Henrietta gave a loud yell of ‘Oh no!’ which made everyone on the steps snap their heads over to watch as the two officers pursued Charles across the car park. They caught up with him at the edge of the gravel, where a line of bushes sat. There was grass on the other side, which banked down steeply and the grassy hill ended at the bottom where a small sign heralded it as The Garden of Mourning. Frazer grabbed Charles’s jacket, but he slithered out of it, and then seemed to lose his footing and fall under the hedgerow, evading the two officers and rolling down the grassy bank.
‘Get him!’ shouted Frazer. ‘Don’t let him get away!’
By now, any hope of a quiet arrest had evaporated. Jasper had joined Tess on the crematorium steps and was shouting at Erika and Moss.
‘What are you doing? He’s an old man! You fucking thugs!’
Erika and Moss ran off across the gravel and as they reached the sparse row of hedges, and The Garden of Mourning, they could see through to the grassy bank on the other side where Frazer had Charles pinned down with his knee in his back. The other officer was kneeling over Charles’s head, reading him his rights. And all the while Charles was making high-pitched squealing noises, like a piglet struggling to get free.
Erika turned to see the mourners all standing with their mouths open. The only person who didn’t look surprised or particularly distressed was Jasper’s father, Conrad, and his mother, who was standing neatly at the bottom of the steps with her handbag in the crook of her arm.
Erika and Moss hurried around the line of bushes, to where the police officers had Charles on the ground.
‘Get off him!’ Erika shouted. ‘Now!’ She was horrified at how this had all happened in such a short time.
Frazer took his knee off Charles’s back and Fryatt sat back. They were both panting with the exertion. It was then that Erika saw that Charles had stopped squealing and he lay very still, face down on the grass. She hurried to his side and gently rolled him over. He was muttering and rolling his eyes.
‘My arm! He broke my arm!’ he cried with a ragged fury in his voice.
‘Call an ambulance,’ said Erika. She started to read Charles Wakefield his rights, but then his eyelids fluttered and his head lolled to the side. He was unconscious.
55
The police station was quiet, and a hush had descended over the corridors when Erika and Moss arrived back in Lewisham Row that evening.
‘Do you want me to come upstairs with you? I’ll tell them straight what happened,’ said Moss.
‘No. You get home to Celia and your kids. I’ll deal with this,’ said Erika. She was grateful to Moss for showing support, and she knew her colleague meant it, but Erika was the senior officer, and she’d made the call to arrest Charles Wakefield.
‘Good luck. And let me know how it goes,’ said Moss, squeezing Erika’s arm.
She started to climb the stairs, feeling exhausted. She stopped at the top of the stairwell and looked out over the twinkling carpet of London stretching far away. It was a clear night, and she could see the coloured lights of the London Eye by the Thames.
‘Sounds like you had quite a day?’ said Melanie, when Erika sat in front of her desk. Her face didn’t give anything away. She looked tired, thought Erika, and overwhelmed by reams of paperwork and files on her desk and in piles on the floor around her office.
‘I had no choice but to arrest Charles Wakefield. The manner of his arrest was unfortunate,’ said Erika. She then went on to explain what they’d learned from Becky and Kathleen. And that Crane had discovered no DNA swab had been taken on Charles Wakefield’s first arrest.
‘I will be conducting a full investigation as to why a swab wasn’t taken. It has happened before,’ said Melanie, her face creased with concern.
‘But it’s a funny coincidence, don’t you think?’ said Erika, raising an eyebrow. ‘Do I need to repeat who his brother is?’
‘Trust me when I say I’m not going to brush this under the carpet.’
‘Has Marsh been in contact?’
‘No. This is nothing to do with Commander Marsh. This is your investigation and this is my station,’ said Melanie.
‘Thank you,’ said Erika, feeling relief. She couldn’t deal with either of them right now.
‘What is the medical status of Charles Wakefield tonight?’ asked Melanie.
‘I don’t know if he feigned unconsciousness when we arrested him… He was read his rights, but the paramedic refused to let me take a DNA swab.’