Nine Lives by Anita Waller (korean novels in english .TXT) 📕

he walked up to the top garage, knowing his boss, along with Mike and Sam, were there. He stood outside for a moment, unsure how to handle the situation. Then he knocked on the door and shouted out Mike’s name.

The door lifted and Kev looked inside. His DI was clearly in shock, clutching on to a mug of tea. She was sitting on the garden chair, Sam and Adam sitting on the sleeping bag.

‘Boss,’ he said gently, ‘you still in charge?’

She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts, and looked at the young man in front of her.

‘I suppose I am until I get back to the station. Then they’ll send me home so fast my feet won’t touch the ground. You need me for something, Kev?’

‘No, boss, only information for you. The car has gone, Will’s taken that straight to Forensics, but the team are inside the garage. I believe they’ve now locked up the case so tight…’ He paused, wondering how to make the find sound not so horrific. He couldn’t think of any way to soften it so carried on. ‘In the corner of the garage is a small generator and there’s an old fridge plugged into it. One of the old kind with a little freezer top box. Inside that top box they’ve found nine plastic bags each containing the tip of a little finger. They’ve also found her stash of Propofol.’

Erica felt her stomach churn once again, and she took several sips of the tea, hoping to distract it from wanting to splatter yet more stomach contents over the floor of Adam’s garage.

‘Thank you, Kev.’ Her voice shook as she spoke, and she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She wiped it away. No weakness in front of her team.

But they could see the weakness, feel her pain.

She handed Adam the almost-empty cup and smiled at him. ‘You’re an exceptional young man, Adam, and I’ll make sure you get some recompense for the help you’ve given us today. I know you have Sam and Mike’s numbers, but this one is mine. If you need anything, ring it.’ She handed him her card and stood. ‘I have to go back to the station, Mike, and speak to the Super.’

Mike nodded, and all the police officers shook Adam’s hand before leaving his garage. Erica stopped as they approached the garage that had held the Fiesta and one of the Forensics team saw her peering in. ‘Ma’am? You okay?’

‘I am, but I needed to see the layout inside.’ Needed to see where my wife must have spent so much of her time.

Mike put his arm around her shoulder and gently steered her away. ‘Come on, boss. Let’s get you sorted. You can leave this to others now.’

The briefing room held many people, but it was quiet. After such a successful result as this case had given, there would have normally been raucous laughter and jubilation, but a boss such as Erica, a much-admired DI, to be right at the heart of that result meant no celebrations.

She walked in, flanked by Mike and Sam, and everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards her.

‘Thank you, everybody,’ she began. ‘As you all know we appear to have everything we need for a conviction in this case, and we must make sure our paperwork is spot on. I probably won’t be here for a bit, my life is too closely tied to the killer’s life.’ She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. ‘I’m relying on you to get it right, so don’t let me down.’

She turned and walked towards the door, afraid to say any more. She couldn’t let them see tears.

The applause began before she had gone three steps, and for a split second she hesitated, then carried on outside the room and down the corridor towards the lift. The applause was still there as the lift carried her to the ground floor.

Erica arrived home to find Beth on the sofa, reading. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I am.’ Beth looked puzzled. ‘I didn’t expect you home until much later than this. It’s been lovely to relax without having constant temperature and blood pressure checks. I had a lovely long shower…’

Erica finally let the tears flow.

‘Oh my God! What’s wrong? What’s happened? You didn’t catch her?’

Erica sank into the armchair, and reached across for the box of tissues. She dried her face, attempted to stop it getting wet again unsuccessfully, and Beth stood carefully and walked over to her. ‘I can’t hug you,’ she said, ‘but it looks as though you need one. I can make us a hot drink, and I can certainly pour us a brandy if you’ve got any.’

Erica nodded and pointed to a sideboard at the back of the room.

A minute later they both cradled a brandy glass filled with more than a single brandy, and Beth waited.

‘Drink that, and talk when you can.’

Erica sipped at the brandy, feeling it hit her stomach and hoping it wouldn’t cause her to race to the toilet for another bout of vomiting. She didn’t know how to talk about the afternoon’s events, didn’t know how to react to her Super’s words of internal investigations and garden leave for the foreseeable future.

It was the worry etched on Beth’s face that made Erica start to talk and once she had started she couldn’t stop.

‘It’s Frannie. Frannie is our killer. Honest to God, Beth, nothing in our life would ever have led me to see that. I’ve been going over and over things in my mind and although I’ve not looked in my journal yet, I know now, with hindsight, that her late-night meetings are all going to coincide with the murders of these girls.’

‘You keep a journal?’

‘I do. It’s so I don’t forget things, and it winds me down filling it in for half an hour at the end of each day. I make a note of mainly nice things that happen, or plans we’ve made, and we always