Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (6)

‘I spent all afternoon trying to find a crack whore called Doris, and when we arrested her, we discovered she likes to throw her own shit,’ she said, pulling a face.

‘That’s disgusting.’

‘I know, and I’d just bought this new from Evans.’ She indicated her smart grey trouser suit. ‘I was lucky her aim wasn’t great, but one of the poor Specials got it right in the face…’

Erika glanced back inside to check on Tess, and saw that she was now talking to an older man holding a full black bin bag. He looked like he was trying to extricate himself from the conversation.

Fran drove off, and Peterson hurried up the path, joining them as they walked back through the front entrance into the hallway.

‘I really have to get this bag in the bin,’ the old man was saying. He was completely bald, with a fleshy, jowly face. He didn’t have any eyelashes or eyebrows and his skin was very shiny. His voice tailed off when he saw Erika, Moss and Peterson.

There was a beat of silence, a brief look of panic moved over his face, and then he regained his composure.

‘Good evening. I live at flat number two,’ he said, pointing to the door at the end of the corridor.

‘What’s your name?’ asked Erika.

‘Charles, Charles Wakefield.’

‘That’s leaking,’ said Moss, pointing down at the bag, where drops of brown fluid were running out into the tiled floor.

‘Yes, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just take this outside.’

‘Let me,’ said Peterson, going to grab the bag.

‘No, it’s okay. I can do it myself,’ said Charles, pulling the bag away from him.

‘I’ll take it, so you can answer my colleague’s questions,’ said Peterson, going to grab the bag again.

‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ said Charles, taking a step back. He went to put the bag behind him and then thought better of it.

‘Is there something in there you don’t want us to see?’

‘Of course not.’

Peterson looked back at Erika. She studied Charles for a moment.

‘Mr Wakefield. The flat there is a crime scene, and the way you’re acting is giving me probable cause to want to see what you’ve got inside that bag.’

‘A crime scene!’ he asked, his small piggy eyes opening wide. ‘What’s happened?’

‘My sister,’ said Tess, breaking down again in tears.

‘Good lord, no? She’s dead?’ he said.

‘Yes!’

‘Please, Mr Wakefield. This is a crime scene. Show us what’s in the bag,’ said Erika.

‘It’s just my rubbish! Wh… wh…’ Erika could see Charles was becoming agitated. He was trying to say something but his voice choked with a stutter. ‘I… I ju… jus, wwwant to take out my rrrr… rubbish!’ His face was now red.

‘You need to give me the bag,’ said Erika, losing patience with him and holding out her hand.

‘No. No!’

Charles marched back up the corridor to his front door, leaving a trail of brown liquid. Tess was staring at him with her mouth open.

‘Jesus. This is all we need,’ said Erika wearily to Moss and Peterson.

‘You can’t come into my flat, not without a warrant!’ he said, fumbling at the door with his keys. He got the door open and went inside, slamming it shut.

‘Can you get that bag?’ Erika said to Peterson. ‘Try not to break down the bloody door, only if you need to… Actually, Moss, can you go round the back, in case he tries to jump out of the window? Do you know what’s behind the building?’ she said, addressing the last part of the question to Tess.

‘An alley. It backs onto a row of terraces in the street next door,’ she said. Peterson went to Charles’s front door, and Moss went back to the main entrance.

‘Forensics are here,’ she said.

Erika saw a large white van pulling up, and a police support van arrived seconds after it. She went back to Tess, who was now shaking.

‘She’s dead. Who would do that to her?’ she said.

‘Let me get you out of here. Come to the police support van. Tess, we’re going to take care of your sister. And find out who did this.’





4





Erika went back out to the road, where the forensics team were unloading. They were headed up by the Forensic Pathologist, Isaac Strong. He was a tall, thin man with close-cropped dark hair which was starting to show grey. His thin arched eyebrows always gave him the impression of insouciance, but he had warm brown eyes, and he’d become a good friend to Erika, as well as a trusted colleague.

‘I thought today was moving day?’ he said.

‘It was. I stumbled on this crime scene on the way back from the chip shop. I’ve got a pretty strong stomach but this one is a lot to take in. The young woman has multiple stab wounds. I’ve been in, but I only touched the door handles.’

‘Okay. I’ll get to it.’

‘It’s the ground floor flat, number one,’ said Erika. Isaac went over to his team of crime scene technicians, who were unloading silver steel boxes, lights on stands, and a stack of overalls in plastic. Another police car arrived containing two young policemen, pulling up behind an ambulance and a long line of vehicles now gathering outside the block of flats. Erika went over to the police car, and the driver rolled down his window.