‘Who let you in?’ said Jasper, noticing Erika at the door. ‘Are you here to tell me about my knives?’
‘Hello, sorry to intrude,’ said Erika. At the mention of knives, she noticed a long magnetic strip above the steel benches where groups of metal spoons and forks were attached and interspersed with big gaps. Erika remembered that her forensics team had taken away all the knives in the restaurant for testing. They still didn’t have a murder weapon.
‘Do you have news about Vicky?’ asked Tess, her tearstained face hopeful.
‘Yes, we’ve found her, safe and sound. She went to stay with a teacher from drama school in Scotland.’
‘Oh! She’s really okay?’ Erika nodded. ‘When can I see her?’
‘We’re flying her back to London this afternoon. I want to talk to her at the station, but we can have her back with you tonight.’
‘Oh. Thank you. That’s good. That’s good, isn’t it, Jasper?’ she asked, turning to him. She hesitated and then gave him a hug. He nodded and look relieved.
‘Yes, that’s very good news. Thank you, officer…’ He looked around the kitchen as Tess held onto him. She buried her head in his chest.
‘If there’s anything more you need, any questions, you can call Fiona and I’ll make sure she keeps you up to date with Vicky’s journey back,’ said Erika. She went to leave them in peace, and noticed the magnetic knife rack again. ‘I don’t know when we can get your knives back. I will ask though, I understand that they’re important for your business.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Jasper, sounding defeated. ‘Thank you.’ He kissed Tess on the top of her head. Erika left the kitchen. The barman had left, and it was quiet in the empty dining area, so quiet that she could hear the fridges humming. When she left the restaurant and came out onto the street, she could see the other bars and restaurants were busy with people.
Her phone buzzed with a text message, and she saw that the police escort had just arrived with Vicky at Glasgow airport, ready for her flight back to London.
27
Erika looked down at the cigarette between her fingers, the tip glowing red in the darkness. She took a drag and exhaled the smoke into the pale orange sky. It was now dark, and she was standing on the steps in front of the police station, waiting for the squad car which had gone to collect Vicky from London City Airport. Moss came out of the front entrance, and joined her on the steps.
‘Jeez. You’re back on the smokes?’ she said, crossing her arms over her chest and huddling down against the cold.
‘Don’t. I’m annoyed with myself. It’s this case,’ said Erika. ‘And they say that moving house is just as stressful as a death in the family.’
‘Try saying that to Maria Ivanova… It was awful at the morgue. She was so angry when she had to identify her sister’s body. I’ve never seen anything like it. She actually shouted.’
‘She shouted at you?’
‘No. At Sophia’s body.’
‘What did she shout?’
‘I don’t know. It was in Bulgarian, maybe it was a stream of consciousness. There was one word she kept saying. Putka. And then all at once, the rage seemed to drain from her body and she leant over, cried and stroked her sister’s hair…’
‘Putka is the “c” word in Bulgarian,’ said Erika.
‘I thought I was used to things in this job, doing it for so long, but then something gets to you,’ said Moss. She wiped a tear from her eye. Erika put out a hand, and gripped Moss’s arm for a moment. She wiped her eyes. ‘I’m being silly. Give me one of those cigarettes.’
‘Are you sure?’
Moss nodded. Erika offered the packet and she took one, then she flicked her lighter and held out the flame.
‘Lower. I’m not a giantess like you,’ said Moss. Erika smiled and lowered her arm. Moss leant in and the tip of her cigarette burst into a glow. She inhaled and coughed. ‘What time did Vicky’s plane land?’
Erika checked her watch, and she saw it was almost 8pm.
‘An hour ago. City Airport isn’t far. They said they were going to blue light her over…’ Erika’s phone rang and she took it out of her pocket. It was a number she didn’t recognise. ‘Okay. This could be them… Hello?’ There was a pause and then a man with a Slovak accent spoke.
‘I’m just outside your house. Is twenty-seven the one with the red door?’ he asked.