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

by Robin Roughley

  Plucking it free he had another quick look left and right before retreating into the house. Closing the door, Albie made his way back to the small lounge and sat back down on the lumpy sofa. Opening the bag, he frowned before pulling out the empty McDonalds burger box and the plastic drinks cup. The brown envelope lay at the bottom and Albie slid it free before dropping the bag onto the floor.

  As soon as he opened the envelope his eyes widened in surprise, pulling out the stack of twenty-pound notes he riffled through them, his tongue slid out and licked across his dry lips as he reached five hundred.

  Albie looked up as if he expected someone to come crashing through the front window dressed head to toe in black with a gun strapped across their chest. After twenty long seconds he tipped the envelope, the small clear bag dropped into his lap. Picking it up, he gave it a shake, smiling as the white powder slid left to right.

  When his phone began to drone, he slid the packet into his pocket before answering the call.

  'Mr Ross, what do you say, can we do business?'

  'What did you have in mind?'

  As the voice continued to talk, the smile on Albie's face grew wider.

  50

  'Medea, what a pleasant surprise!' James Drake beamed out at her from the doorway of the large bungalow.

  'Hello, Mr Drake, I...'

  Drake flapped a hand and glanced at Lasser. 'You can drop the 'Mr' James will do just fine.'

  For some unfathomable reason Medea felt a blush creep across her cheeks. 'I...'

  'Come in, come in,' he stepped back and ushered them through the door before leading them into the huge kitchen. 'Now then, aren't you going to introduce us?' he smiled at Lasser.

  Medea pushed her hair behind her ears. 'This is my partner Lasser.'

  Drake thrust out a hand. 'No first name?'

  'Lasser will do just fine,' he said as he shook Drakes hand.

  'Lasser it is then, now, what can I do for you?'

  'We're looking for Emma,' Medea said.

  For a couple of seconds a look of sadness flickered across the retired doctor's face. 'Ah so, she is in the area?'

  'I'm sorry, Mr...'

  'James,' he interrupted.

  'James,' Medea replied the blush deepening. 'Emma came up from London two days ago and she's been staying at our house.'

  'I said as much,' Drake mumbled.

  'Excuse me I don't follow,' Lasser said with a frown.

  Drake pulled out a chair and sat down. 'One of her ex-colleagues called around earlier today looking for her. I mean, I didn't even know she was up here and...'

  'This colleague was it a man or woman?'

  Drake blinked up at Lasser. 'He said they used to work for the same graphic design company and he was up here on business.'

  Medea looked at Lasser; she could see the look of concern etched on his features, the sight of it made her feel sick.

  'Did he leave his name?'

  The old man shook his head. 'Well, no and to be honest I didn't ask,' he paused and looked back and forth between Medea and Lasser, 'Look is something the matter?'

  Medea rubbed at her arms as if she'd suddenly caught an icy chill. 'I left Emma at the house while I nipped to the shops. I was only gone for half an hour but when I got back she'd vanished.'

  Drake smiled nervously. 'That sounds a little melodramatic, Medea.'

  'I've tried her phone and she isn't picking up.'

  'Perhaps her battery died?'

  'But why would she go in the first place? When I left, she was preparing a salad, we were going to stay in and relax.'

  'Well, perhaps she went to call on one of your neighbours...'

  Medea shook her head, her long hair swaying. 'The couple next door are away on holiday and besides it still doesn't explain why she would ignore her phone.'

  Drake folded his arms and scowled.

  'This ex-colleague did he say what he wanted with Emma?' Lasser asked.

  'He said she'd told him to look her up if he was ever in the area.'

  'And he was here on business?'

  'That's what he said.'

  'Can you describe him for me, Mr Drake?'

  'Look, I don't mean to be rude but don't you think it would be better if we called the police?'

  Lasser pulled out his warrant card. 'That'll be me, James.'

  Drake's eyes sprang wide. 'I see, well he was about thirty and quite tall with short mousey brown hair.'

  'What was he wearing?'

  Drake pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. 'Black jeans and a white shirt, oh, and he had these red and grey walking boots on.'

  'And did he speak with a southern accent?'

  'Well I suppose so, I mean, he definitely wasn't from these parts.'

  'Do you know how he got here?'

  Drake rubbed a hand across his eyes as if flummoxed by the questions. 'Er, I'm not really sure.'

  'He arrived on foot?'

  Drake looked towards the kitchen window; a robin was perched on the garden spade he'd left in the flowerbed. Then he snapped his head around and clicked his fingers. 'There was a red Jaguar parked on the street and I know it doesn't belong to any of the neighbours.'

  Lasser smiled. 'Good, now when you spoke to the man did you get the impression he knew Emma well?'

  The frown was back. 'Well, all he said was that they worked together,' he paused for a second, 'though he did say he knew about me and Emma not really speaking.'

  'Did he say how he knew?' Lasser asked.

  Medea shuffled her feet, the anxiety building.

  'He said Emma had mentioned it to him. I mean, he seemed decent enough...' his voice drifted to a halt, his eyes agitated.

  'Right, Mr Drake, thanks for your help.'

  Drake stood up. 'What happens now?'

  'Well, hopefully this has all been some kind of misunderstanding.'

  'But you don't think so?'

  Lasser tick-tocked his head from side to side. 'Tell me, Mr Drake, do you know if Emma was seeing anyone?'

  Drake picked up his gardening gloves from the table and rung them between his hands. 'I'm sure you already know that Emma and I have had our disagreements and to be honest I'm the last person she would confide in about issues of the heart.'

  'That's a no then?'

  Drake nodded sadly before turning to Medea. 'You've always been a good friend to Emma, has she never mentioned anything to you about a boyfriend?'

  'I got the impression she was single at the moment.'

  The old man scratched at his chin. 'It's all my fault, I should never have tried to force her into doing something she had no interest in.'

  Medea placed a hand on Drake's arm. 'Emma loves you, she's just stubborn.'

  He flickered a smile. 'I'm afraid we both are,' he cleared his throat. 'You see the thing is I kept meaning to get in touch, you know offer an olive branch but time went by and...' he shrugged as if the rest were self-explanatory.

  'I'm sure she'll come around soon.' Medea gave his hand a squeeze.

  When she saw the tears slide from his eyes Medea took a backward step.

  'That's part of the problem, Medea; I don't have the luxury of time.'

  She blinked and swallowed down the sense of dread. 'I'm sorry I don't understand.'

  'One of the benefits of being a GP is that you tend to pick up on things quickly. Unfortunately this time I wasn't quick enough,' he paused and wiped the tears away with the back of his right hand. 'I have melanoma, rather advanced I'm afraid.'

  Lasser slid his hands into his trouser pockets. Medea fluttered a hand to her mouth in shock.

  'Oh God!'

  Drake checked his watch as if suddenly realising that time was finite. 'They gave me six months but that was almost a year ago so I'm doing better than expected.'

  'Why didn't you tell me I could have got in touch with Emma?' Medea asked the tears shimmering in her eyes.

  Drake shrugged. 'Because I'm a bloody idiot, Medea, besides I almost ma
naged to convince myself that it wasn't true, that I had all the time in the world.'

  'I...'

  Drake grabbed hold of Medea's wrist. 'The important thing is finding Emma, nothing else matters,' he turned his pleading gaze to Lasser. 'Please.'

  Lasser nodded and broke the golden rule. 'Don't worry, James, we'll find her.'

  The old man smiled in relief.

  Back in the car, Medea dabbed at her eyes with a piece of tissue as Lasser stabbed at the buttons on his phone.

  'Who are you ringing?' she asked with a sniff.

  'Susan Coyle.'

  'But...?

  ‘Hand me Emma’s purse,’ he said as he tapped at his phone.

  Medea fumbled in her handbag before handing it over.

  'Susan, are you on duty?' he asked as he flicked on the loudspeaker.

  'I'm still at the station still going through the missing persons list.'

  'I need a favour.'

  'No problem.'

  'Missing person, name Emma Drake,' he yanked out one of the credit cards. 'Middle name, Catherine with a C'

  'Last known address?'

  Lasser looked at Medea with a raised eyebrow she looked distraught. 'I don't know it,' she whispered.

  'Not known,' he said. 'But I have her credit cards here so you'll have to trace her through the bank.'

  'OK.'

  'We do know she's been living in London and that she worked for a large graphic design company.'

  'Card details?'

  Lasser squinted at the card as he read out the information.

  'Right, I'll get onto it right away.'

  'One more thing, we need to know if she was living with anyone or if she had a regular boyfriend, I have a description and possible make of car.'

  'Fire away.'

  Half a minute later Lasser ended the call and sat back in the seat.

  'Do you think the man who came to see Mr Drake has anything to do with it?' Medea asked, although she already knew the answer.

  'It could be something and nothing but if we put the wheels in motion then it could save time and if she turns up then there's no real harm done.'

  Medea tossed the tissue onto the dashboard. 'She wouldn't just disappear without saying something, Lasser, she's not like that.'

  Taking hold of her hand, he smiled. 'Don't worry we'll get it sorted.'

  Medea looked back at the bungalow. 'Why didn't he tell her he was ill?'

  'Like he said, he's stubborn.'

  'Well, I think it's selfish. I mean, how will Emma react when she finds he's kept something like this from her?'

  'That's for later, Med, let's just concentrate on finding her first,' he said as he started the car.

  Medea nodded.

  'You never know, she might even be waiting for us when we get home.'

  She smiled nervously. 'You think?'

  'There's only one way to find out,' he said as he pulled away from the front of the house.

  51

  Bannister had one eye on the clock as he waited for the room to fill. With everyone seated, he scanned the faces and frowned.

  'Has anyone seen Lasser?'

  People looked at one another, heads were shaken, a couple if individuals said, 'No, sir.'

  Bannister sighed. 'Right, let's get started. DI Cooper, can you provide us with an update please?'

  Cooper rose to his feet. 'The translator should be here within the next half an hour, sir.'

  'What about the rest of Millers Lane, did you have any luck?'

  'Not yet, sir, but we still have a few individuals to speak to.'

  'Right, I want it sorted by the end of the day.'

  'Yes, sir.' Cooper said.

  Bannister flapped a hand and the DI sat down.

  'What about the girl, can we put a name to her yet?' he asked looking around the room.

  Spenner stuck up a hand and Bannister nodded.

  'Perhaps Donald Elliot will be able to tell us her name, sir.'

  Bannister perched on the edge of the desk. 'I called at the hospital last night and Elliot was on his way to theatre to have his nose fixed. Now, perhaps he can put a name to the girl but he's hardly going to be in a rush to spill the beans is he?'

  'But we know he was the one that dumped the bodies...'

  'No, Spenner, we can tie him to the murder of Sarah Clark but as yet we have no proof that he was the one who killed the three we found in the water.'

  Spenner frowned and folded his arms, 'Right, sir.'

  'That’s why we need to find out who she is, the more information we have the more chance there is of linking Elliot to the crimes.'

  Bob Fletcher flicked up a hand. 'What about the Mellor brothers, are we saying they're involved in some way?'

  Bannister perched his backside on the corner of the desk. 'We have a good idea that they're dealing, though whether or not they're involved in all this is as yet unknown. Though Rourke and Smith are keeping tabs on them as we speak, hopefully, they might get jumpy and slip up though to be honest I'm not holding my breath.'

  Fletcher nodded and crossed his legs.

  'So far we have Elliot in custody which is good, but we still don't have a clue as to the identity of the person supplying the goods. Now, maybe Elliot himself has been playing in his bedroom with his chemistry set, but I can't see it myself, so, we need to double our efforts before he finds a replacement for Elliot.'

  'Do we know what Elliot was doing at Mary Sheldon's place?' Sally Wright asked.

  Bannister shrugged. 'We know his van was shagged and his ex-girlfriend had kicked him into touch. Now, the fact that he chose to break into Sheldon's house means he knew the place was empty so that's another link between him and one of the bodies in the lake.'

  Sally nodded thoughtfully.

  'Right, people, the evidence is stacking up but we need more, we need definite links and the only way we'll find them is by getting out there and looking, so, off you go.'

  Bannister turned and looked at the images on the whiteboard; he could hear the sound of shuffling feet as people made their way to the door.

  The images of Crank and Sheldon now had their names tagged beneath. He moved forward and studied the photograph of the young girl, the short blond hair swept back from her narrow face, the milk white eyes staring off into infinity.

  When the door slammed, he looked over his shoulder, Lasser stood in the doorway looking sheepish.

  Bannister looked around the room at the empty chairs. 'As you can see you've missed all the fun and games.'

  'Sorry, I...'

  Bannister snapped up a hand. 'Don't tell me, the dog ate your homework?

  'I've got a problem.'

  'At least we agree on something, Sergeant.'

  'No wait...'

  'I told you the debrief was at eight, didn't I tell you that?'

  'Well yeah, but...'

  'Everyone else managed to make it on time, even Bob Fletcher and he's always bloody late.'

  'Emma Drake's gone missing.'

  'Who the hell is Emma Drake?'

  'The woman who's being staying with me and Medea.'

  Bannister folded his arms and gave a shake of the head. 'OK come on, what did you do?'

  'Me?'

  'Couldn't keep your hands to yourself, eh, barged in accidentally when she was taking a shower?'

  'Sod off, this has nothing to do with me.'

  Bannister raised an eyebrow and pointed at Lasser. 'One of these days Medea will see straight through you...'

  'So you keep saying but this is serious.'

  Bannister sat down at the desk and shrugged. 'Come on then let's hear it.'

  By the time Lasser had finished explaining about Emma's sudden disappearance Bannister had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and straightened his tie.

  'And what are you doing about it?'

  'I asked Susan Coyle to look into it, I...'

  'The Susan Coyle who is busy working on finding a name for the missing girl,' he hooked a thumb o
ver his shoulder at the whiteboard.

  'Yeah but...'

  'The same Susan Coyle who is working on a triple murder investigation?'

  Lasser sighed as he waited for Bannister to explode.

  'Look, if I didn't think this was serious...'

  'Serious!' Bannister sprang up from his seat, his face going from pale to bright red in a nanosecond. 'Four dead bodies is serious, Sergeant, a woman throwing a hissy fit is not!'

  'But that's just it she didn't throw a...'

  'Enough!' Bannister yelled the veins in his temple pulsating with anger. 'You do not use valuable resources to track down a woman who could have decided she didn't like your cooking and buggered off back to London.'

  'There's nothing wrong with my cooking,' Lasser mumbled.

  Bannister slumped back down into the chair. 'I'm serious, Sergeant, you give this case your full attention do you understand?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'You do not go running off to hold Medea's hand.'

  'Alright I get it.'

  'I bloody hope so, Lasser, because if you fuck me about...'

  'I said I get it,' Lasser snapped.

  Bannister grunted. 'Fine, now you can come with me while we have a word with Mr Iknoff and try and act like a professional for a change.'

  'I always act like a professional.'

  Bannister grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. 'That's your problem, Sergeant, everything is an act with you.'

  Even with the translator present, Peter Iknoff was still playing dumb. Every time Bannister asked a question the man would look bemused as the woman translated.

  'I'm sorry but he says he doesn't understand the question.' Her name was Anna she looked to be about forty; her fair straight hair brushed the collar of her denim jacket.

  'What do you mean he doesn't understand, it's simple enough, I want to know why he had a large quantity of ‘class A’ drugs hidden in the bottom of the wardrobe?'

  'And that's what I asked, but he says he doesn't know what you are talking about, according to him he only moved into the property three weeks ago, and the tablets were already there...'

  'Bollocks!' Bannister spat before pointing a finger at Iknoff. 'You're a liar; now tell me who gave you the gear?'

  Anna sighed and translated the question; Iknoff lifted his shoulders and shook his head before replying.