Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021)

by Robin Roughley

  'Who are you? Flack demanded as he spun to face the man.

  'What sort of question is that?' Tom Barry asked as he took a step closer before coming to a halt.

  'I…'

  'Move out of the way, you cunt, let me see the girl,' Barry suddenly snarled.

  Flack winced and then he saw the old man's eyes and suddenly he knew exactly who was standing in front of him.

  'Mentor,' he gasped.

  'Stupid fucking name, now move,' Barry said, hooking his thumb to the left.

  Robert Flack was speechless, the fact that the killer would look so old had never crossed his mind, he had been convinced that he would be eternal as if the killings had somehow kept him young and vibrant.

  Yet the man who stood before him looked ancient, his face creased with deep lines, gouged into the skin, his lips a thin blue line.

  'Fucking move,' Barry snarled and Flack saw the depthless rage in the old man's eyes, a fury that burned deep and everlasting, and he shuffled to the side in awe at what he was witnessing.

  Barry's dentures flashed as he looked at the girl. 'She has a look of Rowbottom, she had small tits as well.'

  Morgan felt the terror climb ever higher seeing the disgusting old man lick his lips as he stared at her with his dead eyes.

  'What are you doing here?' Flack asked as the wind died down, the corner of the stone structure offering some protection from the worst of the driving wind and rain.

  Barry kept his eyes on the girl for a moment and then he sighed before looking at Flack.

  'You don't remember me, do you?' he asked.

  Flack blinked the rain from his eyes as he looked closely at the old man and then he shook his head. 'Have we met?' he asked.

  Barry's eyes were suddenly laced with disgust. 'How do you think I knew how to contact you; how did I know about the things you loved, the things you craved?

  Flack tried to think but his mind was crammed with confusion, he had been so filled with excitement, the girl in front of him, the urge to kill rising and now everything had changed, and he couldn't seem to think straight.

  'I don't know,' he mumbled.

  'You were an idiot back in ninety-nine and it seems nothing has changed.'

  Morgan glanced at Flack seeing the bemusement on his face and she knew that right now he was unaware of her, he had forgotten that she even existed, though she knew it was a brief respite from the inevitable.

  'Ninety-nine?' Flack asked as he wiped the rain from his anguished face.

  'Back then you were just a spotty teenager, your bedroom crammed with books, books about killers, you even had pictures on your wall, Sutcliffe was there and Brady, you…'

  'Who are you?' Flack gasped as he took a backward step into the rain.

  'Now I come to think of it you never looked at me, you were too ashamed so it's hardly surprising that you don't remember me.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about, I've never met you before,' Flack said as he licked his wet lips.

  'We were checking on the weirdos and pervs and your father was on our list, he had been cautioned in ninety-five for exposing himself in a local park, so he was questioned about the death of Sharon Bliss, my boss stayed downstairs grilling your old man while I took a look around the house. And there you were in your shitty little room fantasising about killing.'

  Robert Flack actually yelped as the memory came crashing into his mind obliterating everything else.

  When the bedroom door had clicked open, he had spun around to see the uniform standing in the doorway, instantly he had lowered his gaze, the fear rising as he snapped the book about the Ripper closed.

  He had been aware of the copper moving around the room picking books up from the side of the bed, the pages being rifled before the book was dropped to the floor one after the other.

  'Name?' the voice had asked.

  'Robert,' he had replied, his head still bowed, body starting to shake in fear.

  'Are you sick.'

  'No, no I'm not sick.'

  'Well, your reading material suggests otherwise.'

  Young Robert Flack had made no reply, his eyes screwed shut, the blood thundering in his ears.

  He hadn't moved for over five minutes and when he did raise his gaze it was to find the room empty and the rush of relief had escaped his mouth in a whoosh.

  'You remember now, don't you?' Barry asked.

  All Flack could do was nod his head as the rain fell around him.

  'I took your diary that day and I've kept it all these years knowing that one day it might come in handy, and now here we are. It made for interesting reading, marking all those pathetic bastards for the crimes they had committed, but the truth is they were nothing, just sick with no thought behind the things they did, they were all caught and they all…'

  'I know!' Flack raised his voice and suddenly he was once more filled with excitement, his mentor was here, actually here, he had revealed himself and Flack felt awestruck. 'They were pathetic losers, but you fooled them all!'

  Barry smiled, his dentures white in his narrow mouth. 'They never came close and that's because I was more intelligent than any of them, they were idiots who didn't even know how to follow the clues I left.'

  Morgan could sense the tension between the two men, a sick kind of tension, the air charged with it, the stink of evil.

  'Claim your prize,' Barry said as he stepped back and beckoned Flack towards him.

  Flack shuffled forward, his face running with water, his eyes alight with joy seeing Morgan cringe back against the wall as he slowly moved in front of her.

  'Remember how I did it?' Barry whispered into Flack's ear.

  'Strangulation.'

  'That's correct.'

  Flack seemed to grow in stature, his mind emboldened by the fact that his mentor was here to witness the kill.

  Raising his hands, Flack looked at them picturing them around Morgan's throat, he closed his eyes to relish every second and then he snapped upright, his mouth stretching wide, his scream lost to the howling wind as he staggered forward.

  Morgan had nowhere to go as Flack fell against her before falling to his knees and crashing to one side.

  At last Morgan screamed in terror and then her mouth snapped closed as she saw the old man lift the blade, the shining metal coated red that was instantly washed away in the rain.

  At her feet, Flack moaned and then Barry lunged forward and down, the blade plunging into Robert Flack's neck.

  'Fucking fool, did you really think I would go to all this trouble just to please you?' he demanded as he sawed the blade back and forth, the flesh parting, the blood gushing. 'There's no way I could have got the girl up here, but I knew you could, knew you would follow my instructions because that's what you are, someone eager to please with no mind of their own, a fucking nobody!' Barry screamed and laughed at the same time a terrible sound that made Morgan screw her eyes closed, her hands pulling and tugging as she desperately tried to free herself from the tape.

  She knew Flack was dead and that the old man was raving words into darkness, a madman, a maniac.

  The words suddenly stopped, and she felt the warm breath on her face, but she couldn't open her eyes, knowing that what was standing in front of her would stop her heart.

  'Just so you know, once I have throttled the life out of you, I'm going to take your eyes, I told her exactly the same thing and she begged me to let her live, that's what you do, you always beg in the end and…'

  Suddenly the breath was gone, and she heard a yelp of pain, her eyes sprang wide to see the old man go hurtling backwards, the blade lashed out, missing her face by a matter of inches, then it fell from his grasp as the man who held him slammed the hand down.

  Her legs started to buckle as the confused terror swamped her, then someone else appeared before her and she felt strong hands take hold of her, keeping her upright.

  'It's OK, Morgan, you're safe now.'

  She looked up at the man who towered above h
er, his eyes looked blacker than the night, then he flickered a smile of relief. 'My name's Lasser, I'm a police officer and…'

  'You aren't going to kill me, are you?' she asked in a quivering voice.

  'No, we're here to take you back home.'

  Morgan broke down in floods of tears and then suddenly her arms were free as he quickly unravelled the tape from her wrists, and she fell forward into his arms.

  'You're OK now,' he repeated as he held her.

  When he heard a grunt from behind, Lasser eased the girl away and turned, Barry was glaring at him, Bannister at his back, his right arm wrapped tight around his neck.

  'What the fuck are you doing here?' Barry snarled.

  Lasser stepped towards him. 'We're here to catch a scumbag murderer,' he replied, then he glanced down at the dead man on the ground, his head to one side, the flesh torn, blood still oozing from the ghastly wound. 'And it looks as if we have two for the price of one.'

  Barry's face writhed and Lasser tried to reconcile the man trapped in Bannister's grip with the one who had sat in the small bungalow puffing contentedly on his pipe.

  'It doesn't bother me what you do, I have the big fucking C so even if you lock me up it won't be for long,' Barry said as his mouth twisted in an evil grin of satisfaction.

  'What about the man on the deck, who is he?' Bannister asked, his mouth close to Barry's left ear.

  'Just some tosser I was using, he…'

  'His name is Robert Flack,' Morgan broke in as she stayed close to Lasser's side, her eyes locked on the old man.

  'You know him?' Lasser asked in surprise.

  'He's my dad's business partner, he was the one who attacked me and my mother and…'

  'Your mother's, fine, Morgan,' Lasser interrupted and felt her sway against him in relief. 'As soon as we take care of this animal then you can ring her, is that OK?'

  'Thank you,' she gasped.

  'Fuck you all,' Barry snarled, and Lasser saw the hatred for the world in his eyes, the eyes of a killer shining from the mask of old age, the perfect disguise.

  'Why did you kill Flack?' Bannister demanded as he tightened his grip.

  'You're meant to be detectives, so you work it out,' Barry said as his false teeth flashed again in a vicious grin.

  Easing in front of Morgan, Lasser took a step closer, his eyes boring into Barry's face, his mind working through the pieces, and then he tilted his head. 'You wanted to kill again, you wanted to relive how it used to be, but you knew you were too knackered to do it alone,' he leaned in close and lowered his voice so Morgan couldn't hear. 'Too fucking decrepit.'

  The look of hatred in the old man's eyes glittered, a swirling mass of fury and bile.

  'You wanted to make sure that this sick bastard would follow your orders, that's why you told him about Ethel Brab,' he paused, 'and Penny Salter.'

  'He was fucking useless, he let the little bitch escape, she should have been dumped with Salter, and he LET ME DOWN!' Barry suddenly bellowed.

  Morgan backed up to the wall again, unnerved at the madness in his voice, her hands shaking, her bottom lip trembling.

  'But you gave him another chance, didn't you, because although you didn't have the strength to snatch a girl you still knew you could make it up here and…'

  'I fucking fooled you though, didn't I?' Barry snarled again before barking out a laugh.

  Lasser's hands closed into fists.

  'Easy, Sergeant,' Bannister warned as he saw the familiar look of fury spark in Lasser's eyes.

  'You thought I was housebound, just a stupid old fart who could hardly cross the room, so much for your deductive powers,' Barry chided again, his voice full of dark derision.

  'Yeah well, if you were so smart and we're so stupid, we wouldn't be here now, would we?' Bannister hissed.

  'Fuck off,' Barry growled.

  'No, he's right,' Lasser said. 'He did fool me, he fed me shit and I fell for it.'

  Barry managed to nod his head and gurgled another throaty laugh.

  'And if it hadn't been for Finder then you would have got away with murder again.'

  '''FINDER''!?' Barry's voice rose, and he tried to struggle free, but Bannister kept tight hold as he looked at Lasser in confusion.

  'He was the one who told us where you might be, he told us all about how you ran down Bob Ross when he was getting too close to you.'

  'I never killed Bob fucking Ross!'

  Lasser shrugged. 'You've already said how thick I am, but we're here and it's all thanks to DCI Finder,' Lasser said, deliberately using Finder's old rank to infuriate Barry.

  The old man's face continued to curdle, his eyes narrowing as rainwater dripped from his sodden woollen hat, slowly sliding down his face. 'I don't believe you,' he eventually hissed.

  Lasser could see the hint of uncertainty in the old man's poisonous eyes as his tongue quickly lashed across his lips.

  'Believe what you like, but Finder had his suspicions about you.'

  'Lies!' Barry strained against Bannister's grip, but he knew he was going nowhere.

  'He told me all about how you had trained together in Preston, how he moved on and you stayed at the bottom of the food chain because you were too thick to be a detective and too lazy to be trusted with anything other than riding around on your pushbike.'

  Barry's face continued to writhe, his shoulders twisting as he tried to break free again.

  Lasser watched him squirm and all the while he was trying to think what to say next to push the bastard's buttons. Then his mind seemed to clear, and he pictured Finder with his sly eyes and superior attitude, he took another step forward until he was standing directly in front of Tom Barry, then he dipped his head until they were face to face.

  'Finder told me all about the murders.'

  Bannister's eyes widened as he watched Lasser's face, he looked calm though his eyes were laser bright as he continued to stare at the man in front of him.

  Although he couldn't see Barry's face, Bannister felt him tense in his arms, his body going stiff, his breathing suddenly sounded laboured.

  'I don't believe you,' Barry snarled again.

  'That's up to you, pal, but Finder was on to you…'

  'Don't make me fucking laugh, he was never ''on to me''!'

  'He said Ross suspected you of the murders and then he was run down, killed at the entrance to the woods!' Lasser jabbed a finger into Barry's chest and the old man winced in pain.

  'Lies!' he snarled, like a rabid dog.

  'Save your breath, old man, we know what you did.'

  'You stupid cunt, you know nothing!'

  Lasser heard Morgan gasp at the profanity yet he kept his eyes on Barry's face, seeing the fury meld with the madness, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, white and froth-like.

  'Finder is nothing, do you hear me, fucking nothing!'

  'Yakety, yak,' Lasser said as he opened and closed his right hand, mimicking a mouth. 'Truth is you were always jealous of Finder.'

  'Jealous of that moron!' Barry raged.

  Lasser felt the gust of wind and the splatter of rain that hit the side of his face. 'Well, look at the pair of you, he made DCI and while he was riding around in a car you were pumping up your tyres and putting on your bike clips. Finder was respected but no one trusted you, he lives in a huge house while you sit there in your shitty little bungalow dreaming of your sick past. Finder has a life, and you have sod all.'

  'But he never caught me, did he? I killed three times right under his fucking nose and he knew nothing about it.'

  Lasser felt the shock of Barry's words though he managed to keep it from showing on his face. 'He knew enough to put us onto you.'

  Barry snorted again. 'I killed the Brab woman and you still have no fucking idea why I did it, do you?'

  'You did it because you're mental, because you think you are somehow superior and…'

  'I am superior!' Barry said and actually stamped his foot like some spoiled brat.

 
Lasser smiled and shook his head. 'Pathetic is what you are.'

  'Don't you dare say that to me. Don't you fucking dare! I killed Brab, Salter and that stupid bitch Norma Rowbottom. I killed her right here, strangled the life out of her, took her eyes and walked away from it clean, I was twice the copper you will ever be. I could have made DCI if I'd wanted, I could have been in charge of the lot of them and…'

  'Not in charge of Finder, that would never have happened,' Lasser said with a savage shake of his head.

  'You think the sun shines out of his arse, don't you? But I'm telling you he never had a clue that I killed those whores. In fact, I did it in part to see what he would do about it, but he was fucking useless just like Ross, I made them look like idiots, like morons!'

  Again, Lasser pictured Finder's keen-eyed stare, there had been nothing moronic in his gaze, in fact he had been the opposite, there had been an intelligence there, a strange kind of darkness that at first Lasser had put down to Finder's natural air of superiority. Though now he felt the shift in his mind as he looked at Barry, at the madness and blood lust plastered over his face, and even more than that he could see the jealousy in his crazed eyes.

  'I left them enough clues just to see if they would be able to follow them, but they never even spotted the fucking evidence, Finder was and still is a pompous fool who thought he was smart, but he was never smart, he was an idiot.'

  Lasser shook his head again and even tutted as if he were having a conversation with a brat rather than an old age pensioner. 'Listen to yourself, you are the one who sounds like an idiot, you killed three innocent women, but you did it all before Finder was in charge, didn't you, and you've already said to me that back in those days you could never have approached a senior officer with a theory, it simply wasn't the way things were done, so that blows your bullshit out of the water. But by the time Finder made DCI you had stopped killing and that was because deep down you were scared of doing it again because Finder would have caught you.'

  'Cocksucker!' Barry snarled as he tried to lunge forward, then yelped as Bannister snatched him back hard.