Mr Vogel, you know just how well he kept that promise!’
Vogel knew. He also knew that those pictures would be indelibly printed on his memory. For ever. Like so much else he had seen during his career. But there were now a number of other questions crying out for answers. He made himself concentrate on that.
‘You mentioned Gill’s son, Greg,’ he began. ‘Whom she adores. Whom you believe adores her. Surely Gill couldn’t have kept all this from him? Don’t you think he must have been aware of what was happening to his mother? Didn’t he ever try to help?’
Helen shrugged.
‘People see what they want to see, Mr Vogel,’ she said. ‘And as for helping his mother, well, that was a hard thing to do. We can bear witness to that. Yesterday was just another example of that. Gill was more frightened and distraught than any of us had ever seen her. We really did hope that this time she would allow us to do something more constructive to help her. She was in a shocking state when she arrived. The burns to her ears were paining her dreadfully. She said she didn’t think she could carry on. But as the day passed she changed her mind again. Told us she just wanted to wait until Thomas had calmed down, then go home.’
‘That must have been very frustrating for you, Miss Harris,’ commented Vogel.
‘Yes,’ Helen agreed. ‘But it is also something we are all too familiar with.’
‘It would appear that Thomas Quinn was guilty of criminal assault. You clearly have reservations about the help that is available from the authorities, but did you suggest to Gill that she might come to us and report his abuse, or at least take refuge with you more permanently?’
‘We discussed all of that. We don’t tell our women what to do. They have to reach the point where they want to take action, and feel confident in doing so. Yesterday we rather hoped Gill had reached that point. But she still went back to Thomas.’
‘What did she do while she was here yesterday?’ asked Vogel, changing tack slightly.
‘Oh, the stuff that all our people do, cooed over the babies, helped get lunch, watched some TV, chatted about all sorts of things, rarely the things that really matter. It takes a while for any of our victims to be frank about their situation, and some never get to that stage. Gill was one of those, unfortunately.’
‘Forgive me asking again, Miss Harris, but are you absolutely certain that she was here all day and never left the premises? Not even for a short time?’
‘Absolutely sure.’
‘All right. Can you confirm exactly when she left?’
‘No I can’t, not exactly. But I expect my partner, Sadie, can. She gave Gill a lift home. She’ll be in the day room, I expect. If you don’t mind waiting a moment I’ll go and get her.’
Once she’d left the room Vogel turned to Saslow.
‘Well, what do you think of that, Dawn?’ he enquired. ‘Seems like our leading suspect has a pretty strong alibi.’
‘She also has a pretty strong motive, boss. Stronger than either you or I would have imagined, I reckon. Me anyway. I can’t believe what that man did to her.’
‘I agree, but it seems she may not have had the opportunity...’ Vogel began.
He broke off as Helen Harris, and a second woman, returned.
‘This is Sadie, Sadie Pearson, without whom I would be totally lost,’ she announced.
Sadie turned out to be the birdlike woman who had answered the front door. This time she managed a brief smile. She had clear bright eyes which darted around the room almost as if they had a will of their own.
Vogel repeated his question concerning Gill Quinn’s time of departure.
‘Oh yes, I know to the minute,’ Sadie Pearson responded immediately, and somewhat to Vogel’s surprise.
‘I keep my car radio permanently tuned to Radio Four,’ she continued. ‘Mostly, the only time I get to catch up on what’s happening in the world outside of this place is when I’m driving. The six o’clock news was just beginning as Gill and I set off.’
‘So what time did you get to Gill’s home?’ asked Vogel.
‘Well, I turned the radio down because I had a passenger, but I kept it on. Habit, I suppose. And the news ended just as I dropped Gill off. It’s only fifteen minutes on a Saturday, so it would have been pretty much dead on a quarter past six. Gill would have been home a few minutes later.’