Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (26)

‘Two of these stab wounds punctured her left lung, another hit the subclavian artery, as I suspected, which is a major blood vessel located in the thorax.’ Isaac indicated the chest area. ‘This major artery carries oxygen-rich blood from the heart to parts of the upper body, including the arms, head and neck. The subclavian arteries are on both sides of the body,’ said Isaac, indicating on both sides of his neck down into his chest. ‘There were two further stab wounds on the right side of the chest, and one of these punctured the superior vena cava which is a major artery connected to the heart. This, along with the stab to the subclavian artery, resulted in the catastrophic blood loss.’

‘How long did it take her to die?’

‘Her attacker hit two major arteries, but her heart would have remained pumping blood. If she was fighting to get away and out of the room, the rate of blood loss would have increased with her heart rate. It would still have taken several minutes.’

Erika looked back at the young woman. The minutes must have felt like hours for her, scared and bleeding to death.

‘You said you thought she was rolled up into the mattress of the sofa bed?’

‘Yes. Both of her shoulders were dislocated, and her neck is broken. I think her attacker bound her wrists when she was on the bed, and then he rolled her up in the mattress with the bedframe, and he used his weight to trap her inside. I think he was crouching on top as he stabbed at her through the mattress. His weight bearing down on her body rolled up inside would have caused her shoulders to dislocate and her neck to break.’

Erika had to take a deep breath and focus. This poor woman’s death had been horrific.

She took her phone from her pocket and scrolled through to find the photo of Vicky from the acting website. Isaac came around the table to join her, and Erika put her phone screen with the photo of Vicky next to the woman’s face on the post-mortem table.

‘The nose is similar. So is her hairline, but her lips are thinner and the eyes have a more almond-like shape, almost cat-like,’ he said.

‘Do you have any idea who she is?’ asked Erika.

‘No.’

Erika let out a long exhale. ‘I now have an unidentified body, and a missing person.’





17





‘Would you like to come and get some coffee?’ asked Isaac, when they were outside in the morgue car park.

‘That would be perfect right now, but I have to tell Tess Clarke that this body isn’t her sister. I don’t want to wait until morning.’

‘I understand,’ said Isaac. Erika took out her phone and the camera activated to unlock the screen with facial recognition.

‘Oh my God, that’s not pretty,’ said Erika, seeing how old she looked, illuminated by the orange-tinged floodlights in the car park.

‘You don’t look old. It’s just bad lighting,’ said Isaac.

‘I know you’re lying, but thanks.’

‘I’ve disabled the facial recognition on my phone.’

‘Are you worried about the security aspect?’

‘No. I just don’t like seeing myself up that close!’

Despite the bleakness of her visit to the morgue, Erika laughed.

‘Listen. I’ll take you up on that coffee. Come over one night this week and see the new house, you’re only around the corner,’ said Erika. Isaac smiled and gave her a hug.

‘Okay. I will. Don’t work too hard. I’ll see you soon.’

After Erika said goodnight to Isaac in the morgue car park, she sat in her car, and stared into the middle distance for a long moment, thinking of the young woman and the horrific violence she’d endured, and shed a quiet tear. A loud whip-crack made her jump, and then another, as two large raindrops hit the windscreen. There was a moment of pause and then the sky opened and the car was pummelled with rain. She looked through the rippling windscreen at the giant chimney belching out black smoke against the orange sky.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Erika tried to arrange the thoughts in her tired brain. She had to tell Tess Clark, that was a priority. And then they would have to identify this poor young woman, and find out what she was doing in Vicky Clarke’s bed. Vicky was now a missing person, and whoever killed this unidentified woman now had a greater head start. And, of course, now Isaac had narrowed down the window for the time of death, it meant that Charles Wakefield or Shawn Macavity would have had a much smaller window of time to commit the murder. But who exactly were they now in the frame for killing? This case was now a mess, and Erika hated messy.





Erika drove over to Blackheath, and with a heavy heart, knocked on Tess Clarke’s front door. They lived in a squat terraced house in a road which looked down over the heath.

There was a rattle of keys and Fiona, the Family Liaison Officer, opened the door. She wore a grey towelling dressing gown over a pair of royal blue pyjamas.

‘What are you doin’ here so late?’ she said. Fiona’s mouth was always grim-set with a jowly dissatisfaction, as if she’d been forced to consume a diet entirely of lemon juice.

‘Are Tess and her husband home?’

‘Yes. It would be helpful to know what’s going on?’

‘Please can you get them to come downstairs,’ said Erika. She stepped inside, past Fiona, and closed the front door.