'That was quick.'
'What's your name?' Bannister asked as they came to a halt.
'Bob Fielding.'
'Well, Bob, you've done a good thing here tonight,' Bannister said as the driver moved back to allow them on the bus.
Clara Bell was sitting on the back seat, her eyes wide as they approached, her hair and clothing drenched and full of mud, Bannister came to a halt with Lasser by his side.
'It's OK, Clara, we're here to help,' the DCI said, showing her his warrant card.
Lasser moved slightly to the left and sat down in one of the seats facing the back.
'He's got Morgan,' Clara suddenly said.
Bannister closed his eyes for a few seconds. 'Do you have any idea who took you or where he kept you?' he asked.
'I never saw his face, but I lost him in the woods.'
'''The woods''?'
She looked at Lasser, he could see the fear in her eyes but there was something else there as well a kind of determination that shone out at him.
Clara nodded. 'He kept me in some kind of brick building, the walls were all grey and there was a filthy mattress on the floor. He put tape over my hands and feet and then he stretched it across my mouth.
Lasser winced as he clocked her blood-smeared wrists.
'Just before he put me in the van, he came into the building with Morgan Pence over his shoulder and dropped her onto the mattress, and she was taped and gagged like me. Then he just grabbed me and threw me into the van, we weren't driving that long but while I was in the back, I used the time to free my hands.'
'That was a brave thing to do,' Bannister said with genuine admiration in his voice.
Clara shrugged. 'I knew that if I didn't then I was going to die, so when he opened the side door of the van, I pretended that my hands were still taped together.'
'Because you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with your feet still tied?' Lasser asked.
'That's right,' she paused to wipe some of the mud from her face with the palm of her hand, 'I know we went through a tunnel, because the wind changed to a howl and I couldn't feel the rain and then a few minutes later we crossed a bridge over some kind of river. I could hear the water roaring below, and then he was climbing up this steep embankment that seemed to go on for ages.'
'But how did you get free?' Bannister asked.
Clara looked down at her mud-coated hands, rubbing then together in an effort to shift the grime. 'He kept slipping in the mud, and then he dropped me from his shoulder and cut through the tape to free my legs.'
'He wanted you to walk up the bank?'
She nodded. 'He couldn't manage it while he was carrying me, and that's when I pushed him back real hard and he slipped and went rolling down towards the river, I ran up to the top of the bank and then across a couple of fields. I decided to come through the cemetery in case he was waiting at the end of the track for me, and then I saw the bus coming and flagged it down.'
For a few seconds neither Lasser nor Bannister could find the words, and then Lasser shook his head.
'There are not many people who would have kept their head in a situation like that,' he gave the girl the thumbs up.
Clara smiled wanly at the compliment, then it slipped from her face and she sighed. 'I wish I could tell you more about where he kept me, but I can't,' she suddenly sounded distressed, the tears shining in her eyes.
'Would you be able to recognise the man if you saw him again?' Bannister asked hopefully.
This time the tears slipped free as Clara shook her head again. 'When he killed Scott, I was so scared, and it was dark and raining hard. He was wearing a dark hoodie, and I didn't want to look at him because I thought he was going to shoot me just like Scott, and then I was on the back seat and I couldn't move, I was too scared.'
'And you never really saw him when he kept you at the house?' Bannister asked.
'It wasn't a house; it was a breeze-block garage.'
'But what about the man, where did he stay?'
'I think there was a house close by, he just left me there and I had no idea how long it was before he came back with a drink and a sandwich.'
'He fed you?' Lasser asked in surprise.
Clara sighed. 'I didn't want to eat any of it, but I thought if I didn't then he would get angry and kill me there and then.'
When headlights flared at the back of the bus, Lasser craned his neck as Spenner parked up and leapt from the car before heading alongside the bus, glancing in as he made his way to the open door at the front.
'Do you think you would be able to remember the path he took through the woods?' Lasser asked.
Clara's eyes widened slightly, and she chewed her lip before nodding. 'I think so, but why would you want to go in there?'
Under normal circumstances, Lasser might have tried to talk around the issue but Clara Bell had saved herself from a situation that should have ended her life, and he had no doubt that was why the killer had taken her into Borsdane Woods.
'He took you to the woods for a reason, Clara, and…'
'He took me there to kill me,' she interrupted.
Bannister cleared his throat, still astounded by her seemingly calm attitude.
Lasser nodded. 'We think that the man who took you there is a copycat.'
Bannister threw Lasser a cold look that he ignored completely.
'Do you know what a copycat is?'
Wiping at her eyes, she nodded and then swallowed. 'You think someone else had died in there don't you?'
'We think so, but we need to be sure.'
Suddenly, Clara Bell rose to her feet. 'If it will help you find Morgan then I can show you where he was taking me.'
Bannister glanced over his shoulder, Spenner was standing in the aisle, the same look of admiration on his face that Bannister knew he was still sporting.
'Spenner grab your torch, and let's get going,' he said as they turned and headed back along the bus.
'Do you promise he won't be waiting when we get there?' she stopped and looked up at Lasser.
'Believe me, Clara, if he is there, then he'll wish he wasn't.'
She looked at him closely, he had the darkest eyes she had ever seen and you had to look really close to see anything in their depths, and then she found herself nodding as she realised that she trusted the man who stood before her, and the reason was that he had the same kind of voice that had been in her head for the last few days, comforting and determined, and above it all was a voice that said I will never let you down.
Turning, Lasser walked down the bus and she followed without question.
79
The man pulled the van onto the drive and drove around the back before coming to a halt and resting his head on the steering wheel, his mind clattering with fear as he tried to fathom where it had all gone wrong. He had followed the details to the letter, and yet the bitch had escaped, she had somehow managed to out-think him, and he had been left hurtling down the mud slide rolling over and over eventually stopping three feet before the drop into the river below. He had no idea how long he lay there blinking up into the darkness, the river roaring twenty feet below, then the fear had ramped up. He had known there was no way he would be able to clamber up the hill to catch the girl. In his mind he had pictured her dashing through the fields heading for the main road, once she reached there, she would hammer on the first door she came to and the police would be called.
Rolling over, he had struggled to his feet and then the truth had slammed down on him, he'd had no idea that the little bitch had freed her hands from the restraints, she had fooled him, she had waited until he was forced to cut the tape binding her legs, and then she had attacked him.
He had stood there trying to comprehend what had happened, and then another thought had crashed into his mind, if she had been smart enough to do that then what else was she capable of? The realisation had got him moving, trying to hurry through the squelching mud, his breathing laboured as the fear continued to grow. While
he had carried her through the woods, he had thought she was mute with terror but now he knew that she hadn't been subdued, hadn't been subjugated. Her hands must have been free and yet she had kept it a secret, she had played him, and now he suspected that when she did get to help, she would be able to tell the police a lot more than he realised.
Twice he had slipped and fallen face first onto the saturated ground, scrabbling forward, his face coated with mud, desperation flooding his senses. The dash back to the van had been the stuff of nightmares, convinced by the time he made it to the tunnel, the interior would be lit by flashing blue lights and the echo of barking police dogs.
Now, he sat at the rear of the house, his head still resting on the steering wheel as he realised how close he had come to being caught. He shivered, thinking of all the books he had read as a teenager, the ones crammed with serial killers who had eventually been caught, and he realised that if he had been snatched tonight then no one would bother writing a book about him, a copycat killer who had murdered one victim before being outwitted by a teenage girl. It was pathetic and as he slowly lifted his head, he felt the shame weigh heavily on his shoulders.
Looking to the right, he fixed his gaze on the breeze-block building, Morgan Pence was in there tied and gagged, and yet he found that as much as he wanted to, he couldn't walk over there and check, he felt too uneasy, too scared.
Pushing the door open, he stepped out of the van and stood in the rain trying to fathom what he should do, then he reluctantly trudged towards the house and let himself in through the back door into a small utility room. It took him the best part of two minutes to undo the wet laces on his boots with fingers that seemed unresponsive, then he kicked them off before walking into the kitchen. The house was in darkness and he shuffled upstairs, once in the bathroom he flicked on the light and got undressed, leaving the wet clothing in a heap by the door before turning on the shower and climbing in.
He had no idea how long he stood there with the hot water pummelling his body while he tried to come to terms with the fact that he had been outsmarted by a young girl.
Lowering his head, he felt the spray needle the back of his neck, he had thought she was broken. Surely the fear of being held and the fact that the boy she was with had been shot dead would have smashed her spirit? That is exactly what he had thought as he placed her in the van, she hadn't struggled, there had been no muffled scream from behind the tape, and he had been confident that she would pose no threat as he transported her to the woods. Yet now he knew that he had made a terrible mistake, a miscalculation that could have cost him dearly. Screwing his eyes closed, he tried to keep the fear at bay, but the truth was he had no idea how much information the girl had stored away in her head, and by now she was probably in the hands of the police. The sudden sensation of being hunted made him snap the shower off and grab a towel, rubbing it against his florid face as he realised that he had no idea what she would tell them, no idea how much she knew, what else had she seen. He should have blindfolded the bitch as well as gagging and tying her, and yet he hadn't, he had been too self-assured in his own abilities, too full of his own ego to think that she could ever have tricked him and escaped.
Suddenly, he needed to get out of the steam-filled room, and he snatched the door open and stormed along the landing and into his bedroom. This time he clicked on the bedside lamp before grabbing the laptop and sitting on the bed as he logged onto the net. Heading to his Outlook account he took a deep breath when he saw the message in the inbox.
The small envelope was waiting to be opened, and under normal circumstances he would have been thrilled to read the message, though this time there was no sense of excitement, rather it was dread that slithered through his mind. His finger hovered over the envelope, even though it remained closed he knew what it would say, and he also suspected that his mentor would be alerted if he opened the email and didn't instantly reply.
He was torn with indecision, if he opened the email then he would have to reply, he would have to reveal his mistakes, then the link could be broken and he might never hear from his mentor again, and that was a terrible prospect. Yet if he left the message unopened then eventually the sender would learn the truth when the police paraded the girl in front of the cameras, and that could also lead to a cutting of the delicate ties. Snapping the laptop lid closed, he rose from the bed and hurried over to the window, his reflection imprinted on the glass as he looked out into the darkness, the fear trembling inside as he tried to think what he should do whilst at the same time trying to come to terms with his own stupidity.
80
Roger sat in the large leather chair, the laptop open on his knees as he scrolled down the screen, Odette sat opposite on the sofa, her long legs curled beneath her.
She was still trying to take in the news that Clara Bell was alive and fought the urge to grab her coat and leave the apartment to head out to the woods. But she knew that Lasser and Bannister had everything under control, so she sat and waited for one of them to provide an update.
She glanced at Roger, his face was illuminated by the screen, his features set in a look of thoughtful contemplation.
'Everything OK?' she asked.
He looked up at her and shrugged. 'I just don't get why the killer didn't take Clara Bell to the mill.'
'Come on, Rog, the truth is we were never sure whether the killer was working to the same list as us.'
Pursing his lips, he nodded in understanding. 'Perhaps I just got carried away with the research.'
'No, you came up with a viable lead that was followed and, besides, hopefully Clara will be able to offer us some other links we can chase down.'
Roger didn't answer, instead he went back to studying the information on the screen. 'I keep feeling we're missing something.
'Perhaps we are, but the main thing is that the girl survived her ordeal, and none of us expected that.'
'But what about Morgan Pence?' he asked.
Odette felt the sigh build, then she stopped herself and reached for her coffee from the table. 'If it's the same person who took them both then like I said, hopefully Clara will be able to help us catch the animal.'
Roger nodded as he eased back slightly in the chair. 'I wonder if anyone in the future will look at the work we did here and think we're all idiots for not doing more?'
'You mean in the same way we look back at people like Detective Ross?'
'Yeah, I mean, I know hindsight is a great thing, but I would hate to think that we should be doing more and that we're missing something obvious.'
'I guess history will decide that, not us,' she replied before taking a sip from the cup.
'I just don't get why he took Clara to Borsdane Woods in the middle of the night.'
Odette said nothing as she held the hot cup between her hands, the wind and rain battering the apartment window. Then suddenly an old memory came flooding into her mind as she looked across the room, the years rolling back as she pictured herself and Lasser standing and looking out at the night view. They had just solved a gruelling case and Lasser had blurted out that he had booked them a holiday to Italy. She could remember making some glib comment about them being on a gondola and Lasser singing opera badly. It seemed like a lifetime ago and yet in real terms it had only been a few short years since they had gone away together.
Stifling a yawn, she felt the tiredness sweep over her, and plumped a cushion before stretching out on the sofa.
'If I find anything do you want me to wake you?' Roger asked.
'To be honest, I expect either Lasser or Bannister to ring soon but, yeah, if you find anything then give me a nudge,' she smiled before closing her eyes.
Roger watched her for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the screen, his tired eyes narrowing as he continued to search for something they had missed.
81
Before heading into the woods, Lasser had got Jackie's waterproof jacket from the boot of the car and handed it to Clara. Now they w
alked along the cinder path, the rain still hammering down, the weight bending the branches of the trees, the sound of the drops hitting the ground around them was a constant companion.
Spenner and Bannister were sweeping their lights back and forth, the high-powered beams chasing the shadows away, Lasser walked by Clara's side and when she stopped, he did the same.
'There,' she said pointing to the right.
Spenner shone the torch, they saw the line where the grass had been trampled and without a word, they headed off the cinder path, their booted feet swishing through the grass, following the trail.
As they moved forward, the sound of dashing water grew louder, tall ferns appeared and they barged their way through them, the torchlight illuminating the swollen river that bent to their right roaring over rocks before vanishing into the darkness.
'There's the bridge,' Spenner said as he raised the torch, illuminating the metal structure that spanned the dark water beneath.
Making their way over, they climbed four concrete steps that brought them level with the wooden platform spanning the water. They crossed in single file, Bannister leading with Spenner behind then Clara, Lasser bringing up the rear.
Once clear of the bridge they all drew closer together.
'Can you remember which way it is, Clara?' Bannister asked.
'We went left for a short distance and then started to climb to the right.'
Bannister smiled at her and nodded and then they were heading left, the river still barrelling through the darkness, the ground beneath their feet becoming more unstable, the mud slowing them down as it sucked at their booted feet.
'I think this is the place,' Clara suddenly stopped and looked to her right, Bannister and Spenner trained their lights up the steep embankment that seemed to stretch on forever, water pouring down the incline bringing clumps of dark earth with it.
Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021) Page 26