Fatal Witness (Detective Erika Foster #7) (8)

Erika, Moss and Peterson got up off the grass and hurried over to the van just as the police officer was handcuffing Charles. Erika looked back and saw inside the ambulance there was a mess of discarded, bloody, bandages. The paramedic was bleeding from her nose, and blotting it with a wad of tissue.

‘I’m okay,’ she said, her voice thick and wet with the nosebleed.

‘I should be allowed bodily autonomy!’ cried Charles, still bent over the car bonnet with his hands cuffed behind his back. ‘I told her, I don’t want an injection!’ His eyes were wild with fury, and the blood streaking down his face made him look like a madman.

‘I was trying to give him a tetanus booster. He has rust in the wound,’ said the paramedic, stoically swapping out the blood-soaked tissue for a fresh wad.

‘You bastards! I didn’t do anything, I didn’t!’ Charles screamed with a childlike intensity.

‘You shut up!’ said the policeman, pushing him down onto the bonnet.

Erika looked across the street, and she could see the neighbours opposite gathering on the doorsteps. A young girl had her mobile phone out, filming the spectacle. This crime scene was complex enough without Charles kicking off.

‘Okay, enough!’ said Erika, directing this at Charles and the police officer who’d slammed him down on the bonnet. ‘Take him to the station, clean him up and book him for assaulting a police officer. He can spend a night in the cells.’

At this, Charles started to scream and shout.

‘You can’t do this to me! I’m just trying to live my life. Please, no! Please don’t do this!’

‘Wow. And I thought my five-year-old had bad tantrums,’ said Moss as they watched Charles fight and try to wriggle free of the young policeman. He was taller, but Charles was heavy and stocky in comparison. The policeman was dragged to and fro, like a rag-doll, before Peterson stepped in and helped him to gain control.

‘Please, sir, mind your head,’ said Peterson, and they placed him into the back seat of the car. As they drove away, Charles was still at the window, raging and baring his teeth, his breath forming a circle of condensation, and reminding Erika of a rabid dog.





5





An hour later, Isaac gave them the all-clear to enter the crime scene. Erika, Moss and Peterson were wearing white Tyvek suits. Their hoods were up and they also wore face shields and shoe covers. When they went back into the flat, the living room was now a blaze of light. Two strong lights on tripods had been set up in opposite corners. There was a light underneath the open-out sofa where Vicky lay, and Erika could see where the blood had dripped through the thin mattress and onto the carpet. The room was small, and the sofa was next to the front window. She always thought that the lighting of a crime scene added a strange theatricality. The crime scene photographer was taking close-up shots of the body, and two SOCOs – scene of crime officers – were taking blood spatter samples from the wall and the carpet. The metallic smell of the congealing blood seemed stronger under the heat of the lamps.

‘Okay,’ said Isaac, crouching down next to the sofa bed. ‘Vicky’s neck is broken, and both of her shoulders have been dislocated. You can see where her hands are tied behind her back.’

‘Yes.’

‘Extreme pressure was placed on both arms, folding them back and dislocating her shoulders. She’s also been struck in the face. Her front tooth is chipped.’

Erika looked down at the young woman, who looked so small. So vulnerable.

‘There was a gag in her mouth, a rolled up pair of socks, and it had been taped over with masking tape. She’s been stabbed in what seem like random places. Her lower back, neck, cheek, left hip. The knife also penetrated her scalp in several places.’

‘There’s so much blood on the mattress.’

‘Yes, which brings me back to these stab wounds,’ said Isaac. ‘This is a roll-up sofa bed, a rather cheap one, and there are several punctures to the thin mattress… I think whoever did this, rolled her up inside the sofa bed and went mad stabbing her through the mattress… I think her assailant hit the subclavian artery during the attack. It’s a major artery running directly from the heart and carries blood to the arms and neck. It would have led to this amount of blood loss. I’ll know for sure after the post-mortem.’

‘Hang on, you say you think she was rolled up inside the mattress when the stab wounds were inflicted?’

‘Yes.’

‘When the body was found, the sofa bed was open. So whoever did this opened out the bed after she’d died, to check she was dead?’

‘That’s for you to find out. I just give you the facts of what I see.’

Erika looked at Moss and Peterson, and she could see the shock in their faces. They’d seen some horrific crime scenes, but never anything like this.

‘Do you have any idea of time of death?’ asked Erika.

‘Not yet.’

‘Off-the-record, if you were pushed to estimate?’

‘Off the record?’

‘Of course,’ said Erika with a weak smile.

‘Based on what I can see… Between 3pm and 7pm.’

‘That’s a big window of time,’ said Erika.

‘That’s the best off-the-record estimate I can give you. I’ll know more after the post-mortem.’