She peered up at the top window. Two years previously she’d rented the top floor flat from Marsh, living there during a long cold winter. As well as the shock of a new city and the loneliness of the sparsely furnished flat, a masked intruder had broken in and nearly killed her.
‘You know you could save yourself a lot of hassle and answer your phone, Sir,’ said Erika when he opened the main front door.
‘Hello to you too. And I’m not your boss anymore, so you can drop the Sir.’ He wore thick pyjama bottoms and a faded Homer Simpson t-shirt. ‘Is this work related, or did you bring a bottle?’
‘Yes and no.’
‘You better come in.’
* * *
The small flat hadn’t changed much in the eighteen months since she’d left. It had a smart chilliness with the generic IKEA furniture. Erika avoided looking in the open bathroom door, as she came through the hall to the living room. This was where the deranged serial killer David Douglas-Brown had scaled the back wall of the building, punched out the extractor fan and opened the window. That night she had very nearly died as he wrapped his hands around her throat. She had only been saved by her colleague, DI Moss. She thought of Moss, she missed working with her and her other colleagues in the Murder Investigation Team at Lewisham Row.
This sharpened Erika’s resolve as Marsh indicated she should sit on the sofa. He went to his phone and switched it on, then moved to fill the kettle. Erika sat.
‘Late on Friday I salvaged four million pounds worth of heroin from the bottom of hayes quarry. We’ve linked it to…’
‘Jason Tyler. Yes I saw. Good work, Erika.’
’Thank you. The marine unit also found human remains half buried in the silt on the quarry bed. It’s unrelated to the Tyler case…’ Erika went on to outline what she knew so far.
‘Jesus. You found Jessica Collins?’
Erika nodded. ‘As of yet, no one has been assigned as SIO.’
‘I can sense that you are about to cut to the chase,’ he said opening the tiny fridge and pulling out a bottle of milk.
‘Yes. I need your help please. Make me SIO on the Jessica Collins case.’
Marsh paused with the milk and then slowly opened the carton and began pouring it into two mugs.
‘Have you spoken to your Superintendent?’
‘Yes.’
‘He said no. Didn’t he?’
‘Yes, he did. Paul, Jessica Collins lay at the bottom of a water filled quarry for twenty-six years. She was eleven when she vanished. Her killer is still on the loose…’ Marsh took a deep breath as the kettle boiled and clicked off, the steam hit the underside of the cupboards and began to stream across the ceiling in the tiny living room. ‘Paul. You should have seen her, the skeleton. Part of the head was caved in, bones were broken. She’d been wrapped in plastic and chucked in the water. We don’t know if she was still alive when she went in. It looks like she was still wearing the same outfit when she went missing.’
Marsh poured hot water into a small teapot.
‘The Specialist Casework Investigation Team will be looking at this, and will assign this case where the funds and manpower available,’ he said.
‘You think there’s a team with a free major incident suite sitting around twiddling their thumbs, just waiting for a case like this?’
‘No. But with cutbacks, your Superintendent is probably pushed to breaking point.’
‘Every department in the MET is pushed to breaking point, but this case has to go somewhere. We found the remains in my borough. We have the manpower and resources at Bromley South. I’m the senior officer who found the body. This isn’t a stretch by any means. You’re a Commander now. You can make this happen.’
‘Erika, I have to be careful where I interfere right now. You know Assistant Commissioner Oakley has just taken early retirement? I don’t yet have the same rapport with his replacement.’
‘Who is his replacement?’
‘It’s not being officially announced until tomorrow morning.’
‘Come on, you can tell me. It’s not as if I’ll go and doorstep him…’ Marsh raised an eyebrow. ‘I promise I won’t doorstep him.’
‘Her. The new Assistant Commissioner is Camilla Brace-Cosworthy…’ Marsh stirred the tea in the pot then poured, adding, ‘The look on your face says it all.’
‘Let me guess. She went to Oxford?’
‘No. Cambridge. Joined the force on the accelerated promotion course.’
‘So she’s never been on the beat?’
‘That’s not what it’s about these days.’
‘What do you mean? There are officers out there every day on the beat, cleaning up the shit and the problems. Why is the Assistant Commissioner never anyone who’s worked his or her way up from the bottom? Someone who has had to fight to get where they are, who knows what it’s like? Once again we’ve got someone in charge who knows nothing about life, beyond a small sphere of public school and holidays in the home counties.’
‘That’s not fair. You don’t know her.’
‘And I’m the only one who’ll be thinking it? No. But I’m probably the only one who’s saying it out loud…’
He handed her a mug of tea with a small smile. ’You’ve got a chip on your shoulder.’
‘And?’
‘And. I’m enjoying your rant. It’s quite entertaining when it’s not directed at me.’
‘Look, Paul. I’m aware I can be a dick. If I wasn’t such a dick, I know I’d be a Superintendent by now, hell I may well even be a Chief Superintendent…’
‘Easy now…’
‘But I’ve learned a lesson. Please, can you pull some strings, and get me put on the Jessica Collins case. Think of it as a great thing for the MET police budget. You get my wealth of experience all for the cut price salary of a DCI.’
‘Erika…’
‘I had time to think after the last case. I had time to think about what you said to me, and you were right. I am irresponsible. I do have a poor attitude and I go against authority. But I’m fucking good. And I know I can catch the bastard who did this. He, or she is out there and thinks after all these years they’ve got away with it. But I’m going to get them.’
‘The case, it’s a poisoned chalice,’ said Marsh. ‘You’ve heard of what happened to the SIO who worked on it back in the day, DCI Amanda Baker? She was thrown off the case.’
‘I was thrown off three huge cases, then fought my way back to solve them.’
‘She wasn’t like you. Well, she was, she was a brilliant officer, but she wasn’t strong, up here,’ he said tapping his forehead. ‘She was one of the first female DCI’s in the MET and the first to be assigned to such a high profile case with the disappearance of Jessica Collins. She had it really tough from her peers, those high up in the MET and the press. They were so suspicious as to why a woman had landed the job of SIO.’
‘How did she land the job then?’
‘Damage limitation. So many mistakes were made in the first few days after Jessica’s disappearance; the police were facing a lot of questions. Putting a female DCI in place as SIO was a good story to distract from this, to put the police in a good light.’
‘But she had people who believed she could do it?’
‘Yes, and no. She was brilliant, but she couldn’t take the pressure. Top brass were unaware that in the months leading up to her being put on the case, she’d been seeing a therapist. She’d spent several years, as she rose up through the ranks, working on rape cases. Back then it was a given that if you were a female officer you’d be given the rape cases to deal with. Amanda would take evidence at the scene, or shortly afterwards, and she’s support these women through the whole awful process. The only problem was that she didn’t know how to let go, how to separate herself from work. She’d stay in contact with these women for weeks, months, even years afterwards. She saved a lot of women from the abyss. The only problem was that no one was looking out for her. She was about to be signed off sick whe
n she got the call that she was going to be SIO. Eventually she cracked under the pressure.’
‘You know I’m not going to crack under the pressure,’ said Erika quietly. ‘I will crack, however, if I have to spend the next few years on the merry go round of taking drug dealers off the street, only for another one to take his place.’
Marsh nodded. They sat for a moment and drank their tea.
‘Paul, please. This is a seven year old who was abducted off the street. She’s lain at the bottom of that quarry for twenty-six years. Imagine if someone did that to one of your…’
’No! Erika do not bring my girls into this.’
‘Jessica was someone’s daughter… You can make this happen.’
Marsh rubbed his eyes,
‘I can put in a word, but that’s all it will be. I can’t promise anything.’
‘Thank you,’ said Erika, she took a gulp of her tea. ‘But as far as Superintendent Yale is concerned, I was never here, I never spoke to you.’
‘Ok… Aren’t you going to ask me about Marcie?’ he said after a pause.
‘No. I figured if you want to talk about it, you would.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘We’re trying to work things out. We’re on a break.’ Erika raised an eyebrow. ‘Her words, not mine. She wants to ‘go on a break’ whilst she finds out…’ his voice cracked and it tailed off. ‘She met someone else.’
‘She’s the one who cheated?’ asked Erika surprised.
‘Yes. Some bloke she met at one of her art classes. Keir.’
‘Already, he sounds like a twat,’ said Erika. Marsh grinned weakly.
‘He’s twenty-nine. He goes to the gym. He’s like a model.’
‘He sounds like a fad. Marcie loves you. Hang in there.’
‘Did you think it would be me?’ he said suddenly. ‘Did you think I’d be the one to have an affair?’
‘Yes.’
He looked hurt. ‘Come on. You know what I mean. You occupy a position of power, there are plenty of nubile young girls working as support staff, I figured you and Marcie were having, troubles. And power like yours is a great aphrodisiac.’
‘Is it?’ he asked looking at her.
‘Power is, for some women an aphrodisiac. You must know that?’
He nodded. ‘Would you like another cup, or something stronger?’
‘No. I’d best be getting going.’
‘If you want, you can stay,’ he said softly.
‘What? I live just up the road…’
‘I just meant, that’s it’s late and…’
‘No, Paul. I won’t be staying.’
‘You could be more polite!’
‘You have two small children. And just because Marcie has decided that she wants to shop around doesn’t mean you should do the same thing.’
‘What? I didn’t mean it like that! I meant you could sleep on the sofa.’
‘I know how you meant it. This sofa is barely four foot long, and this is a one bedroom flat. Would this be my payment to you for you putting in a good word?’
‘Bloody hell!’ Marsh began to shout. ‘It was a kind offer to a friend…’
‘I’m not stupid, Paul.’
‘You are. You’re bloody stupid! How can someone be so smart at work and so stupid in life!’
Erika got up, grabbed her coat and left his flat. She thundered down the communal stairs, and came out of the front door slamming it behind her. At the car she fumbling in her pocket for the keys, which were caught on a piece of the lining of her pocket.
‘Shit!’ she said yanking at them. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ They came out of her pocket ripping the lining and she unlocked and got in. She slammed her hand on the wheel and tipped her head back against the head rest.
‘Yes, I am stupid,’ she murmured.
10
When Erika arrived at Bromley Station early on Tuesday morning she bumped into Superintendent Yale coming out of the men’s toilet with a copy of The Observer under his arm.
‘Erika, can I have a word?’ he said. She nodded and followed him up to his office. He closed the door and moved round his desk, indicating she should sit.
‘I’ve just had a call from our new Assistant Commissioner,’ he said settling in the chair behind his desk with a creak.
‘Camilla Brace-Cosworthy?’ asked Erika.
‘Yeah. I thought she was calling to introduce herself to me.’
‘I thought she’d just copy you in on a group email,’ said Erika. The second it came out of her mouth she wish she hadn’t said it. He paused, and seemed to let that one go.
‘She wants to meet you.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Really. I don’t have the ear of the new Assistant Commissioner. She’s only held her position for one day. And yet she wants to meet with you about the Jessica Collins case…. Know something I don’t?’
‘No, Sir,’ she lied.
‘I’m your senior officer, and we had discussed this. I said that we don’t have the resources or time to deal with a major historical case such as this. Obviously it wasn’t the answer you wanted, and now I’m getting cold calls from the Assistant Commissioner.’
‘I haven’t approached her.’
‘Who did you approach?’
‘No one.’
Yale sat back in his chair and laughed,
‘You seem to have nine lives, Erika. I’d assumed with the amount of begging that went on from Commander Marsh, begging me to find a place for you on my team, that you and him have a special bond…’
‘We trained together. We were officers on the beat at the same time, he was good friends with my late husband too. And he’s married.’ Erika sat back and tried to stay calm.
‘Marsh will be attending this meeting too. Did you know that?’
‘No, I didn’t, Sir. And you know that I’m very grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me,’ said Erika.
He nodded, unconvinced. ‘They’re expecting you at eleven. You need to report to her office at New Scotland Yard.’ He didn’t wait for her to answer, but she could see that the meeting was over when he turned and started working on his computer.
‘Thank you, Sir. What about Jason Tyler?’
‘I’ve got it covered.’
‘Thank you, Sir.’ She got up to leave.
‘Erika, even cats run out of lives. Use the ones you have left wisely,’ he said looking up for a moment before returning to his work.
11
At the New Scotland Yard building, Erika arrived twenty minutes early for her meeting. She passed the iconic revolving sign outside the front entrance, and was given an ID badge at the front desk and told to go to the fourteenth floor.
When Erika came out of the lifts a smart young receptionist welcomed her, asking if she would like a drink whilst she waited. Erika accepted some water, and sat in one of a selection of elegant armchairs.
There were a fan of magazines on a long table; the MET police’s internal magazine The Job was at the front of the fan, and the outgoing Assistant Commissioner Oakley was on the front cover. He stood in his dress uniform against a gleaming shelf of legal volumes. Erika always thought he looked like a sleek, sly fox. His hair was shiny and immaculately groomed and his braided cap tucked neatly under his arm. She picked up the magazine and peered closer. She had no doubt he wore a toupee. If he had been an officer on the beat it would have been picked up by a rogue gust of wind or yanked off by some kid on its first ASBO, she thought.
She’d never been invited to his office, when this had been his office, and it seemed any trace of him had been rapidly swept away. The chairs were new, Erika noted as a young man in a suit and a security ID lanyard started removing the plastic off a chair at the end. Fanned out, after The Job were copies of Time, The Economist, Vogue, Men’s Health and Vanity Fair.
Erika looked up at the security camera housed in a small perspex dome above the receptionists desk. She wondered if the magazines were a test. Would she be judged on which one
she’d picked up? Her first choice was Vanity Fair, with Vogue a close second, but she picked up Time magazine and pretended to read it, feeling nervous, wondering just what this meeting would be about.
On the dot of 10am, a lady wearing a smart black trouser suit with glasses on a chain around her neck, appeared through the double doors of the office, and asked Erika to come through.
The office was immaculate with a thick carpet, and lined with shelves full of legal books. Behind them the Thames glinted, and the view seemed to carry on for miles. Assistant Commissioner Camilla Brace-Cosworthy sat at a large polished wood desk. She wore her dress uniform, with its white blouse and her neckerchief. Next to her sat Marsh, he too was in his official uniform.
‘Come in, do take a seat,’ said Camilla. Her posh accent emphasising the ‘do’.
‘Good afternoon, sir, marm,’ said Erika.
‘Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Erika,’ said Marsh.
‘We’re attending an official luncheon later, so we’re all togged up in our best,’ said Camilla.
‘Congratulations on your new appointment, marm,’ said Erika. Camilla batted her away with a sidewards hand gesture, and slipped on a pair of large designer black framed glasses on a chain around her neck.
’Time will tell if I can live up to the hype,’ she said looking at her with magnified eyes. False modesty thought Erika. The woman in front of her was confident.
‘We’re here to talk about the Jessica Collins case,’ started Marsh. ‘You recovered the remains on Friday, and they’ve been officially identified?’
He knew this, of course, she’d told him when he was at home in his Homer Simpson t-shirt.
‘Yes, sir. I was working with the Marine Recovery unit for an unrelated drug case, when we found her remains…’
Erika saw she had a file on her desk, and was flipping through it. They have a file on me?
‘I see you’ve worked on several Murder Investigation Teams, both in London and in Manchester?’ asked Camilla
Dark Water: A gripping serial killer thriller Page 4