Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (99)

‘Do we have any witnesses yet? Anyone who saw anything at Honeycomb Court? I have this horrible feeling he’s going to worm his way out of it.’

‘There has been another development,’ said Moss. ‘I told you we tracked down Lily Parkes. Well, we’ve interviewed her, and it turns out mathematics is not her strong suit.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘She went on record and told us she was coerced by Colin to sleep with Charles Wakefield aged fifteen, when she was still a minor. Anyway, the dates she gave us don’t match and it transpires that she was sixteen years old, almost seventeen, when she slept with him, not fifteen, as they led Charles to believe. So, although it’s still a rather disturbing concept, Charles wasn’t sleeping with someone underage in the eyes of the law. We’ve told him this, and he’s now willing to testify against Colin McCabe. He’s now saying that he caught Colin on a couple of occasions, attempting to break into the downstairs rooms of female students in Jubilee Road.’

‘Why did he keep it a secret? Why didn’t Charles report Colin when he found him?’ asked Erika.

‘We don’t know. Colin must have threatened him. Charles is mentally, very vulnerable.’

‘Will Charles get prison time for concealing evidence?’ asked Erika.

‘The CPS is looking to cut a deal, which will protect him, and Julian Wakefield.’

‘When do we think it will go to trial?’ asked Erika.

‘The CPS say they need six to eight months to build their case, so the autumn. Plenty of time for you to get back to full fitness,’ said Moss.

Erika suddenly felt relief and tiredness flood through her.

‘Maybe she needs to rest now,’ said Lenka, who had been sitting patiently in the corner, and had seen how tired Erika had become.

‘Do we know why Colin did it, why he stalked and attacked those women?’ asked Erika. Moss gave her a long look and then shrugged.

‘No. We think he did it, because he got off on it. It’s as simple, and disturbing as that. Erika nodded, and pushed the why away. She couldn’t dwell on why he did what he did. The most important thing was that they got him.

‘Thanks for coming, guys,’ she said, feeling pleased to see her colleagues. ‘And for the flowers.’

‘Everyone had signed the card,’ said Moss, ‘Isaac, and McGorry and Crane. They’re all asking about coming to see you. But for now, you rest. Just know that we got Colin McCabe, and we’re going to make sure he goes down for a long time.’

*

Five weeks later, on a cold, bright sunny December morning, Erika was discharged from hospital. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and Isaac came to pick her up. He had been a regular visitor during her stay, and she was recovering well, able to hobble small distances on her crutches. He helped her down to his car and drove her back to the new house. She was quiet on the journey and he asked her why she seemed sad.

‘I’m not sad, I’m just nervous, going home to a house full of people, and not just people. My family,’ said Erika. ‘My sister, her husband Marek, and my nieces and nephews are staying – and they’ve decorated.’

‘There’s no need to worry about that,’ said Isaac, putting up his hand and smiling. ‘I’ve been very strict with Lenka. It’s all nice, neutral and clean.’

‘And she’s invited Igor for Christmas.’

‘Igor is cute,’ said Isaac. ‘He took his shirt off to paint your kitchen and I was impressed.’

Erika smiled.

‘We had two dates and for the last few weeks he’s been visiting me in hospital, seeing me like this,’ she said, indicating her crutches. ‘I’m most excited to see George.’

‘He’s very popular with the kids,’ said Isaac. The car turned into Erika’s road, and she saw her front door had been painted, and a Christmas tree sat in the front window.

Isaac looked over at her.

‘Erika. You’re alive. You just solved a huge case, and you have a house full of people waiting who love you. Please, give me a tiny bit of Christmas cheer.’ They came to a stop outside the house. She noticed her upstairs windows now had curtains.

‘And if you need a break from all the festivities, I’m only around the corner,’ he said with a grin. He took her hand and she gripped it hard. ‘Take a deep breath.’

‘Okay, I’m ready,’ she said. He helped her out of the car, and up the steps to the front door. Erika took another deep breath and opened the door.

‘Hi, everyone,’ she said. ‘I’m home.’





A NOTE FROM ROBERT





Writing a book is a strange mix of solitude and teamwork. Thank you to my brilliant editors, Charlotte Herscher, Robin Seavill and Tom Felton. Thank you to the skilled translators from around the world who bring my work to life. Thank you to Henry Steadman for another excellent cover. Thank you also to Jan Cramer, who brings the Erika Foster audiobook editions to life in audio.

Thank you, as ever, to Team Bryndza - or as they are now known - Raven Street Publishing. Yes, we’re now a publisher, too! Janko, Vierka, Riky, and Lola. I love you so much, and thank you for keeping me going with your love and support!

An enormous thank-you goes out to the most important people, my readers. Thank you for all of the heart-warming messages you send. When I started, you were there reading and championing my books, which is still the same today. Over the last few years, what has struck me most is just how much books bring us together. I receive messages from readers who don’t do politics, and I get messages from readers who do. The thing that warms my heart in these divisive times is that the politics of my readers may vary wildly, but you all love to read the same books, and that makes me think that we aren’t so different after all. I love reading because books open doors to a different world, and everyone is welcome.