Deadly Secrets: An absolutely gripping crime thriller

by Robert Bryndza

She knew that he was dead. She had seen it so many times before.

  Sixteen

  Superintendent Melanie Hudson stood at just over five foot, with short blonde hair and soft grey eyes, but her eyes and elfin frame belied a steely determination.

  She was settling down for an afternoon of television and a box of chocolates with her husband and young son when the call came through that a young man had died in custody at her police station.

  She drove straight to Lewisham Row, and was able to attend the scene as Joseph Pitkin’s body was taken out. She heard statements from the two custody officers, and then she came up to her office. When she rounded the corner into the corridor, she found Erika waiting on the chair outside.

  ‘Have you been sitting here in the dark?’ she said, reaching up and flicking on the lights with her elbow.

  ‘It helps me think.’

  She put down her bag and unlocked the office door. Erika followed her inside.

  ‘Start from the beginning, and tell me everything,’ she said, indicating the seat opposite her desk.

  Erika outlined everything that had happened with Joseph, from when she was first on the scene at Coniston Road, discovering him watching the crime scene, and the subsequent arrest when they found the photos and video.

  ‘I’ll need to review all video that you have from formal interviews. I also want a full written report from you. And from McGorry. Is there anything you want to tell me?’

  Erika looked at the floor.

  ‘Joseph’s father is a retired barrister… When we chased him, at the end of the chase, McGorry got involved in a tussle – well, a fight – with him. He was trying to stop him getting away… He held him by the strap that was around his neck.’

  ‘Define “held”?’ said Melanie.

  ‘The father, David Pitkin, said that he thought it was a chokehold.’

  ‘Was it a chokehold?’

  ‘It was in the heat of the moment. Joseph was throwing punches, he was on top of McGorry. John was acting in self-defence.’

  ‘But was it a chokehold?’

  Erika scratched her head. ‘Yes. Bloody hell, yes.’

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘I don’t know. A few seconds, ten seconds.’

  ‘You understand that there will be a full investigation as to why Joseph Pitkin hung himself. He was on suicide watch.’

  ‘Why are suicide watch checks every fifteen minutes? A lot can be achieved in fifteen minutes. He tore off strips of his jeans, for God’s sake!’ Erika wiped tears away from her cheeks. She sat up and took a tissue. ‘I want to inform the parents.’

  ‘No. That’s not a good idea.’

  ‘He was in custody because of me.’

  ‘He was in custody because you had compelling evidence to arrest and question him. You have also had conflict with the family; they need someone impartial. I will go and inform them with a family liaison officer.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware he had any mental health issues. I don’t have his medical records, but he was examined by a doctor after our first, explosive interview, and the doctor was satisfied that he could be interviewed again, after a break. We didn’t get that far. He was a key part of my investigation…’

  ‘Okay. I need you to take the rest of the day off,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I’m off the case?’

  ‘No. I need to look over the interview footage, and I need to talk to the custody sergeant, and the arresting officers. I also need a written statement from you with all the details. I also want to talk to McGorry.’

  Erika got up. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Just hold on, sit down.’

  Erika sat back in her seat.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m going to say something you’re not going to like, but I want you to hear me out.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You’ve been through a lot this year, Erika. It’s barely a week since you came off the murder-kidnap case.’

  ‘It’s ten days…’ Erika closed her eyes. It had been a harrowing case, involving a young couple, Nina Hargreaves and Max Hastings, who had committed a string of murders and robberies across London. The press, inevitably, had made a Bonnie and Clyde-style story out of it, and then Commander Marsh had made a fateful statement to the press, denouncing the two killers.

  Marsh had thought he had been smart, giving them an ultimatum, but what he’d given them instead was a face and a name. It hadn’t taken long for Nina and Max to dig around in his personal life, and discover that Marsh’s wife came from a wealthy family, and that they had two young daughters.

  They’d attacked Marcie when she was at home alone, and Nina Hargreaves had duped the nursery into thinking that she was the girls’ new nanny. This was when the case escalated to a full-blown kidnapping. Against all advice, Marsh and Marcie had paid a ransom of £200,000 – but it had only ended when Erika had managed to track Nina and Max down to where the twins were being held in a remote location on Dartmoor, in the south of England.

  The subsequent bloodbath, where Max and Nina had turned on each other, was still imprinted on Erika’s mind. She’d rescued the twins, who were physically unhurt, but the emotional scars would take a long time to heal.

  ‘Erika! Erika!’

  She opened her eyes. Melanie was looking at her with concern. ‘What happened there?’

  ‘Sorry. I’m tired, and still a bit shocked. Not only is it tragic when someone so young takes his own life – he was a key witness.’

  Melanie took out her wallet and removed a card, handing it to Erika.

  ‘Dr G Priestley. Clinical Psychologist,’ she read, looking up at Melanie. ‘Is this for me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You think I’m crazy? Unbalanced?’

  Melanie put up her hand. ‘No, I don’t. And before we go any further, I want to add that Dr Priestley is my doctor. I see him once a week.’

  ‘Therapy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Erika didn’t know what to say, and she looked down at the card again.

  ‘What is this? A referral? I come off another successful case and stop two multiple murderers and rescue the daughters of the borough commander, and I’m not congratulated, I’m put in therapy?’

  ‘Erika. No. This is me talking to you as a friend, or a colleague, privately. This is nothing to do with the Met, or any case, or the suicide of Joseph Pitkin. You are one of my finest officers, and I am confident that you will be back shortly and continuing work on this murder case, but this is what I want from you. It’s my duty to report if any of my officers are struggling with the pressures of work.’

  ‘You’re going to report me?’

  ‘No! Listen to what I’m saying, you bloody idiot!’

  Erika looked up at her and smiled.

  ‘Sorry…’ started Melanie.

  ‘No, it’s okay. I’ll take being called a bloody idiot over bullshit corporate language…’ She held up the card. ‘This is your therapist?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Do you mind me asking why you…?’

  Melanie took a deep breath and sat back.

  ‘My first pregnancy was twins. I carried them to full term, had the baby shower, had the excited family and husband waiting in the delivery room to hold our babies… They were both stillborn.’ She took a deep breath and wiped a tear from her eye. ‘The doctors didn’t know why. I have no family history of stillbirth. It was a textbook pregnancy. The lack of reasons why it happened were devastating. I lost my faith, and I almost lost everything else. It almost destroyed me.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. When was this?’

  ‘Ten years ago, but it was a long journey to come back to normality. Of course, I never think I’ll come fully back from that place, but life is good now. So, I’m talking to you as a friend, with no judgement. Don’t crash and burn, Erika. The job isn’t worth that much. I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but I am not against you. As I said, you are one of my best officers and I want you to stay that way. I want
you to go on and keep doing what you’re doing, but you need to make sure you are in the right frame of mind.’

  Erika looked down at the card again. ‘Can I think about it?’

  ‘Sure, just don’t think about it for too long. In the meantime, go home and get some sleep. I’ll call you. And send in McGorry.’

  Erika came out of the office, and closed the door. McGorry and the custody sergeant were both waiting on chairs in the corridor. They both looked in shock.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked McGorry, blowing out his cheeks.

  ‘OK. Just tell the truth, as it happened. I had to mention the chokehold on Joseph. I said it was in self-defence. I’ll be putting it all in my report.’

  ‘Jeans, his jeans,’ muttered the custody sergeant, shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘You did your job,’ said Erika.

  ‘It’s not enough, though,’ he replied.

  She briefly put her hand on his arm, and nodding goodbye, she left the station. When she got into her car, she saw that the Christmas presents for the twins were still on the back seat. She started the car and headed for Commander Marsh’s house.

  Seventeen

  Marsh lived on a smart road of large detached houses near Hilly Fields, which had a stunning view of the London skyline. The sun came out just as Erika found a parking spot outside, and it gave the snowy streets a golden hue. She hoped the Marshes were out, so she could leave the presents on the porch, but when she got to the front door she could hear the television blaring. She took a deep breath and grasped the large iron door knocker. It crashed loudly against the wood.

  A moment later, Marsh opened the door. He was a handsome man in his mid-forties with short-cropped blond hair. He looked pale and drawn, and like he’d lost a lot of weight.

  ‘Erika,’ he said, surprised. She held up the presents.

  ‘I know I’m a day late, but I wanted to give these to the girls, and apologise for my no-show.’

  Marsh went to say something, but Marcie appeared in the hall behind.

  ‘You made it. Merry Christmas,’ she said, giving Erika a hug. ‘How are you?’

  Marcie was a beautiful woman, but she too had lost too much weight. Her usually glossy black hair was long and lank, and she wore heavy pale make-up, which didn’t quite disguise the two black eyes and swelling from the broken nose, still healing after the attack.

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Erika, feeling awkward. She and Marcie went back a long way. They’d never had an easy relationship, until Erika had rescued her two small daughters.

  ‘Come on, inside, out of the cold,’ Marcie said, rubbing Erika’s shoulders. ‘That coat isn’t very thick; you need more than a leather jacket in this weather!’

  They took her through to the living room, which was stiflingly hot. An open fire was blazing, and next to it was a huge Christmas tree. Marcie’s father, Leonard, was snoozing in an armchair in one corner, and Marsh’s father, Alan, was asleep in another armchair by the tree.

  ‘Do sit down,’ said Marcie. ‘I’m just putting out a buffet lunch. I’ve got cold meats and cheeses, and some broccoli and stilton soup.’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Erika.

  ‘Can we get you a drink? Champagne?’ said Marsh.

  ‘Paul, keep your voice down. They’re sleeping!’ scolded Marcie in a stage whisper.

  ‘My voice is the same level as yours,’ he hissed.

  ‘No, you were bloody loud… Come and help with the food. Do excuse us, Erika.’

  They left the room. Erika looked over at the two old men, red-faced and snoozing. Marcie’s dad, Leonard, was tanned and well-dressed in casual blue slacks and a checked shirt with a cravat. Alan was scruffier, in old jeans and a yellow woollen jumper. Leonard shifted in his chair, coughed, and sat up, taking a moment to get his bearings. With an almost comic double take he noticed Erika.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘I know you, don’t I? You’re that lady police officer,’ he said. His voice was posh and plummy. ‘Ulrika, isn’t it?’

  ‘Erika Foster, Detective Chief Inspector.’

  He got up awkwardly and came over and held out his hand, smiling. His false teeth looked unnaturally white against his tanned skin. She took it and they shook, and then he swooped in and kissed her on both cheeks.

  ‘We’re very grateful for what you did, for Paul and Marcie, and the twins. Thank you,’ he said, continuing to pump her hand.

  ‘I was just doing my job.’

  ‘Bloody awful business. I saw the news report; they had to blur out the pictures of Max Hastings’s body.’

  ‘Yes…’

  Leonard was still shaking her hand.

  ‘Paul tells me the girl fired a distress flare at him – blew his whole head open, brains all over the place? Do you think the twins saw it?’

  ‘Yes, I do think so.’

  ‘My grandfather survived the trenches during the First World War. He had shell shock, of course. He remembered young lads having the backs of their heads blown off by shrapnel fire… Course, these days we’re all encouraged to have therapy; back then they suffered in silence…’

  Alan woke up. He took a moment to come around, and smacked his lips and rubbed his eyes. He was an older version of Marsh, with a craggy face and full head of short-cropped grey hair.

  ‘Alan, this is Ulrika, the police officer who caught those murdering bastards!’

  ‘Hello, it’s Erika,’ she said, pulling her hand away from Leonard’s grip.

  ‘Ulrika… That’s a Swedish name. Did you used to do the weather?’ asked Alan, with dead-pan seriousness.

  ‘The weather?’

  ‘Poor old git is losing his marbles,’ murmured Leonard, tapping the side of his head.

  ‘I heard that!’ said Alan. ‘Is she the district nurse?’

  Thankfully, Marsh came back into the room with a tray of champagne.

  ‘Dad, this is Erika. Erika Foster. We trained together in Manchester,’ he said. Alan nodded, but looked none the wiser.

  ‘Were you at lunch? Was she at lunch, Paul?’

  ‘No dad, Erika has just arrived,’ said Marsh, speaking slowly and loudly. There was an awkward silence. Leonard picked up the remote and switched on the TV. There was a cacophony of noise as The Sound of Music came on the screen. The von Trapp children were marching down the stairs. ‘Let’s go through to the kitchen,’ Marsh added in a low voice. Erika smiled at the two old men, now engrossed in the film.

  ‘Sorry about that. Dad’s getting a bit confused. It’s been quite a frustrating Christmas. I keep having to repeat everything,’ said Marsh as they went along the hall and into the kitchen. ‘Leonard’s fine, he just doesn’t listen. He’s in his own world.’

  ‘Who doesn’t listen?’ asked Marcie as they came into the kitchen. She was laying out a beautiful buffet on the long kitchen table.

  ‘Your father.’

  ‘At least my father knows what day it is.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ snapped Marsh.

  ‘It’s an observation. He should be in a home. It’s been very stressful having him here. There’s nothing wrong with my father. If you remember, he won Trivial Pursuit yesterday.’

  Erika looked down at her champagne glass, wanting to be out of the firing line.

  ‘I’m not saying he’s going the same way as mine. I’m saying he’s bull-headed, and the way he talks to your mother…’

  ‘My mother can be just as bad.’

  ‘Why else did she go out today? I wish I’d gone out!’

  Marcie looked at him. She had tears in her eyes.

  ‘Maybe I should go,’ said Erika.

  ‘No, please stay,’ said Marcie, dabbing at her eyes with tissue. Marsh stood beside her, trying to control his anger.

  Sophie and Mia came into the kitchen, breaking the mood. They were two tiny, identical four-year-olds, dressed in matching purple velvet dresses with thick cream tights and pink hairbands in their long dark hair. They saw Erika and
wordlessly came to her and gave her a hug. Erika put her glass down and crouched to hug the two little girls, smelling their hair against her cheek. In the warm, bright kitchen, what had happened all seemed surreal, and so long ago.

  ‘We’re so pleased to see you,’ said Sophie, taking the lead.

  ‘I’m pleased to see you, too,’ said Erika. They all looked at each other. Mia nodded solemnly; her big brown eyes were so expressive. Erika felt rotten that she had missed coming for lunch the day before.

  ‘I brought you both presents. They’re a bit late, but Merry Christmas.’ She gave the two bags to the girls, and they pulled out the wrapped gifts and tore off the paper excitedly. The first was a Blingles Glimmer Studio Sticker Maker set, and the second was a Fashion Headbands set, with options to make your own hairbands in different colours and with flowers and glitter. ‘I got two different things, but I remembered how much you two like to share,’ said Erika.

  Both girls had genuine faces of wonderment and excitement.

  ‘Oh. Girls, what do you say to Erika?’ said Marcie.

  ‘Thank you, Erika!’ they both said.

  ‘You didn’t already get them for Christmas? My niece and nephew are around your age, and they said these were really good presents.’

  ‘No, we haven’t got them, and they are the best presents, EVER!’ cried Mia, giving her another hug.

  The girls looked up at Marcie. ‘Mummy, get the thing,’ said Sophie. Marcie went to the kitchen counter and picked up a small gift-wrapped box. She handed it to Sophie, then Mia grabbed the corner and they both handed it to Erika.

  ‘We got this for you,’ said Mia.

  Erika pulled the paper off a small jewellery box. When she opened it, inside there was a necklace with a small silver cross. Marcie took the box and undid the necklace, and Mia lifted the short hair at the back of Erika’s head so that they could put it on.

  ‘This is a beautiful gift,’ said Erika to the girls, then looking up at Marcie and Marsh. They smiled. The twins then pulled out two new iPhones from the pockets of their dresses, and with their tiny hands they expertly swiped through their screens.

  ‘These were presents from Mummy and Daddy,’ said Sophie. ‘They want us to be in contact with them, always, because of what happened.’