50
A week passed, and then another. The case seemed to slow down, and with a dwindling list of suspects and their seeming inability to connect the two murders, it became more of a slog. The bodies of both Sophia Ivanova and Vicky Clarke were released from the pathologist, and Maria Ivanova had Sophia’s body repatriated, and flew back to Bulgaria.
A DNA swab was taken from Reece Robinson at Lewisham Hospital, and there was no match to either crime scene, and his one-night stand confirmed that he’d been with her on the afternoon of Sophia’s murder in North London. Shawn Macavity’s DNA swab was taken, and some residual DNA was found in the recording studio in Vicky’s flat, but this would have been expected if he’d helped her work on her podcast. It still troubled Erika that there was an hour of his time unaccounted for after he found Sophia’s body, and there were no witnesses to prove he did or didn’t spend that hour walking on the heath.
Sheila, the administrator from Goldsmith’s Drama Academy, sent through the details of reported sexual assaults within the alumni. But it was threadbare and only applied to students who had studied at GDA. Very little in the way of records had been kept, which just made Erika and the team all the more suspicious. Kathleen Barber, Becky Wayland and Grace Leith were also proving difficult to track down. They were no longer known at the addresses on their police files. There was still a big puzzle: how had Vicky found them? They had only ever auditioned for GDA, and never been part of the faculty.
Late in the second week, Erika scored a small breakthrough. Looking through a Facebook page for former students of GDA she found a follower called Becky Church-Wayland. There was no profile photo and little information. Erika sent a message to the account, explaining who she was, and that she needed to talk to her in connection with Vicky Clarke’s podcast. She heard nothing for a week, then an email arrived late on a Monday night.
It was Becky Wayland, now Becky Church-Wayland, confirming that she would be attending Vicky’s funeral the next day in Worthing. She didn’t include a phone number, but Erika replied with hers, saying that she would be attending the funeral with Moss.
The next morning, Tuesday 13th November, Erika and Moss drove down to Worthing in Kent. It had been Vicky’s wish to have her funeral in her home town. It was a two-hour drive from London, so they set off at seven thirty in the morning for the 11am funeral.
It felt strange for Erika and Moss to come back to Worthing. They had an odd connection to the town. It was where they had done surveillance two years previously, and tracked down the killer in the Night Stalker case.
As they drove into the town and took the road along the seafront, the sky was a beautiful gold and blue against a low bank of slivery cloud. The sea was completely still and flat, and reflecting the sky. The beach was clean and empty. It looked almost idyllic. Both their heads turned to the row of Victorian terraces.
‘It was that one, number thirty-four,’ said Moss, pointing out the green front door to the bedsit as it whizzed past. This was where Erika had confronted the Night Stalker killer, whilst Moss and Peterson sat two doors down, oblivious to what was unfolding. Erika glanced.
‘Let’s hope Worthing weaves its magic again for us,’ she said.
‘Magic? What do you mean?’ Moss grinned. ‘You almost died in number thirty-four!’
‘But I found the killer.’
‘If we do have a breakthrough, let’s hope it’s a less dramatic one,’ said Moss. They carried on past the seafront, and Worthing Theatre sitting on the end of the pier like a huge high-sprung pram.
The church was set back from the promenade, a small butter-coloured brick building with a copper roof and spire which had long ago weathered to a soft teal colour. They found a parking spot three roads away, and then doubled back. The air was crisp and clear and Erika could smell the tang of the sea in her nostrils. The town seemed very sleepy for a Tuesday morning, until they drew closer to the church where they found a big group of smartly dressed young men and women who looked to be in their mid-twenties. Shawn was with the group, dressed in a black suit and polished shoes. His long hair was scraped back into a ponytail.
Erika and Moss slowed a little to let the group into the church, and then went in through the main entrance. The pews in the church were filled almost to the back. There must have been a hundred people, thought Erika. Shawn was giving out the order of service with another young guy on the other side of the aisle. He stiffly said hello to Moss and Erika as they came in. They took an order of service each and found two seats on the end of row of pews at the back.