Lasser flicked out the last two cigarettes from the pack and handed one over. 'Look, we don't know much about the Viners, but one of them must have approached the Fellows brothers, and the circles they move in are not good ones.'
'Yes, well, Frank Viner has the perfect alibi for all that shit with Randal Archer.'
'I get that, and like I said, perhaps it wasn't the father but the son who wanted rid of Archer. Then you have the break-in and Daz Black trying to take us out.'
'What about it?' Bannister asked as he took a deep pull on the cigarette.
Lasser unclipped his seatbelt. 'We know Andrew Viner is a tosser, I saw it first hand at The Royal Oak – Cheryl Hucknall said the same thing – and I don't buy it when Viner told her he was family and that's why he lets him live in the lap of luxury.'
'Blood's thicker than water,' Bannister offered.
'Yeah, but everyone has their limit. Cheryl said that Andrew never comes to the house, so they're not what you would call close and yet Viner hands over a fortune every month to his good-for-fuck-all son. Perhaps it was Andrew who put Daz Black up to robbing the house…?'
'Yes, but there was only two and a half grand in the safe, which to someone like Andrew Viner would be chicken feed.'
Lasser thought of what the DCI was saying and then he frowned. 'What if Black was there to kill Viner and not rob him?'
Bannister smiled thinly. 'That thought had crossed my mind though Black is unable to talk at the moment, but that'll be one of the things I'll be asking him as soon as he opens his eyes.'
Lasser yawned and Bannister checked the clock on the dash. 'I wish I was in the Lakes now, I bet it's a grand night up there.'
Lasser tilted his head and glanced through the windscreen at the dark night sky.
He thought of Odette and almost sighed as he pictured her with this new man in her life but then an image of Jackie Francis came into his mind, her head swaying to the sound of the music from her earphones as she stood in front of the lifted bonnet.
'What are you grinning at?' Bannister asked.
Lasser turned, the smile still locked in place. 'You're right, I bet it is nice up there tonight.'
Bannister raised an eyebrow before tossing the cigarette through the open window. 'I feel shagged,' he said.
Lasser clicked open the door. 'What time do you want me in the morning?'
The DCI shrugged as he yawned. 'Keep your phone on, because we need to catch up with the Viners tomorrow. I can smell shit coming from those two and I want it scraped up and dumped in the bin.'
Lasser frowned at the analogy before stepping out of the car.
He watched Bannister drive away and then he looked at the cigarette trapped between his fingers and sighed. It was the last one and he knew that if he went into the house and tried to sleep the fact that he had no fags handy would drive him mad.
Pulling the car keys from his pocket he unlocked the car and climbed inside, backing off the drive and heading out to grab a sleeve of cigarettes from the all-night Tesco in town.
103
Stokes bolted down the flight of concrete steps, his head reverberating with the sound of Scott Moss screaming in torment.
He had hesitated, paralysed by shock, then turned and dashed through the darkness, his arms waving in front of him as he headed for the double doors.
Moss had screamed again, and Stokes had almost pissed his pants at the agony-filled screech.
He reached the next flight of steps as the door above banged making him yelp in terror, he realised that Moss must be dead, and the mad bitch was now chasing him. He never saw the irony of when he had broken into Medea's house with the intention of making her pay for his shambles of a life. Stokes clattered down the steps and reached the ground floor. He paused for a moment and then he heard footsteps overhead rapidly tackling the steps, torchlight bounced off the wall above. Stokes turned to run, the terror chasing him down the dark corridor.
He knew that his stumbling escape was laughable, the woman had the light to guide her and while he fumbled in the dark she would close him down and then…
An image of his own body thrashing on the floor crashed through his mind, and he increased his speed as he saw the faint outline of the door at the far end of the corridor.
Suddenly, the light shone past him and he knew she was getting closer, the blood-soaked knife clasped in her hand ready to drive it between his shoulder blades.
Hitting the door with hands outstretched, Stokes blasted from the building, the relief immense as the pale moon illuminated the yard. Cutting left, he sprinted towards the fence, his flying feet brushing through tall weeds that grew in the cracked concrete, his heart stuttering.
Reaching the gap, he slithered through sideways onto the pavement.
He turned to find the woman streaking across the yard, hair flying, the knife in her right hand, her face contorted with loathing.
Adam Stokes had never seen a look like it, spinning around, legs and arms pumping he ran for his life.
104
Armed with the sleeve of cigarettes, Lasser opened the box and lifted a pack out, tossing the remainder onto the passenger seat.
The car park of the Tesco superstore was relatively deserted, and he watched a young guy push a line of trolleys towards the Perspex shelter, the wheels clattering on the tarmac as he went by.
Lighting a cigarette, he inched the window down and closed his eyes, the engine purring, the radio on low.
When the image of Jackie rose in his mind he frowned in surprise. Normally, he would be trying to untangle the numerous threads in his brain, trying to find a new angle, a fresh approach, or worse still he would be thinking about Odette up in the Lakes, his mind distressed as he thought of the chances he had let slip by. Yet miraculously his mind remained fixed on the dark-haired woman in the Pinky and Perky T-shirt as she linked her arm through his.
When the tentative voice of warning tried to tell him it was a waste of time he pushed it away and eased back in the seat. The walk to the hall had been a long one and yet they had chatted about all sorts of things, the conversation had flowed as she told him about her life on the canal and he had reciprocated by telling her about growing up in the northern town.
The strange thing was he rarely talked about his background to anyone, not even Odette knew the whole truth about his past. Yet he had found himself talking freely about his twin sister and the father who had been a complete waste of time.
Jackie had listened, and not once had she interrupted or tried to ease away from his side as he talked.
Opening his eyes, he blinked out into the night, the yellow lights dotted around the car park sent splodges of sickly light to the ground, the guy who had been pushing the trolleys was heading back to the store, taking his time as he had a crafty cigarette.
Lasser pulled out of the parking space and drove across the car park and back to the road before turning left.
Five minutes later he slowed down for the side street that led back to his estate but changed his mind and continued past the opening, his brow crinkled as he grabbed another gear.
It was late, he was tired, and he knew that Bannister could ring at any time of day or night demanding urgent action and yet he continued to drive. Reaching out, he turned the radio up slightly, his fingers tapping on the wheel to the late-night soft music.
He drove on autopilot, his eyes narrowed as warm air seeped from the vents. When he reached the roundabout at the Boar's Head pub he turned right and drove down the twisting road to the valley below. The road straightened out for a couple of hundred yards and then he turned right onto Red Rock, the lane narrowed and started to climb.
Suddenly, his mind threw up the memory of being on this road in the middle of a freezing winter. Halfway up, the car had come to a halt, the wheels spinning on the glass-like surface. He had been forced to abandon the vehicle and then he had run into the snowstorm desperate to reach a derelict house where he suspected Odette was being kept. The night
had ended with Odette in a coma and Lasser had found himself in the canal, he had been saved by Susan Coyle who had dragged him through the freezing dark water to the towpath.
The headlights lanced out as the road continued to climb up the steep hillside.
As always when he thought of Susan he felt the pain of her death slice into his heart. She had been an extraordinary young woman and someone he had trusted implicitly, which in his world was a rarity to say the least.
Rounding the corner, he blinked when he saw the traffic lights at the canal bridge flick to red. Pulling up, he glanced to the left, he could see Jackie Francis's barge, soft muted light shining from behind the blinds.
Lasser felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he realised he had driven out here deliberately. It was almost as if he had needed to check that the whole thing hadn't been a dream, a cruel mind-trick designed to make him feel as if he were slowly going mad.
When he heard the tap on the driver's window he jerked in his seat and snapped his head to the right.
Jackie looked in at him from beneath the hood of a white sweatshirt, her dark hair spilling out, framing her face, her brown eyes locked onto his.
Lasser felt his face flood with colour as she smiled, then he slid the window down, his face burning with embarrassment.
'Evening,' he said and cringed inwardly as she raised an eyebrow.
'I was just letting Poppet have a wee,' she explained. 'The kettle's on and I've got some hot chocolate if you fancy one?'
The lights changed to green, but the road was deserted, the tail lights shining red as Lasser kept his foot on the brake. 'I didn't think you had any hot chocolate?'
'I went out earlier and bought some.'
'Oh right.'
'You park up and I'll make the drinks,' she said with a smile.
Lasser watched as she walked around the front of the car, vanishing down a narrow path that led to the water.
Dropping the handbrake, he spun the wheel to the right and parked up before climbing out and locking the car.
Half a minute later, he had walked under the bridge, he could see light spilling out from the rear of the barge, the doors standing open.
Climbing on board, Lasser dipped his head and Jackie looked up from the small kitchen area.
'Sugar?' she asked.
Stepping down into the boat, he smiled tentatively and nodded. 'Two please.'
'Can you close the door?'
Lasser did as she asked and then walked along the wide galley, the place was lit by numerous candles, the air laced with the sweet smell of Jasmine.
Poppet trotted over and Lasser reached down and stroked her left ear, his face still burning with humiliation at having be caught on the bridge eyeing up her boat.
'I take it you're not working?' she asked, adding hot water to the cups.
'I finished about half an hour ago, but I needed some cigs, so I went to Tesco and then I thought I'd have a ride around and a think.'
'And you found yourself all the way out here?' she asked as she carried the drinks over and handed Lasser his cup.
'Believe it or not I only live about ten minutes away and sometimes driving helps me think.'
'So, what does it feel like to be reinstated?'
Lasser moved left and sat down on the sofa, as earlier, she sat facing him and he had a sudden image of a psychiatrist facing a disturbed patient ready to unlock the dark recesses of their mind. Clearing his throat, he took a sip from the cup.
'Nice,' he said.
'Does that mean the drink is nice or it's nice to be back in the thick of things?'
Lasser looked at her, she had pushed the hood from her head and her hair cascaded down onto her shoulders as she slipped out of the jacket.
'I'd never call the job nice,' he said then smiled. 'But the brew is excellent.'
Poppet jumped up onto the sofa and immediately curled into a ball and closed her eyes.
'Do you normally stay up this late?' he asked.
'I'm afraid I'm a bit of a night owl and Poppet has got used to it and normally she wants to have a sniff around outside at daft o'clock.'
'Do you ever get nervous living out here on your own?'
'Sometimes,' she admitted. 'But I try not to let it bother me, I mean I've never had to call the police to report a stalker.'
Lasser felt even more heat burning his face as he hurriedly took another drink from the cup.
Then Jackie laughed, her white teeth flashing as she threw her head back.
'Jesus, I bet you think I'm a right oddball?' Lasser asked with a heavy sigh.
Wiping her eyes, she shook her head before looking at him keenly. 'I like to think I'm a good judge of character and besides I said you could call anytime.'
'I promise if the lights had been on green I would have driven straight over the bridge and you wouldn't have caught me loitering,' then he groaned at his choice of words and Jackie burst out laughing again.
Despite his embarrassment, Lasser smiled as she continued to giggle.
Poppet wagged her tail at the sound and Lasser took another sip, wishing the heat would subside in his face as he waited for Jackie to stop giggling.
105
Adam Stokes had always liked to think of himself as fit only now was he starting to realise that lifting weights and getting a spray tan didn't equate to actual fitness. As he ran, his coordination started to unravel, his body struggling to carry his bulk along at speed. He knew the woman would be closing him down and any second now she would be on him, the savage knife ripping through his flesh, slicing muscle to the bone, the blood would spurt and…
He actually screamed as the image pummelled through his brain like a hammer blow. His feet hit the glass-strewn tarmac, the deserted road seemed to stretch out into infinity, huge mills stood left and right with no side streets to offer a hint of escape. When the headlights turned the corner and hit him, Stokes started to wave his arms wildly.
'Help me!' he screamed.
The sound of the car engine increased and then the lights were flicked to main beam, blinding Stokes who continued to wail as the terror raged through the core of him.
When the blue lights spiralled on top of the vehicle, he closed his mouth with a snap and suddenly the terror came from the front as well as behind as he realised he would have to explain what he was doing here, running down the street with a knife-wielding woman giving chase.
The car bore down, and Stokes threw a glance over his shoulder, his eyes springing wide as he saw the road behind him was empty apart from the single car parked in the distance. Then his legs became tangled and he flew forward, yelping as he slammed into the ground, the skin on his hands shredding as he lay sprawled on his face, the headlights pinning him to the spot.
He tried to breathe, but the terror took the last of his breath and he gulped at the night air like a stranded fish.
When he heard two car doors open and then close he started to cry, partly in relief, partly in fear of how he would explain what the hell he was doing here in the first place.
106
Lasser hid a yawn behind the raised cup of hot chocolate.
'You're a full-on kind of guy, aren't you?' Jackie asked, she was sitting with her left foot tucked beneath her in the chair opposite, a smile still playing around the corners of her mouth.
'I don't feel full-on, I feel fuc…' he stopped himself and his face burned red again.
Jackie smiled, placing her cup on the small table at her side. 'Listen, why don't you sleep on the sofa and get some rest?'
At first Lasser had though his mind was playing tricks on him. 'But you hardly know me.'
'Like I said, I'm a good judge of character, besides I'll lock my bedroom in case you sleep walk,' her smile flickered as Lasser yawned again.
'Are you sure?' he asked.
'Of course I am, you look shattered and I'd sooner you slept here than think of you driving home half-asleep.'
Lasser stretched his legs out and eased back i
nto the plush cushions. 'Thanks, Jackie, that's good of you.'
'I'll get you a blanket,' she said rising to her feet.
Lasser watched her walk towards the bedroom, an unconscious sway in her hips, her dark hair shining as she walked.
Rubbing at his eyes, he almost groaned aloud at the sight, when his phone began to ring the groan escaped his lips, though it was one of aggravation rather than want. 'Shit,' he mumbled as he snatched it from his coat.
When he saw Spenner's number flashing up at him he grimaced before tapping at the screen.
'Jesus, Spenner, do you know what time it is?'
'It's one o'clock, boss,' Spenner replied as if he were helping Lasser out with the actual time.
Lasser rolled his eyes in disbelief. 'I meant what are you doing ringing me at this hour?'
'Oh right, sorry, crossed lines there, I thought you were asking me the…'
'What do you want, Spenner?' he broke in.
'I'm over in Leigh with Sally Wright, we were doing a routine sweep of the town and…'
'The unabridged version, if you don't mind.'
Spenner cleared his throat. 'We were heading alongside the canal, you know, around Butts Bridge and we found this guy running down the street waving his arms about.'
'In Leigh that's hardly earth-shattering news.'
Jackie reappeared with a blanket in her arms, Lasser glanced up as she walked towards him and smiled, though he felt anything but happy.
'Ah but you see this guy swears he was being chased by a woman with a knife.'
'Domestic?'
'Not according to Stokes, he swears…'
'''Stokes''?' Lasser snapped as an image of the man leapt into his mind. The last time he had seen Stokes had been when he and Medea had been going out together.
Someone had attacked her outside Lasser's house, the attacker had been wearing a balaclava and thankfully Bannister had been en route to Lasser's house, but the bastard had escaped, leaving Medea slumped in the road, her eyes full of terror, her heart hammering.
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