'You're joking, right?'
Tilly gave him a cool stare. 'You can save the flattery, I'm seventy five now and I feel a damn sight older, and besides I've got a mirror - I'm not blind.'
Lasser blinked in surprise.
'Besides, our Joe wasn't there, he was up at Leigh in rehab.'
'Right.'
Tilly sighed. 'Ten kids, I suppose I should count myself lucky that there was only one bad apple among 'em.'
'When did you last see Joe?'
'He turned up at the end of November and asked to borrow some money.'
'And...'
'He was always on the cadge. Two of his brothers have a roofing company and our Antony runs his own computer business, they all offered him work but he was never interested.'
'So did you give him any cash?'
'No I didn't, I told him he was nearly fifty years old, he had the use of his hands and feet he could have worked like the rest of 'em.'
'And what did he say when you knocked him back?'
Tilly eased back in the chair grimacing as the pain in her hip flared. 'He whinged and moaned but I was sick of it, so I told him to sling his hook.'
'And that was the last time you saw him?'
Tilly gave a sharp nod in response.
'You said he had a drug problem?'
'Before you ask I have no idea where he got his stuff from, I mean, over the last twelve months I hardly ever saw him.'
'So, you have no idea who he hung around with?'
'He was an adult not a teenager.' Tilly snapped.
Lasser held up an apologetic hand. 'Tell me, was Joseph married or in a relationship with anyone?'
'Our Joe wasn't interested in a relationship he had enough trouble looking after himself.'
'What about kids?'
'Not that I know of.'
Lasser pursed his lips. 'One more thing, did Joseph have any tattoos?'
Another shake of the head, 'He wouldn't have dared.'
Susan leaned forward in the chair. 'Why do you say that?'
Tilly looked at the young police officer and smiled. 'You don't look old enough to be doing a job like this.'
'I'm twenty six.'
The old woman shook her head. 'Twenty six is a good age to be, you make the most of it, love.'
'Don't worry I will.'
'One of my girls used to work in the force you know.'
'Locally?' Lasser asked.
'Mm, but she gave it up when she had a family.'
'What's her name, I might know her?'
'Elizabeth Rogers.'
Lasser eyes sprang wide. 'I know Lizzie; she left a couple of years back.'
Tilly smiled. 'I think she still misses it sometimes but it's no job for a woman with kids.'
Lasser shook his head. 'It's a small world, Tilly.'
'You were asking about why our Joe wouldn't have had a tattoo?'
The sudden change in direction caught Lasser off guard. 'Sorry, we got off track there.'
Tilly twisted the plain wedding band on her finger. 'Their father had loads of 'em and I always told my kids if they ever came home with one then they could find somewhere else to live.'
'So you don't like them?' Susan asked.
'Hate 'em with a passion, their father was always a useless sod and I wasn't having them going the same way.'
Lasser slapped his hands onto his knees. 'Right, Tilly, we're sorry to come around like this and you've been more than helpful.'
'So I take it the body isn't our Joe's?'
'I'm afraid not.'
Tilly sighed and for a moment Lasser could see the pain hidden in the depths of her eyes, then she twitched her head and the look vanished.
Halfway along the hallway she plucked at Lasser's sleeve.
'This tattoo, what was it exactly?'
Lasser turned. 'It was the name of a girl.'
Tilly harrumphed. 'They're daft buggers some of 'em, I mean, why would you do something so stupid?'
'Yeah well, it takes all sorts.'
'So, what was her name then?'
'Shelly.'
When Tilly Crank slumped to the floor, Lasser thought she was having a heart attack.
'Call an ambulance quick!' he dropped to his knees by her side. 'Tilly love, it's OK, take it easy.'
She flapped a hand and then looked up at him her eyes shimmering with tears. 'Our Joseph's first girlfriend was called Shelly,' she croaked.
17
Lasser dropped a pound coin into the drinks machine and jabbed at the buttons.
'What are we doing about identification?' Bannister asked as Lasser handed him the plastic cup filled with something that looked like coffee but stank like drain cleaner.
'One of Mrs Crank's daughters has agreed to come to the hospital tomorrow and take a look.'
Lasser glanced at the clock on the wall of the cafeteria - half five already.
'Right, so we can assume the body is that of Joseph Crank?'
'It looks that way.'
'And what do we actually know about the man?'
'To be honest not much, I get the impression the rest of the family were sick of the way he lived his life.'
'Hardly surprising.'
'DI's Cooper and Chadwick are working the Miller Lane estate maybe they'll find out who his dealer was.'
'You check it, Lasser, you seem to have the touch when it comes to talking to the roughnecks.'
'But...'
'As soon as they see Cooper and Chadwick they'll clam up.'
'Are you saying I look like a bag head?'
Bannister flapped a hand. 'I've had the report back from the lab.'
'Anything interesting?'
'Crank died from an overdose, according to the lab, the sample they took showed a mixture of barbiturates, though they're having trouble separating them at the moment.'
'What about the others?'
'Same scenario, although the mixture had been refined it was still strong enough to kill them both.'
Lasser took a sip from his cup of gloop.
'So, it looks as if your guinea pig theory could be right, Sergeant. Which makes it even more important we catch those responsible before they line up another idiot to try it.'
'What's the next step?'
'We need to identify the other two, but it seems unlikely there's any connection between the three.'
'Apart from the supplier.'
Bannister nodded, 'Obviously.'
'Well, whoever's responsible will want to keep the victims close. They can't afford to simply hand it over and let them walk...'
'In case they get picked up or stumble into the road?'
Lasser grunted. 'So, they make sure the victim is indoors and when it goes tits up they can bundle them into a car or van and then it's a trip to the water.'
Bannister pulled out his car keys, tossing them from one hand to the other. 'Maybe we should go door to door on the road that leads to the lake. See if anyone was spotted heading up there late at night.'
'I checked with Tom Hammond and he says there's plenty of night fishing goes on up there so people are always coming and going at odd hours.'
'Worth a try though.'
'Yeah, why not?'
Bannister frowned. 'Come on, Lasser, you could at least show some enthusiasm!'
Lasser yawned in response.
'How come you're always knackered?'
'I had a late night.'
'Oh yes, you have one of Medea's old girlfriends staying over don't you?'
'Mm.'
'Come on then, what's she like?'
'Well, I only met her last night and to be honest they'd both been at the wine.'
'Hey, you never know you might get the chance...'
'Don't even go there,' Lasser warned.
Bannister grinned.
18
'Have you eaten yet?'
'No we've just got in; I was going to do a quick stir-fry.'
Lasser was crawling along in the endless snake
of teatime traffic, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. 'Well, I know its short notice but why don't we eat out?'
'That would be nice.'
'Do you want to check with Emma first?'
'She's in the shower but I know she said she was starving so she'll be up for it.'
'Right well, I'm on my way home but the traffic’s a nightmare.'
'No worries, we’ll be ready.'
'Sorted, I'll see you soon.'
'Love you.'
'Ditto,' Lasser ended the call and slid the window down before flicking his ash through the gap.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled onto the drive and climbed from the car. He found Emma in the lounge drying her hair. When she spotted him, she smiled and clicked the dryer off.
'Hi, Medea's just hopped into the shower.'
Slipping off his jacket, he tossed it onto the sofa before dragging his tie loose. 'No problem.'
'Busy day?'
'Finishing at this time it feels like half a day.'
'Medea said you work long hours.'
'Too long, that's why it makes a nice change to clock off early.'
Emma picked up a tiny bottle of nail varnish and unscrewed the lid; Lasser caught the scent of pear drops. 'So, how long have you been a police officer?'
'Man and boy,' he said with a smile.
Emma lifted her foot onto the coffee table and dragged the small brush across the nail of her big toe. 'I still can't believe you and Med are getting married.'
Lasser sat down in the bouncy chair. 'I can't believe she said yes.'
Emma looked up and smiled. 'She's mad for you.'
Her words took him by surprise and he felt the colour flood to his cheeks.
She tilted her head. 'You must know that?'
'Do you fancy a drink?' Lasser said as he bounded to his feet.
Emma laughed lightly. 'I've embarrassed you?'
'White wine OK?' Lasser asked as he headed for the door.
'Red if you have it.'
Lasser nodded and disappeared from the room.
Emma shook her head and turned back to painting her nails.
19
Donny Elliot cursed low under his breath as he missed the gear change; the engine whined as he dipped the clutch and rammed the lever into second.
'Bastard thing!' he snarled as the ancient Transit kangarooed up the steep incline. The road snaked up the hill bordered with huge oak and beech trees, the surface smothered with a wet blanket of last year's fallen leaves.
The van began to slow down and he took a deep breath before clattering into first gear. He could see a set of headlights approaching fast in the wing mirror, the driver flicked on the main beam and Donny squinted against the sudden glare.
After what seemed an age a small opening appeared on the left and he indicated before turning onto the small car park, the car behind shot past, horn blaring, lights flashing.
'Fucker!' Donny gasped as he drove across the patch of broken tarmac, the headlights of the van scythed through the darkness. When he spotted the litterbin, he pulled up alongside and killed the engine before turning off the lights. Clicking open the door, Donny sniffed and grimaced at the raw smell of wet earth before climbing out.
The tops of the huge trees groaned and creaked as the wind riffled through the branches. Yanking a small torch from his pocket, he headed over to the bin and shone the torch inside. Grunting, he dipped his hand through the gap and pulled out the plastic ASDA bag.
Donny clamped the torch between his teeth, tugged it open and peered inside; dragging out the empty sandwich wrapper he threw it onto the ground before sliding his hand back inside again, a Mars bar wrapper was cast to one side, along with an empty bag of crisps. When his fingers came across the tiny plastic bag he grinned and the torch slipped from his teeth.
'Shit!' He made a grab for it and missed, the torch hit the ground, and the light vanished.
Tossing the ASDA bag to one side he bent down and lifted the torch; the sound of broken glass tinkling to the floor brought a sneer of anger to Donny Elliot's face.
'Twat,' he hissed before throwing the shattered remains into the long grass. Heading back to the van, he climbed in and flicked on the interior light. The small bag contained about a tablespoon full of white powder.
Donny grinned and slid it inside his pocket before starting the engine; half a minute later he pulled off the car park and headed down the hill.
'Yee ha!' he bellowed as the van hurtled down the twisting hillside.
20
They made a stunning pairing, Medea with her jet-black hair piled high on her head and Emma as fair as Medea was dark. From the corner of his eye, Lasser could see a group of three blokes sitting a few tables away eyeing them up. One of them whispered something to his mate and then all three were laughing.
Lasser ignored them and speared a chip with his fork. 'So what are your plans for tomorrow?' he asked.
'Well, we thought of having a ride out to Southport.'
'Don't forget to bring me back a stick of rock.'
Emma smiled. 'What about one of those sugar dummies?'
'No hang on, I'll have a bag of doughnuts and candy floss.'
'Sounds as if you have a sweet tooth?'
'He doesn't like to discriminate, Em, in fact, he'll eat anything, and if it's deep fried or smothered in chocolate then it's even better.'
'There's nothing wrong with a healthy appetite,' Lasser said straight faced.
Medea shook her head. 'Lasser thinks doughnuts and candyfloss are part of your five a day, don't you, sweetheart?'
The laughter from the three men increased, one of them sounded like a donkey with asthma.
'I'm just nipping to the little girl's room,' Emma said with a smile as she pushed back her chair and stood up.
'Hang on I'll come with you.'
Lasser raised an eyebrow. 'Why do you always go in pairs?'
Emma flicked her hair. 'It's so we can talk about you behind your back.'
'I'd like to imagine that's a joke but somehow I think you're being serious.'
Med dropped her napkin onto the table. 'Your ears should start burning in the next thirty seconds so be warned.'
He watched as they made their way past the group of men, all three turned to watch. Lasser felt the first stirrings of anger.
Picking up his drink, he took a long pull watching them closely over the rim of the glass.
To take his mind off the morons, he pulled out his phone to check for messages. As expected the box was empty.
When one of the men stood up and disappeared around the corner Lasser sat up, the other two men were whispering to one another and then one of them glanced across the room towards him and flashed a smarmy grin.
'Tossers,' he mumbled darkly.
Both were dressed in flash suits; they had that oiled look of sales representatives away from home and desperate to play the field.
Popping another chip into his mouth, he chewed and swallowed, before taking another glug of Guinness.
The one who had his back to Lasser glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow as if to say 'What's your problem?'
Dragging out his wallet, Lasser slid a tenner free and pushed himself to his feet before walking over to the cigarette machine. Both men watched as he crossed the room weaving between tables as he approached.
'Do we have a problem, Mister?'
Lasser stopped and looked down at the man who had been giving him the eye; his friend sat opposite and licked his lips as he saw the look on Lasser's face. He looked to be about thirty and overweight, his gut strained at the buttons of his cream coloured shirt.
'Leave it, Paul,' he said to the man sitting opposite.
Paul threw him a look of disgust. 'What are you talking about, Don, this idiot's been giving me evils all night.'
Lasser ignored them and moved around the corner, Medea and Emma were standing in the narrow passageway, the third idiot was standing in front of them with
his arms spread wide blocking their path.
'Come on just one drink where's the harm in that?'
'Look, just move out of the way,' Medea said, when she saw Lasser approaching her eyes sprang wide in alarm.
'Is everything alright, Med?'
The man turned and looked Lasser up and down. 'Come on, pal, I was just asking them if they wanted a drink, there's no need to play the caveman.'
'Do you want a drink from this man?' Lasser asked jabbing a finger forward.
Medea shook her head and squeezed past the drunk. He blinked in confusion and then spotted Emma making her move. 'Come on, sweetheart, he's just being greedy, he doesn't need two of you.'
'Get out of my way right now!' Emma snapped.
When he shot out a hand, she gasped, her eyes suddenly alive with fear. Lasser stepped forward and grabbed the collar of his jacket; the man shot backwards and then spun around and threw out a fist. Lasser slapped it down before slamming his knee between the attacker's legs, the force lifted the drunk from his feet, and then he collapsed onto the red chequered carpet his face ripped with agony. His left hand waved in the air as if he were hailing a passing cab, his right cupped the crown jewels.
Emma looked down at the man in astonishment, Medea grabbed Lasser's sleeve.
'Let's go,' she hissed in his ear.
'I haven't had my sweet yet, Med,'
'Your sweet!'
'Trust me doing a runner isn't a good idea.'
Emma stepped over the prostrate figure, her face flushed with colour.
'Can you believe he won't leave until he's had his pudding?' Medea hissed.
Emma looked up at Lasser as if truly seeing him for the first time.
'Like I said, trust me over this,' taking Medea's arm, he led them back to the main room. As soon as they sat down, he turned and headed back to where the two men were sitting, watching him in confusion.
Lasser loomed over the table. 'Your friend’s had an accident; he's around the corner...'
'What the fuck do you mean an accident?'' Evil eye snarled.
'His bollocks accidently collided with my knee.'
When the man tried to rise, Lasser placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. 'Don't even think about making a scene, pal. Now, I suggest you go and help him while I finish my meal and don't get any ideas about hanging around outside waiting for me, because if you do I'll make sure you spend the night in a cell.'
Vanished Beneath: DS Lasser six (The Lasser series Book 6) Page 5