The Girl In The Ice (Detective Erika Foster, #1)(67)

Giles stood and went to the glass door. ‘Thank you, officers, but I came into my office today to remember Andrea, and write about her life. I have been asked to speak at her funeral, and you come here and sully my memories of her with hardcore pornographic photos!’ He opened the door and indicated that they leave.

‘Sir, we believe that the man pictured with Andrea is also involved in the killing of three Eastern European girls who worked as prostitutes, and the murder of an elderly lady. We also believe that Andrea was with this man on the night she died,’ explained Erika. She looked at Moss. Giles saw their exchange.

‘Hang on. What about Marco Frost? I thought he was your man? Chief Superintendent Marsh assured me, and Assistant Commissioner Oakley . . .’ said Giles.

‘This is another line of enquiry we are pursuing,’ said Erika.

‘So you really have no idea who killed Andrea? Yet you come over here hassling me, on a hunch? Andrea was a flawed human being, and she had secrets. But all she did was love, all she wanted was to love . . .’ Giles broke down, heaving and sobbing. He put his hand to his mouth. ‘I just can’t take this much longer. Please! Leave!’

Erika and Moss went back to the table, gathered up the photos and left, leaving Giles to sob.



‘Oh fuck,’ said Moss, when they came back to the car parked a few roads away.

‘I said it, not you,’ said Erika.

‘Boss, I have to go and report this all to DCI Sparks, and Marsh.’

‘I know. And that’s fine.’

Moss dropped Erika home and despite all that had happened, all the revelations, Erika felt no closer to the truth, and very far away from being reinstated and getting her badge back. When she came into her living room she switched on the light, seeing herself and the image of the room reflected back in the window. She went to the light and turned it off. She peered out of the window and down into the deserted street, but everything was still. Quiet.





44





Over the next two days, Moss and Peterson had to appear in court and give evidence in the case involving an armed gunman at the supermarket in Sydenham. Much of the original investigative team into Andrea’s death had been reassigned, now that Marco Frost had been charged with her murder. Erika was stuck in limbo, awaiting her misconduct hearing. She’d had a call from Marsh that morning.

‘Did you and Moss visit Linda Douglas-Brown and Giles Osborne?’ he demanded.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I’ve had complaints from them both, and Sir Simon is threatening to make a formal complaint.’

So you answer their calls, but not mine? Erika wanted to say. She bit her lip. ‘Sir. I was there as an advisor to Moss; in both instances I wasn’t asked to produce identification.’

‘Leave it out, Erika.’

‘Sir, you are aware we recovered Andrea’s second mobile phone?’

‘Yes, I’m aware. Moss filed her report.’

‘And?’

‘And, you withheld evidence. The note you received.’

‘But the note, sir . . .’

‘The note could have come from several places. Think back to your colleagues in Manchester. There’s still a great deal of anger towards you . . .’ Marsh tailed off. ‘I’m sorry. That was unfair . . . I think, Erika, that you need to let this go.’

‘What? Sir, have you seen the pictures?’

‘Yes, I’ve seen the pictures, and I’ve read Moss’s report very carefully. Although I can hear your voice when I read it. It still proves nothing, you have no grounds whatsoever to prove that this . . . person, whoever he is, was involved in the deaths of Andrea or Ivy.’

‘Or Tatiana, or Karolina, or Mirka?’

‘What you have succeeded in doing is pissing off a lot of people and metaphorically pissing on the memory of Andrea Douglas-Brown.’

‘But sir, I didn’t take those pictures she . . .’

‘She had a secret phone for God’s sake! Everyone has secrets.’

‘I take it this conversation is off the record?’

‘Yes, it is, Erika. And I must remind you that you are off the record. You are suspended. Now, be sensible. Enjoy the full pay. I have it on good authority that if you lay low and keep your mouth shut, you’ll be reinstated next month.’

‘Lay low, until what? Marco Frost goes down for something he didn’t do?’

‘Your orders—’

‘Come from who?’ she said, cutting him off. ‘Do they come from you, or Assistant Commissioner Oakley, or Sir Simon Douglas-Brown?’

Marsh was silent for a moment.

‘It’s Andrea Douglas -Brown’s funeral tomorrow. I don’t want to see you there. And I don’t want to hear you’ve been poking your nose in anywhere else. And when this is over, and if you are reinstated, I’m going to make sure you’re transferred to nick a long, long way away. Have I made myself clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Marsh hung up. Erika sat back on the sofa. Fuming. She cursed Marsh, and then herself. Had she lost the plot? Were her instincts off on this one?

No. They weren’t.

She had a cigarette and then went to pick out something suitable for a funeral.