Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (83)

Erika pulled out her phone and rang Crane back.

‘Crane. I want to arrest Charles Wakefield and bring him in. I’m going to send you the address of the crematorium. We’ll do it after the service, and try to do it quietly without disturbing the family. I need you to arrange backup from local police.’

‘What about Melanie?’ he asked.

‘I’m the lead officer on this case. I’ll worry about Melanie. Just get me two uniformed officers and a backup car,’ said Erika.





54





Worthing crematorium was outside the town, and set amongst beautiful grounds. As they passed the tall trees and open fields down the long driveway, Erika saw that it might be difficult to make a quiet arrest. She’d hoped that the crematorium would be in a more built-up area.

‘This used to be a stately home, before they demolished it and turned it into a crematorium,’ said Moss. The sky was now clear and as the long driveway turned to the right, the trees parted and they saw the long, low crematorium building with a flat white roof. To their left and right were rows of tombstones, a lone mourner, and an older lady in a thick beige coat was placing a posy of flowers on a small square grave. A crow watched her from his perch, four stones across. It seemed so peaceful, and the idyllic scene was only marred by the sight of the long chimney rising up from the crematorium where the furnace was pumping a stream of dark smoke into the sky.

‘I hate these places, the contrasts,’ said Moss. ‘I remember my gran’s funeral. We all stood mingling in the lovely grounds after the service, chatting about her, but no one wanted to mention that the black pouring out the chimney and the burning smell was her.’

Erika looked across at Moss, surprised that she would mention something so negative. Moss was usually unflappable.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Me? Course,’ said Moss, sitting up and taking a big breath.

As Erika turned the corner, they emerged into a gravel courtyard. There was already a police car parked up by the main entrance and two young uniformed officers were standing in front with their arms folded.

‘No, no, no. I wanted plain clothes, subtle!’ said Erika, guiding the car into a spot far away from the main entrance. The two guys had a stance about them, as if they were primed for action. ‘These clowns are going to cause a commotion.’

‘Heads up, everyone is coming out now,’ said Moss, pointing to the main entrance, where Cilla, Colin and Ray were standing at the top of the steps. Cilla was between them, her hands hooked into their arms. She took a tissue from her pocket to dab her eyes. A moment later, more of the mourners started to file out behind them, filling the large wide set of stone steps down to the car park.

Erika could see the two policemen were the kind of belligerent male officers that rang alarm bells in her head. She was no stranger to belligerency herself, but these guys looked primed for a confrontation. The taller of the two pushed himself off the side of the car where he’d been leaning his hip, and straightened his hat. He checked his belt to see he had his cuffs and baton.

‘We need to go and talk to them, now,’ said Erika, slipping off her seatbelt. Moss did the same and they got out of the car and hurried across to the squad car. Erika fumbled to get out her warrant card as she saw Jasper and Tess emerge onto the steps with Shawn and a group of his friends.

‘I’m DCI Erika Foster. This is DI Moss,’ said Erika, keeping one eye on the mourners. Becky and Kathleen came out of the entrance, just in front of Jasper’s father Conrad, gripping onto his wife’s arm.

‘I’m Constable John Fryatt,’ said the dark-haired officer. ‘This is Constable Murray Frazer.’

Murray put a hand to his hat in a casual kind of salute, which annoyed Erika.

‘Is this the suspect?’ said Murray, a red-head with a strong jaw and bright green eyes a little close together. He held up a print-out of Charles Wakefield. It was an unfortunate choice; it was the mugshot from his previous arrest, complete with wild eyes and a bloody bandage on his face.

‘Listen. We need a quiet arrest. I want you to be prepared to wait until the mourners have dispersed, and then we’ll approach Charles Wakefield.’

‘He’s accused of sexual assault? And murder?’ asked Constable Fryatt.

‘Yes…’ Erika started to say. Then she saw both the men straighten up, like dogs about to charge. Constable Frazer held up the photo as Charles Wakefield emerged from the entrance last with Henrietta. They blinked up at the bright sky as Henrietta leant on her stick. Charles slipped on his trilby hat and then offered her his arm. Even though he was supporting Henrietta, there was something vulnerable about the way he held onto her, like a child about to be dropped off for its first day at nursery school.

Tess must have noticed them, it wasn’t hard to, and she came stalking down the steps towards Erika and Moss with the two uniformed officers. Her eyes were puffy with tears.

‘What’s this? What’s going on?’ she said, her voice high with emotion.

‘Nothing, please, we don’t want to disturb you,’ said Erika, feeling a flash of panic.

‘You park a marked police car slap bang at the bottom of the main entrance during my sister’s cremation?’ she shouted. The mourners were all starting to look over at the police car. Jasper hung back with his parents, who looked concerned. When Charles and Henrietta reached the bottom of the steps they stopped and stared. Erika saw Henrietta nudge him.