Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  'My names Jenny by the way and I'll be looking after you tonight, now is a table near the window OK?' she asked as she glanced towards the two men, the smile slipping slightly.

  'It's fine,' Tasha replied as she sat down.

  'Could I get you something to drink?'

  'I told you she was a bimbo,' one of the men said, his voice loud in the deserted dining area.

  'Natural blonde, my arse,' the second one guffawed.

  Lasser looked right, his eyes hardening.

  'I'll have a white wine and a Guinness for my brother,' Tasha said, the smile still in place, ignoring the two men who walked over to the bar on the left.

  'No problem,' the woman said as she moved away from the table.

  Tasha glanced out of a window, a deserted wooden patio led down to a large garden area that vanished into a smothering of darkened trees.

  'You know, this is the first time we've ever been out like this,' Tasha said.

  Lasser looked at her in surprise. 'Are you sure?'

  'Positive, unless you class grabbing a burger as eating out?'

  Lasser found himself smiling.

  'So, have you thought anymore about the holiday? I've got time owing at work and it would be nice to get away for a few days.'

  'When were you thinking of going?'

  'Well, I could probably get the time off from next Wednesday.'

  'What if they want me back at work before then?'

  Tasha plucked the menu from the centre of the table and opened it. 'Well, I'm no expert but I would have thought it would have taken them longer than that to sort things out.'

  'Or they could sack me over the weekend.'

  She looked up at him, a frown plucking her brow. 'Would that bother you?'

  For the first time ever Lasser had to pause to think before answering. 'It's all I know, Tasha, and what sort of job would I do if I left or got kicked out?'

  'Do you ever give any thought to trying something new?' she asked.

  'Not really.'

  'Well, maybe you should.'

  'You think they'll give me the boot, don't you?'

  She looked at him and saw the panic flick through his gaze. 'I think it'll be a slapped wrist and then you'll be straight back to normal – that's what worries me.'

  Lasser blew out a sigh of relief at her response.

  'I just worry about you, we all do.'

  'Look, I know things have been a bit rough lately…'

  '''Lately''? Things are rough for you all the time. I don't want to see you dead before you've had the chance to lead a normal life.'

  Lasser scowled, grabbing the second menu and flicking it open. 'I do lead a normal life,' he muttered.

  'No, you don't, normal people are not shot and stabbed, they work nine to five and have a wife and kids or at the very least a girlfriend to share their time with. You work all the hours God sends and…'

  'So do the rest of the team,' he replied defensively.

  'The difference is that Bannister has Suzanne, I hear that Odette's got a new man in her life and then there's you, still single.'

  'What about you, are you seeing anyone?' Lasser asked in a lame attempt to deflect some of the flack.

  'No.'

  'So how are we different?' he asked with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

  'The difference is I don't put my life on the line every day. The riskiest thing I do is go out on the bike for a ride.'

  'I hope you wear a helmet?' he asked straight-faced.

  'You try getting a helmet to fit over this hair,' she replied with a smile.

  'Anyway, most of my days are spent filling out paperwork or inputting info onto a computer.'

  'Liar,' she chided as the woman approached the table with the two drinks on a tray.

  'Come on, Jenny, we're sick of bloody waiting for you to get your finger out!' one of the men shouted across the room.

  Lasser saw the woman try to keep the smile on her face but he could see the strain in her eyes as she approached.

  Lifting the drinks from the tray she placed them onto the table.

  'Are you OK?' Lasser asked.

  Jenny rolled her eyes as she slid the tray beneath her arm. 'The owner's son and he thinks he owns the place.'

  'Chop-chop, woman, or are you getting to old to get a spurt on?'

  Lasser saw Jenny's face flood with colour and felt his own anger flare.

  'Have you decided what you'd like for starters?' she asked, trying her best to keep the fixed smile on her face.

  'I'll have the soup,' Tasha said, keeping a wary eye on her brother.

  'Make that two soups, please,' he said.

  'I can see I'm going to have a word with my old man about you, Jenny, I think you're well past it.'

  Lasser turned in his seat, one of the men was facing the bar, the other one was watching Jenny as she hurried across the room. He was wearing designer jeans and a black shirt, his face tanned, he looked to be in his early thirties, old enough to know better Lasser thought.

  'Leave it,' Tasha said in a quiet voice.

  'Jesus, I could die of thirst at this rate,' the man said as Jenny hurried behind the bar.

  'Calm down, Andrew, I'm here now.'

  'About bloody time. Two lagers and make it quick,' he demanded.

  Lasser felt Tasha's hand close over his wrist.

  'None of our business,' she hissed.

  Lasser closed his eyes for a moment then turned to his sister. 'It's OK, I won't do anything stupid.'

  'Glad to hear it,' she replied before taking a sip from her glass.

  Lasser followed suit, gulping at the pint. 'OK, say we do go away, do you want sun and sand or cold and damp?'

  'Cold and damp.'

  'Scotland it is then.'

  'For Christ's sake just put it on the slate, it's not as if I'm going to do a runner, is it?'

  Lasser saw the warning look in Tasha's eyes. 'Why don't we get out of here, we can try somewhere else and…'

  'Your father told me last week that you had to settle what you owe, Andrew, and there were to be no more free drinks,' Jenny explained.

  Tasha stood up and slipped her coat from the back of the chair. 'Come on, we can try The Owls.'

  'Have you been grassing me up?' Andrew asked, his voice coming out as a hiss of annoyance.

  'I'm simply telling you what he said, now you can pay for what you have tonight and pay your father what you owe on the slate.'

  'I…'

  'So, that's five pounds eighty, please.'

  'My old man owns this place, he owns you, so if you don't watch your mouth then you'll be out on your arse and looking for another job.'

  Lasser felt Tasha take hold of his arm and steer him towards the door, his face darkening in anger as he glanced at Jenny.

  She took a backward step as the man loomed over the bar, his friend grinned then emptied half the lager down his throat.

  'Keep walking,' Tasha insisted.

  They were six feet from the door when Andrew spotted them. 'Hang on you two, you've ordered a starter, right?'

  Tasha tried to carry on walking but suddenly her brother stopped in his tracks and turned to face the two men.

  'It's OK, we're going to try somewhere else.'

  'That's fine, but you'll have to pay for what you ordered, the chef will be making it, so…'

  'How do you know what the chef will be doing?' Lasser asked as he shook Tasha's hand free and stepped towards the two men. 'We came here for a quiet meal and…'

  'You two interbreeding or what?' the one called Andrew mocked as he looked at the similarities between the two.

  His friend grinned at the quip, behind the bar Jenny's hand went to her mouth in shock.

  Before Lasser could respond, Tasha barged past him and jabbed out her finger.

  'This is my brother, he also happens to be a detective, which is bad for you, but one more disgusting word and I won't be able to stop him from rearranging your face.'

  The fr
iend looked at her in surprise, the smile still flickering on his face, Andrew's hands bunched into fists.

  'Now, we came here for something to eat, we did not come to listen to you bawling out this poor woman, so act your age and grow up.'

  She turned away and flicked her head towards the door.

  'Slut,' Andrew snarled.

  Tasha made a grab at her brother's sleeve, but he stormed past her, Andrew cocked his arm back but before he could throw the punch Lasser slammed into him, driving him back along the front of the bar and into the wall.

  'You should have listened to my sister and kept your fat trap shut!'

  'Look out!' Tasha shouted.

  Lasser didn't bother looking behind him he simply slammed his elbow back and felt the impact as his arm ploughed into the man's face. He heard him scream followed by the thud as he hit the carpeted floor.

  Suddenly, Andrew didn't look so confident as he stared nervously into Lasser's black eyes and saw the anger swarming there.

  'You want us to pay for two bowls of soup when I bet the ''chef'' doesn't even have the tin opener in his hand, you insult Jenny here and then cast aspersions on me and my sister. Then, to add to your idiotic behaviour your friend here attacks me while I'm having a quiet word with you.'

  'A quiet fucking word!' Andrew snarled.

  Lasser lashed out and cracked the back of his hand across his cheek, the man yelped in pain.

  'The next time you use the F-word it won't be a slap you get. Now, what's your name?'

  'Andrew.'

  Lasser sighed. 'I know that, you muppet, second name?'

  Andrew licked his lips, the sweat leaking down his forehead as Lasser continued to glare at him.

  'Look, I'm sorry OK, I've had a couple of drinks and…'

  'You drove here, and I bet it was more than a couple of drinks because you nearly knocked us both down when you came onto the car park in your Merc.'

  'I swear it was no more than two and I came here for something to eat, and…'

  'Were you going to pay for the food or add it to the slate that you have?'

  Andrew looked confused for a moment and then the penny dropped as he realised the copper must have been listening while he was moaning at Jenny.

  'Look, this is my old man's place, he owns it and I always pay my way.'

  Lasser glanced at Jenny as the man behind him continued to moan, blood seeping through his hands as he clasped them to his twisted nose.

  'How much does he owe on the booze?'

  'Over five hundred,' she replied in a quaking voice.

  'And what about food?'

  This time she shrugged her shoulders. 'I'm not sure to be honest.'

  Lasser looked back at Andrew.

  'Handy having a father who has a place like this, but I would imagine having a tosser like you hanging around here keeps legitimate paying customers away.'

  'Sod off, this has nothing to do with you!' he spat, his eyes growing dark with anger.

  'Name?' Lasser repeated.

  'No comment.'

  Lasser stepped back and shook his head as he pulled out his phone. 'I'm going to have you breathalysed, you stink of booze and you drove here.'

  'I…'

  'His name's Andrew Viner,' Jenny said.

  Viner fired her a look of hatred, his mouth twisted in anger. 'And that comment has just got you the sack, you stupid cow!'

  Lasser lashed out again, his hand cracked across the top of Viner's head and he yelped for the second time in as many minutes.

  'Are you related to Frank Viner?'

  'Yeah, and when he finds out what you've done then he won't be happy about it,' Viner shot back, running a hand across the top of his head.

  'OK, why not give Daddy a call and get him over here then we can sort this out?'

  Viner fumed but made no attempt to pull the phone from his pocket.

  Lowering his head, Lasser tapped at the screen before lifting the phone to his ear.

  'Who are you ringing?' Viner asked as he wiped a hand across his lips.

  'I told you, I'm having you breathalysed and if you're over the limit then it'll be a ban.'

  'I wasn't the one driving,' Viner sneered.

  Raising an eyebrow, Lasser's fingers danced over the screen. 'Really?' he said as he held the phone out, the brief clip showed Viner laughing as he climbed out from behind the wheel of the Mercedes.

  'So, now we know you're a liar as well as a loudmouth daddy's boy.'

  Lasser watched as Viner's face curdled though even now it wasn't a look of fear on the man's face but rather a childlike fury, as if Lasser had no right to question him about any of this.

  The look made the anger inside Lasser bloom. 'Used to getting your own way, aren't you, Mr Viner, I bet Daddy normally bales you out, doesn't he?'

  'Prick!' Viner yelled, the spittle flying from his fleshy lips.

  Behind the bar, Jenny took a backward step, her face registering shock and disgust.

  Tasha kept her eye on the man on the floor who lay on his side, his legs curled up to his chest, blood leaking onto the carpet blending in with the lurid pattern.

  'My, my, tantrum time, ' Lasser said as he watched the man closely.

  His words only served to infuriate Viner further who stood rigid and shaking, his hands locked by his side.

  'Going to stamp your feet, are you?' Lasser enquired.

  Viner's chest seemed to expand, and for a couple of seconds Lasser was convinced that he was going to attack.

  'I'm going to see my solicitor and…'

  'You mean Daddy's solicitor, don't you?'

  'I…'

  'After all, it's his money that pays for all this, isn't it? The designer clothes, the flash car and idiot friend who tags along because you get him free drinks and food.'

  'You…'

  'What do you do for a living?' Lasser demanded.

  'None of your business!' Viner replied petulantly.

  'Under normal circumstances I'd say you still lived at Daddy's fancy house with the thatched roof and…'

  'How do you know that!?' Viner demanded as his eyes sprang wide.

  'Oh, I was there when some nutter took shots at me and my colleagues with a shotgun.'

  Viner's mouth closed with an audible snap and he took two hurried backward steps, his face growing bright red.

  'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  'You see, I collared the man responsible and then I had a look around the house and looking at you I'd say your bedroom would be tacky with all the latest gadgets and black silk sheets on a king-size bed.'

  'Frigging shut it!' Viner roared.

  'But there was no room like that, so you have to live somewhere else. One of your father's swanky apartments perhaps, living rent-free and sponging off him.'

  'Oh, you are so going to pay for this.'

  Lasser smiled. 'Believe it or not I hear that a lot in this job, so I can add threatening a police office to your ever-growing list of misdemeanours.'

  Viner opened his mouth and Lasser waited for another tirade of abuse, when none was forthcoming he tapped at the screen again and waited for an answer.

  'All right, Spenner, it's Lasser, can you do me a favour and head out to The Bell on Drummers Lane, I want someone breathalysing?'

  Tasha could hear a garbled response, the words muffled.

  'Yeah, he nearly ran me and Tasha down on the carpark and now he's claiming he wasn't the one driving when I have him on my phone climbing from behind the wheel,' Lasser paused, 'great, see you in ten.'

  Viner continued to fume as Lasser pocketed the phone.

  'Now, you can either make a run for it – and I can knock you on your arse – or you can sit there quietly until my colleague arrives.'

  Andrew Viner didn't move, his hands continued to open and close, his face bright red with fury.

  Lasser continued to smile.

  72

  Scott Moss sat in the car, his face twisted into a look of pure hatred.
The back seat of the vehicle was littered with the contents of his office drawer. Reaching back, he fumbled amongst the debris and grabbed the quart bottle of whisky, unscrewing the lid and taking a gulp, gasping as the liquid burned its way down his throat.

  'Fucking bitch!' he bellowed, slamming a fist onto the wheel.

  Screwing his eyes closed, he pictured the scene, his boss, Alec Walker, demanding to know what the hell he'd been doing.

  Moss had tried to make excuses though the truth was he knew he had been fucked from the outset. That bitch, May, had stitched him up big time, Walker had told him about the clips on the phone, about how he had spent countless hours chatting about his holiday at the drinks machine when he should have been doing his job.

  Moss had stood there as Walker ripped into him, demanding answers to questions that Scott Moss could never have hoped to answer.

  'I gave you a chance here because your father was a close friend and when he died I wanted to do the right thing, yet this is how you repay me! It's bad enough that you've not been doing the job I pay you for, but I know how these things work and I am always prepared to turn a blind eye to certain misdemeanours, but you attacked May and…'

  'I didn't attack her,' Moss had interrupted and then lowered his eyes as Walker glared at him in disbelief.

  'She filmed you on her phone!' Walker's voice had risen, his face blotchy with rage as he jumped up from his executive swivel chair. 'You lunged across her desk, you looked like a bloody psychopath!'

  'I…'

  Walker had swiped a hand through the charged air. 'May Linton is excellent at her job, she hits the deadlines, nothing is ever too much trouble for her and she was right in everything she said about you.'

  'Jesus, Alec, I just lost my temper, but…'

  'You tried to assault her, you moron! I managed to get her to calm down, but it wouldn't surprise me if she takes you to the cleaners over this.'

  Moss had blinked several times as Walker's words slammed into him, each one like a slap across his burning face.

  'She could sue the arse off you for what you did, and to be honest I wouldn't blame her. Now, I want you out of here ASAP, so clear your desk and get out.'

  Moss had taken a backward step when the realisation hit him that his troubles could only just be starting.