nothing happy about the perpetual uncertainty we were living in.
During the first week of January 2004, Jeremy received a further call from Hopkins who wanted to return the rest of the DVCAM tapes, but not before viewing them on the shop premises. He confessed that the police did not own the equipment that would enable them to see the tapes and, as budgets were tight, were not able to allocate funds to hire the appropriate recorder. Jeremy explained to Hopkins that viewing all the tapes on our machinery would wear the heads out as there were hundreds of them and these machines were expensive to replace. ‘There are ways and means,’ he replied. Jeremy asked what he meant by that and asked, ‘Do you mean just looking at a few tapes?’, to which Hopkins replied, ‘I didn’t say that but you are reading my mind.’ This concerned us because if this police officer was prepared to bend the rules when it came to examining tapes for evidence, what else would he be prepared to do in order to secure a prosecution?
A date was agreed and on Saturday 10 January, Jeremy and I went to the shop just before 9 a.m. in order to await the arrival of Hopkins. I was dreading it as I didn’t know how long it would take. The uncertainty of it all was nerve-racking and I began to nibble my nails, a nervous habit that I had seemed to have acquired in the last couple of months. Sometimes the pain of a torn nail into the quick gave me a sense of focus, but I came to loathe myself for it.
Jeremy seemed to be fairly calm until he started chatting at a rate of knots about nothing in particular. It was strange how our nervous reactions to stress manifested themselves, he with his constant chatter and me with my bitten fingernails. Even when Hopkins finally arrived Jeremy continued chatting like this, talking to him like he was a lifelong friend and I felt a great desire to get hold of his shoulders and tell him to shut up.
I was not happy to be asked to get Hopkins a cup of coffee but in my head I turned it around and told myself it was to support Jeremy. There was something about Hopkins that made me distrust him; he was far too familiar with Jeremy and I didn’t like that he was addressing him by his first name. I remained quiet while Jeremy set up the editing machine and Hopkins selected twelve tapes at random to view. One that he was particularly interested in had the name ‘Ian Siggery’ on the case, the name of a bridegroom. He asked Jeremy if this person was a police officer and he confirmed that he was, which interested Hopkins even more because apparently he was known as ‘Siggers’ among his colleagues. It was one of the tapes he wished to view but Jeremy said he would prefer it if he would choose another as Ian Siggery’s wife was the daughter of a friend of mine. Hopkins seemed a little annoyed and I think he came close to insisting that he see it but backed down, although I was disheartened that there was now a link back to someone we knew. How long would it be before my friend found out about Jeremy’s arrest and pass this information on to others, especially as we were both members of the localresidents’ association? We would have to mention this particular point later to Jeremy’s solicitor.
Jeremy was still rambling away about all and sundry and was sitting too far away from me for me to give him a big elbow in the ribs. I knew he was nervous and his assisting Hopkins was all about being as helpful as possible in the hope that it would get this dreadful misunderstanding sorted out and finished with quickly so that we could all get on with our lives. However, the constant chatter was not just restricted to Jeremy; Hopkins too was going on about his career and interests. It was all so tedious. I wanted him out of the shop as soon as possible but I had to listen to him drone on about being in the army and then going into the police force. Then we had to endure hearing about his hobbies such as bird watching, how he had
During the first week of January 2004, Jeremy received a further call from Hopkins who wanted to return the rest of the DVCAM tapes, but not before viewing them on the shop premises. He confessed that the police did not own the equipment that would enable them to see the tapes and, as budgets were tight, were not able to allocate funds to hire the appropriate recorder. Jeremy explained to Hopkins that viewing all the tapes on our machinery would wear the heads out as there were hundreds of them and these machines were expensive to replace. ‘There are ways and means,’ he replied. Jeremy asked what he meant by that and asked, ‘Do you mean just looking at a few tapes?’, to which Hopkins replied, ‘I didn’t say that but you are reading my mind.’ This concerned us because if this police officer was prepared to bend the rules when it came to examining tapes for evidence, what else would he be prepared to do in order to secure a prosecution?
A date was agreed and on Saturday 10 January, Jeremy and I went to the shop just before 9 a.m. in order to await the arrival of Hopkins. I was dreading it as I didn’t know how long it would take. The uncertainty of it all was nerve-racking and I began to nibble my nails, a nervous habit that I had seemed to have acquired in the last couple of months. Sometimes the pain of a torn nail into the quick gave me a sense of focus, but I came to loathe myself for it.
Jeremy seemed to be fairly calm until he started chatting at a rate of knots about nothing in particular. It was strange how our nervous reactions to stress manifested themselves, he with his constant chatter and me with my bitten fingernails. Even when Hopkins finally arrived Jeremy continued chatting like this, talking to him like he was a lifelong friend and I felt a great desire to get hold of his shoulders and tell him to shut up.
I was not happy to be asked to get Hopkins a cup of coffee but in my head I turned it around and told myself it was to support Jeremy. There was something about Hopkins that made me distrust him; he was far too familiar with Jeremy and I didn’t like that he was addressing him by his first name. I remained quiet while Jeremy set up the editing machine and Hopkins selected twelve tapes at random to view. One that he was particularly interested in had the name ‘Ian Siggery’ on the case, the name of a bridegroom. He asked Jeremy if this person was a police officer and he confirmed that he was, which interested Hopkins even more because apparently he was known as ‘Siggers’ among his colleagues. It was one of the tapes he wished to view but Jeremy said he would prefer it if he would choose another as Ian Siggery’s wife was the daughter of a friend of mine. Hopkins seemed a little annoyed and I think he came close to insisting that he see it but backed down, although I was disheartened that there was now a link back to someone we knew. How long would it be before my friend found out about Jeremy’s arrest and pass this information on to others, especially as we were both members of the localresidents’ association? We would have to mention this particular point later to Jeremy’s solicitor.
Jeremy was still rambling away about all and sundry and was sitting too far away from me for me to give him a big elbow in the ribs. I knew he was nervous and his assisting Hopkins was all about being as helpful as possible in the hope that it would get this dreadful misunderstanding sorted out and finished with quickly so that we could all get on with our lives. However, the constant chatter was not just restricted to Jeremy; Hopkins too was going on about his career and interests. It was all so tedious. I wanted him out of the shop as soon as possible but I had to listen to him drone on about being in the army and then going into the police force. Then we had to endure hearing about his hobbies such as bird watching, how he had
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