Vanished Beneath: DS Lasser six (The Lasser series Book 6)

by Robin Roughley

  'Maybe the killer took her shoes?' Spenner offered.

  'Took her shoes but left a purse behind with identification inside?' When Lasser saw the trickle of dried blood on the outside of her left thigh, he frowned and leaned in for a closer look. The puncture mark was small, the skin rose in a tiny lump, then his brain lurched. 'Fucker!'

  Spenner frowned. 'What's the matter?'

  Lasser stood up. 'Someone stuck a needle in her.'

  Spenner whipped out his tissue and blew his nose. 'But...'

  'Look at her leg, Spenner, she comes from Hindley we know that because of the address.'

  'So?'

  'The three bodies we pulled from the water had all been drugged right?'

  'Well yeah, but...'

  'We know whoever gave them the stuff kept a close eye on them, kept them inside somewhere.'

  'If that's the case then what is she doing all the way out here?'

  Lasser pulled out his cigarettes and sparked up. 'Think about it; say Sarah Clark was another guinea pig...'

  'Guinea pig?'

  Lasser flapped a hand and Spenner closed his mouth.

  'He follows the same pattern; he offers the punter a free shot, something that'll blow their bloody minds and they can't wait to give it a go. He's in a flat or a house and he slides the needle in and then sits back to see what will happen.'

  Spenner slid the tissue back into his pocket. 'But you've already said she was killed here, and if that's right then what were they doing driving around in the middle of nowhere. I mean, what would be the point, if she was alive then obviously the drug worked so why kill her?'

  Lasser blew a blast of smoke into a cloud of midges. 'Because he thought she was dead.'

  Spenner shuffled his feet a frown corrugated his brow. 'I don't get it?'

  'He gives her the drug right?'

  Spenner nodded.

  'Like the others she collapses and he shrugs his shoulders and says hey ho another stiff to get rid of. So, he bundles her in the back of the van...'

  'How do you know it was a van?'

  'The tyre tracks in the shit, look at the width of the tread.'

  Spenner glanced at the dried out cow pats and nodded. 'I suppose so.'

  'Now, he won't go back to his usual dumping ground too risky, so, he decides to try and put some distance between the other bodies.'

  'But...'

  'By this time he’s probably shitting himself, all it takes is some interested plod to pull him over for a dodgy brake light and he's fucked.'

  'So, he panics and pulls over here?'

  Lasser nodded. 'And then when he opens the back door - out she pops.'

  'But...'

  'Imagine it, he's here to dump a body and then he finds she's alive and kicking, now what would you do in that situation?'

  Spenner scratched his chin in thought. 'But smashing her head open, I mean, it's a bit extreme.'

  'You think extreme bothers this tosser? He's already dumped three bodies so we know he doesn't give a shit about these people.'

  'I guess.'

  'Right, so she comes flying out of the back of the van and sets off running.'

  'But how do you know she ran, I mean, she could have attacked the bloke instead?'

  'Spenner, she woke up in the back of a van, her head would have been mashed with the drug, more than likely she'd have been terrified. Besides, the wound is to the back of her head, so it stands to reason she was trying to flee the scene, he chases her and wallop.'

  Suddenly the sound of sirens buzzed in the distance.

  Lasser flicked the cigarette over the wall before popping a mint into his mouth. 'Want one?' he asked.

  'Thanks,' Spenner pulled one free and slid it between his chapped lips.

  Bannister nodded as Lasser explained his theory. 'You have been busy, Sergeant.'

  'So, what do you think?'

  They were parked by the side of the road in Bannister's Audi watching as the ambulance pulled away, Doc Shannon in pursuit in his rusting Land Rover. Half a dozen officers were walking along the roadside searching in the long grass for clues.

  'I think you could be right.'

  Lasser grinned. 'So, what do you want to do?'

  Bannister drummed his hands on the steering wheel. 'How did you go on at Mary Sheldon's place?'

  'We were knocking on doors when Jenna Fotheringay rang so we headed straight out here.'

  'OK, for now I want you to concentrate on Sarah Clark, you have a possible address so get over there and check it out.'

  'Do you want me to take Spe...?'

  'Sir!'

  Bannister looked up PC Spenner was waving his hand towards the car his face alight with urgency. Then he started to jab a finger down into the long grass.

  'Come on, Lasser, before he pitches a fit.'

  Climbing from the car they hurried over, by the time they reached him the other searchers had gathered round.

  'Right, Spenner, what have you got?'

  Spenner pointed down into the grass, the tyre iron glinted up at them, russet red with dark hairs stuck to the metal.

  28

  Andrew Forbes walked out of the guesthouse and slid the zip up on his leather jacket. The room had been poky the furniture all dark wood, the bedding busy with a garish floral pattern that had made his eyes ache.

  Taking a deep breath, he trotted down the steps and turned right walking past the local college with the huge pit wheel in front. The streets were full of people milling about looking in shop windows, Andrew glanced at a couple of girls sashayed past, long tanned legs on view, hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

  Checking the traffic, he crossed the road and headed over to a man who was standing at a small kiosk selling papers and magazines.

  'Excuse me.'

  The man turned and smiled. 'What can I get you, mate?'

  'I'm looking for the library.'

  'You're not from around here?' The man asked as he straightened a stack of newspapers.

  'That obvious is it?'

  'Cockney?'

  'Something like that.'

  'Right well, go to the top of the road and turn left Library Street is the first on the right.'

  Forbes nodded. 'Thanks for your help.'

  'No worries, pal.'

  Andrew set off, a spring in his step a plan in his head.

  29

  Lasser swung into the small car park behind the drive-in McDonalds; the bushes that bordered the patch of tarmac were littered with empty boxes and burger wrappers.

  As he opened the door a kid flew past on a mountain bike his feet lashing at the peddles as if his life depended on it.

  Lasser looked up at the new build flats; they'd been up for about four years now and were already showing signs of wear and tear. He counted half a dozen doors covered with galvanised metal sheets; all of them had been sprayed with graffiti. Another had a crude image of a giant cock and balls scrawled on the surface.

  Lasser beeped on the alarm and headed over to the stairwell of Rodney House. A couple of teenagers eyed him as he walked past, then he stopped and turned back towards them.

  'Do either of you know Sarah Clark?'

  One of the lads shrugged, the other spat onto the ground.

  'Right thanks for your help, lads,' Lasser said as he started to climb the flight of concrete stairs.

  'Pig.'

  Lasser leaned over the balcony. 'Oink-oink and that means if either of you touch the car I'll break your legs.'

  The two boys looked up at him in shock and Lasser pointed a finger down at them.

  'Take me seriously, lads,' he smiled before continuing to climb.

  Walking along the landing he stopped when he came to the door of number 12 A. Pressing the bell, Lasser looked down over the balcony, the two yobs from the stairwell were walking across the car park, he watched as they slouched past the Audi heading inevitably towards the drive-in McDonalds.

  When he heard the door open he turned to find a man loo
king out at him, his face scarred with old acne, his hair shaved closed to the bone.

  'What do you want?'

  Lasser flipped out his warrant card. 'Does Sarah Clark live here?'

  'She's not in.'

  'I know.'

  The man went to close the door and Lasser thrust out a hand. 'Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing here?'

  'Not interested.'

  'What's your name?'

  'Roberts.'

  Lasser clicked his fingers. 'I thought I recognised the face, you're Colly...'

  'What of it?'

  'You're a drug dealer aren't you, Mr Roberts.'

  Colly's eyes narrowed. 'Piss off I don't deal drugs.'

  Lasser sighed. 'And what are you doing here?'

  Colly Roberts hitched up his jeans. 'I live here.'

  'So you're Sarah's what, boyfriend, husband,' Lasser smiled, 'pimp?'

  Colly's face darkened. 'Sarah's no slapper.'

  'Tell me, Colly, when was the last time you saw Sarah?'

  'I can't remember.'

  Lasser took a step forward. 'You can't remember the last time you saw the love of your life?'

  'Look what's this all about?' Colly asked, his hand resting on top of the doorframe, the bicep bulging.

  'Is it alright if I come in, Mr Roberts?'

  'No it fucking isn't.'

  'Would that be because you have something to hide?'

  'Go away and get a warrant because there's no way you're coming in here without one.'

  'Tell me, Colly, do you know if Sarah was seeing someone on the side?'

  Roberts’s narrowed eyes suddenly sprang wide. 'What are you on about, you tosser?'

  'Look, I know you're deeply in love, I mean, anyone can see that but...'

  'Fuck off!'

  Lasser wedged his foot in the door as Colly tried to slam it in his face.

  'Don't be like that, Colly, I'm trying to help you here.'

  'Some fucking help!'

  'Well, was she taking anything?'

  'You what?'

  'Let's face it you've been done a few times for dealing weed and pills, so, did she help herself to your stash?'

  'I've told you I don't deal anymore.'

  'I bet you don't deal any less either.'

  'I...'

  'You'd better brace yourself from some bad news, Colly.'

  For the first time the man in the doorway looked unsure of himself. 'Bad news?'

  'Look, are you going to let me in or not?'

  'You tell me what you mean by bad news?'

  'We've found a body...'

  Colly's hand slid from the top of the door. 'What the fuck do you mean, you've found a body?'

  'What was she wearing the last time you saw her?'

  'I...'

  'Short denim skirt and dark blue hooded top?'

  Colly licked his lips. 'Is this some kind of fucking joke, pal, because if it is...?'

  'No joke, we found a leopard patterned purse in her pocket, it had a Primark store card inside with her name and address that's why I'm here.'

  'No way,' Colly shook his head in disbelief.

  'Did she shop at the store?'

  'You're wrong it isn't Sarah.'

  'Shoulder length black hair?'

  'Go away, I don't want to listen to your shit!'

  'Alright, Colly mate,' a man said as he squeezed past Lasser on the balcony.

  Colly Roberts ignored him completely.

  Lasser waited until the man was twenty feet away. 'What about it, Colly, are you going to let me in?'

  Colly Roberts stepped to one side as a solitary tear slid from his left eye.

  30

  Donny Elliot withdrew the hundred quid from the cash machine, looking furtively over his shoulder as he thrust the cash into the pocket of his jeans. Crossing the road, he clambered behind the wheel of the transit and turned the key. The engine rumbled and died, Donny licked his lips, and tried again, the starter motor whined, the cab of the transit rattled.

  'For fucks sake!' he screamed before hammering his hands on the wheel. 'Come on, you twat!' he snarled as he pumped the gas pedal. The engine spluttered, the red battery light flashed on the dashboard as the engine died altogether.

  Donny spun in his seat and glanced at the bin bags in the back of the transit, it had taken less than ten minutes to gather his possessions, clothes mainly and his small bag of weed.

  Taking a huge breath, he tried to calm his jittering nerves but his mind kept throwing out small startling images. A faceless copper bending to retrieve the tyre iron covered in Sarah Clark's blood, then an army of plods arriving on his doorstep ending with a six by eight-prison cell with no window and a stainless steel toilet in the corner.

  Closing his eyes Donny prayed before turning the key again, this time the engine didn't even attempt to start. Elliot leaned forward and banged his head against the steering wheel, once, twice, three times and then he slammed the door open and jumped from the van.

  A girl was walking past pushing a buggy with a little kid inside; she gave Donny a wary look before hurrying away, the kids legs dangled, tiny Nike trainers kicking back and forth.

  Elliot stood in the patch of fading sunlight and tried to think. He needed somewhere to lie low for a few days until he could get his head sorted, trouble was his mind seemed incapable of offering any ideas.

  Then an image of Beth came into his head and he grimaced, her fat face and frumpy body wrapped in a pair of stretch leggings and tiny T-shirt, the fat spilling out over the waistband in white rolls.

  'Fuck it,' Donny spat before pulling out his phone, beggars can't be choosers, surely she'd let him stay for a few days, after all he was father to her two kids and that had to count for something. Slapping the mobile to his head, he waited for her to pick up.

  31

  By the time Lasser left the flat, he was actually feeling bad for Colly Roberts. The big man had sat on the sofa and cried like a baby. He'd been with Sarah for three months which to someone like Colly amounted to a serious commitment. Lasser had discovered that Sarah had a couple of sisters and one brother, Colly said her mother lived in Bolton with a 'Paki.' He'd spat out the word as if he'd just swallowed a turd.

  'How did she die?' he'd eventually asked.

  'We're not sure yet, Colly.'

  'Was it an overdose?' he asked, a staffie came wandering in from the kitchen and leapt onto Colly's knee. The big man rubbed one of the dog's mangled ears between finger and thumb.

  'I thought you said Sarah wasn't on drugs?'

  Colly shrugged. 'She used to be but she'd been clean for months.'

  Lasser leaned forward in his chair; the dog eyed him up, curling its top lip to show a set of yellowing teeth. Lasser eased back slowly into the chair. 'If she was back on the gear where would she go to get a fix?'

  'I'm telling you she didn't touch that shit anymore!'

  'What about weed?'

  Colly flicked him a glance. 'We had the odd joint but nothing else.'

  'Fine, but who did she used to get her stuff off?'

  Colly looked at the floor when he looked up Lasser could see a mean glint in his eye. 'I don't know.'

  Lasser tilted his head. 'Are you sure about that, Colly?'

  Roberts looked away. 'Positive.'

  Lasser didn't believe a word. 'Right then, as soon as I know anything more I'll let you know.'

  'Can I see her?'

  Lasser pushed himself up from the chair keeping a wary eye on the dog. 'Not yet, Colly.'

  'But...'

  'We'll need someone to identify the body but it has to be a family member.'

  Colly sighed. 'I'll give one of her sisters a call.'

  'Tell them to contact the station ASAP and we can get it sorted.'

  Colly remained seated as Lasser left the flat.

  As he walked across the car park he saw the scatterings of French fries on the roof of his car the two teenagers were nowhere in sight. Climbing into the Audi, he started
the engine and drove off the car park, the fries sliding from the roof, the hungry gulls descending.

  Twenty minutes later Lasser slid through the door of the incident room, the place was packed. Bannister stood at the front of the room looking annoyed.

  'Right, we still need to put a name to this one,' he tapped a finger against the image of the young girl with the blond hair. 'We know the man was Joseph Crank and the woman Mary Sheldon, but we need to know who they were getting their gear from. So come on, Cooper, Chadwick, what have you managed to find out?'

  Both men stood up at once and looked at one another, then Cooper nodded and sat back down, Bannister sighed.

  Chadwick cleared his throat. 'We've spoken to half a dozen suspected dealers from the Millers Lane estate; they all insist they don't deal and they also said they'd never heard of either Crank or Sheldon.'

  'Hardly surprising, Chadwick.'

  'No, sir, we searched all six houses and...'

  'What did you find?'

  'Four of the properties were clean; the fifth had a small amount of cannabis but not enough to be classed as dealing.'

  'And number six?'

  'Cocaine, amphetamines and a substantial amount of baked heroin, sir,' Chadwick looked pleased with himself.

  'Do we have a name?'

  Chadwick dipped a hand inside his jacket and pulled out a notepad before flicking through the pages. 'I think it's pronounced Iknoff, sir.'

  Bannister frowned. 'Polish?'

  'Yes, sir, we've brought him in for questioning but we're waiting for a translator.'

  'I take it his English isn't good?'

  'One or two words but he knows how to eff and blind well enough.'

  'And how long before this translator gets here?'

  'First thing in the morning, sir.'

  'Right, let me know when they arrive.'

  Chadwick nodded, 'Of course, sir.'

  'Now, the girl who was found out near Rivington, we're working on the assumption that her name was Sarah Clark. The weapon found at the scene has been sent to forensics for further investigation and we're hopeful that it should give us a pointer to the person responsible.'

  'So, we're linking her death with the bodies from the lake?' Spenner asked without raising his hand.

  One or two of those closest to him shuffled their chairs a few inches to one side. Spenner ignored them, he sat facing forward, arms folded, bright red nose glowing like a beacon.