Lethal Vengeance: Erika Foster returns in her most chilling case yet (Detective Erika Foster 8) by Robert Bryndza

Author:Robert Bryndza [Bryndza, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Raven Street Publishing
Published: 2024-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

37

The rainstorm had intensified when they emerged from the Cromwell Green entrance. Erika wasn’t any drier than when she’d arrived, but her body had warmed the soaked material of her clothes. A strange long-ago recollection of wetting the bed came back to her – age five or six, waking up and her pyjamas being wet and warm. She shook the horrible memory away.

Erika and Marsh huddled under the awning, peering hopefully at the dark sky and the rain pouring down. She felt the cold air on her collar, and shivered.

Erika could see Marsh was weighing up whether to offer her shelter under his umbrella and a lift, or leave her to the elements. She turned to him.

‘Don’t start,’ he snapped.

‘Can we talk about that meeting?’

‘No, we can’t. We just signed that we bloody well can’t.’

‘I would have appreciated a heads up on a meeting I was invited to attend.’

‘Okay. Yes. I didn’t want you to come. Do you know why?’

‘Why?’

‘I didn’t want to burden you with sensitive information.’

‘That’s not the first visit I’ve had with those secret service types.’

‘It isn’t?’ asked Marsh, who seemed surprised.

‘I’ve already been warned. And I was worried if I didn’t show today, there would be repercussions.’

Marsh frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t know.’ He peered up at the water cascading down the ancient gutter pipes with a frothy gurgle. ‘Where are you headed?’

‘The station – or actually, looking at the time, home.’

‘I’m going that way. Do you want a lift?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’

He had a posh umbrella that opened with a whoomph at the touch of a button. He offered up his arm, and Erika took it as they hurried the short distance across the car park.

When they were inside his car, the windows immediately began to steam up. Marsh switched on the cold air and started the engine.

‘Who were those three people in there?’ asked Erika.

Marsh gave her the side-eye as he steered the car to the main entrance barrier. ‘You think I know? They could have been senior civil service, or MI5.’

‘You say that a little blasé. You’re fifth in command of the Met Police.’

‘It’s the reality of the situation. I know of two other occasions when you’ve had to sign the Official Secrets Act. I’ve lost count of the times I have.’

Marsh waited for a gap in the traffic and then pulled out onto the main road. The rain was easing and leaving behind vast puddles and flooded patches of road.

Erika’s phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number but answered.

‘Ma’am. This is PC Mortimer from the Scarsdale Villas crime scene. You gave me your card.’

‘Thanks for calling. What’s happening?’

‘Forensics are still here. It looks like it will take a long time to dust the place for prints. There is so much stuff here and fingerprints on everything. We think Jessica worked from home.’

‘Have relatives been informed? What about a formal ID?’

‘We’re having trouble getting in contact with anyone. There are no siblings. Her mother is in a home up north. Father is deceased. We don’t know if there was a partner; she was registered as living here alone.

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