‘What is it, Erika?’ he said.
She quickly outlined what had happened when Vicky had seen Charles Wakefield at the station, and explained the problem with the CCTV footage.
‘Jesus. You wake me up for this?’
‘Paul, I can’t verify Charles Wakefield’s alibi for when Sophia was killed.’
‘Sophia?’
‘Yes, it was Sophia Ivanova who was killed, her body was wrongly identified as Vicky Clarke!’ she snapped.
‘Alright, don’t bite my head off, you have just woken me up,’ said Marsh.
‘I need to prove Charles Wakefield is telling the truth and that he went into London, which gives him an alibi for when Sophia was murdered.’
‘Come on, Erika, use your head. Go to that train station and get the staff member in the ticket office to verify it was him.’
‘What if they can’t? I need to bring him in for questioning, but Melanie is subtly warning me away, and the Assistant Commissioner pulled that charity stunt this evening, which sent a very clear message, even if everyone is insisting it was just a coincidence!’
Marsh sighed.
‘Don’t you have Charles Wakefield’s DNA from his arrest?’
‘Yes.’
‘If you get a match with DNA at the crime scene, then you’re free to arrest him, but until then, you need to tread carefully. I don’t know what else you want me to say?’
Erika suddenly realised this phone call could have waited until morning. She’d allowed her anger and frustration to spill over.
‘I dunno, maybe I just want someone to tell me that I’m not imagining things. That my instinct is right.’
‘I was never an instinct copper,’ said Marsh, in a rare moment of self-deprecation. ‘I’m far better at brown-nosing in boardrooms.’
Erika laughed.
‘Sorry to call so late.’
‘Have you got any other suspects?’
‘The boyfriend, Shawn Macavity. We have an hour or so of his time unaccounted for after he found Sophia’s body. Again, we’re waiting on getting a DNA sample from him. And, I dunno, I don’t think he did it.’
‘That isn’t enough.’
‘I know, it’s my instinct though, and it’s rarely wrong.’
‘Watch that instinct, it’ll get you into trouble.’
‘Oh, it has, many times already,’ said Erika.
‘Good night, and good luck. I’m sure you’ll have this sewn up in no time,’ said Marsh. ‘And feel free to call at a more sociable time if you need anything.’
When Erika came off the phone, she knew he was talking rubbish and trying to boost her confidence, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
32
A short distance away from Erika’s house, Vicky lay in the darkness of her sister’s living room. The ceilings were low, like a country cottage’s, and the house was very old, so it gave off strange creaks and groans. The front room and living room had been knocked into one, creating a long room with a double aspect view. The front window looked out from the living room half to the road out front, and the kitchen windows at the back looked out over a small yard with a huge ancient oak tree. A train rushed past on the tracks at the bottom of the garden, and as the ceiling creaked again, Vicky shivered and tried to get comfy under her blankets on the small sofa.
The fight with Tess had been terrible, but could she blame her? How would I feel if the shoe was on the other foot, and she’d gone missing? thought Vicky. And on top of all this Tess had other problems to deal with. She knew that the restaurant hadn’t been doing well. Their rent was sky-high, and this coupled with the mortgage for the renovations on their house meant they were having money worries. And Jasper. How did he feel about her coming back from the dead? Not much, from the look of him. She’d never quite understood the dynamic of her sister’s marriage. Jasper was the one who came from money, but seemed to have no concept of it. It was always down to Tess to manage things. If the subject ever came up, Jasper would always make Tess feel common and low for ‘talking about money’， something he’d inherited from his background.
Vicky closed her eyes and shivered again. She was still dressed, and covered in three blankets and a duvet, but she couldn’t get warm. She knew in her mind that she was skirting around the big issue – Sophia.
A car went puttering past on the road outside, and then all the sound seemed to fall away and an eerie quiet settled over the living room. She heard the rustle of dry leaves in the courtyard out back, and then, there was a soft knocking. She held her breath. No. That was one of the old house noises. A wooden floorboard, or beam, settling. The knock came again, slightly louder, from the back door.