‘You should answer your phone. The Super has been trying to call you,’ said Sparks.
‘I haven’t finished here. I can discuss this with Marsh tomorrow,’ said Erika.
‘I have clear instructions. I’ve been made SIO and I would like you to leave the scene.’
‘You’d like me to leave?’
‘No. I’m ordering you to leave.’
‘DCI Sparks. I have just been to the crime scene and there are things . . .’ started Erika.
‘I said, I’m now in control of this crime scene and I’m ordering you to step aside!’ shouted Sparks, losing it.
‘I think you’ll find, if you have any knowledge of crime scene procedure, that the Forensic Pathologist has ultimate control over the crime scene, and therefore gives the orders,’ said Isaac, appearing behind Erika with Moss and Peterson. ‘DCI Foster entered the crime scene as SIO and I will finish my briefing and examination of the crime scene with her present as SIO. Now, DCI Sparks, you are in danger of contaminating the crime scene. If you wish to continue to observe, I’ll ask that you follow proper procedure, suit up and shut up.’
DCI Sparks opened his mouth to say something, but Isaac looked down at him and raised an impeccably shaped eyebrow, daring him to contradict.
‘Eight am tomorrow, there will be a briefing at Lewisham Row where we’ll be re-focusing this investigation. Be sure you attend promptly,’ said Sparks to Moss and Peterson. They nodded. Sparks gave Erika a long, hard look and then stomped away, accompanied by one of the uniformed officers.
‘Thank you,’ said Erika to Isaac.
‘I didn’t do it to be thanked. I’m not interested in police politics. All I’m interested in is preserving a scene so you can do your job and find who did this,’ said Isaac.
Erika removed her crime scene overalls, which were bagged up to go to the lab. She found shelter from the pouring rain under the peeling facade of the pavilion, lit a cigarette, and listened to her voicemails. There were four from Marsh, all growing increasingly angry. Simon and Diana Douglas-Brown had apparently been “horrified” when Erika had “hijacked the press appeal for her own agenda”, and Marsh was in agreement. He was ordering her to report to him immediately in the morning. The message finished with him saying, ‘Ignoring my calls will be seen as a further act of insubordination and a direct challenge to my authority.’
When she reached the final message in her mailbox, it began with lots of distortion; she heard a voice swearing and then the sound of coins dropping into a pay phone.
‘Yeah, it’s Ivy . . . Ivy Norris. If you can give me some money, I’ll tell you what you need to know. I need a hundred quid . . .’ There were three fast pips, more swearing and then the line went dead. Erika listened to the message again. It was timed seven hours ago. Erika put in a call to Sergeant Crane, who answered wearily.
‘Hi Crane, it’s DCI Foster, are you still at the nick?’
‘Yes, boss,’ he said wearily.
‘What was the response like to the appeal?’
‘We’ve had twenty-five calls, boss. They’ve died off over the last few hours. We’re just waiting to see if they run the number again on the evening news.’
‘Tell me we’ve got something useful?’ asked Erika hopefully.
‘Fourteen of them are known nutters and time-wasters; they tend to admit to every television crime appeal. One of these guys still maintains that he killed Princess Diana. We still have to go through and eliminate them all, which is taking time. Another ten calls have been from journalists, fishing, basically.’
‘I make that twenty-four.’
‘The last one was from Ivy Norris. She called a couple of hours after the appeal went out. We’ve traced the call to a payphone at The Crown public house. She was fairly incoherent, but left her name, and said she wanted to talk to you personally. Did you check your messages? I tried to call you, but there was no answer?’
‘Yes, and she tried to call me too. We’ve just discovered her body.’
‘Shit,’ said Crane.
‘Yes. Shit indeed. Look, I’ll be in first thing tomorrow, let me know if you get anything more.’
‘Um, boss . . .’
‘What?’
‘I’ve been told to give all new info to DCI Sparks.’
‘Okay, but the Ivy thing, it’s kind of personal too.’
‘Course, boss.’
Erika came off the phone as Moss and Peterson approached. She told them about the message from Ivy.