Deadly Secrets (Detective Erika Foster #6)(73)

‘Good, really good. They’re living with me on a temporary basis, until we work out what we’re going to do,’ he said.

‘I can see that you want them to stay.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you talk to Erika?’

‘I figured she’s got a lot going on with her father-in-law, and I’d rather do it face-to-face, when she’s back.’

‘Don’t let it fester. Although, I think she’s the one who’ll be doing the festering.’

‘I’ve got another video of Kyle singing,’ said Peterson, swiping through his phone, his face beaming with pride.

‘James, later. We need to concentrate.’

The lift doors opened, and they inched past the long box destined for the morgue. They came to a set of double doors for the renal ward, but they were locked. Moss peered through the glass windows.

‘Can’t see anybody. And there’s no buzzer or bell.’ She hammered on the glass with the flat of her hand. ‘Hey… HEY!’

‘Jeez, Moss, take it easy,’ said Peterson.

‘We could be here for bloody hours.’

A nurse appeared at the top of the corridor and came towards them.

‘Or, we chill out and everything is going to be okay,’ he said.

She took deep breaths and nodded. ‘I’ll be happier if his DNA is a match. Don Walpole is our man. I can close this case and move back to a happier pay grade.’

The nurse opened the door and they showed her their warrant cards. She took them to a side room at the end of the corridor.

‘Mrs Walpole is in here,’ she said, opening the door. Jeanette was sitting up in bed, hooked up to a dialysis machine. Her skin was bright yellow, and her breathing laboured.

Don was sitting beside her, and he eyed Moss and Peterson.

‘Yes?’

‘Can we have a word, please? Best outside,’ said Moss. Don kissed the back of Jeanette’s hand and came outside. Moss and Peterson showed him their warrant cards.

‘We’ve been trying to get in contact with you, Mr Walpole,’ said Moss.

‘You can see, my wife is very sick.’

‘We need to take a DNA swab from you,’ said Peterson. Don looked him up and down.

‘Are you arresting me?’

‘No.’

‘Then I have to volunteer my DNA, and I’m not prepared to do that.’

‘Mr Walpole. Legally, we are able to take a DNA sample if we have grounds to suspect you have been involved in a crime. Now, we can find a place and do this here, or we can go to the station,’ said Moss.

Don looked between them.

‘I have here a document detailing your rights,’ said Peterson. ‘We can give you time to read it.’

Don stared through the strip of glass in the window at Jeanette, who now lay back on the bed with her eyes closed. ‘Okay,’ he said.

Peterson saw there was a small kitchen next to Jeanette’s room. They went inside and closed the door. Don sat at a small table. Peterson pulled on a pair of gloves and then took out a plastic tube with a long cotton wool swab.

‘I need a sample of your cells from the back of your throat,’ he said. Don opened his mouth and Peterson swabbed the back of his throat and the inside of his cheek. Then he placed it back in the tube and sealed it up.

‘Thank you,’ said Moss, handing Don a form to fill in. He scanned down the page and then signed.

‘She’s dying,’ he said. ‘Her body is giving up on her.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Moss. ‘We expect the DNA results in the next twenty-four hours.’



* * *



The sun was fighting to come out from behind the clouds when they left the hospital.

‘I’m going to head over to the lab in Vauxhall with the sample,’ said Peterson.

‘Good. I’m going over to speak to Mrs Fryatt. I need to solve the mystery around the earrings. I want to get a DNA sample from Charles Fryatt, too.’

‘You want me to swing by Hatton Garden? I have another kit.’

‘No. Get that in for testing. I need to ask her a few more questions, I want more than just a suspicious coincidence before we go after her son.’





Fifty-Three





There was no answer at Mrs Fryatt’s house. Moss rang the bell several times, and peered in through the window. She came back out onto the pavement and looked up at the large house. The polished windows reflected the grey sky and stared back blankly.

Moss leaned on the railing and felt a wave of fear and anxiety roll over her. This was not an emotion she was used to. She thought of how she’d left that morning, forgetting to say goodbye to Celia and Jacob. As she took out her phone to call them, it started to ring. She didn’t recognise the number.

‘Hi, this is Lisa Hawthorne. I’m an advisor at Jobcentre Plus in Forest Hill. One of your police officers asked me to come back to you with details of Joseph Pitkin’s past employment.’

‘Oh, yes, but…’

‘Sorry for the delay, we’re snowed under here with work. Joseph Pitkin was claiming benefits for the past four years. He’s only been claiming Jobseeker’s Allowance off and on. He’s had four periods of employment. On three occasions, he was working in a pub in Honor Oak Park – seasonal work over December in 2014, 2015 and 2016.’