Read Bitter Fruits: DI Erica Martin Book 1 (Erica Martin Thriller) for Free Online Page B

their eyes flicked to her legs. Wondered again how far her looks would take her before they realized she would rather break their balls than use what she looked like to get decent work out them. She took a breath and a step forwards, an inch past Butterworth.
    ‘Simon Rush gave an oral statement this morning, which we’ve now got in writing, where he has confessed to the murder of Emily Brabents.’ She wouldn’t do the niceties. They’d seen her around the last couple of weeks. She could play nice in the pub. ‘The medical examiner has seen him and said he’s good to go. He’s now in custody and under arrest. However,’ she paused with a mild expression of frustration. ‘Rush’s dad is some hotshot criminal silk. He’s on hisway up here from London to represent his son, so Rush stays where he is until we can interview him with his dad. Given his odd behaviour in the college, it’s probably worthwhile anyway.
    ‘We should get the post-mortem results later today, but until then I’m treating this as a homicide. And even though we’ve got a confession; that might not be all there is to this sorry tale.’
    Martin watched herself from above as she doled out tasks to the team, interviews to be conducted, statements to be taken, the riverbank to be scoured. She needed the SOCO analysis of the crime scene, particularly the ripped-off note on the door; Emily’s MacBook would be sent off to forensics. Her social media needed analysing: who was she friends with? What was her relationship with Rush? And all the time Martin spoke and instructed and ordered, a whisper drummed in her head.
Who killed Emily? Who killed Emily Brabents?
She pointed at people, allocated tasks to these people for whom she was an outsider, who didn’t know her, didn’t trust her.
    ‘Forensics need to look at Rush’s computer, and I’ll come with the search team to Rush’s room. I want to see it before I interview him,’ she said, aware of Butterworth smiling behind her like the politician she knew he had to be.
    ‘What about the victim’s family, boss? Should we focus on them?’ Jones asked.
    ‘It’s a possibility. We certainly need to know where they were at the time of the murder. They don’t live far: they’ve got a place in a village about an hour’s drive away.’ Martin looked down at her notes. ‘So a quick trip up here last night isn’t out of the question, and they need to be checked out. Then there’s the boy in the photos in Emily’s room.’ She pointed at the whiteboard, where pictures of the unknown boy were tacked next to one of Simon Rush. ‘Any news on that?’
    ‘Yes. Student Admin has a photo of him on their system. Nick Oliver,’ Jones answered. ‘Second-year law student. Lives in a house down by the Viaduct.’
    Martin knew where that was at least. An enclave of miner’s cottages now inhabited by students who moved out of the college environs in their second and third years, paying cheap rent for walls tacky with Sellotape and no central heating. ‘Good. So let’s get busy. The more evidence we have about Emily and her mates, the more we’ve got to establish whether what Rush says is true.’ Martin exhaled loudly. ‘A young girl is dead. We need a good and clean result. The city won’t like this, the university even less so.’
    ‘And I think it goes without saying,’ Butterworth interjected, ‘that we all need to work fully as a team with DI Martin and help her settle in to how we do things in Durham.’
    You’re right
, Martin thought,
it did go without saying
.But now that you’ve made a big deal of the fact I’m new and know nothing about how things are done here, let’s get on with it. She flashed a quick smile at her superior and at her team before walking briskly out of the room.



7
     
    I became acquainted with Annabel soon after I met Emily. She reminded me of a bun. All curves and chest, wrapped in cashmere, soft and inviting but with a creamy ooziness about her that I found