Nine Elms (Kate Marshall #1)(66)

A motorbike roared past, its engine going right through them and masking the conversation.

“This is not a good place to talk. Can we take you to the police station in Exeter? It’s only four miles away,” asked Varia. Kate nodded. “Do you want us to call a doctor?” she added, her forehead creased with concern. She was still holding Kate’s freezing hand and rubbing it between hers. This was a much softer side to Varia than Kate had seen.

“She could do with a brandy. Always works for shock,” said John to Tristan. Kate agreed with him. It would be the perfect excuse to have a drink. To just drink herself into delicious oblivion.

“No! No alcohol. Let’s get her a strong hot cup of tea,” said Tristan.



They drove in convoy to the Exeter police station, and they were taken through to an office, where Varia and John made them all mugs of tea. Kate and Tristan sat on a large sagging sofa, and Kate took a long gulp of the tea, which she was pleased had been sweetened. She took a deep breath and began to think clearly.

“Who touched the letter?” asked Varia.

“I took it out from under the windscreen,” said Kate.

“I had a look. She passed it to me,” said Tristan.

“We’ll need to take both of your fingerprints so we can eliminate you when we test the note,” said Varia.

Kate nodded. “My fingerprints will be on file from when I was in the force,” she said.

“I was fingerprinted,” said Tristan.

“When you vandalized the car?” asked John.

Varia turned to John.

“I’m sure our guests would like some biscuits. There’s a packet of Hobnobs in the staff kitchen,” she said. John scowled and left the room.

Kate explained that she’d met Dr. Meredith Baxter from Great Barwell, who had shown her the written note on the picture of Jake addressed to Peter that the hospital had intercepted.

“I’ll check to see if this information has been shared with us yet,” said Varia.

“I think this person who signs themselves ‘A Fan’ is communicating with Peter Conway,” said Kate.

“But you said this letter was intercepted. Peter Conway never received it?”

Kate’s phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out, fearing that it was her mother to say something had happened to Jake.

“Oh. It’s Meredith Baxter calling,” said Kate. She answered and listened for a moment. “Meredith, I’m here with Detective Chief Inspector Varia Campbell. Yes, the lead officer on the case.” She held out her phone to Varia. “She wants to talk to you.”

“What did she say?” asked Tristan as Varia moved away with the phone.

“She says they searched the whole wing at Great Barwell. All the cells, including Peter’s, and all staff too. There was nothing. No hidden letters.”

“That’s a good thing,” said Tristan.

“I don’t like it . . . Something is going on. I can feel it in my gut.”

Varia came off the phone and handed it back to Kate.

“That was useful to talk to her. Dr. Baxter is going to send over this letter and anything else she intercepts. If anything else happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I hope you can get his DNA on that letter he left on my car,” said Kate.

“It wouldn’t prove conclusively that it’s from him,” said Varia.

“It must be from him. You haven’t released any information about the letters to the press, have you?” asked Tristan.

“No, we haven’t. But plenty of people sign letters from ‘a fan,’” said Varia.

“Come on, it’s more than a coincidence,” said Kate.

Varia got up, signifying their meeting was over.

“Kate, I’m going to have a patrol car stationed outside your house for the next few days, and we are going to study any CCTV we can get from Topsham. Although it’s a small village.”

“They’ve already stationed an officer and squad car outside my mother’s house, where my son lives in Whitstable,” said Kate.

“I’ll make sure we coordinate with them, of course.”



When Kate and Tristan left the station and headed for the car park, a local TV news reporter and camera crew were waiting. They hurried over to them, a bright light shining, and followed them to Kate’s car.

“We’ve had information that a note was left on your car from the murder suspect?” said the news reporter, a woman with very short black hair. She thrust the microphone under Kate’s nose. Kate ducked around them and made it to the car, while Tristan pushed a man with a sound boom who was blocking the passenger side. “Can you confirm what the note says and if this is linked to the Nine Elms Cannibal case you solved in 1995?”

Kate pressed the central locking button and tried to open her door. The news reporter put her hand on it.

“Do you visit Peter Conway? You have a son with him. Does Jake visit him too?”

It felt like a low blow, the news reporter naming Jake.

“Why don’t you fuck off,” said Kate, yanking her door open, knocking it into the news reporter, who lost her footing and fell. “Tristan, get in.”

When they were inside, she activated the central locking and started the engine. The news reporter was being helped to her feet as Kate honked the horn and drove toward the crew so they were forced to part. As Kate and Tristan drove out of the car park, they saw a van with BBC LOCAL NEWS written on the side.