The Girl in the Ice (Detective Erika Foster 1)

‘No . . .’ croaked Erika.

‘Yes, no criminals in space. I bet it would be very peaceful,’ said Celia. ‘I’m just going to put this little one to bed. Please, make yourself at home, Erika. Do you want to have a shower?’

Erika nodded.

‘Kate, get Erika one of the towels from the airing cupboard whilst I put Jacob back down. Say night-night, Jacob.’

‘Night-night Jacob,’ he said with a grin.

‘The bed in the spare room is made up and I’ve put the little heater in there,’ added Celia.

Moss gave Celia and Jacob a kiss and they left the room.

‘Nice family,’ croaked Erika, perching on the edge of the sofa, not quite knowing what to do with herself.

‘The doctor said no talking, boss . . . Thanks. I’m very lucky. Jacob came along a few years ago. Celia gave birth to him. I’d love to have a little girl. We always said that we’d have one each. It’s just – work gets in the way.’

Erika croaked something.

‘What was that?’

Erika shook her head frustrated, and croaked, ‘Don’t leave it too late . . . kids.’

Moss nodded sagely. She went to the kitchen and came back with two glasses of orange juice. Erika’s had a straw.

‘You look like you could use some sugar.’

They sipped for a moment.

‘I got one of the night-duty officers to run George Mitchell through the database. Nothing.’

Erika swallowed and shook her head.

‘Boss, someone just tried to kill you. Do you think it’s connected?’

Erika felt like she was done. She didn’t know if it was shock or exhaustion, but she didn’t care. She wanted sleep. She nodded. ‘Shower?’ she asked, looking down at herself in the overalls.

‘Sure thing, yeah, boss,’ said Moss. She regarded Erika for a moment. Worry, mixed with a little pity.

Erika stood under the shower for a long time, her bandaged arm extended to avoid the water. She inhaled the steam, trying to take away the terrible rawness in her throat. Moss had lent her a pair of pyjamas, and Erika pulled them on. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes bulged out with a pinky tinge, and her throat was now so swollen that it gave her a toadish look. She opened the medicine cabinet but there were only painkillers in there, and Night Nurse. Erika had hoped for some anti-anxiety medication or sleeping pills. She gingerly took some Night Nurse, the pain almost unbearable as she swallowed.

When she emerged from the bathroom, the house was dark and quiet, save for a small night light in the hallway. On her way to the spare room she stopped outside Jacob’s bedroom. His door was ajar, and he was sound asleep under a blue blanket. A mobile turned above his bed, soft lights sliding across the walls as a lullaby played.

Moss put her life on the line most days, mingling with the crazies out there with knives and guns, vendettas and grudges. Jacob slept, his chest slowly rising and falling. His world was his two mummies, his toys, the mobile slowly turning above his head, its calming tune winding down. For the first time, Erika questioned if it was all worth it. You arrest one bad guy, and ten more fill the void.

She found the tiny back bedroom at the end of the house, climbed into the single bed, pulled the covers over her head and tried to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the figure looming over her, squeezing the life from her body. The blank face under the woollen mask, just a pair of eyes glittering in the half-light.

Was it fate that Moss had called at her door at the precise time she had? Why had Erika been spared? Mark was a much better person than she could ever be. He was kind and patient; a brilliant police officer. He’d carved out a place in this world for himself. He’d done much good, and he was capable of so much more.

Why had he been taken, when she was spared?

51

Erika stayed with Moss and Celia for a few days. At first, she was exhausted and was able to sleep. But soon the pain from her throat and arm, the frustration of being unable to communicate, and the claustrophobia of Moss’s tiny back bedroom got to her.

Celia was very kind, bringing up trays of warm soup and magazines, and Jacob came to visit her when he got back from school. A couple of times he brought his little DVD player and they sat in bed and watched Minions and Hotel Transylvania.

The details of the case went round and round in Erika’s mind. She went back to when Andrea’s body was found under the ice, then to meeting her family – Simon and Diana, who lived such busy lives that they parented at arm’s length. Linda and David were like chalk and cheese, and had had vastly different relationships with Andrea, neither knowing what their sister was doing on the night she vanished. Not knowing why she went to a grotty, dangerous pub in South London to meet George Mitchell and the as yet still unidentified blonde-haired woman. And then there was Ivy Norris, who had seen Andrea and her companions that night, quite by chance. So too had the barmaid, Kristina. Neither of them was around to tell the full story.