His eyes fell on the building again, the girl was inside, her hands and feet taped, her mouth sealed shut, although she didn't fully understand her predicament, he knew that she was down there expecting to die.
'Wonderful,' he whispered, his breath steaming briefly on the windowpane.
59
Lasser fed change into the drinks machine as Odette pulled in through the station gates, Roger in the passenger seat already unclipping his seat belt as they parked up.
The plastic cup dropped into the slot and he watched it fill with hot chocolate, by the time he retrieved it they were heading for the station entrance.
Taking a sip, he sighed in satisfaction just as Bannister came flying through the gates and parked up at the side of Odette's black Audi.
Moving to the window, Lasser opened it as the DCI climbed out of the Range Rover.
'What time do you call this?' he shouted.
Bannister glowered as he slammed the car door. 'Get me a brew,' he bellowed back.
Lasser grinned and closed the window just as the door at his back opened and Odette appeared with Roger a few steps behind.
'Morning, you two, do you want the usual?' he asked.
Odette nodded as she pulled out a chair and sat down, stifling a yawn.
Roger smiled at Lasser. 'Coffee for me please.'
Dropping more change into the slot, he tapped at the buttons before turning. 'So, what have you got planned for today?'
Loosening the buttons on her jacket, Odette glanced towards him. 'We're going to go back over the cases and see if we can find out anything new.'
Before Lasser could reply, the door was thrust open and Bannister came into the room, his freshly-shaven face set in a frown.
'Coffee, two sugars,' he demanded before sitting down by Odette's side.
'Feel like a school drinks monitor,' Lasser quipped as he lifted Odette's free before hitting the buttons again.
Walking over, he placed the drink in front of her, and she smiled up at him before looking at Bannister.
'Are you OK?' she asked her boss.
As he turned and headed back to the drinks machine, Lasser saw his scowl deepen.
'I'm fine,' Bannister replied, though Lasser could hear he was anything but by the tone of his voice.
'Are you sure?'
Lasser winced at Odette's follow-up question as he lifted out the drink and hit the keys again.
'Something's bothering me,' Bannister replied. 'The trouble is I don't have a bloody clue what it is.'
The last cup filled, Lasser plucked it free before heading over to the table.
'Thanks, boss,' Roger said as Lasser handed the drink over.
Bannister took his without uttering a word.
Sitting down, Lasser folded his arms as he looked across the table at the DCI.
Catching his eye, Bannister shook his head. 'I've got this feeling that we're missing something, but I don't know what it is.'
'Chances are we could be on the wrong track completely, we have the list of unsolved murders but the man responsible for killing Julie Rawlins might not be working to the same list,' Lasser said, keeping his voice low and even in an attempt to stop the DCI going off the deep end.
'I never said it was a definite,' Roger said, his face tinted with red.
Bannister grunted before clapping a hand on Roger's shoulder.
'You've given us something to aim for and it was good work.'
Lasser watched as more colour flooded Roger's usually pale complexion.
Closing his eyes, Lasser tried to think, but the truth was he was missing that nicotine rush, so far, he hadn't had a cigarette which as far as he was concerned was a small victory, but right now he needed a smoke.
Rising to his feet, he turned and headed for the door.
'I know where you're going,' Bannister said as he followed suit.
Pulling open the door, Lasser lifted the battered pack of cigarettes from his pocket and Bannister nodded as he followed him outside, leaving Roger looking bemused.
'Lasser always thinks better when he's had a cigarette,' Odette explained.
'That sounds dubious,' he replied, looking more confused than ever.
'I know, but it's the truth,' she replied with a smile. 'Right, let's get to work, we have a busy day ahead of us.'
Roger nodded before finishing his drink and following Odette to the door.
By the time they made it to the Perspex shelter they both had a cigarette on the go.
The view over the back of the station was one of mud-lathered fields and distant woodland that looked bland and washed out behind the drizzly rain.
'Did you sleep OK?' Lasser asked.
'I slept fine,' Bannister replied.
They fell silent, Lasser turning to look out over the dismal view.
He had worked with Bannister long enough to know that when he looked like this something was bothering him about the case, the trouble was he had been unable to say why he felt uneasy.
Lasser thought back over the list of names, six women murdered over a period of almost thirty years, not one had suffered any kind of sexual abuse, that was a link of sorts, but Roger had mooted the idea that it could have been one person responsible for all the deaths.
'What are you thinking?' Bannister asked.
'Just going over the victims.'
'Do you think it could be one bastard who murdered all six of them?' the DCI asked.
Lasser pulled a face and then shrugged. 'It sounds farfetched but we both know that none of them were sexually motivated attacks so that's a link of sorts.'
'Come on, Sergeant, we both know that he could have got his thrill from the murder itself, not all sick bastards rape the victim.'
Lasser blew smoke out from beneath the canopy and watched as it drifted off into the wet morning air. 'We're concentrating on unsolved murders right.'
'You know we are,' Bannister growled as smoke blasted from his nostrils. 'It would be pointless looking at murders where the killer was caught, wouldn't it?'
Lasser felt the thought flash through his mind and he grabbed it and hauled it back, his eyes closed as he tried to concentrate.
'Have you fallen asleep?'
Ignoring the barbed comment, Lasser felt his forehead crease, six victims killed years apart, under normal circumstances it would have made sense to think that they had all been killed by separate individuals. Yet the fact remained that although they had all died violent deaths, not one had been molested in any way which…
Suddenly his eyes sprang wide.
Bannister dropped the cigarette to the floor before screwing his boot onto the stump. 'You've thought of something, haven't you?' he asked hopefully.
'Shit,' Lasser hissed.
'Come on, man, out with it?'
'We could have fucked up,' Lasser said as he took a final pull on the cigarette before flicking it out into the rain.
'In what way?'
'We found six victims, right?'
'Jesus, Lasser, just fucking spit it out!' Bannister demanded, the anger flaring in his eyes.
'What about cases where the victim was never found?'
Bannister took a step back, his scowl growing ever deeper. 'What are you talking about?'
Taking a shivering sigh, Lasser began to speak. 'Six victims, each one found in a different location, spanning the best part of thirty years, they could be linked, but we can't be sure of that.'
'We know that, you Muppet.'
'OK, but what if there are victims who have never been found, what if they were suspected murders but without a body then there was no way to prove it.'
Bannister's eyes widened, and at last he knew what had been bothering him, what had been just out or reach.
'Fuck me,' he said as his shoulders sagged. 'But if that is the case, then how could the killer do a copycat version of a murder when the body was never found?'
'I have no idea, but we have to check, we have to widen the search and include missin
g females who have never been found, then see if we can link them to the six dead women that we know about.'
Flicking his sleeve, Bannister checked his watch, his face agitated as he realised that Lasser was right, they were pinning their hopes on the killer turning up at the mill in the town centre with Clara Bell still alive. But what if the bastard had looked into possible cases where foul play had been suspected but the body was never found, if that were the case then he might not even turn up at the mill, he could be somewhere else entirely?
'Come on, we need to get to work on this,' Bannister didn't wait for a reply, instead he turned and dashed into the rain, heading for the station entrance with Lasser hot on his heels.
60
Hannah raised a hand as Elle walked away through the school gates before turning to Morgan by her side.
'Are you OK?' she asked.
Her daughter nodded, though her eyes were a million miles away.
'It's been good of Elle to sleep over,' Hannah said as she checked the mirrors before pulling away from the school gates.
Receiving no answer, she decided to concentrate on the driving instead, it was obvious Morgan was still worried about her dad, and the truth was Hannah felt exactly the same way. She had spent the night with sleep staying just out of reach, her mind fixed on James in the hospital bed, his head on the pillow, his face ashen, the machine beeping by his side. The truth was since it had happened, she had been in a state of shock, but now the questions were queuing up in her mind. The doctor had told her that they would be running tests though she had seen little evidence of that whilst sitting by his bedside, and now she was determined to get answers, she needed to know more as did Morgan, anything to set their mind at rest or at least prepare them for what was to come.
Reaching the junction, she checked the road was clear before pulling out and going through the gears.
'I had a dream about Dad last night,' Morgan suddenly piped up.
'I hope it was a good one,' Hannah asked, the sense of apprehension building.
'He was dead.'
Hannah closed her eyes against the words, and then she remembered that she was driving, and the car swerved as she snapped open her eyes.
'Look, Morgan, things are hard at the moment, and we're both worried, but that was just your subconscious playing tricks on you.'
'But it felt so real, there was a funeral and everything.'
'Your father will come through this, he's strong and fit, and the doctors are experts at what they do, so we need to hold onto…'
'But this has nothing to do with how strong he is, it's in his head, it's his brain that's at fault, what if it damages him in some way?'
Hannah chewed at her bottom lip, as painful as it was, Morgan could be right, and she suddenly pictured her husband unable to smile, his face blank as he sat strapped into a wheelchair, a sliver of drool hanging from his mouth, his once vibrant eyes vacant. The image was so horrific that Hannah suddenly pulled over to the kerb, the car behind giving a blast on the horn as it swept past.
For a few moments, she couldn't bring herself to look at her daughter as she tried to free herself from the terrible imagery.
'I'm sorry,' Morgan whispered.
'You have nothing to be sorry for,' Hannah replied her voice clotted with emotion. 'The truth is neither of us know what is going to happen, and how your father will be, but we take it a day at a time, that's all we can do.'
Morgan looked at her mum's profile, she could see the fear there, and as the tear slipped onto her cheek it made the fear she felt inside grow, her mother looked broken and scared and suddenly she realised that her mum was feeling things in exactly the same way. Over the past couple of years, she had treated her father almost with contempt, and the truth was she had no real idea why she had behaved that way. It had been the same with her mother, and now she felt ashamed, she had thought herself somehow better than them, as if she were the grown up and they had been the child. Now she watched the tear slide down her mother's cheek and felt horrified by her actions. She knew of some of the kids at school whose parents were useless, they were never there for them, didn't care what they got up to or who they were seeing. In fact, the year before, one girl in her class had even got pregnant, she had only been fourteen and Morgan had hardly ever spoken to her, she had been a plain-looking girl, one who seemed to have no real friends. It was only later that they had found out that she had been going out with a boy of nineteen, and he was the one she'd been having sex with. Her name had been Lucy and she had left the school when the pregnancy became obvious. Morgan could recall some of the other girls sniggering and whispering spiteful things, ''slag'' and ''slut'' had been the most common insults, and she could recall seeing Lucy crying in the toilets, alone, and she had done nothing to help her. Now the sense of shame increased she should have done or said something to try and make Lucy feel better and yet she hadn't. Even then she had been changing, Scott had smiled at her once or twice, and she had become obsessed with him, and that was when she had started to ignore Elle, that was when she had started to change. When the tears slipped from her own eyes they were tears for her mother and father and also for the girl called Lucy, she had no idea what had happened to her, she had been focused on Scott, and now he was dead, and the truly shameful thing was that she hadn't really thought about him since her father collapsed on the kitchen floor. Even now, as she pictured his face, she didn't feel a thing, she was sorry that he had been killed but he had gone to the party and taken Clara Bell with him. The truth was he had never really cared about her, she thought she had been in love with Scott, but it had never really been love, it had been the thrill of being seen with him that had initially filled her with a sense of euphoric superiority.
She thought of the moment beneath the umbrella in the schoolyard when he had forced his cigarette-infused tongue into her mouth, for a couple of seconds she had almost gagged at the stink of his breath, and then he had sauntered away into the rain.
When the car started to move again, she hardly noticed, her skin crawled as she realised how shallow, how pathetic she had acted when she had been with Scott and, for the first time, she realised that she had changed so much whilst with him. She thought of Elle, a true friend, her best friend, who had been there for her straight away as soon as she learned that her dad was ill.
More tears spilled free, for a brief time she had thought that she was the one doing the growing up whilst Elle had remained a kid, but now she knew that hadn't been the case, in fact it was the opposite. Morgan had been the one pretending to be an adult, but it had all been a shallow lie, a shameful act, and as she turned and looked out of the side window, she knew that she would never be able to make it up to Elle for the way she had behaved.
Behind the wheel, Hannah Pence tried to hold herself together, suddenly glad that her daughter had fallen silent.
61
Roger looked bemused as Bannister explained about widening the search to include missing persons, Odette sat at the table opposite, her arms folded.
'But what would be the point?' she asked. 'How would the killer be able to copy something where the body was never found?'
Lasser leaned against the windowsill, hands in pockets, his face thoughtful. 'We had to dig to get to the truth about the death of Ethel Brab, the fact that she was nailed to the fireplace wasn't in the reports, and yet somehow the killer knew, so perhaps he knows of other unsolved cases, ones where the victim was murdered but never found.'
Roger was already tapping away at the keys, his fingers going at a furious rate.
'But just because someone went missing it doesn't mean they ended up dead,' Odette said.
'It still needs checking; we need to know if anyone went missing under mysterious circumstances. We know the dates are important to the killer, so if anyone vanished around this date then they could have been a victim of the original killer,' Bannister insisted.
Roger quickly glanced at the DCI in surprise, seconds later his finger
s were flitting over the keyboard again.
'The truth is we could be waiting for the bastard to turn up at the mill and he could be working to a crime we know nothing about.'
'We have one possible here,' Roger suddenly said.
'That was quick,' Bannister leaned over Roger's shoulder to peer at the screen.
'Penny Salter, aged seventeen went missing in nineteen seventy-three,' Roger said as he scrolled down the screen.
Lasser stayed near the window as he pursed his lips. 'What about the date she vanished?'
Roger continued tapping away as Odette slid a strand of hair behind her ear.
Seconds later he raised his head. 'Twenty-seventh of January…'
'So, she disappeared on the same date that Norma Rowbottom was found at the mill,' Lasser said.
Roger looked at him over the top of the computer screen, his brow furrowed.
'That still doesn't mean she was murdered; Penny Salter could have simply run away from home and started a new life somewhere else.' Odette offered.
Bannister looked even more agitated; his cheeks inflated as he blew out a sigh.
Roger glanced at Odette, and then Bannister before looking back at the screen. 'It says here she had been working at the gas board at the time, she went missing from a bus shelter in town, apparently she was heading home after work. It says here that blood was found close to the shelter on Frog Lane, the park was searched but they found nothing. According to this newspaper clip, the search was widened but she was never found, there's a follow-up piece in the Observer four years later but nothing ever came of it.'
'Hardly sounds as if she ran away to start a new life,' Bannister said as he glanced at Odette.
'Are her parents still alive?' Odette asked.
Roger pursed his lips and shrugged. 'I have no idea, but I can find out.'
'Do it,' Odette said. 'If they are, I'll go with Spenner to see them.'
Bannister nodded. 'Good idea, Odette.'
Lasser glanced at the clock on the wall. 'We need to get over to the mill if we want to get in position.'
Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021) Page 20