Deadly Secrets (Detective Erika Foster #6)(30)

Erika indicated some stills taken from the video, which were being pinned up to the board.

‘Don Walpole is married, in his early fifties, and is believed to have had a relationship with Marissa when she was a teenager. He also lives on Coniston Road. Another neighbour, again from the same street, is Ivan Stowalski. He also was involved with Marissa in a sexual relationship. He is in his mid-thirties, Polish, but lives in the UK with his wife. Marissa was a burlesque dancer who performed in clubs around London. She was also a carer for an elderly lady, who lives in Hilly Fields, just around the corner…’

As Erika was talking, Detectives Knight and Temple were working with PC Singh to put up photos from the case files.

‘Marissa’s mother is also someone I would like us to look at closely. She told us that she sleeps upstairs in the back bedroom, and that this was where she slept on Christmas Eve. But when we looked round the house, we saw that the back bedroom hasn’t been inhabited for some time. The bed was covered with old clothes and a layer of dust. We found bedding on the living room sofa, which is on the other side of the single-glazed and poorly-insulated window where Marissa was stabbed and killed.’

Erika paused and let everyone digest this. She went on, ‘Christmas and Boxing Day have slowed things down, hampering our ability to do a house-to-house. Thank you to everyone here who talked to neighbours, but we are going to have to go back and do it all again. I’d like backgrounds on Marissa Lewis and the neighbours I’ve mentioned, and anyone else you discover who was part of her life. Friends, family, colleagues, burlesque clubs. We are still working on getting into her iPhone to access emails and social media. We’ve requested her phone records. A request was also put in yesterday for any CCTV footage covering the area around Coniston Road, and from Brockley train station. We need to know if she took the train home after her burlesque gig on Christmas Eve, which is the normal mode of transport she used. Sergeant Crane will now be tasked with delegating tasks. We need to go back to the beginning and we’re playing catch up from the Christmas break.’

The room sprang to life, and Erika went over to Moss and Peterson.

‘Sorry, again, Boss,’ said Moss.

‘Welcome back, James,’ said Erika. She seemed to take him off-guard.

‘Thanks,’ he said, standing up.

Several other officers and support staff came and patted him on the back, and welcomed him back before they dispersed around the incident room.

‘You look good. I mean, you’ve put a lot of weight back on,’ Erika said, correcting herself. ‘You look like your old self again.’

‘I still need to put on a few more pounds,’ he said, opening his jacket and hitching up his trousers. ‘But I’m feeling back to normal.’ He slapped his flat stomach.

‘Leave it out, you’re putting us all to shame!’ grinned Crane, slapping his own beer belly.

‘Speak for yourself!’ said Moss, grabbing at her ample stomach. ‘I’m just big boned.’

‘Okay, okay you lot, let’s focus. I figured that as you’ve only just returned to work, you’d want to stay desk-bound and ease yourself in?’

Peterson nodded. ‘I’ll need a new login for Holmes; I’m told mine is no longer active, cos I’ve been off for so long.’

‘OK. Get Crane to put in a call about your login.’ Erika smiled at him and he smiled back, their eyes locking for a moment. Then he looked away. ‘Moss, I want you with me; James, I want you to work on building us a profile of Marissa Lewis, and work to untangle her life.’

He nodded and went off, leaving Erika with Moss, who had been watching her.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Things seem cool between you, which is… Cool. Where are we going?’

‘I want to talk to Marissa’s best friend.’





Twenty-One





Erika arranged to meet Sharon-Louise at the Brockley Jack pub, a little way down from the hair salon where she worked – which was still closed on the 27th of December. It was snowing again as they drove through Crofton Park, but the temperature had warmed up a bit, turning it to slush on the road. They passed the train station, a Co-Op and some shops, before seeing the sign for the Goldilocks Hair Salon.

‘Why do hair salons always go for pun-tastic names?’ asked Moss, peering in at the garish white-and-gold interior decor as they passed. ‘When I was growing up, I used to go to “Herr Kutz”, but the owner wasn’t German. And during my training at Hendon, there was a “Curl up and Dye”.’

‘Is that relevant?’

‘Don’t you have that in Slovakia? Hairdresser names with puns?’

‘No.’

‘The clientele is often working class – nothing wrong with that, of course – but they’re ladies who like to look after themselves. I bet it has lots of regulars who like a gossip, not like a central London stuck-up place.’

‘You think this Sharon-Louise likes a gossip?’

‘Hairdressers hear everything,’ Moss said. ‘Don’t you end up saying far too much when you get your hair cut? I know I feel obliged to chat.’

‘When I get my hair cut, which is not that often, I ask them not to talk to me,’ said Erika.

‘I bet you do,’ muttered Moss with a grin.