More Equal Than Others. The DS Lasser series. Volume five: Robin Roughley

by Robin Roughley

  'So what's he doing with a piece of kit like that?'

  'Precisely,' Bannister growled.

  Lasser gave the mess on the bed the once over, headache tablets, a couple of miniature bottles of whisky and a scattering of elastic bands. Turning, he crouched down and peered under the bed before dragging the cardboard box out. Lasser flipped the lid; a new looking DVD player lay inside along with a stack of disks.

  Pulling one out, he grimaced at the title. 'What do you make of this?'

  Bannister turned as Lasser tossed it over. The dark look on Bannister's face deepened. 'Playtime at the Nursery,' he snarled before dropping the case onto the bed in disgust.

  Lasser flicked through a few more, the anger building. 'Dirty bastard,' he mumbled.

  At the bottom of the box, he spotted a faux leather wallet, gingerly pulling it free; he flipped it open and looked down in amazement.

  The plastic driving licence card had a photograph of Colin Philips on the front. 'Check this.'

  Bannister plucked it from his fingers. 'Philips!'

  'That must be his desktop, this is Philips stuff.'

  Bannister snapped the wallet closed. 'So they knew one another, I don't bloody believe this; I mean these people are meant to be monitored!'

  Lasser kept his mouth closed, he knew Bannister well enough not to interrupt when he was in the middle of a rant.

  'Right I want Sanderford found!'

  'You think he was responsible for Philips death?'

  'I don't care, as far as I'm concerned they can wipe one another of the face of the earth, what I want to know is why they were allowed to communicate with one another? I mean it's bloody ridiculous...'

  'Excuse me.'

  Lasser turned a young man stood in the bedroom doorway, a dog lead dangled from his right hand.

  'Who are you?' Bannister snapped.

  'Er, I'm the council dog warden. I was wondering what you wanted me to do with the old staffie.'

  'Old Staffie!' Bannister roared in disbelief.

  The warden licked his lips, his eyes wide in surprise. 'Yeah, according to the neighbour she's called Bess.'

  'Get out!'

  'But...'

  Lasser turned, crossing the room quickly he took hold of the man's elbow and steered him out onto the landing.

  'What's his problem?'

  'Take my advice pal; you don't want to be asking him that right now.'

  'But what about the dog?'

  'Well what would you normally do?'

  The man scratched at the fluff on his chin, it looked as if he was trying to grow a goatee, though the few dangling hairs looked repulsive. 'I suppose I could take her away but if the owner comes back, there'll be a charge and...'

  'Don't worry about the owner; just concentrate on doing your job.'

  The man gave him a wary look. 'Do you have to work with that miserable sod all the time?'

  'For my sins.'

  'Yeah well you deserve a medal, I mean...'

  'Look, if he catches you hanging around here then he'll more than likely throw you down the stairs, so why don't you do yourself a favour and sod off.'

  Lasser watched as the warden blanched before turning and stomping his way down the stairs. When he turned, Bannister was standing in the doorway. 'Right sergeant, I want SOCO out here ASAP. We need to find out what Sanderford was doing at Philips house, and we need to know if the remains we found in the woods belong to Sanderford.'

  Lasser nodded and dragged out his phone.

  Bannister squeezed past him before heading down the stairs.

  'Hello Carl, it's Lasser, we need your little box of tricks at number six Foy Street.'

  'Oh, so you need me now do you?'

  'Don't Carl, Bannister's in a foul mood, so when you get here tread carefully.'

  'He's always in a foul mood, but thanks for the warning.'

  'No probs,' ending the call, Lasser headed down the stairs to find Bannister in the kitchen, the phone clasped to the side of his head.

  'Right, well tell the man in charge we'll be there within the hour and he'd better have some answers for me, is that clear enough for you?'

  Lasser hovered in the doorway; he could see Susan Coyle through the kitchen window, standing guard in the back yard littered with dog mess.

  Bannister ended the call before dropping the phone into his pocket. 'Right Lasser come on, we have an appointment to keep.'

  'Who with?'

  'The man whose job it is to monitor these people.'

  Lasser could see the gleam in Bannister's eyes; he was spoiling for a fight and now he had a name to go on, his fury would boil until he had the man responsible standing in front of him.

  Inwardly, Lasser sighed. 'Do you want to take my car?'

  Bannister smiled wolfishly. 'Might as well, sergeant, might as well.'

  CHAPTER 24

  This time Brewster couldn't help himself, after witnessing the grizzly scene in the bathroom his stomach had been twitching on and off all day. The sight of the scattered limbs on the leaf-strewn ground was one-step too far.

  Spinning away, he threw up into a patch of nettles, the bottle of Bud he'd drunk earlier gushed from his gaping mouth, a sliver of drool dangled from his bottom lip, his usually pristine hair clung to his head like a wet dishcloth.

  'Oh God,' he mumbled before heaving again.

  Half a minute later Brewster rubbed at the grasping muscles in his stomach, he drew in a deep breath, and turned to look at the gruesome mess once more.

  The torso seemed incredibly thick and wide, he could just make out one leg partially covered by leaves and noticed that one of the arms had an anchor tattooed on the forearm. Looking again, Brewster tried to locate the other leg, frowning, he scoured the ground but there was no sign of the missing limb. The strange looking pram lay on its side a few feet away adding to the surreal tableau.

  Dragging a hand across his mouth, he pulled out the small Nikon and began to snap off one image after another. It seemed strange but looking at the chunks of flesh through the viewfinder somehow allowed the reporter to distance himself from the reality of the situation. He was standing in ancient woodland, taking photographs of what had once been a human being. Brewster shook his head before crouching and zooming in on the torso; he could see tiny hairs growing from its nipples and frowned in disgust.

  If the man on the phone was to be believed then this was another kiddie fiddler, and in the scheme of things, no big loss to anyone. As far as Brewster was concerned, it was like finding a winning lottery ticket, a guaranteed way to get back into the limelight.

  He began to warm to the task. 'Smile for the birdie,' he said before barking out a laugh.

  CHAPTER 25

  Medea gingerly placed the cheesecake into the bottom of the trolley and carried on along the aisle. Tesco's was heaving with shoppers, the unusually warm weather had put people in the mood for a barbeque, and the freezers were barren of burgers and sausages.

  She didn't know why they were bothering, chances are this sunny spell was bound to break, it always did.

  Heaving a six-litre bottle of semi skimmed from the shelf she felt someone clatter into her trolley.

  'Sorry about that.'

  She heard the apology grabbing the handle; Medea pulled the trolley to the side and popped the milk in.

  'Medea?'

  She looked up her eyes widening in surprise. 'Adam!'

  The man looked at her and smiled widely. 'Wow, fancy seeing you here.'

  A woman pushing a trolley laden with junk food sighed heavily.

  Adam turned to her and widened his smile. 'Sorry about that,' he said before sliding his trolley in front of Medea's.

  Misery guts didn't bother with a reply, instead she threw Adam a smarmy look before pushing past.

  Shaking his head, he turned back to Medea. 'I think she needs to take a chill pill.' Standing back slightly he looked at Medea and shook his head. 'My God, you look fantastic.'

  'You always were
one for over egging the pudding, Adam.'

  'I knew I shouldn't have let you get away.'

  Medea frowned. 'You make it sound as if you were holding me prisoner.'

  The white teeth flashed again. 'Come on, you know what I mean.'

  'Unfortunately I do.'

  For a couple of seconds the smile vanished before reappearing brighter than ever. 'So what are you doing here?'

  'Shopping.'

  Adam glanced into her trolley. 'And from the look of it I'd say you were buying for two.'

  'That's really none of your business.'

  The frown flickered on-off. 'Come on Medea, why so hostile?'

  'Look, if you don't mind, I'm busy.'

  'Well surely you have time for a coffee?'

  'I don't think so.' Grabbing the trolley she tried to move forward but Adam made no attempt to move.

  Medea stopped and raised an eyebrow. 'Do you mind moving out of the way?'

  'Do you still work at the school?'

  'Adam listen to me, I don't want a coffee. I don't want to make small talk; I just want you to get out of the way so I can finish my shopping.'

  'So who's the lucky guy then?'

  Medea tried to spot an opening but the aisle was full of people forming a trolley gridlock. 'I always said you needed your hearing tested,' she spat in aggravation.

  Adam continued to smile; the thin silver chain shone against his tanned neck, Medea could see a dark stain on the collar of his shirt. 'Still using the fake tan I see.'

  For the first time she saw a flicker of anger in his eyes. 'If you must know I've just come back from my hols.'

  'Good for you, now do you mind getting out of my way?'

  'Is that an engagement ring?' Adam pointed at her hand.

  'Yes it is, now...'

  'When I asked you to get engaged you told me to sod off,' he said petulantly.

  'That probably had something to do with the fact that you're a liar and a cheat, Adam.'

  'I told you that was all a misunderstanding.'

  Medea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'I'm not interested.'

  'But...'

  Spotting a gap, Medea thrust her trolley into the flow and stalked away. Adam looked over his shoulder, watching as she disappeared into the crowd. The frown deepened, spinning around, he gave chase.

  CHAPTER 26

  Harold Bolt, Harry to his friends sat behind a huge desk, round and plump, he tried to smile at Bannister and then frowned when the DCI remained stony faced.

  'Right gentlemen what can I do for you?'

  Bannister leaned forward in the chair. 'Well Mr Bolt, you can start by telling us what the bloody hell you're playing at?'

  Bolt glanced at Lasser in confusion and swallowed when he saw the matching look of animosity on the sergeant's face. 'I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific.'

  'Colin Philips and James Sanderford, ring any bells?'

  'I'm sorry but what is this all about?'

  Lasser glanced through the window; they were in the Town Hall, all high ceilings, and walnut doors. It was like travelling back in time to when the town had money to burn.

  'You have no idea do you?'

  Bolt pushed his glasses up his nose, pulled a handkerchief from the top pocket of his pin striped suit, and mopped at his brow. 'Should I?'

  Bannister shrugged. 'I would have thought so, you see the names I've just given you happen to be sex offenders living in this town.'

  Behind the glasses, Bolt's eyes sprang wide. 'Sex offenders?'

  'Now what I want to know is how these two managed to hook up.'

  'I'm sorry, I...'

  'I mean, I thought it was your job to monitor these people?'

  'Well forgive me but you're a representative of the law...'

  Bannister jabbed a finger across the desk. 'Don't even go there, Bolt. We act on information provided by your department.'

  'Yes, yes, I realise that but you have no idea, we've been cut to the bone and the council have to save over twenty million on next year's budget...'

  'This isn't about having your bins emptied every fortnight rather than every week. We're talking about paedophiles, people who need to be kept tabs on.'

  Bolt tossed the handkerchief onto the desk. 'I realise that but my team have shrunk from over seventy to twenty two. They're working all the hours God sends just to keep afloat and I'm sorry if you see that as some kind of excuse but it doesn't alter the fact that we're stretched to breaking point.'

  Bannister opened his mouth to fire a retort and then he slumped back into the chair.

  Lasser sighed, it would be easy to lay the blame on the council official, but what Bolt was saying was more than likely true. Years of overspending had left the town on the brink of economic collapse and the council was desperate to make savings. Bolt was a small cog in a very big wheel, desperately trying to hold onto his job whilst everyone else lost theirs.

  'Well can you at least provide us with the name of the caseworkers involved?' Lasser asked.

  Bolt nodded rapidly the glasses sliding toward the end of his nose. 'Of course,' pushing himself upright, he straightened his tie. 'If you could give me five minutes?'

  Bannister waved a dismissive hand. 'Make it quick, Mr Bolt.'

  Bolt almost ran for the door.

  CHAPTER 27

  Adam was waiting for Medea at the exit of the store minus his trolley; he stood with his hands thrust deep into his coat pockets. Medea ignored him and pushed her way through the doors.

  'Medea, wait!'

  She strode across the car park the trolley wheels rattling. Suddenly she paused and tried to remember which aisle she was parked in, Adam moved to her side.

  'Look, I realise you're angry and you have every right to be. I was a shit but I'm different now.'

  'Good for you,' she snapped before heading off between the rows of parked cars.

  When Adam plucked at her sleeve, she spun around.

  'Get your hands off me!'

  Taking a step back, he raised his hands. 'Jesus, I'm trying to apologise here.'

  'Apology accepted now goodbye.'

  'Listen, I was an idiot...'

  'As far as I'm concerned you still are.'

  'Let me prove otherwise?'

  Medea came to a halt. 'Listen to me, Adam, when we were together and you lied so many times that I didn't know what the truth was anymore...'

  'I was young...'

  'You were twenty five when we broke up not sixteen!'

  'I know, I know, I was a bloody fool but I've never stopped thinking about you.'

  'Don't make me laugh,' she said as she scanned the car park searching for her car

  'So what does he do?'

  Medea shook her head and wondered what she had ever seen in Adam Stokes, truth was despite his bottle tan, he looked a mess. The five o’clock shadow didn't look trendy, the dark circles beneath his eyes shone like pewter.

  'Believe me, Adam, you did me a favour. I'll admit I didn't see it at the time but I do now.'

  'Was I really that bad?'

  'Yes you were.'

  Stokes tried the winning smile but even he knew that it wasn't working. 'Come on, we had some good times,' he mumbled as if trying to convince himself of the fact.

  'Strange but I can't recall any.'

  This time the look of anger lingered in his eyes. 'What about the time we went to the States?'

  Medea remembered the holiday well, she'd been twenty two and full of misguided love for Stokes. The holiday had been a nightmare, they would go out at night, and then he would disappear leaving her to fend off the advances of some very dubious characters.

  On the last night, she'd waited in a club for over an hour for him to return, in the end she'd headed back to the hotel alone. Adam had arrived back at seven in the morning, smelling of booze and sex. As soon as they arrived home, Medea had given him the boot and that had been the last she'd seen of him until now.

  'I hated the holiday, Adam, you wer
e either drunk or absent.'

  'Hang on...'

  'Goodbye.' Medea set off walking, when she reached her car she popped the boot before lifting the shopping inside. Closing it, she pushed the trolley into the bay and headed back to the car. Adam stood waiting for her, a sheepish look on his face.

  'Ok, you're right, I...'

  'Don't you get it, I don't care.' Opening the door she climbed inside, when she tried to close it he grabbed the top of the door.

  'You still haven't said what lover boy does for a living?'

  'If you don't back off, you'll find out soon enough.'

  Adam blinked at her in surprise, suddenly wondering why his charm wasn't working.

  'What do you mean?'

  'He's a Police officer...'

  'A bloody copper!' Adam made it sound like she was seeing a mass murderer or a paedophile.

  'Goodbye, Adam, it's been great catching up like this,' she smiled sarcastically before slamming the door.

  Adam Stokes watched as she drove away.

  'Bitch,' he spat, before stalking back to his car.

  CHAPTER 28

  Carly Hughes looked flustered; she kept glancing at Harry Bolt as if she were a schoolchild dragged in front of the headmaster for a roasting.

  'Colin Philips,' Bolt said, before adjusting his glasses again.

  'He's on my things-to-do-list, Harry.'

  Bannister swivelled in his chair and smiled. 'Don't worry Miss Hughes, there's no rush.'

  Lasser watched as she slid a length of hair behind her left ear.

  'I'm sorry, I don't follow.'

  'Philips is dead.'

  The file she was holding on her knees slipped to the floor, an ‘A’-four image of Colin Philips slid free and whispered across the carpet. 'Dead!' she gasped before reaching down to snatch the photo from the floor.

  'We found his head in the microwave.'

  Lasser grimaced, Bannister had often accused him of having a lousy bedside manner, and as far as Lasser was concerned, the DCI was a hypocrite.

  'Oh my God!' the woman thrust the photograph back into the file, chewing at her bottom lip in horror.

  Harry Bolt looked green; the handkerchief was back in his hand mopping foppishly at his brow. 'Are you sure?'