Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  Lasser suspected that it had been Stokes, so he had called at the man's house and put the fear of God into him and things had calmed down. Not long after he and Medea had split up and Lasser had forgotten about the man until now.

  Jackie placed the thick cream blanket by his side before picking up her cup and taking another sip.

  'Has Stokes said what he was doing there in the first place?'

  'To be honest, boss, he's sat in the back of the squad car with Sally and I wouldn't have bothered you with any of this but when we got out to see to him he was screaming about this mystery woman with the knife.'

  Lasser frowned in confusion. 'Did you see this woman?'

  'Stokes was sprawled in the middle of the road and it's obvious he was terrified by something but there was no sign of any woman with a knife.'

  'Is he stoned?' Lasser asked.

  'No, just scared. But you see there is a car parked on the street and I've just run the registration and it belongs to a Scott Moss.'

  'Was Stokes with this Moss character?'

  'I tried asking him but the bugger's clammed up and won't say a word.'

  'Right, keep him there, I'm on my way.'

  'We're parked on Canal Street, the one with the mills on.'

  'I know it, give me twenty minutes,' he said before ending the call.

  Lasser looked at the blanket and sighed. 'Sorry, I've got to go.'

  'No problem,' she replied.

  He waited a couple of seconds expecting her to ask him about the phone call, but she simply stood there with the slight smile hovering on her lips.

  'Thanks for the hot chocolate,' he said lamely as he stood up and pulled the car keys from his pocket.

  'Anytime.'

  'Listen, I know you said making a date was a bad idea, but I'd really like to take you out for a meal if you fancy it?'

  Jackie pursed her lips as she looked up at him. 'Like I said, you're a driven guy, and I would imagine phone calls in the middle of the night are not a new thing for you?'

  Lasser felt his shoulders sag with disappointment.

  'But I was going to do a casserole today so when you've finished what you're doing you're more than welcome to join me.'

  Lasser found himself smiling. 'That would be lovely,' he said.

  'OK, but if I'm out walking Poppet there's a spare key under the plant pot at the front of the boat, so just grab it and let yourself in.'

  Lasser found his mouth falling open and Jackie laughed.

  'Don't look so shocked, I trust you,' she said.

  Clearing his throat, he smiled. 'OK.'

  He walked through the boat with Jackie just behind. At the steps he stopped and turned.

  'Thanks again for the drink,'

  Their eyes met and then she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze.

  'Catch you later,' she said.

  Lasser felt her hand slip away and resisted the urge to make a grab for it. He turned and went outside.

  The full moon had moved across the sky, the air was heavy with the scent of dew-soaked grass, the stars glittering above.

  'Make sure you lock up,' he said as she peered up at him from inside the boat.

  'Don't worry, I will.'

  Stepping off the barge, he gave her a wave before turning and walking along the towpath. At the bridge he glanced over his shoulder, the door to the barge was closed and Jackie had vanished inside.

  Shaking his head, he turned and hurried towards the car, his mind thrumming with want, his right hand closed as if he was holding her heat in the palm of his hand.

  107

  Andrew Viner had his head on the steering wheel, eyes closed, his brain in uproar.

  After escaping through the hidden gate, he had run down the lane to the car, his emotions see-sawing between anger and fear.

  He had driven away, headed out onto the moors and parked up before snorting a line of coke from the palm of his sweating hand.

  The drug had just zipped through his mind when his phone had started to ring again. Pulling it from his pocket, he had looked at the amount of missed calls in amazement. Each and every one had been from his father, and the bastard had even left a voicemail.

  Despite the drugs careering through his brain, Viner had managed to activate the voicemail icon and hit the loudspeaker button.

  'Listen to me, you little fucker, you'll get nothing else from me, you piece of shit, not a fucking penny unless you answer my calls. I'm sick to death of bailing you out and it ends here, and I want to know who put that wanker, Black, up to robbing my house!'

  Andrew had groaned in despair as his father's voice boiled in anger.

  'All these years I've tried to get you to see sense, when the truth is I should have ignored your mother. After you attacked and raped that girl I should have gone straight to the police and you should have been banged up, you frigging sick fuck!'

  Andrew had licked his lips, his pupils huge in fear as he listened to his father rant.

  Finally, he had hit the end icon before slumping forwards over the wheel and falling asleep in a haze of fear and paranoia.

  Now, the phone trilled again, and he jerked up in his seat, convinced it was the sound of a siren he was hearing as his old man made good on his promise.

  Snapping his head to the left, he saw the phone flashing on the passenger seat.

  Grabbing it, he swallowed hard when he saw his father's name on the screen.

  His hand trembled, the call went to voicemail again and he knew that his old man would be leaving yet another tirade of abuse for him.

  The screen went dark and a few seconds later he lifted the phone and tentatively went to the voicemails.

  'I've just had Cheryl on the phone and I fucking know it was you at the house. Hardly anyone knows about the gate in the fence and if you don't meet me right now then I'm going to go to the police and I'll tell them all about you and fuck the consequences. You can spin them your bullshit about me, but I don't give a flying fuck. I want to know where you are right now and if you don't contact me in the next ten minutes then you are well and truly screwed.'

  Viner's hand snapped open and the phone fell into his lap as the reality of his situation broke through the haze of cocaine.

  108

  Lasser shivered as he opened the car door and climbed out into the chill night air.

  He could see the squad car parked up behind a new-looking Mondeo, as he approached the car the door opened and Spenner stepped out.

  'Morning, boss.'

  Lasser nodded and glanced into the back of the squad car, Adam Stokes peered out at him before snapping his head away, his eyes wide with shock as recognition bloomed.

  'Has he said anything else?' Lasser asked.

  Spenner rubbed his hands together against the cold. 'He's just saying he wants to go home, he even claimed that he could be mistaken about the woman with the knife.'

  'Mistaken?'

  Spenner shrugged and yawned.

  'And you say the car belongs to a Scott Moss?'

  'Yeah, he lives in Wigan, so God knows what his car's doing here.'

  'Perhaps it's been nicked,' Lasser pondered as he looked up at the hulking mill on the left.

  'Possible, I suppose.'

  'Right, try and find out while I have a word with Stokes.'

  Spenner nodded and pressed the two-way on his shoulder.

  Walking around the car, Lasser opened the driver's door and climbed in behind the wheel, Sally smiled at him from the passenger seat.

  He winked at her before turning in the seat, Stokes's face was shadowed but Lasser could see the nervous look in his wide eyes.

  'Right, what were you doing running down the street in the middle of the night shitting yourself?' Lasser demanded, wasting no time on pointless conversation.

  In the passenger seat, Sally Wright cleared her throat as she watched Lasser's face change, any hint of warmth left his dark eyes, his voice sounded low and diamond hard.

  Stokes clamped his
lips together, his hands locked in his lap.

  'Come on, Stokes, it's the middle of the night and we both know you're a wanker, so I want to know what you are doing here?'

  Stokes tried to press himself further back into the seat, his body starting to sweat again as he realised that Lasser wasn't going to let him simply walk away without offering an explanation. He wondered why, out of all the useless tossers in the police force, it had to be the only one who clung like a blood-sucking leech and kept on and on until he dragged every bit of information out of you.

  'Cat got your tongue?' Lasser asked.

  'Look, I was just out walking and…'

  'Do you still live at Beech Hill?'

  Stokes nodded. 'Yeah, but I've moved back to my mother's for a bit.'

  'Where's your car?' Lasser asked, pulling out his cigarettes and lighting up.

  'I don't have one.'

  Blowing a cloud of smoke towards Stokes, Lasser sighed. 'So, how did you get all the way over here from Beech Hill?'

  'I got the bus.'

  'What time?'

  Stokes could feel his hands shaking as he thought about Scott Moss screaming when the mad bitch opened him up with the black blade. 'Late this afternoon,' he lied.

  'So, tell me what you're doing here on this shithole street waving your arms about and crying in the middle of the night?'

  'I told you, I was walking and…'

  'We both know that's shite, you live about eight miles away and you expect me to believe you took a bus out here to tramp around this dump?'

  Stokes closed his eyes, he could see the absurdity of his words and yet he didn't know what else to say.

  'The car in front belongs to someone called Moss, do you know the man?'

  His heart beat faster, the sweat seemed to increase until it felt as if it was pouring from him, his mind stuttering as he tried to think of the right reply.

  'I'll take the fact that you can't answer me and you're sweating like a pig that the answer is yes.'

  Adam Stokes felt the sides of the car close in around him until all he could see was Lasser glaring at him with his black eyes.

  'So, where is Moss?'

  'I don't know,' Stokes mumbled.

  'You do know one another then?'

  Stokes realised his mistake, suddenly his mind was full of Lasser on the phone as he tried to get to Medea, his voice loud even through the door. The threats slamming into him as Lasser roared.

  'Come on, dickhead, talk,' Lasser suddenly snarled.

  'I know Moss, but I swear I didn't know that was his car.'

  This time Lasser actually laughed out loud. 'Jesus, listen to yourself. You admit to knowing the man and you expect us to believe that it's just a coincidence that you are running down a street that happens to have his car parked up, the only bloody car on the road?'

  Stokes wanted to thrust the door open and run, though he knew that if he did Lasser would be on him before he had taken half a dozen steps.

  'OK, I was meant to meet him here,' he lied.

  'Why?'

  'Just for a chat,' Stokes said and then almost groaned out loud at the answer.

  Suddenly, Lasser thrust the door open and climbed out before snatching the back door open. 'Get out,' he demanded.

  For a few seconds, Stokes didn't move and then Lasser dipped his head and peered in at him. 'You have two seconds, or I drag you out.'

  Stokes shuffled along the seat and Lasser stepped back to let him out of the car.

  'I want to know where Moss is, and I want to know about the woman you said was chasing you?'

  Suddenly, Adam Stokes knew that the shit he was in was very deep indeed. Then the smallest of internal voices piped up, informing him that in reality he had done nothing wrong. After all, it was the woman who had slaughtered Moss, all he had done was run from the building in fear for his life.

  'Moss is dead,' he said and watched Lasser's eyes narrow even further.

  'How?'

  'It was the woman, she fucking stabbed him, and I only just managed to get away, she was chasing me and if these coppers hadn't turned up she would have gutted me just like she did to Moss.'

  Sally Wright climbed from the car to stand by Spenner's side. They watched Lasser take another pull on the cigarette and toss the cigarette in the gutter.

  'Where's the body?'

  Stokes pointed up at the old mill. 'Up there, second floor and…'

  'Show us.'

  Stokes's eyes sprang wide. 'No fucking way, she could still be in there, she…'

  'You said she was chasing you down the street, so why would she decide to go back to a murder scene?'

  Stokes could provide no answer and then he looked at the gap where the second car had been parked and he dragged a hand over his eyes. 'There were two cars parked up when I got here and…'

  'I take it you got in through the fence?' Lasser asked.

  Stokes nodded, Lasser flicked his head towards Spenner and Wright and they walked towards the gap.

  Seconds later, all four of them were heading towards the old mill, and once again Adam Stokes felt like crying as Lasser stuck close to his side.

  109

  May stood beneath the shower, the water pummelling her body. Her mind reeling with the images that hurtled through her brain.

  She tried to stop the barrage but couldn't halt the torrent of information that swept through her mind.

  The fact that she had worked with Scott Moss for two years and yet not once suspected that he had been one of her attackers sizzled through her brain. She thought of all the times she had caught him watching her, his eyes on her breasts, his gaze insolent as if he didn't care if she knew or not.

  That was the real reason she had started to gather information on the man, he had been the same with most of the women in the office. Most tried to ignore him as he brushed past them or made some inappropriate comment about the way they looked. One or two played along, no doubt concerned about losing their jobs if they complained.

  May closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the water spray into her face.

  She had hated the way he behaved, hated his attitude, the way he would strut around demanding that the rest of the team covered for his lax ways. Yet she had never suspected his true nature, never even considered that the man she saw on a daily basis had been involved in the attack that had changed her forever.

  She tried to fathom how that was possible, how she could have looked at the bastard and not seen what was right there in front of her eyes.

  After the attack, May had insisted that she wanted to remain anonymous and the court had granted her wishes. There had been one or two reporters who had got close to discovering her identity but then they had moved on to easier pickings, not wishing to run the risk of breaking the court order.

  She thought back to when she was crouched behind the pallet of insulation listening to the two men talking.

  Snapping off the shower, her lips mouthed the name… Stokes.

  She grabbed a towel and rubbed at her body and hair before tossing it to the floor and going through the apartment to her bedroom.

  She had no idea why she had stopped chasing Stokes down the street, but some sixth sense had demanded that she get into the car and drive away.

  For a few seconds, she had hesitated, her mind in uproar as she watched one of her attackers run down the street. Then, she had climbed into the car and drove away without a backward glance.

  She had no doubt that she could have chased Stokes down and slaughtered him on the darkened street yet somehow that had seemed too easy a way out for the bastard.

  Then the name Andrew Viner seeped into her mind, another name, another animal she would hunt down and kill.

  Dressing quickly in jogging pants and sweatshirt she made her way to the sofa and grabbed her tablet.

  Seconds later, she went in search of the ones who had ruined her life. Determined to get her revenge no matter what the cost.

  110

/>   Bannister rubbed a hand over his tired eyes before staring down at the eviscerated body.

  Doc Shannon was crouched by the side of Moss, his torchlight flicking from the ghastly stomach wound – the entrails grey and wet by his side – to the bloodied face.

  'Trauma to the face, looks like a broken nose and…'

  'Bugger that, he's been gutted, so why the hell are you talking about a bloody nose?'

  Shannon flicked the torch up into Bannister's face who threw up an arm to block the glare.

  'Bastard!'

  The doctor smiled thinly and lowered the beam. 'He was stabbed to the left of the abdomen and then the blade was swiped to the right, opening the cavity.'

  'Nasty,' the DCI mumbled.

  'He would have bled to death in less than a minute.'

  'You'd need a serious knife to inflict that sort of damage, right?'

  Shannon rose to his feet, the beam of light still trained on the body. 'Well, it would take more than a pen knife that's for sure.'

  Bannister gave him a withering stare as he turned and looked towards Lasser who stood in a corner of the room with the man named Stokes backed up to the wall. Lasser had a finger jabbed under his nose and Stokes looked terrified.

  'Perhaps you should get over there before we have another murder to attend to,' Shannon suggested.

  Bannister grunted but headed over, he could see Spenner and Sally Wright standing to the right.

  'Have SOCO been called?' he asked Spenner as he approached.

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Right, well, head outside and when they arrive show them up here.'

  Spenner nodded and walked away, Sally clasped her hands behind her back and watched Bannister warily as he strode by.

  'Right, Sergeant, what does our friend here have to say?'

  Lasser glanced over his shoulder and Stokes tried to shuffle to the left but Lasser shot out a hand and grabbed his sleeve.

  Bannister drew level and tapped Lasser's arm. 'Easy, Brutus,' he said.

  Reluctantly, Lasser let his hand slide away.

  'Now, Mr Stokes, I want to know what you were doing in this mill with a dead man gutted on the floor?'