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

by Robin Roughley

'Coyle's from Liverpool and now she works here, it's hardly a revelation, people move around in this job.'

  Lasser sighed and nodded. 'Maybe we should have a word with him, see if he remembers anything about the killings?'

  Bannister yawned. 'Tomorrow sergeant,' checking his watch he fastened the buttons on his jacket. 'Right, it's now ten to twelve, SOCO are on scene at the Ship and Chadwick's checking the CCTV footage, so we need to get some rest.'

  Coyle clicked off the computer.

  'Ladies, gents, back here at six on the dot.' Bannister spun on his heels and walked from the room.

  Lasser fished the car keys from his pocket. 'Come on, Susan I'll walk you to your car.'

  'The last of the gentlemen,' she said with a smile.

  'Sod off then you can make your own way.' Lasser huffed.

  CHAPTER 101

  Medea awoke to the creak of a floorboard. Yawning, she stretched her arms to the ceiling, checking her watch she pushed herself upright.

  Lasser must have arrived home and headed straight upstairs. Picking up the glass, she walked over to the window, sliding the blinds to one side she peered out into the darkness. For a few seconds she looked out onto the deserted street and then a slight frown crinkled her brow.

  Something didn't look right, then her sleep infused brain clicked into life. Lasser's car was absent from the drive. Upstairs the floorboards creaked again, Medea's hand jerked and the wine spilled over and pitter-pattered onto the laminate flooring.

  Suddenly everything felt wrong, the temperature in the room seemed to sink as the walls closed in around her.

  Her eyes flicked around the space before landing on the phone perched on the arm of the sofa. Medea scuttled across the room and slid the glass onto the table before snatching up the phone.

  When she heard the footfalls crossing the room above she almost cried out in fear.

  Jabbing at the buttons she pushed the phone under her long hair and listened as the mobile chirped its way through the numbers.

  'See you in the morning, sir.'

  Lasser thought about telling her to drop the 'sir' again and then gave up. 'Right Susan have a good night what's left of it.'

  He watched as she climbed into her mini before heading over to his own car. As he beeped the alarm, his phone began to chime. The thought that it could be Bannister calling again was too dire to comprehend.

  For a few seconds he hesitated, trying to agree with the internal voice that said 'fuck him.' Gritting his teeth he listened as the phone continued to ring then with a snarl he snatched it from his pocket and checked the screen, Medea's named flashed up at him.

  Frowning, he opened the car and climbed in as he pushed the green button.

  'I'm sorry...'

  'Someone's in the house,' her voice was no more than a hissed whisper laced with dread.

  'Med...'

  'I can hear them moving about upstairs.'

  Lasser slammed the key into the ignition and fired the engine into life. 'Listen, get out of there right now...'

  'But...'

  'Keep the phone on and go to Christopher's...'

  'But he'll be in bed.'

  The wheels of the Audi spun as he flew off the car park, a cursory glance to his right and then he was accelerating down the road, the phone trapped between head and shoulder. 'As soon as you're out the door you scream do you understand?' He could feel the sweat leaking from his pores.

  'I...'

  'Just do it Med, do it now!'

  'Ok, ok, I'm going.'

  Lasser flicked the wheel left and right as the car hurtled around a tight ‘S’-bend. 'Med where are you?'

  He heard the unmistakable click of the front door opening; he could hear Medea breathing, harsh snapped breaths that tore through him.

  'I'm outside,' she whispered.

  'Right go to Chris's house.'

  'I'm on my way.'

  Then he heard her gasp a hiccup of terror. 'Oh God he's coming!'

  'Medea run!' he screamed down the phone, the car swerved wildly from side to side.

  He could hear the sound of her feet slapping on tarmac, the tortured sound of her sobs filled the car.

  'Get away from me!' she screamed and then the phone died.

  'Fuck!' Lasser slammed his hand on the steering wheel and then jabbed his finger at the screen. Bannister had left the station ten minutes before he had walked Susan Coyle to her car. The DCI had to pass the end of Lasser's street to get to the other side of town.

  'What do you want, Lasser?' Bannister sounded drained.

  'Where are you?'

  'You know where I am, I'm on my way home.'

  'Someone's broken into the house...'

  'Which house?'

  'Medea's in the street but I think the fucker's chasing her.'

  'I'm two minutes away,' Bannister barked and vanished.

  Dropping the phone into the well beneath the ashtray, Lasser slammed his foot down on the accelerator, images of Cathy Harper dead and buried flashed through his mind.

  'Jesus, please...' he hissed as the car barrelled forward.

  Medea screamed again as she felt the fist coil in her hair and then she was being propelled backwards, a million stars glittered in the clear night sky.

  'Whore!' the voice spat in her ear, she could feel his breath hot and sour on her cheek.

  The man snapped her around and she was confronted with a face covered by a dark woollen bob-cap pulled down tight over the head. Two rudimentary holes had been gouged from the cloth, dark eyes blazed out at her.

  'Adam,' she gasped.

  'Cunt! he snarled.

  She could see his lips through a third hole, the sight made her judder with fear. The mouth didn't look like a mouth at all, it looked like a vagina seen through a pair of crotch less panties.

  'Not so fucking special now are you?'

  'Please...'

  'You're coming with me we're gonna have some fun.'

  Medea lashed out, her grasping fingers snatched at the makeshift mask, the man grunted and tried to pull away but she kept a tight grip. He made a grab for her wrist and snarled as he felt the cap slide upwards.

  Letting go of her hair he lashed out with his right hand, the fist cracked into the side of her face and Medea stumbled to the left, falling to one knee, she felt the grit from the road slice into her skin.

  'Whore!' he screamed down at her, to her left Medea saw one of the lights click on in the neighbour's house. 'Fucking bitch!'

  Then suddenly the air was filled with the sound of tortured tyres squealing on the surface of the road and then a set of headlights bore down on them. Medea looked up, her hands and feet propelling her back towards the pavement.

  She saw the eyes glaring down at her through the ripped cloth then the man turned and ran. Medea watched through dazed eyes as he sprinted down the street before hurtling around the corner of the last house in the row.

  Medea heard the car screech to a halt then a car door slammed and Bannister was kneeling by her side.

  'Medea are you alright?'

  His voice sounded waterlogged as if he were trying to communicate from the bottom of a swimming pool.

  'Medea, listen to me...'

  'I'm ok,' she mumbled and then swooned.

  Bannister swept her up into his arms and strode back towards the car, opening the back door with a flick of his shoe he eased her inside.

  'Medea, Lasser should be here any second; I'm just going to take a look around the back of the house.'

  She nodded and swallowed. 'Ok.'

  When Bannister's phone began to warble, he pulled it out checked the name and handed it to her. 'It's him, tell him what's happened, and tell him to get his arse here ASAP.'

  She nodded again and watched as Bannister set of running down the street. Lifting the phone, she placed it tentatively to the side of her face, wincing at the bruising on her cheek.

  'For fucks sake are you there yet!'

  'Lasser it's me.'

&n
bsp; 'Med?'

  She could hear the relief in his voice, the sense the anguish evaporating.

  'I'm ok.'

  'Has he hurt you?'

  'No, no I'm still in one piece.'

  'Where's Bannister?'

  'He's gone after him.'

  'I'll be there in two minutes, two minutes I promise.'

  'Hurry.'

  She let her hand fall into her lap and then she began to shake in the way a child will when they rush headlong into a freezing sea.

  Medea tried to cling onto the reality of the situation, she had escaped with a graze to her knee and a bruise to her face, it could have been worse, she could have been lying the in the street raped and battered, dead even.

  She hiccupped and felt the hot surge of bile in her throat, gripping her hands on her knees Medea closed her eyes and tried to calm her jittering nerves. When she heard the sound of a car approaching at high speed, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. A few seconds later Lasser pulled her from the car and wrapped her in his arms.

  'Are you ok?' he whispered into her ear, his voice feverish with anxiety.

  Medea broke down.

  CHAPTER 102

  The man pulled the overcoat from the boot of the Range Rover and slipped it on. He could feel the flat weight of the cold blade against his ribs as he fastened the jacket. Things were building nicely, he had no doubt the police would be out in force scouring the streets looking for him. Then again, the truth was they had no idea who they were looking for.

  Still, it paid to be careful, why take unnecessary risks, he could have parked closer to the house but there was always the chance that someone would clock the same car appearing on the narrow road twice in the space of a few hours.

  He already knew the police had called at Bretherton's home earlier in the day, so it was obvious that the man was on their list of people to keep an eye on.

  Slamming the boot, he beeped on the alarm and set off walking. If things went according to plan then Bretherton would soon be dead and his work here would be done.

  Looking up at the black sky, he shivered inside his winter coat. He could feel the tension in his shoulders as he rolled his thick neck left and right to ease the stress.

  As he walked along, he counted the dead and wondered whether it would be enough. Philips, Wilson, Barlow and then of course there was Sanderford who was as good as dead and not forgetting Steven Barton, who was probably still lying on the piss covered floor being poked and prodded by the SOCO team.

  Five deviants had gone to meet their maker, he just hoped they had their excuses ready when they reached the pearly gates otherwise they would be in big trouble.

  He smiled at the image as his shoes clicked on the paving stones. Once Bretherton was dead he might muddy the waters one more time, perhaps Bolt or Redgrove. Then he dismissed the idea; no, he wanted them alive, he wanted them to suffer, long term.

  In the morning, the papers would hit the shelves and people would be under no illusion as to who was to blame for the sickness that permeated this town.

  He had no idea if Redgrove and his cronies would serve time for what they had done.

  Still, if they did manage to worm their way free from the blame, he could always pay them a visit after the media had finished with them, after all their dirty secrets had been dragged kicking and screaming into the light.

  The man shook his head, he needed to concentrate, he wanted to enjoy the next couple of hours, he had a lot of anger to get out of his system, and Cliff Bretherton had a lot of explaining to do before he died. For the first time, he felt the real swell of anger uncoil inside, like a living entity waking from a deep slumber ready to wreak havoc, ready for retribution.

  CHAPTER 103

  'Are you sure about this?' Lasser asked.

  Bannister nodded. 'Well she can't stay here can she?'

  The DCI had turned up with mud on the knees of his trousers, his shoes coated with grime.

  The attacker had vanished into the dense woodland that backed onto the house.

  'Do you think it's the ex boyfriend?' Bannister asked.

  Lasser sighed. 'I haven't asked her yet.'

  'Right, leave it to me.'

  'You?'

  They were standing by Lasser's car; Medea was still sitting in the back seat of Bannister's Audi, her hair hanging down obscuring her pale features.

  'Think about it, you're her partner...'

  'I'm also a police officer.'

  Bannister shook his head. 'Not tonight you're not.'

  'But...'

  'You're here to support her Lasser, not bloody question her.'

  Lasser tilted his head towards the heavens, his emotions a keen mixture of relief and boiling fury.

  'I've been on the phone to Suzanne and she's got the electric blanket on in the spare room, she say's Medea's welcome to stay as long as she likes.'

  'I'm telling you she won't like it.'

  'Look, how can you be expected to do your job knowing that she's stuck here with some dickhead on the loose? Now leave it to me.'

  Bannister patted his shoulder as he walked back towards his car. At the sound of his approach, Medea looked up and managed a weak smile.

  'He got away then?'

  'Afraid so,' he crouched down at the side of the open door. 'How are you feeling?'

  'I'll be fine,' she sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.

  'Lasser was telling me you bumped into an old flame the other day?'

  Medea threw him a crooked frown. 'So he also told you about the graffiti on the front door?'

  'He did.'

  'Look Alan, I don't know if it was him or not, he was wearing a balaclava type thing pulled over his head, I didn't see his face.'

  'What about his voice?'

  Medea looked away and shivered, Bannister waited for her to reply.

  'I'm not sure, it could have been, but I couldn't swear it.'

  'Right, I've had a word with Suzanne and she wants you to go and stay at our place until we can get this sorted.'

  'But how long will that take, I mean I'm back at work on Monday?'

  Bannister winced as his knees began to ache. 'I won't lie to you Medea, under normal circumstances I'd have a dozen officers out here right now, dog handlers the lot.'

  'But these aren't normal circumstances are they?'

  'We're stretched to the limit trying to catch the killer.'

  Medea nodded. 'I understand.'

  'So you'll come back with me?'

  'Listen Alan, I want Lasser to be able to concentrate on the job and I know he won't be able to do that if I don't agree to move out for a day or two.'

  'Listen, Suzanne's looking forward to having you. I mean all she hears from me are moans and groans about the job.'

  'Snap,' she said with a tired smile.

  'Right, why don't you say your goodbyes and I'll take you back with me.'

  Medea slid from the car whilst Bannister closed the door and lit a cigarette watching as Lasser slid his hands onto her waist. When she reached up to kiss him, he looked away, drawing hard on the cigarette. A couple of minutes later, they wandered over.

  'You ready?'

  Medea nodded, letting her hand slide from Lasser's grip.

  'I'll ring you in the morning,' Lasser said.

  'It is the morning.'

  He frowned and checked his watch, the dial showed almost half past two.

  'Right sergeant, you try and get a few hours rest I want you back at the station by six.'

  Medea raised an eyebrow and Lasser shrugged as she climbed into the passenger seat.

  Sliding the window down, she poked her head trough the gap. 'Make sure you lock the front door.'

  He nodded.

  She mouthed the words 'I love you,' and then the car swooped around in a tight circle, ten seconds later they were gone.

  Lasser trudged back to the house and through to the kitchen, the door had been forced open, the flimsy lock pulled from its casing. Closing it, he snapped on t
he bolt and then dug his electric screwdriver from the cupboard. Five minutes later the door was screwed shut, the anger running rampant through his befuddled brain, he headed up the stairs.

  Lying fully clothed on the bed, he tried to switch off the fear but it wouldn't be denied. If he'd ignored the phone, if his battery had died then Medea would probably have been seriously beaten or worse. Turning onto his side, he drew his legs up and clasped his hands together as if in prayer. He slept.

  CHAPTER 104

  Cliff Bretherton snapped his eyes open and listened; suddenly his heart began to thump like an old engine rumbling into life. Leaning over the side of the bed his fingers skittered around the floor until they came across the handle of the knife.

  Licking his lips, he slid from the bed, fully dressed, jeans, thick woollen jumper, and a pair of heavy boots.

  Cocking his head, he listened intently and then he heard the heavy tread on the stairs. Hissing in a breath, Bretherton took two long strides that brought him to the side of the bedroom door. Flattening himself to the wall, he lifted the knife shoulder high and waited.

  Seconds stretched out, the blood began to rush through his head like the sea trapped in an ancient shell. He heard the creak of a landing floorboard and allowed himself a tight smile; his dentures gleamed in the gloom. Then the sound died and he looked at the door handle waiting for it to turn.

  Ten seconds turned to twenty, a full minute passed and a sliver of doubt crept into Clifford Bretherton's mind, sweat began to ooze slowly from his open pores.

  The hand that held the knife began to thrum with tension, the blade wavering in the fetid air.

  Then he felt a sensation that had been absent from his life for decades, fear, it wormed its way slowly into his clattering brain. All his life he'd been big and strong, even as a child he'd dwarfed the other kids in the playground and it hadn't taken him long to realise the advantages his physicality could bring.

  Smaller kids were terrorised on a daily basis, pocket money was handed over without question. When he'd left school and continued to grow he had simply carried on taking what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  Even the years spent in jail had been a cakewalk, the other inmates had soon learned to give him a wide birth or suffer the consequences. But now as he stood flattened to the wall, he suddenly realised that a lot of his physical power had diminished over the years. Oh, he could still hold his own in a bar room brawl, but the reflexes were no longer as sharp and the brute force was on the wane.