Kevin looked out at the driving rain and shivered before turning and vanishing back into the house.
'You said the neighbour was pushy,' Lasser asked again to fill the awkward silence.
Ruby sighed. 'I'm sorry, that was uncomfortable.'
Lasser managed to salvage a smile. 'He seems like a decent bloke, have you been together long?'
'Six months and yeah, he is a nice guy.'
'Good. I'm glad.'
She cleared her throat, her face still tinged red. 'Why do you want to know about Clark?'
Lasser didn't see the point in saying no comment, after all the papers would soon be printing the story and no doubt Clark's mug shot would be on the six o'clock news.
'We found a body at Haigh Hall yesterday and…'
'Oh my God, it's Clark, isn't it?'
'Afraid so.'
'It's all over Facebook and I saw it on the news earlier.'
'You were telling me he was pushy?' Lasser asked for the third time.
Suddenly, Ruby looked embarrassed. 'Let's just say he had a high opinion of himself.'
'Fancied himself as a lady's man then?'
Ruby grimaced slightly before nodding. 'Truth is he made me feel nervous, we only spoke on a couple of occasions, yet he managed to tell me he was recently divorced and then he looked me up and down – blatantly, you know? As if he didn't care if it bothered me or not.'
'He sounded like a creep.'
'Believe me he was, the second time he asked me out, although I'd already told him I was seeing someone.'
'And that didn't put him off?'
'He was an arrogant man and I tried to avoid him at all costs.'
'What about girlfriends?'
The wind blew, swirling the rain around and under Lasser's hood.
'I never saw anyone at the house, though to be honest he wasn't home much, so maybe he had a girlfriend but went to her house rather than bringing her here.'
Lasser nodded in understanding. 'Did he mention anything about his ex-wife?'
'I didn't give him the chance, like I said he made me feel uneasy.'
Lasser slipped his hands into his pockets. 'What about the other neighbour?'
'Mrs Wilson is in a wheelchair, she was involved in a car crash years ago, her husband was killed, she's pretty much housebound.'
The hood on Lasser's jacket was torn from his head but he made no effort to pull it back into place. 'Right, well, we're going to have to take a look inside, so I'll get it sorted, thanks for your help, Ruby.'
She smiled at him and then she quickly leaned out into the rain and kissed his cheek. 'Thanks, Lasser.'
'What for?' he asked in confusion.
'For being one of the good guys.'
He smiled and raised a hand as he turned and walked back to the car, by the time he had climbed in Ruby had vanished back into the house.
With a heavy heart he pulled out his phone and rang Bannister to give him an update.
12
Lasser had smoked two cigarettes and was in the process of nodding off when the tap on the window disturbed him.
He raised a hand before sliding the window down and blinking out into the rain.
'Morning, boss,' Shaun Rourke said as a man carrying a tool bag walked down the drive of Clark's house.
'Who's that?' Lasser asked with a yawn.
'Local locksmith, DCI Bannister organised it.'
'What happened to kicking the door down or smashing a window?' Lasser asked, pushing the door open.
Shaun stepped out of the way, 'I never asked, just followed orders.'
'Very wise,' Lasser replied, climbing out from the car and rolling his head in an effort to shift the ache in his neck.
The rain had eased a little and the sun was making a lame attempt to break through the clouds.
He watched as the door to Ruby's house opened and Kevin came out dressed in a dark suit, he smiled at Lasser like the cat that had got the cream before getting into a blue Volvo parked at the front of the house.
Lighting up, he watched the locksmith working on the front door, by the time he had finished the cigarette the door was open.
'So much for deadlocks,' Lasser said, dropping the stump into the gutter. 'Come on, let's take a look inside.'
'I'll send you the bill,' the locksmith said as he gathered up his bag and strode away towards the van.
'I bet when the bill drops onto Bannister's desk he'll have a fit and it will be back to kicking doors in,' Lasser said, stepping into the hallway.
Two letters lay on the laminate floor and he picked them up, gas and electric bills, he studied them for a moment before placing them on a small table in the hallway.
As they walked, their shoes left wet stains on the otherwise gleaming floor. Lasser hesitated in the doorway to the living room, gazing around, taking it in before moving inside. The room was neat and tidy, containing a long, four-seat sofa, a top-of-the-range television and a coffee table. When he saw the trophies on the mantelpiece he walked over to have a look. There were three altogether, each had a plastic gold-coloured figure on top flexing their biceps.
Picking one up he read the inscription on the small bronze plaque glued to the cheap-looking plinth.
Edward Clark
Most Improved Bicep Definition
2015
Thorpe's Gym.
'Christ, that's embarrassing,' Shaun said as he moved to Lasser's side and read the inscription.
Placing it back on the mantelpiece, Lasser gave the other two a quick once-over. 'Personal best power lift and most squats in two minutes,' he said with a shake of his head. 'How old was Clark, about ten?'
Shaun grinned as they moved out of the room.
'You check the kitchen, I'll have a nosey in the bedrooms,' Lasser said, nipping through the bungalow.
Reaching the bedroom at the front of the house, Lasser pushed the door open, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the black silk duvet on the king-sized bed, a quick glance around the room showed nothing much of interest and he moved to the second door. This one was smaller and kitted out with gym equipment, he could almost smell the testosterone as he looked at the rowing machine and stacks of weights on the floor. The walls were covered with images of bodybuilders, oiled to the max and trying to smile as they curled weights in their hands, their muscles close to exploding, the veins standing rigid on their fake-tanned bodies.
Lasser could see mottos blue-tacked to the wall amongst the images.
''Feel the burn'' and the obligatory ''No pain, no gain'' held pride of place.
Lasser thought back to Clark sprawled on the lane, his head demolished, his muscular arms outstretched.
'Your pain and gain days are well and truly over,' he mumbled as he looked at an image of the man himself on the wall, smiling that bulging, jaw-muscled smile, his eyes hidden behind mirrored shades. It had been taken on a sunny beach, a deep blue sea in the background.
'Nothing in the kitchen, boss, apart from bulk-up drinks and a fridge full of chicken and fruit,' Shaun said as he appeared in the doorway.
Taking a final look around the home gym they backtracked to the first bedroom. Behind the door was a desk, the all-in-one computer on top with a printer at the side.
Shaun moved over to the mirrored wardrobe and slid the door open as Lasser pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen, seconds later it was answered.
'Morning, Rog, got a job for you.'
'''A job''?'
Lasser looked out through the window, the rain once more bouncing down. 'Stick Winter Grove into your satnav, it's in Appley Bridge, I've got a computer here, big fancy-looking thing and I need you to get it up and running for me.'
'But I'm off today.'
Lasser raised an eyebrow. '''Off''?'
'Yeah, I was just going to chill and…'
'Well, you can chill over here, there's a nice, comfy, boy-racer chair for you to sit in and I'll even put the kettle on.'
'You're not going to let this go, are you?' Rog sai
d.
'Come on, Rog, it's me you're talking to not Bannister. If you want to lounge at home, that's fine. When the big boss arrives I'll simply give him your number and you can explain why you can't make it.'
'I'm on my way,' Rog replied with a heavy sigh.
'Good man.'
Shaun Rourke glanced over his shoulder and smiled.
Lasser grinned. 'Have you noticed that any mention of Bannister and people shit themselves?'
'Yeah, he has the same effect on me,' Shaun admitted lifting a plastic box down from the shelf.
Lasser walked over as he snapped the lid off to reveal more pornographic magazines, similar to the ones in the boot of the car.
Reaching down, Shaun picked one up and flicked through the pages, Lasser caught a glimpse of a man with a belt around a woman's neck, her hands clawing at the strap as the man grinned down at her, muscles bulging, his body coated with perspiration.
'Do you get the feeling that Clark was trying to compensate for something?' Lasser asked as Shaun dropped the magazine back into the box.
'Yeah, well sted heads can often struggle in that department.'
'What department?'
Shaun glanced at him unsure if Lasser was being sarcastic, when he saw the frown on his face he cleared his throat.
'They struggle to perform sexually.'
Lasser ran a hand across his damp hair. 'You sure?'
'Positive. I had a mate once who was well into keeping fit, we went to the same gym for a while, you know just using the treadmill and a few weights. Then he started to get into the body-building side of things. He joined a new gym and I didn't see him for about twelve months and when I did I hardly recognised the guy.'
'Bulked up, had he?'
'He looked as if someone had put an air compressor up his arse and turned it on full blast, his arms were bigger than the top of my legs. He was in town with his wife and she looked anything but happy.'
'So, she wasn't keen on her husband turning into Dolph Lundgren.'
'Who?' Rourke asked in confusion.
'Never mind,' Lasser said, feeling his age and more.
'Anyway, he went off to buy his protein drinks and she told me it was like living with a nightmare. Tom had no interest in her, all he was bothered about was getting bigger, she said their sex life didn't exist and that his moods would change so fast that she couldn't keep up.'
'Sounds bad,' Lasser admitted.
'Six months later I was attending his funeral, he'd been working out when, bang, down he went, massive heart attack.'
'Jesus, how old was the guy?'
'Twenty-seven. I still keep in touch with his wife, you know make sure she's OK.'
'And is she?'
'She's fine now and going out with a bricklayer.'
Lasser fiddled with the cigarettes in his pocket and then looked towards the window. 'I'm going to take a look out back,' he said as he pulled out the cigarettes.
Shaun smiled as Lasser clamped one between his teeth. 'No problem, boss,' he said as Lasser left the room.
13
Odette sat in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the DCI who was queueing inside McDonald's.
She had arrived at the station just as Bannister was heading to his car.
'What have you got lined up today?' he'd asked.
'Catching up on paperwork, I got most of it done before I went away but there's still one or two things that need sorting.'
'Yes, well it will have to wait for now, I'm heading up to the ozzie to see Shannon, so you might as well tag along.'
They had got caught in the early-morning traffic, Bannister's frustration mounting until he had pulled onto the fast-food car park. 'I refuse to sit in stationary traffic like some cardboard cut-out,' he'd grumbled before heading out into the wind and rain.
When her phone bleeped, Odette fished it from her pocket, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear as she opened the text.
'Just checking that we are still on for this weekend. Can't wait to see you again.'
Odette closed her eyes, chewing at her bottom lip, the phone in her lap.
She had met Craig on her second day in the Lakes, he was an outdoor bound's instructor and they had hit it off immediately. That night a group of them had headed into Ambleside for a drink at the local pub and Craig had sat by her side, the conversation had been easy, and Odette had told him about the job she did and the place where she lived.
When he had asked if she were single, she had paused for a moment, an image of Lasser planted firmly in the forefront of her mind.
Craig had waited patiently for a response and then Odette had nodded slowly.
'Yes, I'm single.'
The rest of the week had been spent walking out over the wonderful countryside. Craig had brought all the equipment including a tent. They had camped high on a hillside overlooking Windermere, the night sky had been a diamond-bright mantle of stars, the air crisp and fresh. Craig had lit a fire and they had sat talking about their lives, the flames lighting up their faces. Craig was thirty-five and he'd been working in the Lakes for the past five years after a stint in the army. He'd never been married but had been involved with two long-term girlfriends, one still lived in the area the other had moved away and married a guy who worked in telesales.
That night they had slept in individual sleeping bags, when Craig had moved to kiss her, Odette had lifted a hand to stop him.
'I'm sorry,' he'd said, his face blushing with embarrassment. 'I'm not normally like this but I really like you and I'd love to see you again.'
Odette had looked at him and then smiled. 'And I'd like that to.'
'OK, what about next weekend, I could come down to you and…?'
'It's OK, Wigan's not the prettiest of places, not when you have all this an hour away.'
She had agreed to travel up there the following weekend and now he was checking that it was still a date.
Odette's finger hovered over the screen, the holiday had been eventful in more ways than one. She thought back to the day she had driven into Windermere to have a look around the shops. After a couple of hours, she had made her way back to the car armed with a couple of bottles of wine and two bars of mint cake. The traffic out of town had been the stop-start variety, the narrow pavements crammed with holidaymakers dressed in waterproof jackets and bush hats ready for the inevitable rain.
When the man had crossed in front of her car, Odette had snapped upright in the seat, her eyes springing wide. He was tall and lean, dressed in black combat pants with battered walking boots on his feet and a dark-grey fleece top. When he turned to check the other side of the road was clear Odette had gasped, he had stopped in the centre of the road waiting for a break in the traffic… and turned his winter-blue eyes towards her.
There had been no surprise in Plymouth's eyes, it was almost as if he expected to find her in Windermere.
The traffic in front started to move and the driver behind blasted their horn, she watched open-mouthed as Plymouth slipped across the road to the other side and vanished down a narrow alleyway.
Snatching the wheel to the left, she had mounted the kerb – drawing dark looks from a number of pedestrians. Clicking on the hazards, she had checked the mirror before jumping out of the car and dashing across the road. The alleyway threaded between a hiker's shop and a wine merchant, the cobbles slick with rain as she ran down the passage. Reaching the end, she glanced left and right, the small space was crammed with people taking a shortcut back to the main road.
Spotting the shock of white hair amongst the throng she cut left, slipping her way through the holidaymakers.
She saw Plymouth glance over his shoulder, his face unconcerned when he spotted Odette following, her face set with determination.
He paused, watching her battle through the throng, her face suddenly settled into a puzzled frown as she realised he wasn't trying to escape.
When she was ten feet away she saw the smile spring onto his lips and felt her own reso
lve falter.
She stopped, and Plymouth tilted his head before moving towards her. 'DI Noble, what a lovely surprise.'
She looked up into his piercing eyes and saw humour flickering in the depths. 'I could arrest you right here, right now.'
'For what?' he asked.
She felt her mouth start to fall open and then closed it with a snap. 'Well, how about multiple murder for a start?'
He moved closer, she was aware of people passing left and right, but his eyes held her. 'Go ahead, make a scene… see what happens,' he said easily.
Then he reached out and took hold of her elbow before leading her down a short passageway that led to the rear of a tiny slate church, a solitary bench was set under a weeping willow in the equally small garden.
Reaching the bench, Plymouth released her arm and sat down.
'How have you been?' he asked pleasantly.
'How have I been!?' Odette burst out in disbelief.
Plymouth smiled and nodded. 'It's a simple enough question.'
Odette could feel her hackles rising again, every time she had come into contact with Plymouth people had died. She thought back to the time when the white-haired assassin had pointed the gun at her face, she had chased him across a garden and he had vaulted up the fence. She had reached out her hand determined to bring him down to earth and then the gun had appeared from nowhere. He could have killed her that day, in fact he had pulled the trigger, the roar of the gun making her heart stop in fright, the bullet burying itself into the soft ground by her feet.
When she had looked up Plymouth had vanished.
Now, he looked at her as if he could somehow read her thoughts.
'How's Lasser?' he asked.
Odette felt her face tinge with colour and the smile widened on his face.
'You two still work together I assume?'
'Lasser's fine,' she replied eventually, sitting down by his side.
If someone had told her she would be sitting on a bench in the Lake District with the most lethal man she had ever met, then she would have baulked at the notion.
'I take it he's not up here with you?'
Odette had turned and fixed him with a glare of her own. 'Do you live here?'
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