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

by Robin Roughley

  Wandering into the kitchen, he flicked on the light and gave the room the once over before moving to the foot of the stairs. As he climbed, he pulled out his mobile and checked for missed calls or messages, the feeling of unease growing with each step.

  He reached the bedroom and stood in the doorway in indecision, before tapping Medea's name into the phone.

  As it droned, he made his way along the landing and pushed open the door to the spare bedroom.

  'It has not been possible...'

  Clicking off the call, Lasser slapped a hand against the light switch, when he saw Emma’s suitcase on the bed he paused before pressing the call button again.

  'Come on Med don't do this to me,' he said as he walked over to the bed.

  Flipping open the lid he looked down at the scattering of underwear, the sweet scent of perfume wafted up from the open case. The sense of unease suddenly grew inside his mind.

  ‘It has not been possible…’

  A couple of minutes later, he was driving off the estate, as soon as he reached the main road he slammed his foot on the accelerator, barrelling down the road, the surface slick with rainwater, the sky black with foreboding.

  He hurtled past a line of slow moving taxis; a couple of them blasted their horns as he swerved onto the wrong side of the road. Yanking the wheel, he shot around the roundabout and floored the gas. Houses flew by in a blur, he bulleted from one cone of light to the next, all the time his brain screaming 'No!'

  Ten minutes later, he pulled up outside James Drake's house any sliver of hope died as he failed to see Medea's car parked on the drive.

  Thrusting the door open, he ran up the drive and started to bang on the front door before dropping into a crouch. Flicking open the letterbox, he peered along the darkened hallway.

  'Mr Drake wake up it's the police!' he shouted before hammering on the door for a second time.

  When the hall light clicked into life, Lasser took a step back, wiping the back of a hand across his dried out lips.

  As soon as the door began to open, he moved forward. 'Is Medea here?'

  James Drake blinked out at him, his eyes fogged with sleep. 'Medea?'

  'Yes, yes is she here?' Lasser reached out and grabbed the sleeve of the old man's dressing gown.

  'No she left hours ago.'

  The words landed on Lasser's shoulders like a burning accusation. 'Shit!'

  'Look, what's happened have you found Emma?' Drake looked on the verge of collapse, his grey skin looked parchment thin his washed out pale blue eyes sunken.

  'Did she tell you where she was going when she left?'

  'I told you I haven't seen Emma in five years.'

  Lasser took hold of Drake's shoulders, he wanted to shake him awake, shake him into the here and now. 'I'm talking about Medea, Mr Drake, not Emma.'

  Lasser saw the confusion evaporate as the penny dropped. 'She said she was going to give you a call and then I think she was heading home.'

  Lasser dragged out his phone and scrolled through the numbers.

  'You would tell me if something bad has happened wouldn't you?'

  Lasser held up a hand and waited, after half a minute Bannister answered his voice thick with sleep.

  'Have you any idea what bloody time it is?'

  'Fuck the time!' Lasser barked and watched as Drake's eyes sprang wide in shock.

  'What's the matter?' Bannister asked, suddenly sounding wide awake.

  Lasser explained the nightmare scenario.

  81

  Steve Howell yanked on the lead and the bull terrier looked up at its master with a baleful gleam in its eye.

  'Don't look at me like that Maud,' he grumbled as he took a short cut between the boarded up houses.

  The dog gave a shake, rainwater sprinkling from its thin fur.

  Picking his way over a scattering of broken bricks, Steve lowered the umbrella for a second while he flicked up the collar of his waterproof jacket.

  He'd finished his shift at the bakery an hour ago and would have loved to be curled up in bed, but over the years Maud had got into the habit of wanting to go out for a quick walk when he got in from work.

  'Damned dog,' he mumbled as a blast of wind threatened to turn the umbrella inside out. Shivering, he looked around at the houses that should have been demolished years ago, half the slates on the roofs were missing and the pavement gleamed with shattered glass.

  While the dog stopped to take a leak, he fished a cigarette from his pocket and lit up, blowing the smoke out into the fine drizzle.

  'Come on Maud take a dump for God's sake.'

  The animal started to sniff at the ground, the thin cable of the wandering lead whined as the dog trotted across the road. With a heavy sigh, Steve stepped into the road and followed the squat animal as it sniffed its way along the pavement.

  He should never have let the kids talk him into getting a dog in the first place. As expected, once the novelty had worn off he was the one left feeding and exercising the bloody thing. As for getting them to pick up the crap, well he had no chance.

  When the small animal suddenly began to bark, Steve frowned in surprise, Maud might have many faults, but barking wasn't one of them. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time she had yapped at anything.

  'Shut up you daft bugger,' he snapped as he yanked back on the lead, but the dog continued to bark trying its best to scrabble forward, he could hear its nails scraping on the tarmac.

  Flicking the remains of the cigarette into the downpour, Steve moved forward, the dog leading the way.

  When he saw the body lying in front of the metal gates, the lead slipped from Steve Howell’s hand and the dog-bulleted forward growling, short fur standing on end as it began to sniff tentatively at the feet of the corpse.

  'Sweet Jesus,' Howells hissed in disbelief, when he saw the rat scuttle from beneath the body and dart under the gates he thought he would throw up in disgust.

  Reaching down he grabbed the plastic handle of the lead and yanked the dog back.

  Maud continued to growl and snuffle as he reeled her in.

  ‘Sit,’ he snapped and the dog squatted onto its haunches, its body trembling with anxiety.

  Steve took a step forward and then stopped, he could see the white hair slick with rain plastered to the tarmac, the short skirt hitched high showing an expanse of pale flesh.

  With a shudder he dipped a hand into his pocket and yanked out his mobile, when the voice asked him which emergency service he required, he managed to croak the word, 'Police,' before spinning away and throwing up.

  82

  'Well try her again.' Bannister said, his eyes bleary as he sipped at the sweet tea James Drake had provided.

  Lasser did as he was told and then sighed as the familiar automated message droned in his ear. 'She’s not answering,' he said in desperation.

  'And you think Emma's been in touch with Medea?' Bannister asked.

  'My Emma!' Drake was sitting on the sofa a cup balanced precariously on his bony knee.

  Lasser nodded. 'Med had Emma’s purse.'

  Bannister placed the cup on the table and stood up. 'So you think she went to deliver it to Emma?'

  'It's the only thing that makes any sense, we know Emma tried to draw money from the bank in Horwich, we also know she left without getting her hands on the cash.'

  'But if that's the case then why didn't Medea just ring and let you know?'

  Lasser chewed his bottom lip the craving for a cigarette growing with every tick of the clock. 'We'd argued you know that...'

  'Come on Lasser that's still no reason not to contact you.'

  'Perhaps she felt threatened in some way,' Drake said in a weak voice.

  When Lasser saw Bannister's eyes widen in surprise he suddenly knew exactly what had happened.

  'Emma must have warned her about contacting anyone,' Bannister said.

  Lasser could see how it had unfolded. Medea might have been mad at him for not ringing sooner about Emma's t
rip to the bank, but there was no way she would keep him out of the loop just to score cheap points.

  Forbes must have got Emma to ring or maybe he'd done it himself, whichever way it didn't matter as soon as Medea knew her friend was alive she would have agreed to anything.

  When he felt Bannister's hand on his shoulder, he looked up. 'Look, as soon as he gets his hands on the bank cards Medea will be safe.'

  Bannister's voice might have been calm and level, but Lasser could see the concern in the depths of his eyes. They had already established that Forbes was unhinged, after all, who drove over two hundred miles just to keep their ex-girlfriend captive.

  What sort of man would pull a stunt like that, Lasser's hands made fists, he knew how men like Forbes operated. Emma had closed the joint account, taking away his freewheeling lifestyle. Coyle had said that Forbes earned next to nothing, chances are when he'd latched onto Emma he must have felt like all his ships had come in at once and now she was trying to take all that away from him.

  Suddenly Lasser could imagine all sorts of scenarios, none of them pleasant.

  'Listen Lasser as soon as anyone tries to use the cards we'll know when and where.'

  'Do you think he'll try and take Emma back to London?' James Drake asked the cup rattling on the saucer as he placed it on the table.

  'I think he'll try and use the card while they're still up here.'

  'But why?'

  Bannister shrugged. 'Because he must be desperate for cash, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the risk of getting in touch with Medea. I mean, for all we know he could have come up here with empty pockets.'

  'And those Jaguars don't do many miles to the gallon; I know, I used to own one of the damn things.' Drake said with a sniff.

  Lasser fiddled with the cigarettes in his coat pocket. 'Forbes doesn't know the area, Emma and Medea do.'

  'So what are you saying?' Drake asked with a frown.

  'They'll more than likely be looking to stock up on food, if they have any sense they'll try and bring him back into town,' Lasser said with a hint of hope that he didn't really feel.

  'He might not know the area Lasser but I doubt whether he's a moron.'

  Lasser slumped back into his chair; the small bubble of elation popped and vanished, replaced by dark thoughts that flitted around his head like horseflies around a cowpat.

  When Bannister's phone began to twitter, he frowned before plucking it from his pocket. Lasser watched as the DCI headed for the door, his left index finger plugged into his ear hole.

  James Drake sighed, the sound of heartbreak, his eyes glazed with shock. 'I need to see her before I go Sergeant, I need to know that she's safe.'

  Lasser closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. 'Like DCI Bannister said as soon as they use the cards we'll have a good chance of tracking them down.'

  'But what if he kills them and then empties the account?'

  Lasser's mouth fell open as Drake articulated his worst fears.

  'That isn't going to happen,' he hissed.

  Drake leaned forward; he looked like a ragged Guy Fawkes tumbling down from the top of an unlit bonfire. 'But how do you know?'

  Lasser looked the old man square in the eyes. 'Because I won't let it.'

  Drake held his gaze before nodding slowly. 'I believe you,' he whispered.

  When Bannister popped his head into the room, his face was hard with anger.

  'Lasser we have to go.'

  'Why what's happened?'

  Bannister twitched his head and Lasser crossed the room to stand by his side.

  'Someone's just called in,' he whispered. 'They've found the body of a young female in town.'

  Lasser had to grab hold of the sideboard to stop from crashing to his knees. 'Medea?'

  Bannister's eyes sprang wide as he realised what he'd just said. 'Good God man no.'

  Lasser swayed from side to side, his brain felt clogged with fear. 'But...'

  'Listen, a bloke was out walking his dog and he found her by the gates of Mellor's scrap yard.'

  'Mellor’s?'

  Bannister looked at him with a gleam in his eye. 'Come on...'

  'But what about Medea,' he paused, 'what about Emma?'

  The DCI thrust his hands into his pockets. 'Lasser as soon as...'

  'The cards used we'll be onto them?' Lasser finished.

  'Precisely.'

  'But what if Forbes loses the plot, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time something like this has gone pear shaped?'

  Bannister nodded slowly. 'So what do you want to do?'

  'I don't know,' Lasser mumbled in desperation.

  Bannister spread his arms. 'Can you think where they could have gone?'

  'Of course not but...'

  'Is there anything we could be doing that we've overlooked?'

  Lasser looked down at the floor. 'I guess not.'

  Bannister sighed. 'We still have a job to do Sergeant, but I promise as soon as we hear anything we'll be down on the bastard like a ton of shit.'

  Lasser knew Bannister was right, all bases had been covered though he still couldn't shake the feeling that he should be out there combing the streets.

  'Is everything alright?' Drake asked as he hobbled towards them.

  Bannister edged past Lasser and tried a comforting smile; Drake seemed oblivious, his eyes locked on some internal landscape of terror.

  'We have to go Mr Drake, but I'm sending an officer here to stay with you until we get this sorted.'

  'Oh really there's no need, I'll be fine.'

  Bannister shook his head. 'Believe me you'd be doing us a favour.'

  A look of relief flooded through Drakes eyes. 'Well if you're sure?'

  ‘Mr Drake, we'll get this sorted.'

  Drake nodded and even managed a washed out smile. 'Thank you.'

  Half a minute later, Lasser was following Bannister down the road, the blue lights spiralling out into the darkness. Lasser's mind couldn't get past the last time he had spoken to Medea.

  'Piss off!' she'd snapped, he wondered if he would ever hear her voice again.

  83

  They arrived to find Doc Shannon leaning over the body, four police cars lined the rubble-strewn street an ambulance was parked close to the gates. Officers were wandering around in high viz vests shining torches up and down the gloomy street. Bannister bumped onto the curb and Lasser pulled in tight behind.

  Climbing out Lasser looked up letting the drizzle fall onto his upturned face.

  'Come on Sergeant,' Bannister said as he popped up a golfing umbrella with the words 'Ping' stencilled onto the nylon.

  Lasser beeped on the alarm and followed as Bannister picked his way along the street.

  Shannon looked up as they approached his face grim behind the unruly beard. 'Evening gents,' he said as he turned towards them.

  Bannister looked down at the body and sniffed. 'So what have we got?'

  Shannon adjusted the wide brimmed hat on his head and a trail of water slid from the brim. 'She didn't die here, she was dumped.'

  'Time of death?'

  Shannon folded his arms. 'I can't give you a definite yet, but I'd say ten maybe twelve hours ago.'

  Bannister moved forward. 'Cause?'

  'It's difficult to say until I get a good look at her but the fingers on her right hand are badly burned.'

  'Meaning?'

  Shannon shrugged. 'I don't know yet, but she also suffered trauma to the left side of her head and also her right shin.'

  Lasser tried to concentrate, but his mind wouldn't let go of Medea, he couldn't shake the feeling of panic that threatened to morph into outright terror.

  Bannister looked up at the gates of the scrap yard. 'Has anyone contacted the Mellor’s yet?'

  Shannon shrugged. 'Not a clue.'

  'What about identification?' Bannister asked.

  'The pockets are empty, no purse or mobile.'

  For the first time Lasser looked down at the corpse and frowned. 'I know w
ho she is,' he said as he leaned down for a closer look.

  Bannister chewed a piece of fingernail free. 'Name?'

  'Sharon.'

  'Last name?'

  Lasser scratched his head as he tried to remember. 'She was pulled in about eight months ago for attacking another girl in a local boozer, some argument over a lad.'

  'Violent type then?'

  Lasser nodded. 'She went at the girl with a broken bottle, I remember when we brought her in she was as high as a kite.'

  'A drug taker,' Bannister said with interest.

  'Well she was definitely on something, but by the time we got there the other girl had vanished so there was no one to press charges.'

  'Typical,' Bannister snorted. 'Right Doc, what about it was she a user?'

  Shannon dragged his fingers through his waterlogged beard. 'I'll let you know when I get her back to the lab.'

  Bannister nodded. 'Right then make it quick.'

  Shannon waved over to the ambulance men who were sitting in the cab to avoid getting a soaking.

  Lasser suddenly snapped his fingers. 'Sharon Cliff.'

  'Any idea where she lived?'

  'No, but it should be on record.'

  Bannister nodded and twirled the umbrella sending a spinning wheel of water droplets onto the ground. Then he turned and flapped his hand at PC Black, who came trotting over sharpish as if he'd been invited to stand under Bannister's umbrella.

  'According to Lasser her name’s Sharon Cliff and she's been in trouble with us before, get back to the station, I want to know everything about her.'

  'Straight away sir,' Black barked before turning and jogging through rain towards his car.

  'Right Lasser I think we should go and give Norvil Mellor an early morning wake up call.'

  Lasser shrugged, any interest he had in the case vanished as an image of Medea popped back into his mind a frown on her face as if she couldn't believe that he was standing here in the rain while she was out there still missing. Lasser shook his head and droplets of rain flew from his close-cropped hair, when he opened his eyes Bannister was stalking away through the rain.

  'Are you alright Sergeant?' Shannon asked.

  Lasser shrugged. 'No not really,' he mumbled before heading off after the DCI.

  84

  'Med you have to do exactly as he says.'