The Night Stalker (Detective Erika Foster 2)

‘I can imagine,’ said Erika, shrinking back as Simone hysterically swiped at the air with the point of the knife.

‘NO, you can’t!’

Erika put her hands to her face. ‘I’m sorry, no, I can’t. Please, Simone. It’s over, let me get you some help.’

‘I need help, do I? There’s nothing wrong with me! I just stopped taking all the shit that was being thrown at me! I wasn’t born like this! I was innocent, but that innocence was torn from me!’

‘Okay,’ said Erika, putting her hands up to protect herself as Simone swiped the knife closer.

‘Come on, be honest, Erika. Wouldn’t you love the opportunity to wipe out all those men, the ones who’ve been the architects of your future? The men who’ve shaped your life for the worse? Jerome Goodman? The drug dealer who killed your husband and your friends? Look me in the eye and tell me that you wouldn’t do to him what I’ve done. Take control and revenge!’

Erika gulped. She felt the sweat on her forehead run down into her eyes and it stung.

‘Tell me! Tell me you’d do the same!’

‘I’d do the same,’ said Erika. As it came out of her mouth she knew she was saying it to stay alive, to keep Simone happy – but she also knew that a part of her understood Simone, and it shook her to the core. She looked around the room, trying to work out how she could get away.

‘Don’t you take your eyes off me!’ shouted Simone.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Erika, frantically trying to think. She knew she was close to death. ‘I know he burnt you, Simone. Your husband. And I’m trying to understand your pain and your anger. Help me to understand even more. Show me.’

Simone started to tremble and tears ran down her cheeks.

‘He ruined me. He ruined my body,’ she said. She grappled at her T-shirt and lifted it. Erika gulped when she saw the angry, swirling mass of scar tissue all across Simone’s stomach and ribs. The skin was shiny and pinched where she’d lost her bellybutton.

‘I’m so sorry, Simone,’ said Erika. ‘I understand. Look at you… Look at you: a brave, brave warrior.’

‘I am, I’m brave…’ sobbed Simone.

‘You are, you’re brave. And you proudly show the scars,’ said Erika.

Simone pulled her T-shirt up higher to show more, and in the split second the fabric moved up to her face, Erika leaned back and kicked into the mass of red scar tissue. Simone doubled over, crying in pain. Erika managed to just get past her, but Simone recovered quickly and was on her. They crashed into the frosted glass door. Erika kicked and fought and managed to get half-up and run halfway along the corridor before Simone caught up with her again.

‘You bitch!’ she cried, launching herself on Erika. They crashed down hard on the concrete floor in the doorway of the bathroom. Erika rolled onto her back as Simone loomed above her and punched her in the face. Simone punched her again and Erika saw stars. She started to black out.

‘You lying cunt,’ hissed Simone. Erika felt herself being dragged across the cold bathroom floor and then she was pulled up into a sitting position with her back against the cold porcelain of the toilet. Simone’s sharp little face was above her, and then Erika’s vision was obscured as the plastic bag was slid over her head. The same bag Simone had used to kill Keith.

Erika heard the plastic crackle with her breathing, the blood roar in her ears, and then felt the cord tighten around her neck. Simone was sitting up on the lid of the toilet. Her legs were either side of Erika and she was pulling on the cord at the same time as her feet were pinning Erika’s arms at her side, keeping her on the floor. Erika gasped and gagged as the bag began to form a vacuum over her head.

‘You are going to die here, and I’m going to leave your body, all alone,’ hissed Simone, her grip now tight.

Erika’s arms flailed uselessly on the floor. Her hand brushed the walls behind the toilet. And then she felt a strip of thick fabric fluttering against the skirting board. It was connected to the huge swinging safety rail. Her fingers scrabbled against it and just managed to grip. Her vision was fading fast, and with a spurt of adrenalin she pulled herself forward. Simone was dragged off the toilet seat, and at the same time Erika yanked down the strip of fabric. The huge safety rail came thundering down with great force and struck Simone on the head.

Simone lost grip of Erika and went crashing to the floor. Erika grabbed at the cord around her neck and managed to loosen it, scrabbling frantically, finally getting the bag off her head. Sucking the glorious clean cold air into her lungs, she yanked on the red emergency cord beside the toilet and an alarm began to sound.