The Girl In The Ice (Detective Erika Foster, #1)(47)

‘You too – I mean, no, I won’t.’

There was a click and a beep, and he was gone. Erika put her hand on her chest and took a deep breath. A rush of warmth flooded through her and she had to blink back the tears.

Her phone rang again in her hand. She saw it was Moss.

‘Boss. Where are you?’ she said.

‘Home.’

‘You’re not gonna believe this. Another body has been discovered. This time in the water at Brockwell Park.’

‘Is there an ID on the victim?’ asked Erika.

‘Yes. It’s Ivy Norris.’





30





The Brockwell Park and Lido in Dulwich was less than three miles from the Horniman Museum, where they’d discovered Andrea’s body. Erika hurtled past the clock tower, which was lit up and showing it was ten-fifteen. Large drops of rain burst on the windscreen and rapidly became a downpour. Erika flicked on the wipers and leaned forward to see through the whirling water. Two uniformed officers swam into view, standing beside a cordon at the lido entrance. Erika came to a lurching stop, and emerged into the rain, which was roaring as it hit the surrounding parked cars.

‘DCI Foster,’ shouted Erika above the noise and holding up her ID. The officers lifted the tape and she passed through.

The park and lido were popular in the summer for swimming and picnics, but in the darkness of a rain-lashed January night they were bleak and depressing. Moss and Peterson were waved through the police tape just behind Erika, bringing a powerful torch, its beam illuminating their way along a series of concrete paths, past a boarded-up ice-cream hut and a pavilion with its paint peeling away. They emerged into a clearing, unable to make out anything. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning lit up the vast open-air swimming pond. Up ahead was the glowing outline of a large white forensics tent. A path of polythene had been marked out along the muddy water’s edge. Three crime scene assistants in white overalls were kneeling in the mud, working fast to take an impression of a set of footprints. A crime scene officer met them at the tent, and they quickly suited up as the rain continued to roar on the canvas.

A bright halogen light shone down on the still form of Ivy Norris. She lay on her back in the mud, amongst a churned up mess of brown, smearing her clothes and body.

‘Please stand on the boxes,’ said a CSI, indicating where a series of platforms had been placed around the body to preserve evidence in the mud underneath.

They approached Ivy’s body, moving from platform to platform until they were at her side. Her greasy hair was pulled back from her yellowing face and her face was frozen in the same wide-eyed fear as Andrea. Her nose had been flattened amongst a mess of clotted blood. She wore the coat and jumper Erika had seen her in a few days previously, but she was naked from the waist down. Her legs were painful to look at: emaciated, with clusters of scars, bruises and needle marks. Her pubic hair was grey and matted.

A crime scene photographer took a picture and the tent was filled with a flash and a high-pitched squeal. Isaac Strong stood silently on one of the boxes. He nodded at them all.

‘Who found her?’ asked Erika.

‘A group of kids who’d climbed the fence for a dare.’

‘Where are they now?’

‘Your officers are with them at the community centre over the road. We’ve already taken DNA.’

‘Did they see anything?’ asked Erika.

‘No. It was dark. One of the boys tripped over her body and fell.’

‘He must have been terrified,’ said Moss, looking down at Ivy.

‘Her nose is broken. I think her cheekbone also. There are extensive ligature marks on her neck,’ said Isaac, crouching down and gently pulling down the folds of Ivy’s sweater. ‘I also think four ribs are broken; I’ll have more idea about internal damage when I conduct my autopsy. She was carrying a hundred pounds in cash. The notes were folded inside her bra.’

‘So we could rule this out as a random assault or robbery?’ asked Moss.

‘I don’t want to be drawn on that until I’ve done my autopsy. But obviously when a body is left with money, it indicates that robbery wasn’t on the assailant’s mind. Sex was, though. On a first examination, there is semen present in her vagina.’

‘Ivy was a well-known prostitute,’ explained Moss.

‘Perhaps whoever did this had lured her with the cash?’ added Peterson.

‘We can’t assume because of that, that the sex was consensual,’ said Isaac sternly. ‘There is extensive bruising around the pelvic area.’

‘Where are her arms?’ Erika asked, dreading for a moment that they’d been hacked off.

‘Her arms are bound behind her back,’ said Isaac. One of his assistants approached and carefully lifted Ivy from the mud; both arms had been pulled tight under her body. They were slick with mud and stones. Isaac wiped at her wrists with a gloved finger.

‘See? They've been bound using a plastic tie, often used in industry or product packaging.’

‘What about her shoes?’ asked Erika, seeing Ivy’s feet, which were mud-splattered and swollen with a map of broken veins and long dirty toenails.

‘We found them in the mud,’ said Isaac. ‘There are also patches of hair missing from each temple. They look to have been pulled out at the root.’