The Night Stalker (Detective Erika Foster 2)

Erika nodded.

Penny’s face clouded over. ‘She didn’t phone me. I had to find out from some copper knocking on the door. That says a lot about her, doesn’t it?’

‘It wasn’t her responsibility to inform you. She was taken to hospital with shock,’ said Moss.

‘She mentioned that there was an incident between Gregory and your brother, Gary?’ asked Peterson.

At the mention of Gary, Penny stiffened. ‘It was just a row, family stuff,’ she said, hastily.

‘She said it was a physical fight.’

‘Yeah, well, boys will be boys,’ said Penny.

‘But they were grown men. Your brother has been in trouble with the police before,’ added Peterson.

Penny’s eyes darted between the three officers. She stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray with a heap of old dog ends. ‘My brother’s on probation for attacking a bloke in New Cross,’ she said, exhaling cigarette smoke up to the ceiling. ‘He’s a bouncer in a club. The bloke was off his head on drugs, so it was self-defence. But Gary – he went too far. You leave him out of this. I know my brother isn’t a saint, but there is no way he had anything to do with this, you hear me?’

‘Is that what made you jump earlier, at the front door? Did you think it was Gary?’ asked Erika.

‘Look, why the hell are you here?’ Penny folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. ‘I’ve already had coppers at the door telling me and asking questions. Shouldn’t you be out there trying to catch this bloke?’

‘We never said it was a bloke,’ said Moss.

‘Don’t get smart. You know most killers are men,’ said Penny.

Erika shot Moss a look: she could see that Penny was closing down on them. ‘Okay, okay, Mrs Munro. I’m sorry. We’re not investigating your brother. We have to ask these questions, to build up a picture and help us catch who did this.’

Penny lit another cigarette. ‘You want one?’ she asked. Moss and Peterson shook their heads, but Erika took one from the packet. Penny lit it for her.

‘Gregory wanted to send Peter to boarding school,’ Penny said. ‘To send him away, a little boy! I put my foot down and said no. The weekend before Peter was due to start at the local primary school, I found out Gregory had cancelled Peter’s registration, and had gone ahead and accepted the place at the boarding school!’

‘When was this?’

‘Easter. I phoned Gregory, but he told me Peter would be going that Monday, and I wasn’t to stand in the way of him getting a decent education. It was as good as abduction! So Gary went round to get Peter. He kicked the door in, but he didn’t… He wasn’t violent, okay? Estelle was there. She went after Gary with a glass ashtray, and then it all kicked off. Bet she left that part out, didn’t she?’

‘So you’d say your relationship with Estelle isn’t good?’

Penny laughed bitterly. ‘She’s a bitch. She creates fantasies to excuse her son’s behaviour. When we got together, she hated me on sight… She ruined everything: our engagement party, the wedding. Gregory’s father died when he was small; Gregory was an only child and it made them depend on each other, him and his mum. What do you call it? Co-dependent. I thought at the beginning of our marriage that I might win him over, or at least become the person who was the closest to him, but she made sure I was always second in line. Sounds bloody pathetic, don’t it? I hear myself telling you all about it and I sound pathetic.’

Erika looked at Moss and Peterson, realising that there was one more question she had to ask.

‘Mrs Munro, I am sorry to have to ask this, but did you know of your husband having any relationships with men?’

‘What do you mean? Friends? He didn’t have many friends.’

‘I mean, sexual relationships with men.’

Penny looked between them. The clock ticked in the background. The kitchen door suddenly flew open and crashed into the fridge behind. A small, compact man with a bald head strode in. He wore jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of black lace-up boots. Sweat glistened off his head, and patches bloomed under his armpits and dotted his chest. He carried with him a dank, sweaty smell of aggression. His face was a mixture of confusion and fury.

‘Sexual relationships with men? What the fuck is this?’ he demanded.

‘Are you Gary Wilmslow?’ asked Erika.

‘Yeah. Who are you?’

‘Sir, I’m DCI Foster. This is DI Moss and DI Peterson,’ said Erika. They rose and held up their ID badges.