Leaping back into the van Elliot crunched into first gear and headed back down the narrow rutted lane, hawthorn branches clattered along the side of the van sounding like hands banging to be let in.
Then he had spent two nerve-shredding hours driving around town with the body in the back of the van, desperately trying to decide where he could dump the remains. Donny had lost count of the number of lay-bys he had pulled into but they had all seemed inadequate for the job. In the end, he'd headed out towards Rivington, driving along the darkened lanes with the black bulk of the Pennines to his right. After ten minutes of searching, he had pulled up on a long stretch of desolate road. In the distance, he could see the lights of the town and the glare from the endless stream of traffic that rumbled along the M61. The lane bordered on the left by a deep drainage ditch; Donny clambered from the van and rushed to the rear doors, the sky lit by a billion uninterested stars. By the time he'd dragged Sarah from the back he was drenched in sweat and breathing hard.
When the scream erupted from the bundle, Donny Elliot leapt back in terror, his feet had become entangled and he'd crashed to the floor, the pain slamming along his spine. As he watched, Sarah's hands clawed free of the plastic bin bag. A squirt of piss leaked into his jeans, his mouth locked open in fright. Her pale arms waved back and forth grasping at the cold air.
'Help me!' she wailed.
Donny shot to his feet, hands jittering in indecision.
Her face emerged, her hair writhing as she grabbed at the gaffa tape around her legs.
Donny Elliot lunged into the back of the van and grabbed the tyre iron from the dusty floor.
Spinning around he saw Sarah on her hands and knees, ripping away the last of the tape.
When he dropped the length of metal onto the floor she snapped her head around, her eyes springing wide as Donny desperately bent down to retrieve the weapon.
In the few seconds it took to grab the makeshift weapon, Sarah was running, her bare feet slapping on the tarmac, her hands waving above her head, the continuous scream unravelling in the still air.
'No!' Donny bellowed before setting off after her. Her hair streamed out behind her, her legs pumping as she tried to escape.
When he was three feet away, he lashed out and heard her grunt as the metal bar slammed into her back. Sarah stumbled forward crashing hard to the ground, Donny landed on her back, and without even thinking he slammed the tyre iron down on the back of her head. Sarah juddered forward; as her face hit the ground, her nose exploded leaving a smear of red on the tarmac.
All rational thought vanished from Donny Elliot's fractured mind; he brought the metal club down for a second time and felt the skull shatter, soft brain tissue squirted upwards spattering his face as Donny spun away, his mouth trailing a gush of hot vomit into the grass.
Wiping a trembling hand across his lips, he looked at the body and more bile sprayed from his slack mouth. Sarah's feet beat an erratic tattoo on the surface of the road; he could see the huge cleft in the back of her head, the dark pool of fresh blood ran slowly towards the roadside ditch.
Then he was on his feet and running for the van. He was three miles away before he realised he had thrown the tyre iron into the long grass that bordered the lane, the tyre iron slick with Sarah's blood and his fingerprints.
Now he tilted his head and took another swig from the bottle of Diamond White Cider. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the blood flowing, the fragments of bone and brain coating his face. Donny shuddered and took another pull from the bottle. When his phone began to drone in his pocket, he yanked it out and peered bleary eyed at the screen. The number had been withheld, he licked his lips in indecision before sliding it to his ear.
'Hello,' he whispered.
'I've been waiting for your call, how did it go?'
Donny felt the relief flood through his system. 'Listen it's gone wrong, I mean, really fucking wrong.'
The voice sighed in disappointment, 'Never mind.'
Donny began to pace back and forward again, his brain full of images of the coppers kicking the door down or worse still Colly Roberts demanding to know what he'd done with his girlfriend.
'No listen, you don't understand. I found her and gave her the shot and she just collapsed...'
'Don't worry, I'm working on it...'
'But she wasn't dead, she wasn't fucking dead!'
'Where is she now?'
'I checked her pulse and there was nothing, so I stuck her in the back of the van and took her to the lake...'
'You took her to the lake!'
Donny winced and held the phone away from his ear. 'Yeah, yeah but when I got there...'
'You moron, don't you watch the news? The bodies you dumped there, the bodies you said would never be found all came floating to the surface like turds in a swimming pool.'
Donny sat down on the sofa with a thump. 'But...'
'And you went back there as if nothing had happened?'
'But I didn't know - I had no idea!'
'That's because you're an idiot.' the voice snapped.
Donny shook his head in distress. 'No listen, as soon as I saw the police tape I scarpered, sharpish, no fucker saw me.'
'And how do you know that?'
Donny opened his mouth to reply and suddenly snapped it closed again. 'I...'
'So what about Clark?'
'That's what I'm telling you, I found somewhere to dump the body but when I got her out of the van she was still alive!'
'Interesting.'
Donny swallowed in disbelief.
'So, what did you do?'
'I had to kill her, I mean, what choice did I have?'
'And then you hid the body right?'
Donny felt his bladder twitch. 'I panicked.'
'Tell me you disposed of the body properly, Donny?'
'I didn't know what to do. She was getting away so I chased her...'
'I'm not interested in that but what did you do after the event?'
Donny could feel the sweat slick beneath his clothes, his hair plastered to his skull. 'I left her,' he mumbled.
'Left her where?'
'In the road.'
This time the voice was laced with disappointment. 'Well, I'd like to say it's been nice doing business with you but I'd only be lying.'
'What do you mean?'
'Goodbye, Donny.'
'No, no wait, you have to help me. I need cash so I can get away from here.'
The voice laughed and Donny cringed. 'I don't think so.'
'If you don't then I'll hand myself into the police and tell them everything.'
The pause on the line seemed to stretch into eternity. 'Tell them what, Donny? I mean, you were the one who killed these people just so you could make a few quid.'
'I...'
'Do you know my name?'
'I...'
'The answer you're looking for is ‘no’. Do you know where I live?'
'Please, I can't stay around here.' Donny pleaded.
'Agreed, so I suggest you get in that van of yours and don't stop driving until you run out of diesel and then find a hole to crawl into...'
'Please, I've helped you - you can't just leave me dangling...'
'Or you could fill the syringe and take the painless way out.'
'You're fucking joking right?'
'Bye, Donny.'
Elliot looked down at the blank screen in disbelief, then he started to cry as he realised there was no way out.
26
Jenna Fotheringay eased around the tight right-hand bend, the trailer rattling behind the Land Rover. Her blond hair tied back in a practical ponytail, a piece of dry straw caught beneath the rubber band that held it in place. She glanced to the left as a flock of Canadian geese came in to land on the huge reservoir, feet splayed as they skimmed across the surface of the water.
Hiding a yawn behind a raised hand she changed into fourth gear and then frowned as she saw the shape lying ahead in the road, it took a cou
ple of seconds for her eyes to tell her brain that it wasn't road kill.
Jenna slammed on the brakes and the trailer clanged behind her, the engine juddered and stalled before she had time to dip the clutch. Her hands fluttered to her mouth and then she was scrabbling the phone free from the pocket of her denim jacket.
She scrolled down the screen, her eyes flicking from the phone to the body that lay face down on the lane littered with dry cowpats.
J, K, she suddenly stopped at ‘L’ it had been over two years since she'd last used the number and the memories came flooding back, taking a deep breath she pressed the button.
27
Lasser knocked on the door and waited as Spenner pulled out a tissue and blew his nose for the hundredth time. The street consisted of council houses on the right and open fields on the left, in the distance Lasser could see the slag heaps rising into a grey sky, the tops bristling with stunted trees.
Spenner slid the tissue back into his pocket. 'It doesn't look as if anyone's home.'
This was the third house they'd tried, Mary Sheldon's place had, as expected, been empty, the grass on the front lawn almost a foot tall.
'They can't all be at work,' Lasser mumbled.
When his phone began to ring, he took a step back and looked up at the bedroom window. Fishing the mobile from his pocket, he frowned when he saw the name flash up at him.
'Hello,' he said as he headed towards the garden gate.
'Is that Sergeant Lasser?'
'Jenna?'
He heard her gasp in relief.
'Is everything OK?' he asked.
'I'm out in the van and there's a body lying in the road,' she whispered, her voice tight with emotion.
'Where are you?'
'About half a mile from the house.'
Lasser blinked, the Fotheringay family lived out at the base of the Pennines on a huge arable farm.
'What's the name of the road, Jenna?'
'Black Sheep Lane.'
'And you can see the body now.'
'She's just lying there and I can see blood.'
He heard the barely controlled panic that was threatening to balloon into outright terror.
'Black Sheep Lane you say?'
'Yes.'
'Right, Jenna, wait exactly where you are I'm on my way.'
'Please hurry,' she hissed.
'Quick as I can,' Lasser ended the call. 'Spenner, come on we have to go!'
Spenner turned from the front of the house. 'But don't you want to try next door?'
'No I don't, now get in the car.
Spenner frowned as he stomped down the path to the gate, by the time he climbed into the passenger seat Lasser was revving the engine his face in lockdown.
It took twenty-five minutes to reach Black Sheep Lane and as soon as Lasser rounded the tight right-hander, he spotted the Land Rover parked a hundred yards away, the hazard lights flashing on the trailer. Lasser pulled out and drove past the Land Rover, catching a glimpse of Jenna's terrified face as he passed. It was just as she had said, the body lay by the side of the road the bloodstain from her head russet red against the dull grey tarmac.
'Right, Spenner, get onto SOCO tell them to send someone out and get an ambulance while you're at it.'
'Will do.'
Clicking the door open Lasser looked to where the Land Rover was parked; he could see a pale face behind the wheel. Raising a hand, he gave a wave and then Jenna Fotheringay opened the door and climbed out.
'Give me a minute, Jenna!' he shouted.
He saw her nod as he turned and walked towards the body, grimacing when he saw the state of the back of her head. Crouching to his haunches he studied the wound, slivers of skull were visible through the blood and hair, the grey matter beneath looked like scrambled eggs that had turned in the sun. She was barefoot and wearing a short denim skirt and a dark blue hooded top. Lasser looked at the surface of the road where two large cowpats had been flattened to the tarmac he could see the tyre marks running through the centre of the brown mess.
'They're on their way.'
Lasser looked up - Spenner was staring down at the body his eyes wide and glassy. 'Right, Spenner, you stay here while I go and have a word with our friend.'
'Will do, sir,' he mumbled his lip twitched, his eyes still locked on the body.
'Spenner, are you alright?'
At first the young PC didn't reply and then he shook himself and dragged his eyes to Lasser's face. 'I'm fine,' he said in a monotone voice.
'Good man,' Lasser slapped his shoulder as he walked past.
It had been over two years since he'd last seen Jenna Fotheringay, he remembered her eyes staring at him wide with terror as the gunshots rang out across the open moorland. He remembered the late DCI Simms as he toppled sideways, his chequered flat cap flying from his head as the bullet ripped through his skull.
'How are you, Jenna?' he said with a half-smile.
'Is she dead?' she asked her face pale with shock.
'I'm afraid so, love.'
Jenna gave her bottom lip a battering with her teeth. 'I came around the corner and she was just lying there and I didn't know what to do.'
'You did the right thing.'
'But maybe I could have helped her?' she turned her anguished gaze towards him.
'Believe me, Jenna, it wouldn't have made any difference, she's been dead for a few hours.'
Just then an ancient looking Land Rover came clattering around the corner. Jenna turned and waved as the van bounced up the curb. When old Ronnie Fotheringay climbed out Lasser looked on in amazement. 'Is that your grandad?'
Jenna sniffed and smiled, 'Yeah.'
Ronnie clomped towards them his hob-nailed boots clacking on the surface of the road.
'Ow do, lad, I haven't seen you in a while.'
He was looking well considering the last time Lasser had seen him he'd been in hospital after suffering a heart attack. In fact, Lasser had found him lying in the middle of a country lane exactly like this one.
'I'm fine, Ronnie, you're looking well.'
'Never better, lad,' he said as he slipped an arm around Jenna's shoulder. 'This looks a bad do,' he nodded to where Spenner stood over the body in the road.
Lasser followed his gaze. 'I'm afraid so, Ronnie.'
Ronnie squinted. 'Is it a wench?'
Lasser slid his hands into his pockets; it was like he was having a conversation with some Dickensian character. 'Yes, Ronnie...'
'Has she been hit by a car?'
'Afraid not.'
Jenna started to attack a fingernail with her teeth. 'Oh God, this is terrible.'
'Listen, Jenna, you don't have to hang around here.'
'But...'
'Honestly you called it in but I presume you didn't see anyone driving away?'
She shook her head her ponytail whipped from one shoulder to the other. 'No, the road was empty.'
'Right then, you can go.'
'Are you sure, I mean...'
'I'm positive, there's nothing you can do here.'
She looked at Lasser and nodded. 'If you're sure.'
'Positive and thanks for calling us so quickly.'
'I don't know why I saved your number...'
'I'm just glad you did.' Lasser said as he clicked open the door of the Land Rover and Jenna clambered inside.
'By the way have you seen anything of Patrick Fossey lately?'
Jenna shook her head. 'Not much, he's working away at the moment but he still phones and we keep in touch by email.'
'What about the book you were working on together?'
He saw the flicker of excitement in her eyes and then she looked through the windscreen at the body in the road and a flush of colour rose in her pale cheeks. 'It should be coming out in a couple of months.'
Lasser smiled. 'That's great news.'
Ronnie dragged a roll up from the top pocket of his dark blue boiler suit. 'She's at Uni now aren't you, love?'
Jenna nodded. 'I'm
only home for Easter.'
'Well, it's great to see you both looking so well, but I'll have to crack on.'
Jenna started the engine. 'Thanks for getting here so quickly.'
Lasser closed the door and slapped a hand on the roof. 'You take care, Jenna, and say hi to Fossey when you see him.'
'I will.'
He watched as she drove away giving the body a wide berth as she drove past. 'Right, Ronnie, I'd best get on.'
'Aye, lad, no problem.' Ronnie said as he hobbled back towards his van.
As Lasser reached the body, Ronnie drove past and raised a hand, the Land Rover belching diesel fumes into the air.
'What a waste,' Spenner said.
Lasser crouched down by the side of the body and threw him a sidelong glance. 'When the cavalry arrive I want everyone kept away from the cow shit.'
'Cow shit?'
Lasser pointed to the flattened mess in the road. 'Someone left those tyre tracks and you never know they could belong to the vehicle that was used to dump the body.'
'Right.'
Reaching down Lasser lifted the corner of her denim jacket and checked for an inside pocket, when he had no luck he scuttled around and tried the other side grinning when his hand slid a small leopard print purse free.
Clicking open the clasp, he pulled out the plastic Primark store card.
'Have you found something?' Spenner asked.
'Sarah Clark,' he blinked at the card. 'Twelve A, Roland House, that's on Millers Lane estate isn't it?'
'I'm not sure, the address sound familiar but...'
'What would someone from Millers Lane be doing all the way out here?'
'Perhaps she was killed somewhere else and dumped here?'
Lasser looked up as a cow popped its head over the dry stone wall that bordered the lane, steam blasting from its huge nostrils. 'No, she was killed here,' he looked along the lane. 'But why was she barefoot?'
Vanished Beneath: DS Lasser six (The Lasser series Book 6) Page 7