No matter how he tried to disprove his own theory he couldn't do it, couldn't see any other way that the killer would have known about the remains in the wood.
Unless the bones hadn't been in the ground for as long as they had suspected?
The thought brought a frown to his face, the truth was he had no real idea how long it would take for the remains to become nothing but white bone, perhaps it happened faster than he thought and if that were the case then maybe the animal who had taken Clara could have been the one who killed the victim and buried the bones?'
Pursing his lips, he thought it through and then shook his head, even if that was the case why would he return to the same place to kill Clara, it would make no sense to do that, and besides, they already knew that he had copied the murder of Ethel Brab in nineteen seventy.
Suddenly he pictured two faceless silhouettes, one bent with age, the other standing tall and straight, two sick killers, one revelling in the memories and the fact that he had found someone who shared the same love of killing.
Lasser's eyes narrowed at the idea, the truth was that if the original officers had done their jobs properly then the killer would have been caught and locked up. As it was, it now looked as if he had carried on with his life, free and untouched, never paying for his abhorrent crimes. That was bad enough, though now there was someone else eagerly following in his footsteps and they must be in touch it was the only thing that made any sense.
Somewhere in his mind he heard the chesty rattle of a laugh as he pictured the old killer loving the fact that now he had someone copying his original crimes, the two of them revelling in the heinous act of murder.
Like Bannister had said, it sounded far-fetched, and yet the more Lasser turned things over in his mind the more convinced he became that he was right. Long ago, he had learned that where murder was concerned there was no normal. They all worked to their own form of twisted logic; the trouble was that logic was incomprehensible to a normal person.
Seconds later, Bannister reappeared, his damp hair sticking up, dressed in sweatpants and a hooded black top.
'By Christ, I needed that,' he said as the steam drifted out through the open window.
Rising, Lasser ran the cigarette under the cold water tap before dropping the stump into the bin.
'You might as well get your breakfast, it's no use waiting for me,' Lasser said.
Rubbing his hands together, Bannister opened the oven door. 'I had no intention of waiting for you,' he grabbed the tea towel and lifted the plate out.
'Charming,' Lasser said heading for the bathroom.
Lifting the tinfoil from the plate, Bannister lifted it to his nose and took an appreciative sniff.
'Belting,' he said as he went in search of the brown sauce.
84
The man chewed his bottom lip the fear growing inside as he saw that he now had two messages in his inbox, the one from the day before and a new one that had been sent at five o'clock that morning.
He had fallen asleep sprawled on the bed, his mind in turmoil at the way things had gone so badly wrong.
At one point he had wanted to head out to the garage and kill the girl, though he had known that he wouldn't do that, not unless he had direct orders from his mentor.
Now, he felt trapped in a terrifying limbo, on the one hand he dreaded opening the emails and on the other he knew he would have to otherwise he would be incapable of moving forward.
Taking a deep breath, he tapped the first one open and started to read.
'It was raining in seventy-three, I remember it well, I had to carry the girl some of the way but in the end the ground was too steep, so I made her walk. She cried a lot and kept asking me where we were going and why I had taken her. Before she died, she begged to see her mother and father, she begged for me to let her go, she promised she wouldn't tell anyone, but we both know that is all lies. Never fall for a female when she promises you something no matter what it is. I strangled the girl and then dug a small shallow grave with my bare hands, I expect you to do the same. She is buried around ten to fifteen feet from the top of the valley close to an old oak, you can see the tree roots sticking out through the ground, so kill her there, you choose the spot as I don't expect you to go digging for old bones. As soon as the job is done, and you are safely back home then email me and I want DETAILS!'
The man swallowed when he saw the word standing tall in capitals and underlined.
Inside the fear grew, he had ''details'' though they would not be the kind his mentor wanted to hear, now he looked at the second email and trembled at what it may contain. He had failed, it was as simple as that, the man had given him all the details of the killing, a road map to getting away with murder, and yet he had been unable to follow those instructions.
His finger hovered over the small envelope and then he tapped it open, his heart racing, his brow coated with beads of sweat, and as he read the words the fear and sense of shame intensified.
'I gave you the chance to gain immortality and now it seems my trust has been misplaced. I thought you were made of the right stuff, there was so much I wanted to tell you, so many secrets I wanted to share, but not now. They will hunt you down, they will make the links and eventually they will come to your door and what will you tell them? The truth is you will tell them everything you know because men like you always buckle, because you are weak and pathetic. You once told me about the people you admired, you read about them all and the only reason you were able to do that is the fact that they had all been caught. Yet still you worshiped them, these pathetic specimens who thought greatness awaited them, yet now they are all dead, but I am still alive, my life has been long and not once did they ever come close to catching me. I offered you the same thing, and here we are, one murder under your belt, and soon your killing days will be over, you will be locked up for the rest of your days and I will be sitting here free as a bird. You are a disgrace, you worm of a man.'
He looked at the words through a shimmer of tears as he realised that every word was true, he had been offered greatness and yet he had been duped by the little bitch, she should have been just another piece of meat to complete the tableau from a previous time, a previous murder, and now here he sat, the victim. Wiping at his eyes, he felt the emotion clog his throat, he felt abandoned and totally alone, then he looked back at the open message before tapping at the reply icon.
It couldn't end like this, he had to make his mentor realise that although he had made a mistake it would never happen again, he would have to prove that his trust hadn't been misplaced, and he had to do it right now.
Taking a deep breath, he wiped at his eyes again and began to type, trying to banish the fear, trying to convince himself that he would get another chance, and this time he would make sure there were no mistakes.
'Please, please, please,' he muttered the words as he feverishly tapped at the keys.
85
Carole sat behind her desk listening to the man opposite, and for once she didn't feel the usual sense of angst.
Lucien Creet looked to be in his mid-thirties, brown hair cut short, small circular John Lennon-type glasses magnified his brown eyes, his suit looked immaculate, tie done just so.
'I just wanted you to know that I don't have any preconceived ideas about the accusations,' he paused, 'believe me I'm fully aware that whenever anyone from Professional Standards is involved then it makes things difficult, people become suspicious, but I'm always fair and listen to all sides before making my report.'
Carole nodded. 'That's reassuring to hear, now if I can help in any way then all you have to do is ask.'
Creet smiled at her response, and then shifted slightly in his seat. 'Thank you, Chief…'
'Call me Carole,' she interrupted.
'I was listening to the news on the way over about the missing girl being discovered.'
'That's right,' she paused, 'though I don't know if you're aware that we believe the same person is also responsible for t
he abduction of another fifteen-year-old girl?'
'Morgan Pence?'
Carole sighed as she glanced towards the rain-splattered window. 'Yes, and as you can imagine we're doing everything we can to find her.'
Creet looked pained for a moment and then he sighed. 'It sounds to me as if you have a lot on your plate at the moment.'
Carole eased back slightly, her eyes still fixed on the view from the office window, the waterlogged fields looking like a giant mud bath. 'To be honest all the team always have full plates, but they are amongst the best officers I have ever worked with.'
Creet looked at her closely, before being sent over here he had done a background check on some of the officers who served in the Wigan force, and Carole Henson's record had been exemplary, although there had been the odd occasion when she had been questioned about her support of the team she worked with. Then again, some of those reports had been written by Christopher Ryan, a one-time highflyer in the Manchester force, who had turned out to be corrupt in every sense of the word.
Then there was DCI Bannister, another man with a reputation for being abrasive, but again his record pointed to a detective who gave his all to the job, and as far as Creet was concerned you could ask for no more in an officer.
'I know you've had some high-profile cases and the results speak for themselves.'
'For such a small town we get more than our fair share of problems, and I will admit that we are overstretched, but I suppose there are lots of other teams in the same situation.'
'I'm afraid it's the same all over,' he paused, 'we both know that the purse strings are always tied tight, until there's a chance that it will make those in charge look bad and then suddenly resources are thrown at a case – often when it's too late.'
Carole felt her eyes widen in surprise. 'Forgive me, Mr Creet, but I wasn't expecting that response.'
'Forget the ''Mr'' just call me Lucien.'
'Striking name,' she said with a smile.
'Believe me it has caused a few problems in the past, especially when I was a kid, a bit like the ''boy named Sue'' song,' his mouth flicked into a smile and then vanished.
Easing closer to the desk, Carole nodded. 'Well, I must say the last time I had to deal with someone from Professional Standards it wasn't the best of experiences.'
'I take it you're referring to Ryan?'
The smile slipped from her face. 'He was a dangerous man, looking to take some members of this team down.'
'Including Sergeant Lasser?' he asked.
Carole suddenly felt wary as he peered at her from behind the round glasses, and she reminded herself why he was here, and although his eyes were friendly enough, she could see a cool detachment in his gaze.
'Lasser is a lynchpin to this team, he is respected by every member of the squad,' she replied, her voice sounding harsher than intended.
'I think PC Black might not quite agree with you there.'
When she made no response, he held up a hand.
'Believe me, Carole, I am not here to cause any problems. Steven Black has worked in Wigan for over ten years and I have a list of complaints he has made against fellow members of the team. Now, I realise that there is always the occasional bad apple in any force, sometimes more than one and although it seems to me to be unusual for one officer to have so many gripes with fellow colleagues, I will still take those complaints seriously.'
'I understand,' she replied, fully aware that the man opposite was no fool.
'But I will also listen to what the officers who have been accused have to say on the individual aspects of those complaints.'
'That's all I ask for.'
Reaching down to the left, he lifted a laptop bag from the floor before pulling out the computer and placing it on the desk. Seconds later he had opened it and logged on.
Carole waited, the rain still hitting the window, the wind once again picking up speed.
'According to Black, he claims that he was attending a burglary with a fellow officer and they chased the suspect into open ground,' he glanced up, his glasses appeared opaque, hiding the eyes behind the lenses.
She nodded for him to continue.
'He then states that PC Rourke entered a derelict property.'
'Correct.'
'Rourke asked him to go inside the building and Black used his initiative stating that the house was dilapidated and unsafe,' he tilted his head slightly, and suddenly she could see his eyes again keen and watchful.
Carole paused for a moment. 'The house was in serious disrepair, that's certainly true.'
Creet glanced back at the laptop screen. 'Black then claims that when DI Noble arrived, he was made to feel, and I quote, ''like a leper'' for not following Rourke into the house.'
Carole could see the way this was heading, and she knew that Black had thought things through before putting in the complaints, which only seemed to make the anger she felt towards the man more intense.
'Can I speak freely?' she asked.
'Of course.'
This time she leaned further forward and placed her elbows on the desk. 'I trust those I work with, but as you said earlier even the best team can have someone who doesn't fit, someone who feels that they are on the outside.'
'I've come across a lot of people like that, especially in this job,' he admitted.
'I'm sure you have, and you will also know that in this job trust is paramount.'
'Absolutely.'
'Well, I will tell you now that PC Black is not trustworthy, and it pains me to say that, but time and again he has shown his reluctance to do the job to the required standards.'
'Are you referring to his refusal to enter the house?' Creet asked.
Carole shook her head slightly. 'Not at all, I would never expect any of my officers to put themselves into a situation where they feel unsafe. However, what I do expect is that when a fellow officer asks for assistance then it is provided. I mean, I have no idea if you have ever been a serving officer?'
'I worked in the Serious Crime Squad for eight years.'
'So you know how important it is to trust whoever you are on duty with?'
'I do,' he paused, 'I assume you are talking specifically about when the killer of Julie Rawlins leapt from the upstairs window and made his escape.'
Carole felt the flutter of admiration as she nodded. 'You have done your homework, and yes you're right. Whoever killed Julie Rawlins attacked PC Rourke who immediately alerted Black to which way the killer had run, and Black made no effort to give chase.'
'Black claims that when DI Noble and Doctor Shannon arrived, he felt threatened.'
'''Threatened''!?' she asked in astonishment.
Creet nodded, his face still unreadable. 'According to him, DI Noble told him that he should never have been a police officer and accused him of cowardice. He states that he tried to put his side of events and she refused to listen to him.'
'I…'
'Plus, he is adamant that the doctor used abusive language, in the end he walked away because he felt genuinely uneasy about the way the conversation was going.'
'I have spoken to Detective Inspector Noble about this and she doesn't deny that the situation became heated, and the doctor did get angry, but again I have known Shannon for a few years and he rarely gets annoyed or…'
'Are we talking about the same Doctor Shannon who once attacked Christopher Ryan?' Creet asked.
Carole blinked in shock. 'What are you talking about?'
Creet sighed. 'I know I sound like some kind of interrogator, and I know how infuriating that can be, but believe me I learned long ago that the only way to do this job is to be armed with as much information as possible.'
'But what's this about Shannon hitting Ryan?'
'It was in one of Ryan's own reports,' he paused, 'apparently it was over in a place called Hindley, he claimed that Shannon simply attacked him for no apparent reason and believe me, Ryan wrote a lot of reports about the team over here in Wigan.'
Carole felt her shoulders slump as she realised that as well as being intelligent, the man opposite was also thorough in his approach to the job.
'I'm not saying this has anything to do with what went on the other night, but I have made the mistake in the past of not following the slightest lead and it has come back to bite me big time.'
'Well, I'm afraid I know nothing about Ryan, and this alleged assault.'
Creet shrugged. 'The truth is it isn't really important, but Black also talks about DCI Bannister and Lasser, he claims they have both been abusive to him in the past, both verbally and physically.'
'That's not…'
'Please, Carole, think before you reply. We know that in the past Lasser has had a problem following the rules, he's been lucky not to have been investigated before now, and if I'm being honest then it is the same with Bannister.'
Carole pushed the chair back from the desk and stood up. 'I dare say if you look into the career of any officer you will find problems, but I will tell you now, I will back every member of my team especially over unfounded allegations such as these.'
'I expect nothing less,' Creet replied with a nod.
'And do you want to know why?'
Creet tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. 'Please continue.'
'The reason is simple, on the one hand you have Bannister, Odette Noble and Lasser, three individual officers who have brought more hardened criminals to justice that anyone I have ever worked with, and I have worked in two major cities.'
' Liverpool and Manchester,' he replied.
'That's right, and as I said I have never come across a better team, but it's more than that, it's about the determination and dedication that they show day after day, they have saved lives, in fact, they have even saved my life,' she looked directly at Creet, her gaze hard and unwavering. 'And I am sad to say that I cannot say the same for Steven Black, as far as I am concerned, he is not to be trusted under any circumstances, Odette was right, he shouldn't be in this job, eventually he will be responsible for getting someone killed because he fails to do his duty.'
Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021) Page 28