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

by Robin Roughley

  The man sniffed, it would have been unfortunate, but he had no doubt he would have dealt with the situation and moved on. Ultimately, nothing could be allowed to derail his plans, nothing would come between him and his destiny, he was sure of it.

  CHAPTER 90

  Neil Redgrove was as far removed from Harold Bolt as it was possible to get. There was nothing weak willed or bumbling about the man who stormed into the oak panelled room.

  'Right, I want to know what you're doing here and I want to know right now.'

  Lasser laced his hands together in front of him. 'Are you Neil Redgrove?'

  Redgrove yanked the stupid chequered cap from his head and tossed it onto the sofa, his hair was neat and tidy, slivers of grey at his temples. 'Of course I am,' he snapped like a ‘B’ list movie star disgusted that he hadn't been recognised by a member of the sprawling masses. 'Now what the hell are you doing here?'

  'Has Harold Bolt been in touch, sir?' Lasser asked.

  'Bolt?'

  'Yes.'

  'No he hasn't, why, what's the problem?'

  Silvia had taken her place by her husband's side, smiling, she linked her arm through his as if they were posing for a portrait.

  'Late last night Harold Bolt arrived home to find a badly injured man strapped to the porch of his home.'

  The smile on Silvia's face slithered free. 'Is Harold alright, sergeant?'

  'Yes Mrs Redgrove, Harold's fine.' Lasser replied through tight lips.

  'Thank goodness for that,' she muttered.

  Her husband glanced at her and frowned.

  'Do you have any idea who the injured man is?' Redgrove asked.

  'His name's John Sanderford.'

  Redgrove looked at him blankly; Lasser folded his arms and waited.

  'Is the name meant to mean something to me, sergeant?'

  'He's a sex offender.'

  Silvia gasped and placed a hand over her mouth as if she were going to be sick.

  Lasser looked at Redgrove who met his scrutiny with indifference.

  'You still haven't explained why you're here?'

  'Don't you want to know how Mr Sanderford is after the attack?'

  'I would imagine he's seriously injured otherwise you wouldn't be here.'

  'He's on a life support machine although to be honest, he's not expected to live much longer.'

  Redgrove straightened his shoulders. 'A sex offender you say?'

  'That's right; he lived in Scholes, two hundred yards from a primary school.'

  Redgrove's face began to darken. 'What are you suggesting, sergeant?'

  'I'm stating a fact that's all, I'm not suggesting anything.'

  'Yes well, I don't like your tone.'

  Silvia looked at her husband and then back at Lasser, tension crackled between them.

  'My tone?'

  'Yes, now if you'll excuse me, I'm a busy man...'

  'But you've just come back from a round of golf, I mean, how busy can you be?'

  Redgrove's eyes sprang wide. 'How dare you..!'

  'Tell me Mr Redgrove have you had any threats recently?'

  'Threats?'

  'Yes, has anyone contacted you via email to make accusations against you?'

  Redgrove pointed to the door. 'Get out.'

  'Excuse me but I have a legitimate reason for being here. Harold Bolt has received threats and it's logical...'

  'Right that's it; I want the name of your superior officer.'

  Lasser unravelled his hands and thrust them into his pockets; Susan Coyle shuffled her feet by his side.

  'If we didn't ask, sir, we'd be neglecting our duty,' she said.

  Redgrove flicked her a glance. 'I don't take kindly to being accused...'

  'Nobody is accusing you of anything, sir.'

  Redgrove held her gaze for a moment and then dismissed her. 'I won't ask again, now give me the name of the man in charge or would you sooner I ring superintendent Mills to get this cleared up?'

  Lasser crinkled his nose as if Redgrove had farted. 'I didn't come here of my own accord, DCI Bannister asked me to check if you'd been receiving any threatening ...'

  'Bannister?'

  'Yes.'

  The sound of an approaching car filtered into the room, Lasser glanced over his shoulder. 'In fact, why don't you ask him yourself?'

  Redgrove frowned. 'Silvia, why don't you go and let DCI Bannister in then we can get this cleared up.'

  'Of course darling,' she replied, before hurrying from the room.

  Redgrove threw daggers at Lasser who smiled in response.

  A few seconds later, Bannister strode into the room like a bad actor appearing stage left. 'Mr Redgrove, I...'

  'This man says he's acting on your orders, inspector?'

  Bannister looked at Lasser and raised an eyebrow. 'That's correct...'

  'Yes well, I have to say I don't like his attitude.'

  'And why's that?'

  'Well look at him!' Redgrove spat as if the four words were enough to convey his dislike of Lasser.

  'I'm sorry Mr Redgrove I don't follow?'

  'Well for one he looks unkempt. I mean is this how you allow your men to go about their business?'

  Lasser opened his mouth to fire a barbed retort but Bannister lifted a hand and shook his head. 'Yes well, we don't all have the luxury of playing golf and clocking off from work at two in the afternoon.'

  Redgrove looked at Bannister agog, Lasser didn't think he could have looked more shocked if Bannister had dropped his trousers and taken a dump on the ash wood parquet flooring. 'I beg your pardon!'

  'Have you told him about, Sanderford? Bannister asked.

  Lasser nodded. 'Yes sir.'

  'So what do you make of it, Mr Redgrove?'

  Redgrove took a step back. 'What sort of damn fool question is that?'

  'So you don't know the man?'

  The head of Social Services looked incandescent with rage. 'Know the man! Of course I don't know the man.'

  'But it's your job to keep tabs on these people...'

  'I run a multi million pound organisation; I have over two hundred people working for me...'

  'You mean with you, surely?' Bannister asked.

  'With me, for me, what's the difference?'

  'I would have thought you made it your business to know the names of these people?'

  'These people?'

  'The sex offenders,' Bannister paused, 'the paedophiles.'

  Redgrove folded his arms. 'I have a team in place to monitor...'

  'Not much of a team now though is it?'

  'I beg your pardon!'

  'We've spoken to some of the individuals in your 'team' both past and present and I have to say they're struggling to do their job.'

  'If you think I'm going to stand here and discuss council policy with the likes of you then you're sadly mistaken Inspector.'

  Bannister frowned and took a step forward. 'So you have a problem helping the police with their enquiries...'

  'I...'

  Bannister snapped a finger towards the window. 'Somewhere out there we have a man who is busy murdering people. He has no compunction about cutting off body parts, head, arms, legs it makes no difference to this man.'

  'Oh,' Silvia Redgrove gasped and staggered back falling onto the Chesterfield like some silent screen actress swooning in fright.

  Redgrove glanced towards her and then spun back towards Bannister his face rigid with malice. 'I'll make sure you lose your job over this!'

  Bannister barked out a harsh laugh. 'So far he's killed three people and Sanderford looks as if he's going to be number four. Now the one thing these men had in common is the fact that they were all on the sex offender's register and they all lived in this town. Now we're here to do our job and the fact that you are being uncooperative isn't helping.'

  'Look, it's Bolt's job to deal with that side of things, not mine...'

  'I think you'll find that's called 'Passing the buck,' Mr Redgrove and to be frank it's n
ot good enough. You're the one in charge, Bolt might have handed out the P45s but he couldn't have made that decision, that came from you,' Bannister poked a finger into Redgrove's chest.

  The councillor lashed out and knocked Bannister's hand away. 'Don't you dare lay a finger on me,' he spun to his wife. 'Did you see that, Silvia, I'd call that assault, wouldn't you?'

  Silvia nodded like a dim-witted automaton. 'Yes dear,' she mumbled.

  Lasser watched as Bannister shook his head in disgust, Susan Coyle hitched up her belt again, Lasser could hear the creak of leather and the slow tick-tock of the clock in the corner.

  'Can you tell me something Mr Redgrove...?'

  'I'm saying nothing until I've spoken to Mills and then believe me I'll have plenty to say.'

  'Why does a town this size have three times the national average of perverts and deviants?'

  'I...'

  'And the majority are not local men, they've been ferried in from all over the country, now doesn't that seem strange to you?'

  'How dare you!' Redgrove exploded.

  Lasser saw the panic behind the bluster, fear hiding behind a flimsy mask of indignation.

  'Now I'll ask you again, have you received any threats?'

  'None whatsoever, I mean ...'

  'Mr Bolt got more than his fair share...'

  'I am not Harold bloody Bolt!'

  Bannister ignored him. 'Most of them were from people angry about losing their jobs...'

  'We live in harsh economical times...'

  'Spare us the sound bite,' Lasser barked.

  Redgrove's eyes flicked between the two men in front of him, a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. 'I'll finish you both, you see if I don't.'

  Lasser closed his hands into fists and then he felt Bannister's hand on his arm.

  'I've read the email that the killer sent to Bolt; it isn't the ravings of a mad man. He's very clear about his intentions, perfectly lucid about those he blames for letting these people live in this town.'

  Redgrove licked his lips. 'I...'

  'Mr Sanderford had been tied to his front porch; the man responsible had plucked out his eyes and removed his tongue.'

  Silvia screamed before leaping to her feet and dashing from the room. Redgrove watched her go with glassy eyes.

  'Sorry for that, sir,' Bannister said without a hint of compassion. 'But you seem to be labouring under a misconception. You say all this has nothing to do with you and perhaps that's true...'

  'Of course it's true, I'm not responsible for some psychopath's delusions, and I resent you saying otherwise.'

  Bannister shrugged. 'That's fine, but it doesn't matter what I think. It's how the killer perceives a thing that's what really counts.'

  'I...'

  'Ultimately, we're here to help, we want to catch this man, and we want to keep those he's targeting as safe as we can. Now all I'm asking for is your cooperation, because believe me Mr Redgrove, this is one individual you don't want turning up on your doorstep demanding answers.'

  Suddenly, the colour drained from Redgrove's face. 'You think he might turn up here?'

  'That's impossible to say but do you really want to take that risk?'

  Redgrove glanced towards the window as if he expected to see a figure rampaging towards the house, a black shape with no face, the gleaming axe swiping back and forth through the still air. When he turned back, his face was bleached white, his eyes frantic.

  'So I'll ask you again, have you received any such threats?'

  'Not one.'

  'Do you check your emails regularly?'

  'My secretary sees to all that...'

  'What about your personal account?' Lasser asked.

  'I don't have one.'

  Lasser frowned. 'Are you sure about that?'

  Anger flared in Redgrove's eyes. 'Of course I'm sure!'

  'So your secretary see's all your correspondence?'

  'That's correct,' Redgrove's eyes flicked to the right and then he glared at Lasser and ran a hand over his short hair. 'I can't be expected to sift through the mountain of letters and emails I receive; I have more important things to do.'

  'Like playing golf?' Lasser asked straight faced.

  Redgrove jabbed out a finger. 'I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you!'

  Bannister checked his watch. 'Right then Mr Redgrove we'll let you get on.'

  'What, that's it?'

  'Well we've done our duty and as you say you can't help us, so...'

  'You can't simply walk out of here as if nothing's happened.'

  Bannister stopped and turned. 'I'm sorry sir, I don't follow?'

  'I want at least two officers stationed at the house until this animal is caught.'

  'But why would you want that, as you've already told us the killer hasn't been in touch...'

  'I said I hadn't received any threats but my secretary might have,' he paused, 'filtered them out.'

  Lasser scratched at his grizzled chin. 'So you're changing your mind now, is that it?'

  'I'm saying that she could have filed them as spam or the ravings of an idiot.' Redgrove stood tall and threw back his shoulders.

  Lasser smiled. 'So it's her job to disregard any unsavoury emails?'

  'I...'

  'Is that because you get quite a few, Mr Redgrove?'

  'I have no idea,' colour rose slowly in his cheeks.

  'I bet she spends all her time deleting the ramblings of idiots doesn't she, people who had decent jobs until you pulled the plug.'

  'How dare you!'

  'People with mortgages to pay, young families to raise, individuals who were dedicated to their jobs, keeping tabs on all the bastards you let into this town.'

  'That's enough sergeant,' Bannister said in a half-hearted voice.

  'I want two men posted at that front door,' Redgrove locked his eyes on Lasser's face as if storing his image away for future reference.

  'That won't be happening,' Bannister said. 'Now what's the name of your secretary and where can we find her.'

  'Are you not listening I want...'

  'I know what you want!' Bannister boomed and strode towards Redgrove. 'But like you said, these are harsh economical times; it's not just your department that's been cut to the bone. Then again, I would imagine you already know that being friendly with Superintendant Mills.'

  'I demand...'

  Bannister bulleted forward and pushed his face up close to the sweating civil servant. 'You demand nothing is that understood?'

  Redgrove took a hesitant backward step. 'You...'

  'Now I'd imagine you have a second home tucked away somewhere, so I suggest you make use of it because there's no way I'm wasting resources on the likes of you.'

  Redgrove snapped his mouth open but Bannister was already storming towards the door.

  Lasser smiled and winked before turning and following his boss out of the door with Coyle following on his heels.

  By the time they climbed into their respective cars, Redgrove was on the phone.

  CHAPTER 91

  Over the years, Clifford Bretherton had learned it was good practice to see the police out when they were leaving the house. It kept wagging tongues to a minimum. Standing on the doorstep, he saw the curtains of the house opposite twitch. Raising a hand, he waved to the coppers as they drove away before closing the door.

  He stood in the hallway for a moment, the anger bubbling up until it threatened to swamp him.

  'Bastards!' he hissed before walking through to the living room. Yanking the curtains closed, he slumped down onto the lumpy sofa and folded his arms, tucking his fists under each armpit.

  The coppers had stood in the small front room looking at him as if he were made of shit. What did they know, what gave them the right to judge? Cliff sighed and tried to calm down; anger was bad for the heart.

  The woman had asked him if he was aware that people had been killed in the town, people like him, she'd said with a look of distaste on her young fac
e.

  'People like me,' he whispered and slammed his feet down on the coffee table.

  Looking up at the ceiling, he allowed himself a tight smile.

  Yes well, if someone was out there taking the law into their own hands, then let them come. They wouldn't find Cliff Bretherton hiding under the stairs, he wouldn't be like the others begging for mercy, he'd dealt with people like this before. Individuals who thought of themselves as some kind of avenging angel, out to rid the world of what they perceived as filth.

  Sliding a hand down the side of the sofa, he dragged out the meat cleaver and turned it over in his hand watching as the forty-watt bulb glinted off the cold polished steel.

  Yes let him come, he'd be more than ready and certainly more than able.

  Cliff eased back into the sofa and grinned.

  CHAPTER 92

  'What do you mean you can't do it?' Brewster looked across the table in disbelief.

  The editor flapped a placating hand in an effort to calm the reporter. 'Give us another body and we're in business but come on Michael there's no way I can print an allegation like that.'

  'But you have to!' Brewster shot to his feet, his hair hung limp, his eyes haunted.

  Lewis frowned. 'I can't.'

  'But why not for God's sake?'

  'Because without evidence we would be hit by so many law suits that this paper would fold. I mean you've been in the game long enough to know that.'

  Brewster paced the room, why hadn't he simply ignored the call and listened to the internal voice. He groaned in anguish, the killer had given him a short list of names and told him he wanted them on the front page of the Star by the morning addition, wanted everyone to know the people responsible for the filth that lay hidden in their town.

  After the call, Brewster had felt a tidal wave of relief sweep through his system, only now was he seeing the impossibility of the situation.

  A dismembered body was front-page news, it was gold dust, but this was just hearsay, merely someone's opinion and Lewis was right, if he printed it then it would bring such a shit storm that the paper would be feeling the fallout forever.

  'I mean, you have members of the board of Social Services for one. Now maybe we could get around that, it wouldn't be easy, but come on according to you he's talking about top ranking coppers as well.'