Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (4)

‘Hello?’ shouted Erika. ‘I’m a police officer!’

She rummaged around in her pocket and found her warrant card, just as the curtain parted and a small woman with black hair cut into a short bob and a severe fringe appeared in the gap. Erika couldn’t see inside the room. She held up her ID against the glass. The woman looked to be in severe shock. Her face was deathly white. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Erika Foster with the Met police. Do you need help?’ The woman swayed a little and nodded. ‘Can you let me in through the front door?’ She seemed to be working on a delay. She hesitated and then nodded again, vanishing back behind the curtain. Erika walked back to the main entrance. The lights came on, and Erika watched as the woman, who looked to be in her late forties, emerged from a door to the left, and moved unsteadily towards the glass. She was wearing a baggy pair of denim dungarees with a wine-coloured fleece jacket over the top. On her feet were a pair of green Crocs, and she had on pink fluffy socks. She was hyperventilating, her white face was clammy with sweat, and it took her a moment to find the button to unlock the door. There was a beep and a click and Erika pulled the door open.

‘Is there someone else inside the flat?’ asked Erika. The woman nodded. ‘Are they armed? Do they have a weapon?’

‘No. It’s my sister. She’s dead,’ said the woman. ‘Oh my god… She’s dead! It’s… There’s… Everywhere!’

Erika looked around the hallway. There were three doors in the corridor, and a lift and stairs at the end. The woman had come through the first door on the left.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Tess. Tess Clarke.’

‘Are you hurt, Tess?’

There was another pause as she looked down at herself. Erika noticed that the fleece she wore was grubby, and there were a couple of cigarette burns on one of the sleeves. Tess shook her head.

‘Okay. Good. Now, Tess. What’s your sister’s name?’

Tess was staring straight ahead. She was shaking, her teeth were chattering and her eyes were dilated wide like two large pools of black ink. Erika wondered if her dilating eyes indicated drug use, but it was also a symptom of severe shock. She looked around and saw that the entrance area had a rather sickly-looking yucca plant in the corner by the glass doors, and next to it was a tan leather sofa. She took Tess by the hand and led her to it. ‘Here. Sit down. Now, what’s your sister’s name?’

Tess perched on the edge of the chair and put a shaking hand to her mouth.

‘Vicky.’

‘And you’re sure there’s no one else inside the flat, apart from Vicky?’

Tess frowned.

‘I don’t think so… I only went into the living room. The bedroom is in the back,’ she said.

‘Okay. Can you wait here? I promise I’ll come back, I just need to look inside.’

Tess nodded. Erika always kept latex gloves in her pocket, a habit from entering crime scenes, and she pulled on a pair and went to the door to the flat.

The metallic smell of blood hit her nose when she stepped inside. The front door opened out into a tiny, narrow hallway with a low ceiling. There was a clean, modern-looking white tiled bathroom directly to the right. It was empty.

The living room and kitchen were combined as one. On a small sofa bed, which was opened out, lay the body of a young woman, face down in a large patch of blood. Her arms were bound behind her back. As Erika moved around she saw that the woman’s head was facing the door. She reached out and placed her fingers on her neck. Her skin was firm and cold, like putty, and there was no pulse. The sheer amount of blood on the sheets, and the fact her body lay at a strange angle, made it obvious this had been a violent attack.

Erika put her arm over her mouth, as the smell was overpowering, and skirted around the living room and the kitchen units, trying to avoid blood spots on the pale carpet. In the back corner was a closed door. She listened but couldn’t hear anything. She knew she should wait for backup, but Erika, being Erika, was impatient. She saw a wooden rolling pin sitting next to a block of knives lying on its side, and grabbed it.

Bracing herself, she opened the door, expecting to see a small bedroom with a bed, but the tiny room was completely dark inside. There was a loud crash from inside the darkness.

‘What’s happening?’ shouted Tess from the hall outside, her voice rising with panic.

Erika hesitated. Silence. She reached inside and found the light switch, and lifted the rolling pin. Fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating a small room which looked like a recording studio. There was an empty desk with just an expensive iMac computer, and two office chairs on wheels. On the wall behind the desk was a large laminated map of Greater London, and it was covered with coloured drawing pins. There were also newspaper articles stuck up around the map. Next to the door a tall metal microphone stand lay on its side. She must have knocked it over when she opened the door.

There was a window in the corner, but it was blocked off with a giant square of polystyrene. At the opposite end of the room the walls were lined with what looked like hundreds of opened-out egg boxes. In this part of the room there was a small two-seater sofa and another microphone stand, with a professional-looking microphone. A thick black curtain was pulled back, and looked like it could be pulled across, to partition off this small recording booth.

‘Hello? What’s happening?’ came Tess’s voice.