Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (87)

Peterson stared, and the bloke nodded at him in acknowledgement. He could see Erika was embarrassed.

‘Morning,’ said Peterson. ‘Is everything okay?’

The guy said something to Erika that he couldn’t understand, and Peterson realised they were speaking Slovak. Erika muttered something back to him which looked like she was saying thank you.

‘This is Igor, Igor this is James,’ she said. There was a honk from behind the delivery van, and Peterson saw Moss had just driven through the barrier and was trying to get into the car park but the Argos lorry was blocking her.

‘I have to go, can you help her inside?’ said Igor in English to Peterson.

‘Sure.’

‘Bye. You call me, and take those painkillers,’ said Igor to Erika.

‘Yes,’ said Erika.

‘And if you have a shower, put a bag over your foot,’ he said and he leant over to kiss her on the cheek. Peterson noticed that Erika didn’t look too happy about the kiss but she didn’t shrink away from it either.

‘Bye, have a good day and thanks again,’ she said to Igor.

Erika limped over to Peterson, leaning on the crutches, as Igor got back into the lorry, slowly backed it out of the car park, and then drove off with a wave. Moss pulled into the car park and came to a stop beside them, rolling down her window.

‘What’s happened to you, boss?’ she said, looking at Erika on her crutches. ‘And why were you being delivered to work in an Argos lorry?’ she added. Peterson looked at Erika; he could see that she didn’t want to explain the Argos delivery man.

‘I stood on a broken bottle at home,’ she said. ‘A stupid accident. The cat broke the bottle.’

‘Shouldn’t you be resting?’ asked Moss, peering out of the window down at Erika’s bandaged foot.

‘I’m fine. They stitched it up, and I have strong painkillers… I’ll see you in the incident room.’

She limped off on her crutches, and Moss raised an eyebrow at Peterson.

‘Do you know who the bloke was?’ she asked quietly. Peterson shook his head. ‘Never mind. I’ve got an Argos catalogue in the glove compartment. I’ll see if I can find him in there,’ she added with a smile. ‘And since when has she had a cat?’

‘No idea.’

‘Good on her,’ said Moss. And she drove off to park her car. Peterson saw that Erika was struggling to get up the front steps to the main entrance and he ran to help her.

*

Erika was cringing from the encounter she’d just had outside, but when she got into the reception area and up to the front desk, she soon forgot her discomfort. The officer on duty told her that Charles Wakefield had been discharged from hospital in Hove, and he’d been placed in a cell in the custody suite. Moss and Peterson came through the door into the reception area and joined Erika at the desk.

‘What about his solicitor?’ asked Erika.

‘We’ve just called him. He should be here in an hour,’ said the desk sergeant.

‘Thanks,’ said Erika. She took out her car keys. ‘And could you arrange someone to bring my car from outside my house to the station.’

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ said the desk sergeant.

‘Whose solicitor?’ asked Moss.

‘Charles Wakefield is downstairs in a cell.’

‘Bloody hell. Good work. When do you want to have a crack at him?’

‘As soon as his solicitor gets here,’ said Erika.

Moss moved to the door and buzzed them inside the station. Erika limped in after her, with Peterson shadowing her.

‘Are you sure you’re okay, boss?’ asked Moss. ‘You look a bit green around the gills.’

‘I’m fine,’ snapped Erika, hating how people treated you differently if you were injured. ‘Sorry. You go on, you go ahead,’ she added. They both nodded and went off along the corridor towards the incident room while Erika limped along after them.

She’d had to wait for three hours in A&E with Igor before her foot was stitched up, and she’d been glad of his company during the wait. It had made her feel like someone cared. When they reached the incident room, Moss and Peterson looked back and she waved that she was okay.

‘Do you want coffee?’ called Moss down the corridor.

‘Please, a strong one you can stand your spoon up in,’ said Erika. She saw she was next to the toilets and she hobbled inside. She stopped at the row of sinks and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look too bad, but her night with Igor and then their adventure in hospital had taken her head out of the case. She hadn’t expected to be questioning suspects today, let alone Charles Wakefield, and she didn’t feel ready.

She balanced her metal crutches on the edge of the sink and leant over to splash her face with cold water. Just shifting her weight forward onto the front of her foot unleashed a new explosion of pain in her stitches. She’d been given a week’s prescription of co-codamol, a strong painkiller, but she could already feel the tablet she’d taken four hours ago wearing off. Her next dose shouldn’t be for another two hours, but she knew she needed to be on top of her game for Charles Wakefield. Erika pulled the packet out of her pocket, and took another of the tablets with a mouthful of water from the tap. She then smoothed down her hair with a little water and dug in her bag for the small amount of make-up she kept in there. With a bit of base and a subtle lipstick she looked more in control. She licked her finger and rubbed at a small chocolate stain on the sleeve of her black jacket. Satisfied that it would do, she grabbed her metal crutches and made her way slowly to the incident room, looking forward to a shot of caffeine to supplement the super-strength painkillers.