Deadly Secrets (Detective Erika Foster #6)(29)

‘Alright. Morning,’ he said, recovering his composure. It was Detective Inspector Peterson.

Moss looked between Erika and Peterson, trying to work out what to say. ‘Bloody hell. He’s finally back at work!’

He nodded and flashed his warrant card, giving them a big grin which made his serious face goofy.

‘You’re looking much better,’ said Erika. It was a surprise to see him. A nice surprise, she realised. ‘Did you have a good Christmas break?’

‘It wasn’t a break really; it was more of a countdown so I could get back to work… It turned out to be… Well, it was one of the best Christmases ever.’

‘Care to elaborate?’ asked Erika, wondering if he had met someone else, and then wishing she hadn’t asked.

‘This is officially my first day back at work,’ he said, changing the subject. There was an awkward silence.

‘You’ve picked a good day. I’m briefing in five minutes down in the main incident room. Don’t be late.’ Erika picked up her mug and left.



* * *



Moss and Peterson stood in silence for a moment. Moss went to the door and checked Erika was out of earshot.

‘Did you see her over Christmas?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘Are things going to be okay with you two? I can’t be stuck in the middle of two of my favourite people.’

‘Am I one of your favourite people?’ he grinned.

‘Sometimes. Depends. You should have called her on Christmas Day. I know you two have broken up, but she ended up working. She was meant to take the day off… You know she’s a lonely old bird, and I mean that in the nicest sense. I invited her over to mine, but she didn’t want to intrude.’

‘I was going to go over and see her, and then something… happened,’ said Peterson. ‘I’m still trying to process it.’ He smiled and shook his head.

‘I can see by your face that it was something good?’ said Moss.

He went to the door and closed it. ‘Make me a cup of coffee, and I’ll tell you,’ he said.





Twenty





The meeting was held in the largest incident room on the ground floor of the station.

Erika stood in front of a huge map of London, which was three metres square, the maze of roads blending under the North and South Circular and the M25 forming increasing circles around central London, and the thick blue lines of the River Thames snaking across the centre. Twenty officers and civilian support staff had been called to work on the Marissa Lewis case, and it was the first time since Christmas Day that they had all been called back to one place.

The team included officers Erika had worked with before: Sergeant Crane, a pleasant-faced officer with thinning sandy hair; Moss and Peterson, who she noted were still getting coffee; McGorry and Kay, who were sorting out their desks – they both nodded and smiled at Erika as she passed. Detectives Knight and Temple were working with PC Singh, a small and fiercely intelligent officer, to collate the information about the case onto the whiteboard.

Superintendent Hudson slipped into the briefing and closed the door, taking a position perching on a desk at the back. She nodded and smiled.

‘Good morning, everyone,’ started Erika. ‘I hope you all had a good Christmas, and sadly it’s over all too quickly…’ She went to an ID picture of Marissa Lewis, taken from her passport. ‘Twenty-two-year-old Marissa Lewis was murdered on the doorstep of her house on Coniston Road in South London. I’m still waiting on details of the post-mortem, but time of death has been estimated as late on Christmas Eve…’ The door opened, and Moss and Peterson filed in, carrying their mugs of coffee. Moss mouthed an apology to Erika, so did Peterson, and they took their seats next to a photocopier underneath the long line of windows looking out over the corridor. ‘Thanks for joining us. I didn’t know it took that long for instant coffee to brew.’

‘Sorry, Boss,’ said Moss, looking mortified. Peterson stared down guiltily at his mug.

Erika went on, ‘Marissa Lewis was slashed repeatedly with a sharp serrated blade.’ Erika indicated the pictures on the whiteboard, the close-up photos taken of the injuries on the dead body. ‘At this stage, we don’t have a murder weapon. But we do know from early forensic reports from inside the house that the crime scene was confined to the area in the small front garden. There is no evidence of blood spatter, or Marissa’s blood inside the house. We’re also waiting on more detailed results from forensics, and on the post-mortem…’

‘Does that rule out Marissa’s mother being involved?’ asked McGorry.

‘No. It just means if she did kill Marissa, she would have cleaned herself up, and disposed of whatever she was wearing before going back into the house. No one is being ruled out this early in our investigations. Everyone is a suspect.’

Erika went on to explain everything that had happened with Joseph Pitkin, and his suicide the day before in custody. There was a moment of silence. Suicides in custody were a terrible reminder of how vulnerable prisoners could be.

‘At this stage, we are still treating Joseph Pitkin as a person of interest to this case. I feel that we need to arm ourselves with more evidence before we ask his family for any more information. We have video and photo evidence, taken from his mobile phone, that he had some kind of relationship with the victim. On several occasions, mostly at night, he filmed her covertly, when she was at home, in her bedroom. I believe that at some point she became aware he was filming her. We need to establish if this was something she encouraged, or if there was a reason why she allowed him to film her. There is a video of Marissa having sexual intercourse with a man who matches the description of a neighbour called Don Walpole.’