Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021)

by Robin Roughley

  Bannister slid the zip up on his jacket. 'Jesus, why does this feel like a complete cock-up?' he asked to no one in particular.

  'At the moment, it's all we have to go on,' Lasser replied, and held Bannister's hard stare.

  'I just pray that we're in the right place.'

  'Well, we know how, when and where Norma died, so if the killer is working to the same list then he should turn up at the mill in under four hours' time.'

  Bannister said nothing for a moment and then he gave a brisk nod. 'Right, Lasser, let's get moving.'

  'As soon as we find anything then I'll let you know.'

  'Thanks, Odette,' Bannister said as they headed for the door.

  As they left the room, Roger didn't look up, just kept searching the records, his face set with concentration.

  62

  Hannah felt the surprise register on her face as she saw Robert sitting by the side of the bed.

  'What's he doing here?' Morgan whispered.

  They were standing outside the small side room, the heat in the hospital already felt cloying as Hannah unfastened her jacket.

  'Come on, Morgan, Robert is your dad's business partner, it's nice that he's here, so no throwing him any dark looks,' she warned before opening the door.

  Robert Flack turned and gave a slight smile before standing up.

  'I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to come and see how he was doing.'

  The door closed silently as Morgan shrugged out of her jacket.

  'It's good of you to come, Robert, I know James would appreciate it,' Hannah said as she looked at her husband, his face was still deathly pale against the stark white pillow, the machine by his side beeping like a metronome.

  'Have you spoken to the doctor yet?' he asked.

  'Not today,' Hannah paused, 'but I intend to.'

  Robert nodded in understanding. 'Is there anything I can do while I'm here?'

  Morgan moved around to the other side of the bed, ignoring Robert completely as she sat down.

  'We have everything we need, but thanks for the offer,' Hannah said with a fragile smile.

  'OK, I'll get out of your way, but, like I said, if you need anything then just give me a ring.'

  'I will, I promise.'

  'Right, please let me know if there's any change.'

  Hannah nodded as he headed for the door, Morgan watching him leave with a black look in her eyes.

  Hannah moved to the side of the bed and bent down before kissing James's cheek.

  'Right, I'm going to go and find the doctor, are you OK until I get back?'

  Morgan nodded and dragged up a worn-out smile. 'I'm fine, Mum, you go and sort it.'

  'Don't worry, sweetheart, I intend to,' her mother said as she crossed the room and left.

  Once more the door closed silently and Morgan looked at her father, willing him to open his eyes and look at her. 'I love you, Dad,' she whispered as the tears sparkled in her eyes.

  63

  'How do you want to do this?' Lasser asked as he turned onto Swan Meadow Lane, the road narrowing slightly.

  They could see the bulk of the old mill standing tall against the tinfoil sky, the rain coming down hard again, forcing Lasser to flick up the speed of the wipers.

  'Turn right at the shop, we'll leave the car there and approach on foot.'

  Checking the mirrors, Lasser drove past the convenience store before spinning the wheel, when the squad car came into view, the DCI straightened in his seat as he clocked Steven Black behind the wheel, the pie halfway to his mouth.

  'Remember what I said about watching to make sure I don't flip?' Bannister growled as Lasser drew up alongside the car.

  'You're not the only one who wants to shove that pie into his fat face,' Lasser replied as he snatched the handbrake up.

  Black looked at them through the side window, his gaze packed with hatred and uncertainty.

  Climbing out they moved to the side door; Black slid the window down, the pie now steaming away on the dashboard.

  'What are you doing here apart from feeding your face?' Lasser demanded.

  'I'm here for the stakeout,' Black mumbled a reply.

  Bannister looked around the car park before turning back to glare at the man behind the wheel. 'Well, at least we know who ate all the steak pies.'

  Black ignored the comment before facing forward, both hands now resting on the wheel. 'I'm doing what Chief Henson told me to, I've arrived early, and I was just going to drive to the mill.'

  Leaning down, Bannister placed his hands on the door and peered in, Black continued to stare to the front, his face slowly changing from doughy white to a deep shade of red.

  'You had a run-in with DI Noble and Doc Shannon the other night, is that correct?'

  'I've been told not to say anything about what went on.'

  'You went over Chief Henson's head, after all?'

  'Like I said, I'm here to do my job, but I refuse to discuss anything else.'

  Lasser felt like thrusting Bannister out of the way and planting his fist into the side of Black's face, wanting to hear bones crunch, wanting to see him fall sideways across the seats, lights out.

  'That's fine, Steven, I want you to leave the car here and come with us,' Bannister said in clipped tones.

  Glancing at him, Lasser could see the fury in the DCI's eyes as he stepped back and opened the door.

  'I take it you have a waterproof jacket in the boot?' Bannister asked.

  'No,' Black snapped as he stepped out of the car and grimaced at the falling rain.

  Pulling the hood of his coat over his head, Bannister smiled. 'That's a shame, it could be a long night, and I would hate you to catch your death.'

  Black glanced at him; his eyes widened as he heard the perceived threat in the words.

  Before he could reply, both Lasser and Bannister were striding towards the road, and he glared at their backs before traipsing after them.

  'What the hell was Carole thinking, putting that wanker on a stakeout?' Bannister grumbled, making no attempt to keep his voice low.

  'What would you sooner have him do? He can't be trusted to do anything else, if you have him going through the files, he could miss something important, so he's better out here in the pissing wind and rain.'

  Bannister gave a reluctant grunt of agreement as they turned right and started to walk towards the mill, the rain blowing directly into their faces forcing Lasser to flick his own hood up. Glancing over his shoulder he felt a small sense of satisfaction, Black had one arm held up in front of his face in an effort to block the foul weather.

  'Well, at least he won't be falling asleep in the car,' Bannister said as a van went past, the tyres hissing through the rain.

  The tall, red brick wall appeared to their left, acting as the boundary to the giant mill that gradually came into view.

  After fifty feet they came to a gap in the wall, no doubt at one time there would have been large metal gates attached to the brick pillars, but they had long since vanished, probably nicked in the dead of night and sold as scrap, Lasser thought as they moved left through the gap.

  The mill was five stories high, the front of the building had numerous small windows, in most cases the glass had long since been smashed, though one or two had been boarded up, the plywood sheets were warped and rotting with age.

  'Dark satanic mill,' Bannister said with a sigh before turning as Black came through the gap and reluctantly moved towards them. 'Right, Steven, you need to find somewhere to keep an eye on the front of the building.'

  'But there is nowhere,' Black complained as he wiped the rain from his plate-like face.

  'There are plenty of bushes over there,' Lasser said with a casual wave to the bank of bushes that grew alongside the eight-foot wall.

  'Let me guess, you two will be inside the building?' Black complained, through paper-thin lips.

  Bannister stepped closer to the poisonous PC. 'I can stand guard out here and you can go inside with Sergeant Lass
er, it's up to you.'

  Black glanced at Lasser and swallowed when he saw the dark eyes fixed on him.

  'No, it's OK, I'll stay out here.'

  'Are you sure?' Bannister asked. 'I mean, I don't want you running off crying that we forced you to stand out in the rain.'

  For a couple of seconds, they both saw the loathing in Black's eyes, and then he shook his head. 'No, I'll stay out here.'

  'Fine, but make sure you stay in those bushes, don't forget we will be in there keeping an eye on things, and if I see you then so will the killer if he turns up, and I will not be happy – is that clear enough for you?'

  'I know how to do my job,' Black fired back.

  Bannister tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. 'Don't make me laugh, you might ''know'' about the job, but you are too lazy and self-centred to actually do it.'

  Black fumed as he watched the two of them stride towards the building, he turned and looked at the bushes, his face twisted into a snarl of hatred as he walked over and thrust his way into the undergrowth, the rain from the leaves showering down on him.

  'Fucking bastards,' he snarled as he vanished from sight.

  64

  Clara opened her eyes and groaned in pain, she had no idea how it had happened, but she had fallen asleep, her dreams had been full of terror, and now as she blinked into the pitiful light, she remembered that the horror was real.

  The pain in her arms was a constant throbbing reminder of the position she was in, she had lost all track of time which only served to make her torment more acute, the small voice of defiance that had been there earlier seemed to have deserted her, and now all she had was the fear eating its way into her fragile resolve.

  She tried to cling on to some sense of normality, tried to picture her mother, but suddenly she could hardly remember what she looked like, couldn't even remember the last time she had seen or spoken to her. The wave of insanity squirreled deeper into her brain and she started to shake, the tears slipping from her eyes as the truth of her terror was revealed.

  Behind the tape, she tried to scream but even that was denied to her and her nostrils flared as she tried to draw air into her punished lungs. None of this was fair, she didn't deserve it, and yet here she was, tied and helpless at the mercy of a madman who had already showed her his ability to kill when Scott had been flung backwards, the blood splashing from the remains of his head. There would be no escape, the police might be looking for her, but they would never find her, and once again the thought that she could be buried in the dark wet earth to lay undiscovered for years increased the shake in her body.

  Just as her terror reached its peak, the voice inside was back, but this time it said no words, just made small cooing noises of comfort in much the same way a parent will rock their child in their arms in an effort to console them from a fall or a fever.

  Gradually, she felt the trembling lessen, and as her body calmed down so did her mind, the soothing noises continued, and suddenly it was just as it had been when she had been a child. Her parents had split up when she was four and ever since then it had just been her and her mother at home, and for a couple of years after her father had left, she had slept in her mum's bed. Now, as she lay on the grotty single mattress in the concrete building, tied and gagged, she was transported back to being snuggled into her mum, the duvet pulled tight around them, cocooned together. Her mother's arm draped around her pulling her close, she closed her eyes and pictured the bedroom, the small night light on, the air tinted with the scent of her mother's perfume. She felt safe and secure, nothing could ever harm her, that was how she had felt as she drifted off to sleep. Now, she did the same, the warm memories welcomed her into their embrace as Clara Bell drifted back off to sleep, away from the horror and fear and into her mother's imagined embrace.

  65

  Spenner was driving, Odette in the passenger seat, the wipers on full as they battled across town to see the mother of Penny Salter, the girl who had gone missing on this day in nineteen seventy-three.

  Roger had managed to find the address and even the phone number, and Odette had called Joan Salter to ask if they could come to see her about her daughter.

  By the time she came off the phone, the woman had been crying, and Odette's heart had gone out to her, hearing the upset that was still evident and raw even after almost half a century.

  Reaching down, she flicked on the siren and flashing lights, Spenner glanced at her and she nodded.

  'We need to get there ASAP.'

  Checking the mirrors Spenner got his foot down, the cars in front moving over to the left as they sped past.

  'What do you make of all this, do you think it could be one man responsible for the initial murders?' Spenner asked as he took up position in the centre of the road.

  Odette kept her eyes on the view ahead as their speed increased. 'To be honest I'm not sure, but the more we learn the more I think that Lasser could well be right.'

  'Which is bad enough, but now we have someone copying what the animal did the first time around.'

  Odette held the sigh at bay, Spenner was right, but they needed to concentrate on the here and now, Clara Bell had been taken, and although they couldn't prove it was the same man who had killed Julie Rawlins it somehow all felt linked, the murders from the past and the copycat killer.

  She just prayed that Clara didn't have to die to prove the link.

  'I know the killings took place over a thirty-year period but looking at the evidence it all seems so flimsy, it's almost as if back then they didn't treat murder seriously,' Spenner said, his hands closing tighter on the wheel.

  'A lot has changed since nineteen seventy, John, in fact, a lot has changed in the past few years. I mean, back when Ethel was murdered, there were officers riding around town on their pushbikes, it's not like it is today where we are all mobile and all connected.'

  'I get that it must have been hard back then, but you would have thought the principal was still the same when it came to gathering evidence, and yet even Roger has only been able to find the bare minimum of information, and everyone knows how good he is at digging in the dirt.'

  'I know, but the last killing took place twenty-one years ago, and even back then when Sharon Bliss was murdered the technology wasn't like we have now.'

  'I guess so,' Spenner replied as he slowed down for the roundabout.

  'Go straight over and take the second left,' she said.

  Quickly checking to the right, he drove across and then killed the siren and lights before indicating and turning onto a side street made up of semi-detached houses, all had neat gardens, some with two cars parked on the drive.

  Pulling up at number nine, they climbed out and headed along a drive that contained no car even though there was a garage, the front lawn was clipped short, the garden saturated.

  Pressing the doorbell, they both heard the Avon calling sound and they waited for thirty seconds before the door opened and an elderly lady who looked to be in her seventies looked out at them, her pale blue eyes wet with tears as she dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief.

  'Mrs Salter, we spoke on the phone and …'

  'Oh, come in, you don't need to stand there getting wet through,' Joan Salter said as she stepped back to let them in.

  Once in the hallway, she closed the door and glanced at Spenner before turning to Odette.

  'You want to know about my Penny?' she asked.

  'I know this must be difficult, Mrs…'

  'Please call me Joan, now would either of you like a cup of tea or perhaps coffee?'

  For the briefest of moments, Odette almost refused and then saw the look of desperation in the woman's eyes and she nodded.

  'That would be lovely, we both take coffee, two sugars, please.'

  Joan wiped at her eyes again as she nodded before heading down the hallway and into a neat and tidy kitchen, a small posy of flowers on the table.

  'Please sit yourselves down,' she made her way over to the sink to fill th
e kettle before setting it to boil, then she turned and sat down facing them both.

  'I'm sorry for getting upset on the phone but it's been so long since anyone has asked about my Penny, it came as something of a shock.'

  Odette eased forward slightly. 'Like I said, I understand how difficult this is for you, but we really need to hear what happened on the day Penny vanished?'

  Joan Salter looked across the table at Odette, her pale tear-filled eyes suddenly hardening. 'She didn't vanish, she was murdered, both me and my husband always knew that, but the police would never say for sure what had happened, and after a while they just seemed to lose interest. We tried to push them, tried to get them to keep looking but it was hopeless, and the more time passed the more they simply refused to listen to us. It was almost as if we'd become nothing more than a nuisance, but what would you have done if your child had been murdered and you couldn't get anyone to see it for what it was?'

  Spenner shifted slightly in his seat. 'Penny was on her way home from work, wasn't she?' he asked.

  Joan looked at him and quickly wiped at her eyes again before nodding. 'She worked for the gas board – in the offices – she'd not been there long, and she loved it. We knew what time she got home but when she didn't arrive, we went out to look for her.'

  'Did you go to her place of work?'

  'Yes, we went straight there, we knew the bus stop was just around the corner, the offices were closed, everyone had gone home so we walked to the bus stop, and that's when we saw blood on the pavement.'

  'Was the bloodstain actually at the shelter?' Odette asked.

  Joan shook her head and sighed. 'It was about twenty feet away.'

  'But what made you think it belonged to your daughter?' Odette kept her tone soft and gentle.

  'We knew that was the stop she always used, it was the closest one to work so she wouldn't have used another. Back then there were no mobile phones like there are today, so we went straight to the police station and told the desk sergeant, but to be honest he didn't seem to take us seriously, he said we needed to go back home, and he was sure she would turn up.'