Deadly Secrets (Detective Erika Foster #6)(25)

‘You’re going to report me?’

‘No! Listen to what I’m saying, you bloody idiot!’

Erika looked up at her and smiled.

‘Sorry…’ started Melanie.

‘No, it’s okay. I’ll take being called a bloody idiot over bullshit corporate language…’ She held up the card. ‘This is your therapist?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you mind me asking why you…?’

Melanie took a deep breath and sat back.

‘My first pregnancy was twins. I carried them to full term, had the baby shower, had the excited family and husband waiting in the delivery room to hold our babies… They were both stillborn.’ She took a deep breath and wiped a tear from her eye. ‘The doctors didn’t know why. I have no family history of stillbirth. It was a textbook pregnancy. The lack of reasons why it happened were devastating. I lost my faith, and I almost lost everything else. It almost destroyed me.’

‘I’m so sorry. When was this?’

‘Ten years ago, but it was a long journey to come back to normality. Of course, I never think I’ll come fully back from that place, but life is good now. So, I’m talking to you as a friend, with no judgement. Don’t crash and burn, Erika. The job isn’t worth that much. I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but I am not against you. As I said, you are one of my best officers and I want you to stay that way. I want you to go on and keep doing what you’re doing, but you need to make sure you are in the right frame of mind.’

Erika looked down at the card again. ‘Can I think about it?’

‘Sure, just don’t think about it for too long. In the meantime, go home and get some sleep. I’ll call you. And send in McGorry.’

Erika came out of the office, and closed the door. McGorry and the custody sergeant were both waiting on chairs in the corridor. They both looked in shock.

‘How did it go?’ asked McGorry, blowing out his cheeks.

‘OK. Just tell the truth, as it happened. I had to mention the chokehold on Joseph. I said it was in self-defence. I’ll be putting it all in my report.’

‘Jeans, his jeans,’ muttered the custody sergeant, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘You did your job,’ said Erika.

‘It’s not enough, though,’ he replied.

She briefly put her hand on his arm, and nodding goodbye, she left the station. When she got into her car, she saw that the Christmas presents for the twins were still on the back seat. She started the car and headed for Commander Marsh’s house.





Seventeen





Marsh lived on a smart road of large detached houses near Hilly Fields, which had a stunning view of the London skyline. The sun came out just as Erika found a parking spot outside, and it gave the snowy streets a golden hue. She hoped the Marshes were out, so she could leave the presents on the porch, but when she got to the front door she could hear the television blaring. She took a deep breath and grasped the large iron door knocker. It crashed loudly against the wood.

A moment later, Marsh opened the door. He was a handsome man in his mid-forties with short-cropped blond hair. He looked pale and drawn, and like he’d lost a lot of weight.

‘Erika,’ he said, surprised. She held up the presents.

‘I know I’m a day late, but I wanted to give these to the girls, and apologise for my no-show.’

Marsh went to say something, but Marcie appeared in the hall behind.

‘You made it. Merry Christmas,’ she said, giving Erika a hug. ‘How are you?’

Marcie was a beautiful woman, but she too had lost too much weight. Her usually glossy black hair was long and lank, and she wore heavy pale make-up, which didn’t quite disguise the two black eyes and swelling from the broken nose, still healing after the attack.

‘I’m fine,’ said Erika, feeling awkward. She and Marcie went back a long way. They’d never had an easy relationship, until Erika had rescued her two small daughters.

‘Come on, inside, out of the cold,’ Marcie said, rubbing Erika’s shoulders. ‘That coat isn’t very thick; you need more than a leather jacket in this weather!’

They took her through to the living room, which was stiflingly hot. An open fire was blazing, and next to it was a huge Christmas tree. Marcie’s father, Leonard, was snoozing in an armchair in one corner, and Marsh’s father, Alan, was asleep in another armchair by the tree.

‘Do sit down,’ said Marcie. ‘I’m just putting out a buffet lunch. I’ve got cold meats and cheeses, and some broccoli and stilton soup.’

‘Lovely,’ said Erika.

‘Can we get you a drink? Champagne?’ said Marsh.

‘Paul, keep your voice down. They’re sleeping!’ scolded Marcie in a stage whisper.

‘My voice is the same level as yours,’ he hissed.

‘No, you were bloody loud… Come and help with the food. Do excuse us, Erika.’

They left the room. Erika looked over at the two old men, red-faced and snoozing. Marcie’s dad, Leonard, was tanned and well-dressed in casual blue slacks and a checked shirt with a cravat. Alan was scruffier, in old jeans and a yellow woollen jumper. Leonard shifted in his chair, coughed, and sat up, taking a moment to get his bearings. With an almost comic double take he noticed Erika.