Dark Water: A gripping serial killer thriller

  ‘I worked for Chief Superintendent, sorry, Commander Marsh.’

  She closed the file, and took off her glasses, slipping one of the stems into the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Your move to Bromley South was a demotion. A lower pay grade. Why?’

  ‘She felt she was being overlooked,’ said Marsh.

  ‘There was an opportunity for a promotion to Superintendent, for which I believe I was overlooked, by your predecessor Marm. This was at the time when I successfully caught Simone Matthews who…’

  ‘The Night Stalker killer. She went on quite the rampage,’ said Camilla. In her plummy tones, Erika couldn’t tell if she was expressing horror or admiration.

  ‘I took what I believed was a stand and I challenged Commander Marsh who was my senior officer at the time, threatening to leave. However he took me up on it…’

  ‘But it’s Commander Marsh who called me and has been quite insistent that you run the Jessica Collins case,’ said Camilla, chewing on the stem of her glasses.

  ‘I feel that DCI Foster still has much she can offer…’ started Marsh. Camilla replaced her glasses and looked back at the file.

  ‘You’ve had quite a chequered career. Along with The Night Stalker, you were responsible for catching multiple murderer David Douglas-Brown, multiple murderer Barry Paton…’

  ‘The York Strangler, marm.’

  ‘I have it all here. The York Strangler killed eight school girls, and you made quite a leap, identifying him from the reflection caught in a shop window opposite his doctors surgery…’

  ‘Yes, and he still thanks me for it every Christmas and birthday.’

  Marsh grinned, but Camilla did not,

  ‘You weren’t so lucky with some of your other cases. You were suspended two years ago pending an investigation…’

  ‘I was subsequently cleared…’

  ‘If you’ll let me finish. You were suspended pending an investigation. You led a drug raid on an estate in Greater Manchester, resulting in the deaths of five officers, one of whom was your husband.’

  Erika nodded.

  ‘How do you come back from that?’ asked Camilla, again watching her closely as she chewed on the stem of her glasses.

  ‘I received counselling, I almost lost track of who I was, and if I wanted to stay in the force. But I did come back, and the results are in my file in front of you. I know in the past I’ve locked horns with my senior officers, but I have always aimed for one goal and that’s to uphold the law to the highest standards, and catch the bad guys.’

  ‘The bad guys!’ Camilla exclaimed with a grin, which then quickly vanished. ‘The Jessica Collins case shares much with the Madeline McGann case in its notoriety and complexity. I need an officer who is strong, smart, and media savvy to navigate the re-opening of this investigation. Why do you think you’re the one for the job?’

  ‘I’m not a career police officer. I dedicate myself totally to cases, and I don’t give up until I’ve found the killer. It won’t be about my career, it will be about finding justice for Jessica. I want her family to be able to move on and grieve.’

  Erika sat back, she realised she was sweating. Marsh looked a little uncomfortable too.

  ‘Justice for Jessica, we could use that,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ said Camilla shooting him a withering look. ‘Would you mind waiting outside for a moment, DCI Foster?’

  Erika came back out to the waiting area. The girl behind the desk didn’t look up. The magazines were neatly back in their fan.

  So many times she thought her career was over, and here she was, again at the start of something exciting. Was she at the edge of a step up, or a precipice? she thought.

  There was a chime from the phone behind the desk and the girl asked Erika to go back into the office.

  Camilla was pulling her police jacket on and straightening her hair by a coat stand in the corner. Marsh stood patiently by her desk.

  ‘DCI Foster. Thank you for coming in today. I’m pleased to say, we’d like to put you in as the Senior Investigating Officer on the Jessica Collins case.’

  ‘Thank you, Marm. You won’t regret your decision.’

  Camilla pulled on her braided cap and adjusted it in the mirror and turned.

  ‘I hope you don’t regret it,’ she came over and shook Erika’s hand, realising she had to look up at her. ‘Commander Marsh will brief you on the full details. I have to fly, I’m due at a meeting with the Commissioner.’

  ‘Please give my regards to Sir Brian,’ said Marsh. Camilla nodded and showed them to the door.

  * * *

  Erika and Marsh rode down in the lift in silence.

  ‘You’ll be running the case from the incident room at Bromley South, I’ll be overseeing this, and you’ll report to me.’

  ‘What about Superintendent Yale?’

  ‘Hasn’t he got enough on his plate?’

  ‘He thinks I went behind his back.’

  ‘You did go behind his back.’

  ‘But it wasn’t personal.’

  ‘Things always seem personal with you, Erika.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I never know what you’re thinking. You’re direct to the point of being brutal. You don’t trust many people.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And, it’s tough to work with that.’

  ‘If I were a male DCI, would we be having this conversation in a lift? Would you be asking what I’m thinking?’ Marsh scowled and looked away. ‘What’s going on here? Is this about the other night?’

  Marsh looked at the floor for a moment then back up her. ‘You need to do your job here, DCI Foster, and you need to do it well.’

  ‘I always do.’

  ‘The fuck -ups on the last investigation nearly led to an inquiry. Make this right. Find who did this. Close the case.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘I’ll be making arrangements for all files and materials relating to the two previous investigations to be sent over to Bromley Cross Station,’ said Marsh now sounding businesslike. ‘You need to get your incident room up and running and there will be a briefing with your team at 3pm.’

  ‘So are you in charge or am I?’

  ‘You’ll report to me, I’ll report to the Assistant Commissioner. You’ll also need to work closely with Superintendent Yale as you’ll be utilising his resources.’

  ‘Do I get to choose my team?’

  ‘Who do you have in mind?’ asked Marsh.

  12

  Erika didn’t see Superintendent Yale until the next morning when she was about to go into her first briefing as SIO in one of the top floor conference rooms at Bromley Station.

  He was coming down the hall with a steaming mug of tea, which said, ‘Who’s the boss?’ Erika saw it and quickly looked away, but he noticed.

  ‘Sorry I haven’t been able to come and talk to you, Sir. Yesterday was a little crazy. I had to get up to speed on the Jessica Collins case and…’

  ‘So you’ve been given your own corner of my station?’

  ‘I haven’t been given it, Sir. It was recently vacated by Operation Hawthorne, the Human trafficking enquiry. And I’ll be briefing you all the time as we’ll be using civilian support staff. And I’ve also requested DC Mc Gorry join the team. He was with me when I recovered the body, and he’s a great officer.’

  ‘You think I can spare him?’

  ‘It would be an opportunity for him to join, well what I believe is a murder enquiry. He’s got a good people skills. People respond well to him. We’re going to have to tease a lot of information out of people who might be reluctant to talk. He puts them at ease.’

  Yale scratched at his hair, which stood up in a messy red fuzz.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And I’ve requested two officers from my old nick in Lewisham, DI Peterson and DI Moss. Brilliant officers.’

  ‘It’s your team.’

  ’I’m just keeping you in the loop, Sir.’

  M
arsh appeared at the end of the corridor behind Yale,

  ‘I need your final report on my desk for the Jason Tyler case. I’m handing over everything to the CPS. He was denied bail, he’s got a preliminary hearing next month.’

  ‘Very good, Sir. I’ll have that report done for you.’

  ‘Good afternoon,’ said Marsh. Yale turned and clocked his uniform.

  ‘Good to see you, Sir.’

  ‘I’m here for the first briefing. DCI Foster will be reporting to me, but of course I respect that this is your nick and I will endeavour to keep you up to speed with everything, and so will Erika, DCI Foster.’

  There was an awkward moment before Yale excused himself and moved off down the corridor. Erika took a deep breath and they went into the conference room. Four long tables were arranged in a square, and all seats were full. It was a mixture of support staff, the police media liaison team, some new faces she didn’t know yet, the CID officers she’d been assigned.

  ‘Good afternoon everyone,’ said Marsh. ‘I’ll make my part of this brief. This is complex case, wth a great deal of emotion attached to it. Two previous MET police investigations have failed to solve this, and Jessica Collins disappearance captured the public’s attention. We also have to tread a fine line with the Collins family, and remain sensitive but alert. As I always say, everyone is a suspect… DCI Foster is SIO on this case and you will take everything to her. She will be reporting to me on all aspects. Thank you in advance for being part of this investigation and I’ll now hand over to DCI Foster.’

  Marsh went to a corner and stood by the door and Erika moved to the front. There was a knock at the door as another delivery of cardboard file boxes were brought in on a trolley and placed with a growing pile along the back wall. Erika stared at the rows of faces, waiting expectantly.

  ‘Good afternoon everyone. Thank you for making yourselves available so quickly…’ Erika went on to give them a brief outline of the Jessica Collins case, and the developments so far. ‘With this case we’re opening a Pandora’s box, or should I say, many boxes,’ she added alluding to the case files which had grown as she spoke and were now piled high, filling the length of the back wall. ‘What we all need to do is focus in on the facts pertaining to Jessica’s disappearance. Ignore the fiction, of which there is much. As well as this vast amount of paperwork generated by the two previous failed investigations, there are two documentaries about Jessica’s disappearance, four books have been published, and there are reams and reams of tabloid articles. We all know the saying that yesterdays news is todays chip paper, but unfortunately a lot of those chip papers will have stuck in the minds of the public. Ingraining the lies and inaccuracies that have been written… We can’t predict how the discovery of Jessica Collins remains will run in the media, but we have to stay ahead of things. And unlike the 1990s, the challenge may be even greater. We now have rolling news, social media, blogs and online forums, all of whom will dredge things up and regurgitate them twenty-four seven. So, these files along the wall need to be re-visited, top to tail, and fast. We also need to build up a profile from the results of the autopsy…’

  There was a knock at the door and John entered, looking worried and breathless.

  ‘Is this where I’m supposed to be?’ he asked looking around.

  Erika nodded. ‘This is Detective Constable John Mc Gorry. He was with me when we discovered Jessica’s remains. Take a seat, John.’ Erika went on,

  ‘I need all witness statements to be re-visited and cross-checked, and I want a timeline of events up here on the boards. The days leading up to and Jessica’s disappearance. I want to know everything about Hayes Quarry. What it’s been used for over the years. Why was Jessica’s body never found? I’m going straight from here to inform the Collins family, who will no doubt have many questions for me. The moment the family is informed, we’ll be making a statement to the media. I need you to hit the ground running with this one. We’ll report back here tomorrow morning at 10 am. John you’re with me.’

  The incident room leapt to life.

  ‘Sorry, Boss. I only just heard I was with you, which is great…’ said John coming over. “Where are we going?’

  ‘We have to inform the family. Detective Constable Nancy Greene was the original family liaison officer for the Matthews family. She’s now retired, but has agreed to accompany us.’

  ‘Where do they live now?’

  ‘In the same house they were in when Jessica disappeared,’ said Erika.

  13

  Marianne Collins unlocked her front door and staggered into the porch, laden down with shopping bags. She used her elbow to open the inner door, and was greeted by the large, empty carpeted hallway. It was a dark and dingy afternoon, and she’d left all the lights on. At a push she could cope with the gloom, but it was the emptiness. She felt it in her house and her heart. She left the shopping pooled on the carpet by the large wooden staircase, took her coat off and hung it on the coat stand by the mirror.

  Her shoulder length gray hair was parted and tied back at the nape of her neck. It seemed to drag her face down at each side, further accentuating her broken-heartedness. On the wall behind her was a large picture of Our Lady, the blessed Virgin Mary. It’s beauty never failed to move her. Mary stood on a cloud swathed in red white a turquoise robes, the christ child was in her arms, so beautiful and above her head she was watched over by winged angels. She liked to stand here for a moment when she came home, drinking in the peace and knowing that Mary was watching over her.

  After a moment she went through to the kitchen, deciding to have a cup of tea before tackling the bags. She filled the kettle and put a tea bag in her favourite white mug, again with a picture of Our Lady. The kitchen hadn’t had much more than a lick of paint and new appliances in the twenty-six years since her daughter Jessica disappeared. This was the fourth fridge, the newest was only a few months old, but the same picture had been re-attached. A simple finger-painting, by Jessica.

  As she opened the steel fridge door, she stopped to look at it. Small hand prints in yellow, red, and green. Fine white lines and creases criss-crossed each palm where the paint hadn’t reached. The original, painted sometime in 1989 was tucked away in a drawer, wrapped in tissue paper. After several years on display, and much to her horror and dismay, the paint had started to fade, so she’d had it scanned and this was a print out. Even the original scan had been re-printed several times. Marianne ran a finger over it, noting the edges were starting to curl, and retrieved the milk.

  Her grief was ingrained; it was part of her now. The tears still came but she had learned to live with the pain, like a constant companion. Looking at the finger painting, seeing photos of Jessica, walking past her bedroom on her way to the bathroom several times a day were habit.

  The kettle clicked off and she filled her mug, dunking the tea bag before fishing it out with a spoon, and moving over to the bin. She was about to pour in the milk when the doorbell chimed. She looked at the clock and saw it was just after four.

  The bell chimed again just as she reached the door, and when she opened it, Marianne froze. A familiar face stood amongst a group of men and women. It was Detective Constable Nancy Greene, a woman she hadn’t seen in years.

  ‘Hello Marianne,’ smiled Nancy weakly. They embraced. They separated, and Marianne searched Nancy's face, noting deep wrinkles, and grey hair. It was only then that she saw, amongst the group, were two police officers in uniform.

  ‘Nancy? Why are you here?’ started Marianne.

  ‘Can we come in please?’ said Nancy.

  Marianne gulped and a shaking hand went to her throat to feel for a necklace which wasn’t there.

  ‘Not until you tell me what this is?’

  ‘These are police officers. Detective Chief Inspector Foster, Detective Constable John McGorry, PC Ward, and PC Stoke. And this is Coleen Scanlan. She’s the MET police media liason,’ said Nancy.

  ‘Good evening, Mrs Collins,’ said Erika, holding up
her ID. The other officers followed suit.

  ‘Can we come in please?’ asked Nancy.

  ‘Now is not a good time. I’m expecting, someone,’ said Marianne.

  ‘Please can we come in. This is important. I’m here because I was your Family Liaison Officer, back when Jessica disappeared…’

  ‘Mrs Collins, can we please come inside, this is very important,’ said Erika. Marianne nodded, as if realising what was happening. She stood to one side and let them in. They came through to the large living room. It was elegant but cold, with dark wood furniture and dark wine coloured curtains and furniture.

  ‘Would anyone like tea? I’ve just made a cup,’ asked Marianne, forcing herself to sound bright and happy.

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Nancy. The officers stood for a moment in a semi circle.

  ‘Sit down,’ said Marianne. They sat on the large sofa and the two armchairs. Nancy took the chair close to Marianne. When Erika sat she noticed the large painting of the Virgin Mary above the carved fireplace and with a glance around the room counted four crucifixes of varying size on the walls. Marianna pulled out the small foot rest which matched the seat Nancy occupied. She perched on it and started to gabble,

  ‘How long has it been since I last saw you… Laura is working over in Kew… She’s trying to have another baby, it will be her fourth if she does, but she’s getting old. Although these days but…’

  ‘Marianne,’ started Nancy.

  ‘Toby has a new partner, he works in property… They seem happy, they know how I feel about that sort of thing but…’

  ‘Marianne, please…’

  Her bottom lip started to tremble and tears pooled in her eyes, ‘Let me make some tea, would you all like tea’ said Marianne scrabbling in her cardigan sleeve for a tissue, pulling it out and scrubbing at her eyes.

  ‘Marianne sit down we have something to tell you,’ said Erika.

  ‘I’ll do what I fucking well like in my fucking house!’ she shouted rising. She paced up and down looking at the police officers, and she started to hyperventilate.