'Davy, you've got this all wrong, I know I've been a bitch lately, but I was on my way back here, that's what I was doing on Feather Lane, I realised I'd made a mistake, and wanted to make things right between us.'
'LIAR!'
Davy Rowntree winced at the inner volume. 'You expect me to believe that, do you?'
'But it's the truth!' she wailed.
'Lying shit!' he spat. 'You two have been planning to take all this away from me, planning to take Sam with you and fuck off, while I was left with nothing.'
Behind the tape, Ashley Dean whimpered as he saw the madness in Rowntree's glazed eyes.
Beth shuffled forwards on her knees, her hands held out in front of her. 'I swear on my life that there's been nothing going on between us, you know Ashley and Carmen are happy and…'
'Carmen's dead,' he interrupted.
Beth's mouth gaped wide in shock and disbelief.
Behind the tape, Dean screamed.
'Look at them both, acting all shocked, pathetic bitches the pair of them,' the voice in his head dropped to little more than a hiss of hatred.
'Dead?' Beth whispered.
'That's how I got lover boy here, they were in the car and I blew her away with the old man's shotgun.'
Beth sat back with a thump, her arms dropping to her side. 'My God, what have you done?'
'Don't look at me like that, all this is your fault, if you'd kept your fucking legs closed then none of them would have died.'
His voice seemed to echo inside the van, the words booming around her, pulverising her mind.
'What do you mean, ''none of them would have died''?' the terror closed tight around her heart, dreading the reply yet already part of her suspected the answer her husband would provide.
It started to snow again, fat flakes landing in his unruly dark hair. 'Every time I tried to talk to you, you ignored me.'
'Davy, tell me what you've done?'
'I ended up sleeping in the spare room and all that time you were seeing him!' he jabbed a finger at Ashley who continued to press back against the bulkhead.
'But I didn't, I…'
'I thought it was something I'd done, I used to lay there at night tormenting myself trying to see where I'd gone wrong. You started to stay out later, telling me you were at Kath's, but…'
'I was at my sister's, there's nothing going on between me and him. I mean, what do you think I would have done with Sam? Do you honestly think my sister would have watched him if she thought I was having an affair?'
'Listen to her, every time she opens her mouth a fucking lie drops out.'
Davy blinked several times as the snow gathered on his head and shoulders. 'You would have fooled her, just like you fooled me. Besides, nine times out of ten you left Sam with me while you swanned off with him!'
'Please, Davy, you have to believe me, I would never do anything like that.'
'Believe you!? Believe a lying slut like you?' he roared. 'You really do think I'm an idiot, don't you?'
'No, of course not, I…'
'I was the one who put the head in the Christmas tree, I placed that old bastard's head at the church and I put the last one in his fucking freezer!'
Beth opened her mouth, unsure what she was going to say as the horrifying revelations hit her. In the end she couldn't form the words, but she screamed; she screamed until she thought her lungs would burst.
Davy Rowntree watched her with narrowed, hate-filled eyes. 'Crocodile tears,' he said before lunging forwards, the tape stretched between his hands as he slapped it over her mouth and then spun her around, wrapping the bailer twine around her wrists and pushing her forwards.
'I've been in the woods digging a shallow grave for you, Beth, but before you die I'm going to cut your friend here into chunks and feed him to the dog, what Max doesn't eat the rats and foxes will finish off.'
Beth screamed again as Davy slammed the door.
97
'Odette open up!' Bannister hollered as he hammered on the door with his fist.
Silence.
Taking a step back, he lashed out, the heel of his boot slammed into the lock, but the door held.
Swiping the sweat from his brow, he lunged forwards again, wood splintered, the door shook.
'Come on, you bastard thing,' he snarled before trying again.
The door burst inwards, and Bannister charged forwards, suddenly stopping as he saw Spenner sprawled on the floor, his eyes closed, hands and feet tied, his face a ragged mess, blood coated the floor around his head, one hand cut, swollen and seeping blood.
Bannister felt the fury roar up through his body, taking hold and burning away any sense of self-control.
'Stay exactly where you are, or I'll cut her throat,' Lanark snarled.
Odette stood in the centre of the room, her hands behind her back, Lanark behind her, the black blade held at her pale throat.
When he saw the bruises and cuts on her face, the fury reached a new level. His body swayed back and forth, desperate to lunge forwards and make Lanark pay, but knowing that he would make good on his promise and Odette would die, the blood spraying from her opened throat.
'You piece of shit, I'll…'
'Do nothing, because if you try then all three of you will die.'
'Take this animal down!' Odette hissed.
Lanark yanked back on her long hair, but Odette refused to vent the pain as her throat was further exposed to the blade.
'Turn around right now or she dies.'
Bannister hesitated for a second before turning his back on Lanark, his hands still clamped into fists, his teeth grinding together with impotent rage.
'Now, take out your phone, drop it on the floor and stamp on it.' Lanark demanded.
'Don't do it…'
Bannister winced as Odette's voice was cut off with a gasp of pain.
Lifting out the phone, he dropped it the floor, raised his right foot and slammed it down, the screen shattered, bits of plastic pinged off, skittering across the polished wood floor.
'Wise man,' Lanark said.
'Fucker!' Bannister spat as he waited, his body tense, expecting the inevitable knife plunging through muscle, skewering him like a moth on a corkboard.
When the pain exploded in the back of his skull, he pitched forwards, his eyes fluttered closed as he slammed onto the floor.
'Bastard,' Odette snarled as she was pushed forwards, Lanark's hand clamped on the back of her neck.
'Time to go, if I know Plymouth, with you as bait he'll come running.'
Odette felt her heart break as she managed to glance back into the room before she was forced through the door.
She saw Spenner, his face smashed, his hand cut, Bannister, the back of his head matted with blood that trickled down the side of his face. Both of them sprawled on the floor. Both had walked into her guilt-ridden nightmare and now they had paid the price for her stupidity.
She wondered if she would ever see either of them again, then she pictured Lasser, if she did survive she knew she would never be able to look any of them in the eye again.
Any thought of fighting back vanished as the shame weighed down on her, the guilt of what she had done crushing her spirit as Lanark pushed her to the lift.
She thought of how Lasser would feel when he found out what had happened, she knew the anger would tear through him and he would do anything to find her. Part of her knew he would never stop and if anyone got in his way he would crush them without a second's hesitation.
She was still locked in the nightmare when Craig led her through the main doors and out into the deserted world of white. Then an image of Plymouth flashed into her mind, his shock of white hair, his narrow face, the blue eyes that could sparkle with humour one second but could vanish in an instant, and the capacity for causing agony beyond comprehension would take its place.
Craig thrust her into the unfamiliar vehicle and she simply sat there like a puppet whose strings
had been slashed while he climbed behind the wheel. She turned to face him just as he drove his fist into her face, her head cracked back against the side window and she slumped forwards.
'Stupid bitch,' he said as he started the Leon's engine, flicking the wipers on to shift the covering of snow.
Seconds later, he pulled out of the exit.
Destination, Cumbria.
98
With the vanishing of the sun the temperature plummeted, turning the lane into a treacherous blanket of frozen white. As the road began to climb, the wheels started to spin, Lasser rode the clutch, the wheels slewing in and out of the troughs that ran off into the darkness.
Either side of the road, the towering trees seemed to sag under the weight of snow, ice glittered on the surface of the lane making it difficult to distinguish where the tarmac ended and the kerbs took over.
The rear of the car fishtailed, but Lasser kept his foot to the floor, knowing that to slow down would mean the vehicle would come to a halt, and he would be trudging through the snow to his destination.
Kath glanced at the man behind the wheel, his face set with grim determination, his dark eyes narrowed as his lips moved in what she assumed was a silent prayer.
'Come on, you bastard,' Lasser mumbled.
Kath's eyes widened slightly as he twisted the wheel left and right in an effort to keep the forward momentum going.
The car crawled up the hill, the smell of something overheating drifted in through the vents, yet Lasser didn't ease back. When the road started to level out, he heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow.
'So, why did your sister leave her husband in the first place?' he asked as the engine whine softened in volume.
Kath eased back against the headrest, her eyes half-closed. 'She lives in the middle of the woods, I mean, in normal weather it's only fifteen minutes from town, but I think it was sending her a bit stir-crazy not having neighbours or friends who could pop in for a chat.'
'Some people would love that,' Lasser replied as he thought about the times he had spent on the boat with Jackie, loving the solitude and peace.
'That's what I tried to tell her, but she stormed out thinking I was having a go at her.'
'She couldn't give you a solid reason why she walked?'
Kath shook her head, her hands twisting in her lap. 'I asked her if Davy had been treating her badly and…'
'I take it you don't get to see much of her husband then?'
'To be honest no, he's a busy guy, but he never complains if Beth wants to go anywhere. They have a six-year-old son and Davy spends loads of time with him if Beth wants to go to the gym or if she comes to see me.'
'Where's the son now?' Lasser asked as the car continued to rumble along.
'He's back at my place with my husband and kids.'
'I take it Rowntree owns a van?'
'I've never seen him driving anything else.'
'White Transit?'
'Well, it's definitely white but I'm not sure of the make or model.'
The woodland ended and Lasser glanced at the frozen landscape, mile upon mile of white leading to the bulk of the Pennines standing stark against the black sky.
'Can you tell me the last time you saw your brother-in-law?'
Kath thought for a moment before answering. 'Four months ago, it was my husband's birthday and we all went out for a meal.'
'Sounds nice.'
Kath sighed. 'Like I said, Davy's a nice guy, but my parents can be a little prickly with him.'
'How come?' he asked as another thicket of trees appeared left and right, the view of the distant Pennines vanishing.
'They think Beth married beneath her.'
Lasser glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.
'I know it sounds ridiculous in this day and age, but my parents are stuck in the past. They see Davy working on machinery with his hands full of oil and grime and they don't like it.'
'What about your husband, what does he do?'
'John works in sales, wears a smart suit, drives a nice car, so they respect that.'
'They're snobs then?'
Despite the grim situation, Kath managed a smile. 'I suppose they are. You'll need to take the opening on the right, but I don't know how far you'll get in the car.'
Lasser nodded, eyes still locked on the tracks, he eased off the gas slightly and followed them to the right as they turned onto a track piled thick with snow.
'These tracks have led all the way back from the bus shelter, haven't they?' Kath asked.
'Yeah,' Lasser said as he eased down on the gas again.
'So that means Davy could have picked her up,' Kath suggested, her voice heavy with confusion and uncertainty.
Lasser pictured the white van. Dorothy had been adamant that she had seen a transit driving away from the house, ten minutes later, she had found her husband's headless remains sprawled at the back of the property, his blood still spewing into the white.
He thought back to the lane where Shaw had been slaughtered, the wide twin tracks in the snow leading away from the crime scene. Lastly, he saw the Jaguar – the side window smashed – Carmen Dean strapped into the car, the side of her face ragged and torn. Now, Beth Rowntree had vanished from the side of the road. Beth worked for the Deans, which meant her estranged husband would have been aware of their existence.
He thought back to the conversation between himself and Bannister when they had pondering what was driving the killer, ''jealously'' or ''hatred''.
'Are you, OK?' Kath asked.
Lasser blinked as the alarm bells rang in his head, meanwhile the car continued to slither and slide over the frozen snow.
99
Bannister groaned, his eyes flickered open, but when he tried to move, his head clanged, his vision swimming in and out of focus. For a few moments his mind remained stubbornly blank, then fragments of memory fired in his brain. He remembered driving away from a small bungalow waving to a woman who had been holding a young child in her arms. The trouble was he had no recollection who they were or why they should have been waving him goodbye.
Planting his hands on the floor, he tried to push himself upright, but the pain in the back of his skull made him groan again and he slumped back down to the floor. Lifting a trembling hand to the back of his head he felt a wetness there. He pulled his hand away and looked at it. Blood! His head pounded, beating away all coherent thought.
Closing his eyes, he felt the darkness creeping in and then he gasped as reality flooded into his brain, washing away the confusion. Gritting his teeth, he turned his head, seeing Spenner tied on the floor, his face battered and coated with blood.
This time, when he tried to gain his feet he ignored the pain in his head and kept his eyes open, fighting the feeling of nausea. Swaying, he took three stuttering steps before reaching down, two of his fingers sliding along the side of Spenner's neck. When he felt the pulse, he heaved a sigh of relief before walking unsteadily towards the kitchen. Yanking open a couple of drawers, he rummaged amongst the cutlery, the clatter of metal making him wince in pain. His shaking hand closed on the handle of the steak knife and he backtracked and collapsed to his knees by Spenner's side. Taking his time, he cut through the ties at his wrists and ankles, before dropping the knife to the floor.
Then he leaned down even further, the waft of dried blood making him heave, the bile rising in his throat. 'Spenner, you're going to be OK,' he mumbled as his vision swam once more.
Getting no reply, he heaved himself upright and staggered to the door and out of the apartment, with one hand on the wall for support he headed to the first door on the left and slapped a hand against the woodwork.
He waited, his head resting against the door, his body starting to shake; he could feel the blood trickling down the collar of his shirt onto his fevered skin.
The seconds passed, his eyes closed again and then he snapped upright, the anger flashing him back to reality.
'Come on, you prick, get yo
ur act together,' he snarled as he hit the door again, this time making a fist.
Then he turned and leaned back against the timber, eyes closed again as the corridor seemed to tilt and twist.
When the door opposite opened, he cracked open his eyes to see a middle-aged woman staring at him, her face sour, her arms folded across her chest. 'I hope to God you didn't drive here in that state,' she said in a voice heavy with disapproval.
Bannister blinked at her, drool hung from his bottom lip. 'Call an ambulance,' he mumbled.
'I don't think so, while they are here seeing to you then someone else who needs real help could be out there dying.'
Bannister cleared his throat, his legs trembling. 'Please, you…'
'It's disgraceful, a man of your age should know better,' she replied, her face registering disgust.
Bannister tried to reply but suddenly his brain misfired, his eyes rolled back, and he slid down the door leaving a smear of red on the white paintwork as he fell to the ground.
Half a second later, the woman was screaming.
100
Rowntree stepped back, his eyes fixed on the rectangle of dark earth, his brow coated with sweat, the ground under the snow had been relatively soft despite the cold and it hadn't taken him long to dig the makeshift, shallow grave.
Dropping the spade on the ground, he lit a cigarette, the anger – now of volcanic proportions – billowed in a cloud of vapour as he breathed out.
He imagined his wife and lover boy, shivering in fear in the back of the van as they contemplated their non-existent futures.
Perhaps he should have left them untied with the torch, he imagined them clinging together, swearing their love for one another, yet he knew that their commitment would be short-lived and eventually the blame would surface in their eyes.
The fear of what was going to happen to them would eat away at their senses, until eventually they would start to snap at one another, the fury rising as they realised they were going to die. There would be no happy ever afters, no more lying in bed together making their plans after rutting the night away.
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