‘If those CCTV images check out, then that will give you comfort, I’m sure,’ said Erika. Tess closed her eyes, and opened them again.
‘Comfort? My sister is dead. My house is still crawling with forensics officers, I’ve just told my husband I want a divorce, and I’m left as the only one holding everything together,’ she said, speaking through gritted teeth. ‘Our restaurant and our home are in danger of being repossessed, and this flat, if I can rent it out, might just keep the bank off our backs, but until I clean up the fucking blood and gore, nobody is going to rent it!’ Her voice rose to a crescendo at the end.
‘I’m very sorry, Tess,’ said Erika. ‘We just have a couple of quick questions which could really help our investigations.’
‘Go on.’
‘We asked Jasper about this—’
‘I don’t want to talk about his conviction for rape.’
‘It’s not about that. Did Vicky ever leave any notebooks, data drives or USB keys at your house or Goose? And by that I mean in relation to the work she did on her podcast? The reason I ask this is we think that she had been researching a podcast episode, and she’d uncovered the identity of a man who was assaulting students at her former drama school.’
Tess stood there for a moment, thinking.
‘No. She never left things at work. And I always used to come and visit her here, she rarely came to our house…’ Tess frowned. ‘When you talk about these assaults, do you think that Jasper was the person who did them?’ Her voice was small and defeated.
‘Two of the assaults that we have on police record happened in January and February 2012. Jasper wasn’t released from his jail sentence until May 2012. He couldn’t have done it,’ said Erika. Tess breathed out, relieved.
‘Vicky never talked about her podcast, or she probably knew that I wasn’t interested.’
‘Did she ever borrow money from you, saying that she needed to pay actors?’
‘Pay them for what?’
‘To work on her podcast.’
‘No… Sorry.’ Tess’s emotions seemed to have turned one-eighty and she now sounded meek and beaten down. ‘She did so many random acting jobs, I tuned out in the end.’
When Erika and Peterson left Vicky’s flat, Charles Wakefield was in the foyer, opening his box with a key. He eyed them over his shoulder and took out a pile of letters.
‘Good morning,’ said Erika. He nodded, closed the box and locked it again. ‘I haven’t had the chance to talk to you about the other evening.’
‘And what happened the other evening?’ he said, turning. His jowly face seemed to turn a millisecond after the rest of his body.
‘When I saw you at Lewisham Row police station—’
‘I was there to give a charitable donation with my brother, whom I’m sure you are aware is—’
‘Yes we know who he is,’ said Erika. ‘Vicky Clarke had a very odd reaction to seeing you there. Do you know why?’
‘No, I don’t. I understand that she’d had a very stressful experience, and then she was hauled back to the police station late at night. I think I would have had a similar reaction…’
Erika nodded. The feeling was starting to come back into the side of her face after being slapped, and it was aching. She felt a sudden wave of hopelessness about the case. Both women were dead, and everyone they spoke to seemed to know nothing, or were very skilled at holding back information.
‘I’ve just heard the news that the poor girl was killed yesterday morning,’ Charles added. ‘And before you ask, I have an alibi for Thursday night. I stayed at my brother’s house. After the presentation at Lewisham Row, we dined at the Ivy late, and then I went back to stay at his house in Central London, and left the following morning. He has a house in Grosvenor Square. I’m sure he’d be happy to confirm this.’
Of course he would, thought Erika.
‘Now if that will be all, officers,’ he said. He started off to his front door and flicked through his letters. He gave a little yelp, an odd noise which made Erika and Peterson turn back to him.
‘Is everything okay?’ asked Peterson. They saw that Charles was gripping an envelope in his shaking hand. He turned and held the pile of letters to his chest.
‘Yes,’ he said, his face breaking into a hasty smile. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Just surprised to get a letter from an old friend.’
They watched him as he went to his door and let himself inside, and then Erika and Peterson made their way back to Lewisham Row station.