It is with some trepidation that I write this article – my inaugural piece for Aspects of Crime – for three reasons. First, spoilers. Second, it’s personal. Third, I’ll probably end up in an argument with Charlie – and that’s not a good place to be.

I think I can deal with the spoiler concern by sticking to the titles of the books. Charlie I – If I Were Me – indicates a problem with identity. Charlie II – If We Were One – gives a clue on what that identity problem is. Charlie III – If We Were Guilty – suggests it’s all gone pear-shaped.

You’ve undoubtedly figured out these books are dependent on one another. Tackling them in order is recommended.

I’m also sure you’ve figured out from Charlie II’s title, If We Were One, the condition Charlie has is Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). It used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. I remember hearing about trials where the defendant would claim, “It wasn’t me, it was the other me,” and I thought, “What a load of bollocks.” Back in the 90’s, my older brother, Kevin, developed Bipolar. I saw someone I love change into a completely different and unrecognisable person. Please understand, Bipolar is not DID. Kevin, bright, vivacious, witty, someone whose company you’d seek, would, when he was manic, turn into someone you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near and, when he was depressed, was someone who wouldn’t want to be anywhere near you. Between his bouts of mania and depression, he was my older brother, bright, vivacious, witty, someone whose company you’d seek. Three different identities.

This prompted me to reconsider. People can change. People do change.

I considered DID and how it might contribute to a crime fiction story. I wasn’t making much headway until I came across a 2019 Australian story about a lady, Jeni Haynes, who prosecuted her father for sexually abusing her when she was a child. To cope with the trauma of that abuse, her brain formed alters to hold onto and retain the memories of that abuse. Some of these alters gave evidence at the trial. This wasn’t the defendant claiming DID. This was a prosecution witness. The point that struck me was that the statements of the alters were deemed admissible as evidence in a court where the judicial system (adversarial, presumption of innocence, burden of proof) is similar to that in the UK.

And so, Charlie was born.

Why the name, Charlie? Charlie’s the first half of the name Charlotte and I’m sure you can see where things are going from there – indeed, you’ll meet Lottie halfway through If I Were Me. There, spoilt the mid-point reveal of the first book. Then, in If We Were One, you’ll meet Floella, Jemima and Gillian. I had fun with their voices. Charlie would say, “You’re ‘avin’ a larf.” Lottie would say, “This is not something with which I would associate amusement.” Floella would say, “Who cares? Just get on with it.” Jemima would say, “It must be difficult for those poor people who don’t understand.” Gillian would say, “Why am I always mentioned last?”

Diamond Crime, my publisher, worked hard at portraying the internal dialogue between the alters in a way that distinguishes it from the narrative. I owe so much to Diamond Crime for what they’ve done to get my books fit for publication.

For me, with my background of thirty years police service with The Met, it’s the characters around Charlie who I enjoy. Sergeant Mary Cantrell who, despite being less than five feet tall, looks down on everyone. Kathy Bond, Charlie’s best mate, who has three rules for coping with this male-dominated environment. The canteen cowboy, Albert Lavender, with his garlic breath and flowery language, who regales anyone nearby with his daily exploits which, in order to make them remotely interesting, exaggerates them beyond any seriocity. Seriocity? Is that a word? Certainly a Lavender-type word. Then there’s Wade, the college boy, who doesn’t fit, Charlie hates him, a complete waste of space – until some actual thought is required. Finally, Iffy. He starts every sentence with the word if. I was a sergeant and on my team was a guy who we all called Yeah but. You might meet him in Charlie IV. (Yes, there will be a fourth in the trilogy.)

Funny thing with Lavender’s stories – they’re all true. These books are a complete fiction peppered with these true stories which I allocated to Lavender. It’s true, I really did stop a motorist for driving through a red light and, when I got him out of his car, I noticed he had an A-to-Z on his steering wheel (shows how old I am). On cautioning him, he really did reply, “I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t see the red light because I was reading my book.” You couldn’t make it up.

I may have been a policeman but I wasn’t a detective. I was uniform. The Teccos called us Lids. “My witness needs a lift home.” “Get a Lid to do that.” My mate, Phil, was a Tecco. He achieved the accolade of Squad Hopper. He had the knack of identifying, early on, the best line of enquiry on major investigations so every SIO wanted him on their team. He wasn’t popular. He was always hoiked off an investigation when it got boring (leaving all the others to do the case papers, soup reports, exhibits etc etc etc) to join a new investigation to give pointers on where to focus limited resource. I’d say to Phil, “So this has happened, that’s happened, Charlie said this, he said that, someone else said this, that and the other, then this happened, would you make an arrest?” After a bit of thought, he’d say, “Nah, ‘elpful chat.” PACE calls it a free-to-go-interview. We call it an helpful chat because free-to-go-interview sounds too much like something you’d get from a local take-away. I won’t say what he said when I went on to describe the circumstances where Charlie needed nickin’. My books don’t focus on the investigation but I needed Phil to get those investigative things just tickety-boo.

Charlie III will take you into a court room. Despite frequent court attendances, my experience of court isn’t great. When I was required to give evidence, I’d turn up, let it be known I was there, sit outside in the foyer and wait to be called. Then, the usher would emerge, call my name, I’d go in, stand in the witness box, swear the oath (Lavender would swear the oaf) answer examination-in-chief type questions, all of which were easy, be told to wait there, answer cross-examination type questions, some of which were easy, some of which were hard, be told to wait there, answer some re-examination type questions, all of which were easy, be told to wait there, look at the jury, some of whom were still awake, be thanked by the judge and told I’m released (phew!) whereupon I’d walk out and get on with some police work. So, my experience of court room procedure is somewhat limited. To counter this, I contacted an old school friend of mine, Andy, who I knew had gone into law. What I didn’t know, and was soon to find out, is that Andy’s now a High Court Judge. I probably should have bowed. He was so helpful in getting that flavour of the court room just right.

And Pauline, one of the members of my Worcester writing group, who used to work in prisons. This isn’t the spoiler you think it is. In Merry England, murder, even of paedophiles, is frowned upon. Charlie’s nicked and is on remand in custody awaiting trial. I made my fictitious prison nice and colourful which, although raising Pauline’s eyebrows, did reflect Charlie’s fellow inmates. My favourite is Cynthia, an activist who gained loads of followers by walking slowly down a motorway.

Back to Charlie III. My working title for it was If You Were Chosen. After long discussion with Diamond Crime, we all concluded that title didn’t work and decided on If We Were Guilty. Like Charlie’s jury, you, the reader, may consider yourself invited to deliberate on Charlie’s guilt. You, as a reader, have the jury at an advantage. You know she’s guilty – she’s told you so. Question is, would you find her guilty?

I love moral conundrums.

Diamond Crime have set up a forum where you may post your thoughts: www.diamondbooks.co.uk/discuss/

or

my website: www.pauldurston.com

If you do go to my website, check out Detective Inspector Burton. He loved his parents dearly but, when he inherited their narrowboat, he could have killed them.

Right. I’m off to see Charlie. Wish me luck.