'Come on, come on,' he suddenly gasped.
At that precise moment, Clara felt her hands slip from the tape, she locked fingers keeping the palms together, knowing that now wasn't the time to make a break from her captor.
'He's growing tired and weak, so we wait.'
Clara nodded in reply as the man who was carrying her stooped forward and shrugged her from his shoulder, and she hit the ground with a wet splat.
For a few seconds, she lay on her back, her hands still locked behind her, then she cracked open her eyes, just as the man loomed over her, his face hidden in shadows though she could feel his hot breath on her face as he tried to haul air into his lungs.
Then he reached down, and she saw the blade in his right hand and for a couple of terrifying seconds she was convinced she was going to die, cold steel plunging into her flesh, her life ending here in the filthy darkness, then she felt the tape around her ankles loosen as it was cut away.
'Get up,' he demanded, his voice coming out as a gasp.
Clara didn't move, the voice told her to stay exactly where she was.
'I said ''get up''!' his voice rose in anger, but she could hear exhaustion in the words.
When she remained in the mud with the rain falling onto her upturned face, he reached down and snatched her to her feet.
'NOW!' the voice inside suddenly roared.
Carla lunged forward, her muscles screaming as her hands sprang free, she planted them on his chest and thrust him back as hard as she could, ignoring the pain, his hands scrabbled at her lacy top, but she drove him back again, his arms now thrashing at the wet air, his feet slipping in the mud, then he fell backwards and hit the saturated ground. Immediately, he went into a roll down the steep incline, his bellow of anger blasting out into the darkness.
'RUN!'
Turning, she did as the voice demanded, her hands scrabbling at the wet ground, every bone and muscle in her body throbbed as she scuttled up the side of the valley, the mud clinging to her feet trying to anchor her to the ground, and yet she powered forward, occasionally her hands would grasp a tree root and she would haul herself further up the incline.
When the voice came again, her eyes sprang wide in disbelief.
'Get rid of the tape!'
Clara Bell stopped for a moment and lifted her hand to snatch the tape free from her mouth before taking a gulp of the wet night air. How could she not have realised that the tape had still been stretched across her mouth? Taking another gasp at the air she realised it didn't matter, she was free and now at last, she could actually breathe.
Her lungs filled with life giving air and then she was rushing forward again, this time she moved with the agility of youth, dashing upwards almost on all fours, ignoring the pull of the mud and the raging wind and rain as she sped forward.
'KILL YOU! The voice screamed, though to Clara it sounded far away, and she suddenly realised that the man would never have the speed or energy to catch her.
Then the ground levelled out and she raced over the lip of the incline and into an open field, without even breaking stride she sprinted out into the open, dashing away from the woodland, surefooted, tears streaming from her eyes as she ran mingling with the driving rain that lashed into her face, although she would never know it, she was following the same path as the fox that had dashed through the tall grass after finding the dislodged bones in the wet mud.
In her suddenly euphoric brain, the voice urged her on, pushing her every step of the way, even when she lost her balance and fell headlong onto the saturated ground, she immediately leapt to her feet and was off again, unstoppable, determined to make good her escape no matter what the cost.
76
Pulling onto the car park of the apartment block, Lasser parked up and lifted the handbrake as Odette unclipped her seat belt before leaning forward between the seats.
'I'll see you both in the morning,' she said in a drained voice, pushing the door open and stepping out.
Sliding the window down, Lasser stuck his head through the gap. 'If anything turns up then we'll give you a ring.'
Odette nodded and turned, heading for the entrance, Lasser waited until she had entered the building and then he glanced up, he could see the light on in Odette's flat and then he caught a brief glimpse of Roger looking down but then he quickly vanished.
'What an absolute fucking mess,' Bannister said.
The window slid back to the top as the DCI pulled out the pack of cigarettes and lit two, while Lasser backed out of the parking space and took the cigarette before heading back to the road and turning right.
'It has to be the same bastard who took Clara, and now they've targeted Morgan Pence.'
'Yes, but why?' Bannister demanded, his voice tight with emotion. 'I mean, we still have no idea if any of this is tied up with the copycat killer, they could be completely separate crimes.'
'Jackie sent a text earlier, asking you to stay at the boat tonight,' Lasser suddenly remembered.
Taking a pull on the cigarette, Bannister watched the drab, wet streets flash by through the side window. 'Did you reply?'
'I said I would ask you but there were no guarantees.'
'Well, it would make sense to stay at the boat tonight I suppose, and it would save you having to drop me back at the station to get my car.'
'Plus, we can move quickly in case anything comes up,' Lasser said as they drove under the railway bridge.
Bannister grunted a reply, and Lasser kept quiet.
'We know the two girls went to the same school, they even went out with the same boy, so it has to be someone who knew plenty about them,' the DCI pondered.
'Teacher?' Lasser asked.
Smoke was sucked out of the window as Bannister slid it down, the rain and wind blowing in through the gap. 'Needs checking,' he paused, 'do you still think the same guy is responsible for all of this?'
Flicking the wipers onto a faster speed, Lasser thought before answering. 'Yeah, I do.'
'If that's the case, then why didn't the fucker turn up at the mill with Clara Bell?'
The streetlights flashed by as Lasser drove past the hospital, the bushes at the side of the road swaying back and forth in the wind. 'We have to consider the possibility that Penny Salter was the second victim not Norma Rowbottom.'
Bannister rubbed at his eyes in anger. 'We know Rowbottom died on the twenty-seventh on the roof of the mill.'
'There is another possibility.'
'And what's that?' Bannister asked.
'The killer could have struck twice on the same day, Norma died on the twenty-seventh and Penny Salter vanished on the same date, both in nineteen seventy-three, but what if Penny Salter was the first to die?'
'But how could the copycat killer be sure that Penny Salter was murdered?'
Lasser could feel the frustration grow inside as he sighed. 'I have no idea, but if that is the case then Clara Bell could already be dead,' he turned left, the road started to snake downhill, then at the bottom he turned right at the roundabout and started to climb Red Rock hill. By the time they parked up at the side of the towpath they had both finished their cigarettes, their faces thoughtful as they climbed out into the wind and rain, both feeling the pressure as they headed for the boat.
77
Reaching the waterlogged track, Clara angled right and sprinted through the darkness, her feet splashing through the puddles, her feet and clothing were drenched, her hair no longer blew in the wind but hung plastered to her head and still the voice urged her on.
'Keep going!'
In the distance, she could see the roadside lights flickering behind the curtain of rain and darkness.
When her right foot went into a divot, she bit down on the scream, going full length to the ground, and sliding forward in the mud, dirty water sprayed into her face, this time she didn't wait for the voice to drive her on, she leapt back to her feet and set off running again though the pain in her right foot slowed her down.
Ten minutes later, she had slo
wed to a quick walk, then she came to a stop and looked back over her shoulder into the darkness. After she had made her escape, the man had shouted after her, but had then fallen silent, and now an image slipped into her mind. He hadn't chased her which meant he must have gone back to the van, but that also meant that if he knew the area then he could have guessed where the path she was taking led. Suddenly, she became convinced that her attacker was waiting at the end of the lane, parked in the shadows, knowing that she would appear, and then he would snatch her again. Only this time he wouldn't be satisfied with putting tape around her hands and legs, this time he would grab her and kill her.
Standing in the darkness, the fear forced its way back into her mind.
'Then go another way,' the voice suddenly hissed.
Clara nodded before looking left and right, when she saw the boundary wall, she headed towards it, her legs swishing through the tall, wet grass.
Reaching the wall, she stood on her tiptoes to peer over the top, her eyes widening when she saw the rows of gravestones in the darkness.
The fear in her mind increased and she shook her head from side to side. 'I can't,' she whispered.
'The dead can't hurt you,' the voice insisted.
Taking a huge gulp of air, her cheeks ballooned, and she let it out slowly in an effort to calm her nerves.
'You can do this,' the voice insisted.
Leaping upward, she scrambled over the wall, hesitating for a moment before dropping to the other side, then she crouched down with her back against the rough stone, her eyes blinking to keep the rain away. Rising from a crouch she hurried through the gravestones, keeping her gaze locked in front, her pace quickening. She saw the occasional splash of colour in the darkness from the flowers left in the urns, some of the gravestones shone in the darkness – made of white marble they looked like a slab of light cut into the dark night. When she reached the stone steps, she paused to catch her breath before making her way down to the lower level. Here the stones appeared older, some twisted and leaning and the sight of them seemed to make the fear morph into a deep-rooted terror, and then she was running, unable to control the base emotions that flooded through her mind and body, images of the long dead clawing their way through the wet earth. When she came to the cinder path she turned left and sprinted towards the cemetery gates.
When she saw them standing open, she came to a halt, unsure what to do, terror at her back, but being amongst the graves was not as bad as being locked in the back of the van or being hoisted over the man's shoulder. It wasn't as bad as the fear had been as he dropped her to the rain-sodden ground.
For the briefest of moments, she contemplated staying hidden here amongst the dead until morning came and then she thought of Morgan Pence. She was still in the brick building, taped and gagged, and Clara knew that the man who had taken her could be on his way back to that place right now, then the fury he felt after she had escaped could be taken out on Morgan.
Clara groaned in the darkness as she realised that staying hidden wasn't an option. Although she had never spoken a word to Morgan, she knew that this went beyond anything petty, this was about life and death, she knew that if anything happened to Morgan and she had stayed hidden till daylight, she would never be able to forgive herself.
Inching forward, she moved through the gates and onto the pavement, whipping her head right and left she made her hands into fists, and then started to run to the right, her body once more flooded with adrenalin.
When she saw the headlight in the distance, she felt her stride stumble slightly, then gasped in relief as the double-decker bus appeared through the rain, without hesitation she veered into the road and started to wave her arms in the air, her chest rising and falling, her eyes wide in panic.
When the bus came to a stop, she tensed ready to run at the slightest threat.
She heard the hiss of the door opening and then the driver stepped out into the rain.
'Are you OK, love?' he walked slowly towards her, and Clara stepped back ready to bolt, but then the man was smiling at her, he was big, his stomach was hanging over the top of his trousers, and she knew it wasn't the man who had killed Scott before snatching her from the side of the road.
'Please, you have to help me, you have to call the police!' she urged.
'The police?' the driver asked in surprise.
'If you don't then he's going to kill her.'
When she saw the screen of the bus driver's phone flash in the darkness, Clara Bell started to cry.
78
Lasser was in the process of taking a drink from his cup of hot chocolate when his phone rang, Bannister looked at him, a hint of dread in his eyes, watching Lasser fish it from his pocket.
'It's Spenner,' he said before tapping the loudspeaker. 'What have you got for us, John?'
'Clara Bell is alive!'
Bannister nearly spilled his drink at the news and then he was on his feet.
'Are you sure?' Lasser found himself asking.
'She was picked up by a local bus driver outside Hindley cemetery, I'm on my way over there now.'
'She caught the bloody bus?' Bannister asked.
'Oh, evening, boss, I didn't know you were there as well.'
'I'm always here, Spenner, always watching and waiting.'
'Er, right, yeah, yeah,' Spenner replied with more than a little uncertainty in his voice.
'What else do you know?' Lasser asked.
'That's about it, he was heading back to the station and he said the girl leapt out in front of the bus and asked him to ring the police.'
Reaching out, Lasser grabbed the car keys from the coffee table. 'We can be at the cemetery in fifteen, so if you get there before us then keep her there and keep her safe.'
'Will do,' Spenner replied.
Ending the call, Lasser looked up as Jackie appeared wrapped in a bathrobe.
'Don't tell me you two are heading out again?' she asked with eyebrow raised.
'Clara Bell has been found, she's alive and, as far as we know, uninjured.'
Jackie looked amazed at the news and then she nodded. 'OK, then you'd better get going.'
Hurrying over Lasser gave her a quick kiss and then she watched as they all but dashed along the boat before vanishing back into the darkness.
By the time they climbed into the car, Bannister had his phone out and was calling Odette as Lasser headed over the bridge flicking on the flashing lights, going quickly through the gears, concentrating on the grim conditions as Bannister told Odette the unexpected news.
Seconds later, the DCI ended the call and faced the front. 'I can't believe she's alive,' he said, his voice heavy with surprise and relief.
'Yeah, I know,' Lasser agreed. 'I wasn't expecting that.'
'The question is where has she been kept and what the hell was she doing at the cemetery?'
'Hopefully, we'll know soon enough, and she'll be able to help us find out what's going on.'
'Get your foot down,' Bannister suddenly demanded.
Lasser did just that, the car bulleting around the corners at speed, flicking on the main beam he slowed for a tight, right-hand bend, the engine roaring as he hit the gas again.
They fell silent and Lasser blocked his mind and concentrated on the driving, the road slick with rain, occasionally he was forced to slow down as they drove through deep puddles of standing water, the car lurching forward until they broke free of the deluge.
The wipers were on full blast in an effort to keep the screen clear of water, then the road dipped and, at the last second, the lights picked up the flooded surface, Lasser hit the brakes, the car sliding forward before coming to a stop.
'What do you think?' he asked.
Bannister leaned forward and sighed. 'If we were in the Range Rover then it wouldn't be an issue.'
'But if we go back it'll take us half an hour to get to the girl, and we can't mess about with that, we need to get there.'
Bannister shot him a sharp look and then no
dded. 'OK, go for it but if we get stuck halfway across then you are the one who will be getting out to push,' he warned.
Lasser grunted a reply, yanked out his cigarettes and lit one before tossing the pack to Bannister, moving the Audi forward they felt the weight of the water buffeting the car.
'Easy does it,' the DCI warned through gritted teeth.
They were halfway across when Lasser hit the gas, riding the clutch as the car lunged forward sending twin plumes of water sloshing towards the side of the road, the engine turned from a whine to a screech, then they burst free and Bannister heaved a sigh of relief.
'You were bloody lucky there.'
'Skill not luck,' Lasser replied straight-faced.
'Says the man who has smashed up more police vehicles than anyone else.'
'Every one of those was just bad luck.'
'Bollocks, it was idiot driving, you have no real idea how to alter your driving to suit the conditions.'
Lasser grabbed another gear and ignored Bannister's grumbling complaint.
'I mean, look at you, you've just driven through a flood and yet you haven't bothered to check your brakes.'
'A proper driver doesn't need to rely on his brakes,' Lasser replied.
Folding his arms, Bannister's face turned sour. 'I know you're just saying this shit to piss me off, but it won't work, we both know you are a lucky bastard, but sooner or later your luck will run out and then what will you do?'
'I don't have to worry about stuff like that because you and Odette always have my back.'
'And there speaks a deluded man,' Bannister fired back.
The road straightened out, and the car hit seventy, the wind coming in hard from the left.
At the roundabout, Lasser hit the brakes and the car slowed down as he turned right before increasing his speed again. 'See, like I said, the brakes are fine.'
'Jammie bugger,' Bannister spat.
Ten minutes later, they reached the top of Castle Hill, the cemetery to their left, the bus parked in front of the open gates, the interior lit with bright light.
Clambering from the car, they made their way to the front; the driver was standing at the open door smoking a cigarette, he flicked it out into the rain as he saw them approach.
Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021) Page 25