Erika paused, and took the seat next to Sparks.
‘Okay. If this is a meeting, fine. Tell me all about our colleagues in the South London underworld.’
Sparks removed the hand from under his chin. ‘The Gadd family has been feeding us information for the past eight months. Information that will hopefully lead to the seizure of millions of pounds’ worth of counterfeit cigarettes and alcohol.’
‘In return for what?’ asked Erika.
Marsh interrupted, ‘I don’t have to spell it out, DCI Foster. We’re stretched to the fucking limit with what we can and can’t do. Do you know what a delicate eco-system it is here in South London? In return for this information we’ve been turning a blind eye to . . . well, lockins and things. Then you barrel in there last night with your ID and your attitude.’
‘They said it was a wake, sir.’
‘It was a fucking wake!’
‘Okay, I’m sorry. It seems you do things a little bit differently here than when we were in Manchester.’
‘We don’t do things differently,’ said Sparks, with an annoying calm. ‘Although we do thoroughly check our intelligence before we move in.’
‘What did you just say?’ said Erika.
‘I’m talking about last night.’
‘You’re sure about that?’
‘That’s enough!’ shouted Marsh, slamming his fist on the table.
Erika swallowed down her anger, and her hatred for Sparks. ‘Sir. My visit to The Crown had a purpose. It helped me secure new information about Andrea’s killer.’
Marsh sat down. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘I now have a second witness who saw Andrea on the night she died in The Glue Pot, talking to a tall dark man and a blonde woman. This new witness went so far as to hint that Andrea could have been in a relationship with the man.’
‘Who is this new witness?’
‘Ivy Norris.’
Sparks rolled his eyes and looked at Marsh, ‘Do me a favour – Ivy Norris? Also goes by the names Jean McArdle, Beth Crosby, Paulette O’Brien?’
‘Sir, she—’
‘She’s a known time-waster,’ said Marsh.
‘But sir, I got the feeling she was scared when I pressed her about this man. It was genuine fear. I also believe, especially now we’ve found the phone packaging under Andrea’s bed, that Andrea had a second mobile phone, a phone she didn’t tell anyone about. I think she had friends that she didn’t want her fiancé, Giles Osborne, to know about . . .’
‘The records from Andrea’s old phone, the one she lost last year, came in last night,’ said Sparks.
‘No, I think Andrea had another phone. One she was still using. She bought a top-up voucher four months ago, we found it under her bed with the box,’ explained Erika.
‘It means nothing. It could’ve been for a friend,’ said Sparks. ‘Anyway, back to the records for the old phone that actually exist. I took the opportunity to go through them last night, and some interesting information has come to light.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Erika.
‘Several names come up in her call log, which I’ve cross-checked with Andrea’s Facebook messenger account. One of them is a bloke called Marco Frost . . . Ring any bells?’
Marsh looked at Erika.
‘Yes. He’s a barista who Andrea was, I dunno, dating a while back. An Italian guy, works at a coffee place in Soho?’
Sparks nodded and went on, ‘He made hundreds of calls to Andrea’s old phone. The calls were over a period of ten months, between May 2013 and March 2014.’
‘Why wasn’t I told that the phone records had come through?’ demanded Erika.
‘It was late last night. I thought you might have wanted to get your beauty sleep,’ said Sparks.
‘Sparks, get on with it,’ said Marsh.
‘Okay. So I went back through the interview I did with the Douglas-Browns, when Andrea had first gone missing. And they mentioned this Marco Frost. Andrea did date him briefly for a month at the beginning of 2013. Then she ditched him, and the phone calls started. He turned up at the house several times. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sir Simon actually had a police officer visit Marco Frost and speak to him about his unhealthy interest in Andrea.’
‘Why wasn’t this mentioned to me before?’ asked Erika.
‘My notes were available in the file.’
‘I never got them.’
‘Well, they were available.’
‘All right, all right, all right. Let’s act like adults,’ said Marsh, impatiently. ‘Go on, DCI Sparks.’
‘Okay. So I went back to Andrea’s new phone, where, as we know, there’s not much to go on. She checked her emails on that phone too, and there was a load of e-invites to parties and events—’
‘Yes, the team has been through them, there are hundreds. She had memberships with lots of private clubs,’ said Erika.
Sparks continued, ‘There was an e-invite for an event at the Rivoli Ballroom on Thursday 8th January, the night she vanished. It was a fancy burlesque show organised by one of the clubs where she was a member.’
‘Yes, and on that same night Andrea had invites to several other parties in London. As I say, she was on loads of mailing lists . . . And she had already arranged to meet her brother and sister at the cinema.’
‘But the whole family have said she was a flake; she changed her mind with the wind. It wouldn’t be out of character for her to just decide to do something else,’ said Sparks.
Erika reluctantly had to agree with this.
Sparks went on, ‘The Rivoli Ballroom is actually bang opposite Crofton Park train station, which on the map looks fairly close to Forest Hill station – to be precise, it’s just under two miles away. To get to Forest Hill or Crofton Park you need to take a train from London Bridge, but the two train stations are on completely different lines. What if Andrea got on the wrong train? She rarely used public transport. That could be why she was all dolled-up in Forest Hill.’
There was a silence from Erika and Marsh.
‘And I saved the best bit until last,’ said Sparks. ‘Last night, I got onto the organiser of this burlesque party at the Rivoli Ballroom, and he sent me though their mailing list. Marco Frost was also on that list and was sent the same e-invitation. This gives us an opportunity…’
There was a silence. Erika could see Marsh rolling it over in his brain.
‘This is very promising,’ he said, getting up and starting to pace. ‘My next question is, where is this Marco Frost?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve been up all night putting this together,’ said Sparks.
‘Look, Sparks, we’ve had our differences, and I’d like nothing more than this to be a strong lead. But it’s hardly a motive. How many people were on that mailing list of invites?’ said Erika.
‘Three thousand.’
‘Three thousand. And what makes you think Andrea went anywhere near this Rivoli Ballroom? Her body was found within half a mile of Forest Hill train station, where she got off the train.’
Marsh continued to pace up and down, thinking.
Erika continued. ‘I now have two witnesses who saw Andrea in The Glue Pot the night she vanished.’
‘One of whom has vanished into thin air, and the other a known drug-addicted, alcoholic prostitute,’ said Marsh.
‘But sir, I think Ivy Norris is—’
‘Ivy Norris is scum,’ said Sparks. ‘One of her specialities is to shit on the bonnets of the squad cars in the car park.’
‘Sir, at least acknowledge that we have two lines of enquiry,’ said Erika. ‘If you think mine is unreliable, then you must admit that Sparks’s is purely circumstantial! I think that we could use this press appeal this afternoon for information about Andrea being seen with the man and the woman in The Glue Pot.’
Marsh shook his head. ‘DCI Foster, we’re dealing with people here who the media are itching to hang out to dry. Lord Douglas-Brown, his wife and family, and of course Andrea, who isn’t lucky enough to still be here to defend her character from these accusations.’
‘Sir, it’s not an accusation!’