The Evidence

by K.L. Slater

Genres: Thrillers; Crime Fiction; Psychological Thrillers; Suspense

Synopsis

I can see her through the glass door. She’s smaller in real life than I expected. She looks the exact opposite of the type of woman that might murder her husband.

Everyone’s heard of Simone Fischer. The young mother accused of killing her husband in cold blood, one sunny afternoon, while their son played in the room next door.

So when journalist Esme secures an exclusive interview with her it feels like the opportunity of a lifetime. Simone has remained silent since her husband’s death but after a decade in prison, she is willing to talk to Esme. And Esme, recently freed from her own toxic marriage, is confident she can get Simone to open up.

At their first meeting, when Esme sees Simone sitting across the table from her in jeans and a lemon tunic top, she is stuck by her ordinariness. Then Simone begins to tell her story of an abusive relationship where she was a prisoner in her own home, and Esme decides that the truth needs to come out.

But not everyone is pleased that Esme is telling Simone’s story. And when Esme’s beloved sister is left for dead in a nearby wood, Esme’s life begins to unravel. Forced to question what Simone has told her, she can’t help but wonder if murder was the only way out of Simone’s marriage. Why has it taken Simone so long to tell the world the truth? And will the consequences be devastating for Esme?

An utterly addictive and jaw-dropping read from bestselling author K.L. Slater about the darkness behind closed doors. If you like Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train you will LOVE The Evidence.

What everyone is saying about The Evidence:

‘A rollercoaster ride of emotions. This book is a thrilling read and I could not put it down.’Book Lovers Anon, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘Brilliant book… exciting, tense and full of twists and turns and a lot of shocks. Recommended!’ Goodreads reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘I was ridiculously invested in this book… compulsive’ Goodreads reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘I read this book in about a day because it was that good and I couldn't put it down. I would definitely recommend KL Slater's books’ Goodreads reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘Suspenseful and heart-breaking all at once. I was truly surprised by the ending… Would definitely recommend!’ Goodreads reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘A thrilling read and a chilling eye-opener’ RK Reads, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘Fast-paced, entertaining, with plenty of twists, suspects and red herrings. Brilliant’ Netgalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

What everyone is saying about K.L. Slater:

‘AMAZING… the fact that ANYONE can write this well is just shocking…

Release date: July 1, 2021

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 350

Sample

EPISODE ONE: MEETING SIMONE

I’m speaking to you from outside HMP Bronzefield women’s prison on the outskirts of Ashford in Middlesex. Now, this place is a bit of a groundbreaker as far as prisons go. It was built in 2004 as a women-only facility but you won’t find any Victorian gloom here or Gothic towers. The building is clean-looking, modern.

But make no mistake, this is a Category A facility for adult female offenders.

I’m about to go inside and speak to Simone Fischer, one of the inmates here. You might well have heard Simone’s name before. She’s a fifty-two-year-old British woman who, ten years ago, was convicted at the Old Bailey of the brutal murder of her husband of twenty years, Grant Austin Fischer.

Fischer has always maintained a strict silence, refusing even to give evidence at her own trial and has completely blocked any media visits. Until now.

For the first time ever, Simone has agreed to break her silence and tell The Speaking Fox the true story… in her own words.

This week marks Simone’s tenth year of an eighteen-year sentence behind bars. Today, we’ll finally begin to discover the full, true story of what happened that fateful night in 2009.

We’ll find out the truth behind a sham marriage built on coercive control and why she, and her supporters, believe her conviction was truly a miscarriage of justice.

This is a Speaking Fox podcast and I… am Esme Fox.

I’m standing about two hundred yards away from the actual prison now.

There are nearly six hundred women accommodated here, plus there’s a mother-and-baby unit, too. It’s a big place. I’m approaching the building and I can see there’s a constant stream of people entering and leaving. Visitors, officials wearing lanyards and delivery couriers.

Just going in…

So, I’m inside the foyer and it’s bright in here… smells a bit like my old school hall an hour after lunch.

OK, I’ve just been through the security and admin process, quite thorough as you’d expect and now I’m heading into the prison proper. I’ve got my own prison officer here to take me to the room where I’ll have my scheduled thirty-minute meeting with Simone. I’ll talk as we walk. It’s a noisy place as you can hear, metal doors slamming, lots of footsteps around us.

I think it’s about a five-minute walk… is it? Yes, the prison officer is nodding.

When I heard Simone had agreed to see me, I thought about the best way to prepare to get a complete overview of the case. To start, I read and watched everything I could get hold of online. There’s an incredible volume of stuff that’s been written and recorded about Simone and her conviction.

Next step was the endless hours I spent cataloguing online images, YouTube videos and audio news reports about the Fischer family. There’s a plethora of stuff out there with little to separate genuine reports and fake news. Seems everyone and his dog has an opinion and feels the need to air it.

I have a theory about that – about the strength of feeling that comes across in all this. I think the detail people struggle with, is the fact the Fischers’ twelve-year-old son, Andrew, was actually playing on his computer game in the next room when his father was killed.

I’ve read the original court transcripts and researched a variety of opinions on how Grant Fischer’s blood ended up spattered all over the kitchen units. It’s blunt, yes, but it’s the truth. And the truth is what we’re seeking in this podcast. The truth is what we have pledged not to shy away from, no matter how unpalatable.

Here we are now, outside the interview room. I can see Simone Fischer through the glass door. She’s smaller in real life than I expected. She looks the exact opposite of the type of woman that might beat her husband to death.

Sorry? Right, no problem.

So, the officer’s just asked me to wait here while she checks everything is in order in the room. Simone is sitting at a table, dressed casually in jeans and a lemon tunic top. The women at Bronzefield are permitted to wear their own clothes. Her brown hair is tied back in a loose ponytail and I’m struck by her ordinariness. She looks like your mum, your aunt… a random woman you might see shopping in the supermarket.

Yet the majority of the British public detests her. This woman who faced her abusive husband and said, ‘No more’.

The officer is on her way back to me again. Looks like I’m going in.

Esme: Hi, Simone!

Simone: Hello, Esme.

Esme: This is your chance to reach our listeners with your truth, speaking from your heart. Do you feel ready to make a start?

Simone: I’ve been waiting for the right time for a very long time. I’m ready.

Esme: Forgive me, but I’m going in strong with my questions. I want to tackle a comment I’ve seen repeatedly during my online research of your case.

Simone: Go for it.

Esme: Did you ever fantasize about murdering your husband, Simone? Go through the ways you could kill him… plan exactly how you might do it?

Simone: If only it had been that simple but no. I’d… I’d forgotten what life should be like. Does that make sense? To me, it was just the way things were now and I never questioned why I was settling for it. I only tried to get through it.

Esme: You were just trying to get through life.

Simone: That’s it, yes. You asked about death? Well, not once did I consider he might go before me, I thought… I honestly thought he would eventually kill me. Or that I would kill myself because of him. I was so far gone it never occurred to me I had a choice in the matter.

Esme: Can you remember a time you didn’t feel that way? Maybe when you first met or in your early marriage. I’m assuming things were fine to begin with… But when you first noticed the signs, when he first started treating you badly… can you remember thinking ‘I’m not standing for this’ or ‘I need to get out’?

Simone: You’ve got to understand that this wasn’t a case of one day things are fine, the next day he starts controlling me. People like to think in black and white, but it was far more subtle than that. Grant had a very special talent. When I met him, he appeared to be caring and reasonable for the first year, when in fact, underneath, he was a master at guiding my thoughts and decision-making processes. Even more impressively, he could do this while making me believe I was the one who was in control. He was like a magician in that respect.

Esme: Can you give me an example?

Simone: Let me think… OK, so, when we began dating, I was very young and close to my mum. She died a couple of years after we got married but when I met Grant, I lived just a few streets away from her and I’d pop round every day without fail. Do a bit of shopping for her sometimes, when she’d had a bad day – she had respiratory problems – or maybe do her laundry, ironing, that sort of thing.

Grant said from the start he thought it was wonderful, the way I took care of my mum. He used to say it showed what kind of a person I was: giving and caring. Then over time he started saying Mum was leaning on me far too often. He’d say things like, ‘How come she can go to Bingo but she can’t hang her own washing out?’

The clever bit was that he always seemed to come from a position of worrying about and caring for me or for Mum. For instance, at the end of a long day, he’d say, ‘I’m worried you’re doing too much running after your mum like this, darling. It’s not good for her to become too reliant. You need to help her become a bit more independent for her own self-worth.’

It all sounded perfectly reasonable. He was the voice of common sense in my mixed-up head.

Esme: That’s what you told yourself?

Simone: That’s what I believed.

Esme: You said that’s how it started. How did things progress?

Simone: Well, in terms of Mum, he’d organise things at times he knew I’d usually go around there. Like he’d get surprise cinema tickets for an early film showing after work when I’d normally call at Mum’s. He wrapped his need to get me away from Mum in a nice thoughtful act, so that if I complained or accused him of anything, it just made me look ungrateful.

Then, just like that, Mum stopped ringing and texting. If I made plans to go around she’d say there was no need as her neighbour was helping her out, which I always found strange because they’d never got on that well over the years.

Esme: You accepted she was OK without you?

Simone: Not at first. I went round a couple of times to make sure she was OK and she was nervy and distant like she really didn’t want me there. And she wouldn’t hear of me doing any tasks to help her out. I still made an effort to see her, but I always felt like she was kind of trying to get rid of me. Then she asked me not to keep coming around.

Esme: That must’ve been upsetting for you.

Simone: I was heartbroken. I felt so… rejected. Still, I just thought she’d got more independent, like Grant said.

Esme: But you found out differently?

Simone: Mum died about six months later and when I had to clear her flat, I found a letter addressed to me. In it she said that Grant had been round there and told her to leave me alone. He’d said that I’d had enough of running around after her but didn’t know how to tell her. He told Mum I’d been to the doctor’s with depression caused by worrying about her… Sorry, I can’t…

Esme: It’s OK. Take your time. Here, I’ve got some tissues in my bag… there we go.

Simone: Thanks. It’s just hard, you know? I went around to her neighbour to ask if she had helped Mum out, and she had the grace to look guilty and said she hadn’t seen her for months before she died. She said she didn’t even know Mum was struggling with her health.

Esme: I can see that was tough for you. Did you confront Grant about what he’d done?

Simone: I did. I was hysterical and he was absolutely horrified. He cried. Can you believe it? He actually cried and said Mum must have been mentally ill and hallucinating, that he’d never do anything so callous. Then he got angry and said Mum was cruel to do that to me… to leave a letter full of lies, as he called it. But he was particularly hurt that I chose to believe a sick old woman above him.

Esme: And what was your reaction to what he said?

Simone: I’m ashamed to say I believed him. It’s hard to explain, but he was so genuine. I know this doesn’t make any sense, but it came down to the fact that I wanted to believe him and chose to do so. It was all subconscious but I was in the grip of his control, you see. It was like I couldn’t think for myself anymore, like I’d got so used to him telling me what to think and what to feel, I just blindly accepted what he said.

Years later I met one of Mum’s oldest friends and she confided that Mum had told her the exact same story. That she’d been so upset. She told this friend she was afraid of Grant and afraid of what he might do to us both if I kept going round there. I can remember thinking ‘let sleeping dogs lie’. Mum was gone by then and so I said nothing to him. I knew he would just make me feel like it was all in my head. He did that all the time.

Esme: Gaslighting.

Simone: I hadn’t heard of that term back then.

Esme: It’s shocking to think that, over a relatively short time, he was able to destroy your strong key relationship, with your mum… almost without you noticing it was happening.

Simone: That’s the thing I find hardest to bear now, thinking about how Mum must have struggled alone… after us being so close for so long. I’ve had plenty of time to think and I’ve spent the last ten years blaming myself. How could I have just taken Mum’s word for it when she said she was OK? Why didn’t I just keep going around there to check on her, to do the things I’d always done, despite Mum insisting she was fine?

Esme: It’s a kind of brainwashing, I suppose.

Simone: There have been so many examples like that, over the years. Friendships, my job as a cook in a local school, the book club I’d been attending for three years before I met him. They all bit the dust after Grant came up with solid reasons why I shouldn’t be doing that sort of stuff any longer. All for my own good, apparently.

Esme: Sounds like the classic tactic of isolating you from friends and family.

Simone: Absolutely. I’ve had a steep learning curve since undergoing the voluntary therapy sessions here at Bronzefield. For the first two years it felt like waking up from a drugged sleep. I still can’t believe how I blindly accepted everything he told me, how he played my insecurities in his own favour. In the end I had nobody but him, you know. Nobody to turn to, nobody to stop me from drowning in anxiety and depression… nobody but him.

Esme: And this treatment… it just went on and on in your marriage?

Simone: Yes, it was one of many things I now understand he was systematically subjecting me to over time. There was the stinging criticism about almost everything: how I dressed, what I cooked for dinner, the television programmes I chose to watch. He’d keep a mental tally of every single thing I’d done wrong in his eyes, however small. Everything would be brought up as ‘evidence’ against me at key times, especially if he was deciding something like whether I deserved a new outfit or a haircut.

I can see from your expression you’re shocked. But it’s true that every single thing I did or didn’t do… it was all in his power and I didn’t even realise it. The list just goes on. Incredible, isn’t it, that I didn’t understand what was happening… that I thought everything that was wrong in my life was my own doing? Incredible and pathetic.

Esme: There are thousands of people out there who will recognise everything you’re talking about. There are thousands more who will hear this podcast and wake up to what’s happening to them, too.

Simone: I hope so. If nothing else comes of this, then just one person realising what’s happening to them… that they’re not going crazy, but someone is doing this to them. Then it will be worth it.

END OF EXTRACT

ESME

After my interview with Simone, an officer accompanied me back to the foyer of the prison. There was a small seating area there, tucked away behind a wall of artificial plants in white containers. There were people milling around but nobody in that particular space, so I sat down for a few minutes. I didn’t quite feel ready to leave the prison and Simone’s words were still replaying in my head.

I still can’t believe how I blindly accepted everything he told me, how he played my insecurities in his own favour.

I’d had a feeling this podcast was going to be a good one and I wanted to savour it while it lasted. The difficult subject matter, the truth about Simone’s marriage, had the potential to help a lot of people.

Prior to the first episode there had been some toing and froing between myself and Simone. A combination of a milestone of spending ten years behind bars and my work highlighting miscarriages of justice in Women in Prison, a popular side project I ran at my old job at Sky News, had seemed to change Simone’s mind about letting the media help her at last.

I’d always been fascinated by the case and when I started The Speaking Fox, I’d decided it would make the perfect debut podcast.

The first recording had gone well. Simone had been open and candid and I really liked her as a person. Some of the things she’d talked about grabbed me on a visceral level that I hadn’t been expecting.

Incredible, isn’t it, that I didn’t understand what was happening… that I thought everything that was wrong in my life was my own doing?

I sat for a few more minutes, just thinking about it. I felt sympathy for Simone and relief for myself that I’d never been in an abusive, controlling relationship with someone like Grant Fischer.

When I left the prison building and made my way to the car, I felt a knot of discomfort in my stomach. I couldn’t seem to put my finger on precisely what felt so wrong.

I was halfway home before the feeling began to fade.

ESME

The frantic knocking started as part of my dream. But I was soon shaken from my slumber, eyes snapping open. I glanced at the clock and felt shocked at how long we’d overslept.

Zachary had had a bad night, the first in a while, and I’d been up with him a few times. Eventually, he’d dropped off but I couldn’t get back to sleep. I’d popped in my ear pods and listened yet again to the first episode of my debut podcast series, The Fischer Files, which had aired globally just a few days ago. I’d also reflected on my thoughts about the interview afterwards. Finally, I’d slept, too.

But now the knocks downstairs morphed into thumps. Fists, instead of knuckles. Big whacking thuds on the front door.

I swung my legs out of bed at the same time as my phone lit up. Like always, I’d turned it to silent just before I went to sleep but now the screen was full of missed call notifications, text messages and voicemail alerts.

I staggered across the room and reached for the fleecy dressing gown I’d thrown over the chair before getting into bed last night.

The door opened and light from the landing flooded in.

‘Mum?’ Nine-year-old Zachary’s pyjama-clad form appeared in the doorway. His voice sounded shaky, his eyes wide with alarm. My eyes were instantly drawn to his maimed leg, cruelly silhouetted against the hall light. The thin, striped cotton of his PJ bottoms flared out and my heart squeezed in on itself.

He’d cried out in pain at two o’clock and I’d made him some warm milk. I sat up with him for two hours until the painkillers kicked in and the terrible aching in his hip joint finally faded enough for him to get some rest again.

Someone shouted through the letterbox. A man’s voice, muffled and urgent. I couldn’t decipher what he was saying.

‘Don’t worry, Zachary.’ I kept my voice light, even though my throat felt dry and my heart was racing. ‘It’ll be something and nothing, you’ll see.’

But Zachary did look worried. He’d already been through so much suffering after the accident. My boy was not stupid. He could tell from the raw panic stamped all over his mother’s face and the ferocity of the banging downstairs that there was definitely something happening.

I ran past him onto the landing. ‘You stay up here while I see what’s going on.’ I thundered downstairs.

I glanced back up and saw my son, limping without his stick. He arrived at the top of the stairs. I wanted to tell him it was OK, but that would amount to lying. It was not OK at all.

With trembling hands I unbolted the locks, top and bottom, and turned the catch. I opened the door with the chain on.

Two suited men stood on the step.

‘Esme Fox?’ the tall one asked, making an effort to soften his tone.

‘Yes?’ My voice came out as a whisper.

He held up ID. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Peter Sharpe and this is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Jon Lewis. You reported your sister, Michelle Fox, as a missing person, two days ago?’

I nodded and they glanced at each other. I knew then that they’d found her.

It wasn’t much of a party, just a few drinks in the office to celebrate the unexpected success of the first episode of the podcast a couple of days ago. Yes, we’d hoped for a decent number of downloads and it didn’t take much to make an impact. It wouldn’t take that many to get us in the top fifty percent of podcasts but what we didn’t expect was 10,000 global downloads in a matter of days after the first episode had aired.

We pushed the desks and chairs back against the wall and created a bit of space.

Michelle splashed cheap fizz into a glass and missed, stepping back and squealing with laughter. I’d seen her earlier, drinking with our researcher, Justine, at about three o’clock that afternoon. Now, it was nearly six.

I took the glass from her and carefully filled it as a new track started on the clubbing playlist Mo had put together, a booming bass beat vibrating through my body.

‘You did it,’ Michelle said, slightly too loud, too obvious. ‘It’s official, you’re a genius.’

‘We did it. The whole team.’ I smiled, then added for devilment, ‘But I suppose you’re right about the genius bit.’

We both laughed but I had this uncomfortable feeling that we were perhaps celebrating slightly prematurely. Only one episode of The Fischer Files had been produced and released. At the cutting edge of podcasting, anything could happen. Granted, the streaming numbers were beyond our wildest dreams and had created a buzz in the podcast world, but still… there was a way to go before The Fischer Files could be counted a runaway success.

I looked over and saw Toby, our new production assistant, standing alone by the drinks table. He looked so downcast, lost in his thoughts.

‘Are you actually listening to me?’ Michelle said loudly in my ear, making me jump.

‘Sorry, I was just…’ I leaned closer so I didn’t have to shout above the music. ‘Is Toby OK, do you know? He looks a bit subdued.’

Michelle rolled her eyes. ‘You just can’t help it, can you? Do you enjoy being in a state of angst, even when things are going brilliantly?’

My sister could get argumentative when she drank. I gave her one of my looks.

‘Relax, Esme. That’s all I’m saying. It’s not always up to you to fix other people’s problems. This is supposed to be your big celebration!’ She raised her glass up in the air too quickly and cava slopped over the rim.

The music dipped then disappeared completely and my production manager, Mohammed Khaleed, clapped his hands. ‘OK, people, listen up!’ The chatter died down. ‘We just had a tip-off the announcement is going live on Entertainment Radio in the next sixty seconds.’ He pressed a button and the presenter’s voice rang out.

Mo turned up the volume and Michelle squeezed my upper arm. Over by the drinks table, I noticed Toby glance at me and then help himself to another bottle of beer.

Now, here’s something you don’t hear every day. A former Sky News journalist is celebrating the global hit of her controversial investigative podcast that throws new light on the Simone Fischer case. Fischer, who stabbed her husband of twenty years to death in their kitchen while their young son played computer games in the room next door, has always steadfastly refused to give a single interview… until now.

Esme Fox, director of her own eponymous small media company, The Speaking Fox, announced plans for The Fischer Files earlier this year. Fischer has never denied killing her husband and has maintained a stoic silence since the day of his death. Even in court she refused to give details of the marriage she says drove her to act with diminished responsibility. Fischer was sentenced to life imprisonment after the trial jury came to a unanimous guilty verdict. The judge ruled she should serve a minimum of twelve years without chance of parole.

Fox spoke to Entertainment Radio and told us that The Fischer Files was produced and released only a year after leaving her job as an investigative journalist for Sky News.

Podcast listeners have unanimously described the first instalment as ‘addictive’ and ‘compulsive’ after word quickly spread via social media channels. Its mainstream appeal sent listening figures soaring into the tens of thousands, and downloads are expected to double when the second episode is released next week. Industry insiders are predicting that The Fischer Files is set to smash both podcast-streaming and downloading records.

Fox said, ‘I’m naturally beyond thrilled at the response to the first episode. I’m also truly delighted that Simone Fischer’s voice will finally be heard. Women in our society are treated particularly harshly in cases like this, and often the story of abuse and vilification that lies behind a case such as this one remains ignored. That’s happily not the case for Simone. After years of silence, The Fischer Files is finally giving her the chance to . . .