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

by Robin Roughley

  'Why do you ask?'

  'I don't know you just look kind of angry.'

  He tried a smile but her face remained pensive.

  'I'm fine but I have a bit of bad news.'

  'Go on.'

  'My boss has been in touch and I have to go back in.'

  Her face dropped in disappointment. 'I hate it when you're on call?'

  'I know you do sweetheart, and so do I.'

  'But...'

  'That's why I was making breakfast, a kind of peace offering.'

  Kerrie sighed. 'Will you be coming back later?'

  'Off course but it might get late.'

  'That's ok I'll wait up.'

  Pushing to his feet, he drained the glass of juice. 'I'll be back as quick as I can.'

  'I'll keep the bed warm.'

  Dipping his head, he kissed her, his right hand sliding onto her neck. 'Make sure you do,' he said with a smile before heading for the door.

  CHAPTER 114

  Doc Shannon looked refreshed, his beard tamed, although he could do nothing about the dark circles beneath his eyes. 'Well if it was the same man then he used a different weapon to kill Barton.'

  They were in Shannon's office, the air conditioning droned overhead.

  Bannister leant forward in his chair. 'Are you sure?'

  'Barlow, Philips and Wilson were all killed by a curved broad blade more than likely an axe. Barton was murdered with a flat straight blade.'

  'So you're saying it could be two men?' Lasser asked in disbelief.

  'Not at all I'm saying that the man probably changed his weapon of choice.'

  'That makes sense,' Bannister said. 'Barlow and Philips were killed indoors in their own homes...'

  'But Wilson wasn't.'

  'Yes it might have been outdoors, sergeant, but it was in the woods and it was dark. Whereas the killer would have had to walk down Market Street and enter the boozer so it makes sense to go with a weapon more easily concealed.'

  Lasser scratched his chin. 'Why use an axe in the first place?'

  Shannon folded his hands across the expanse of his stomach. 'Shock and awe, sergeant?'

  Bannister nodded. 'It makes for better headlines, sex offender knifed to death is bad, but sex offender hacked into manageable chunks will sell more papers, and let's face it the media are hitting the town big time.'

  'So are you any closer to catching him?' Shannon asked.

  'Do you think we'd be sitting here if we had a bloody clue as to his identity?' Bannister growled.

  'Point taken,' Shannon replied with a sigh.

  When Lasser's phone rang, he fished it from his pocket and slapped it to his ear. 'Susan?'

  'Hello sir.'

  Lasser pressed the loudspeaker. 'What have you got for us?'

  'Well sir, I've been looking through Cropper's file and after his arrest he spent six weeks on remand at Risley before moving over to Leigh.'

  'So did he make any friends while he was there?'

  'It seems not. I've spoken to the Governor and he put me in touch with the head guard in charge on ‘D’-block where Cropper was held and according to him he kept to himself, spent as much time in his cell as possible.'

  'Great,' Lasser's voice was heavy with disappointment.

  'I mean, it wasn't as if Cropper had any previous, so I think he just wanted to keep out of trouble.'

  'Understandable, I suppose. What about Leigh any luck there?'

  'Well he has had the occasional visitor while he's been in the secure unit.'

  'Anyone dodgy?'

  'Just a couple of work colleagues, and his sister seems to have been a regular visitor.'

  'Right, well thanks for that.'

  'There is one thing, sir.'

  Bannister crossed his legs; Shannon ran his fingers through his beard.

  'We're listening.'

  'Well, when Cropper was first transferred over to Manchester, the officer who conducted the interview was Sergeant John Mack.'

  Lasser looked at Bannister who raised an eyebrow. Shannon looked nonplussed.

  'The same guy who moved from Liverpool to Manchester?'

  'Yes, sir, and he also went to visit Cropper on at least two separate occasions, once whilst he was on remand and also at Leigh.'

  'Right, do you have any contact details for this sergeant Mack?'

  'Well you see the thing is sir, he isn't in the force anymore.'

  'He's transferred again?'

  'No sir, he's left altogether.'

  Lasser shuffled in his seat. 'Any idea why?'

  'According to records he was involved in an RTA whilst on duty. Some uninsured driver ploughed into him whilst he was crossing the road, it left him with a broken arm, and damage to his back, nothing too serious but he put in a claim for damages. Apparently, it's still ongoing but he was pensioned off about twelve months ago.'

  Bannister cleared his throat. 'Coyle it's Bannister here.'

  'Oh hello sir,' she said in surprise.

  'You said Mack went to see Cropper whilst he was in Leigh?'

  'Yes sir.'

  'Any idea when that was?'

  'Give me a sec, sir.'

  Bannister nodded as if she were in the room, they could hear the sound of her fingers tapping at the keys of the computer. 'That's strange,' she mumbled.

  'Coyle?'

  'Sorry sir, but it says here that Mack went to see Cropper six months ago.'

  'Six months after he jacked the job in?'

  'According to this sir.'

  Lasser could see Bannister's eyes light up, the room suddenly filled with tension.

  'Susan, see if you can find out anything else about Mack.'

  'Will do sir.'

  'Anything at all.'

  'Right.'

  Lasser ended the call; Bannister was already on his feet.

  'Come on sergeant, I think it's time we had another word with Simon Cropper.'

  Lasser had to break into a jog as Bannister shot from the room.

  Shannon slid open a drawer and pulled out a pack of chocolate digestives, as he bit into one the crumbs peppered his beard.

  CHAPTER 115

  He didn't believe in fate, didn't believe in God but as he watched the ‘AA’ wagon in front, he admitted that maybe he could have been wrong.

  The small sports car strapped to the back of the wagon bounced as the driver eased over a speed bump.

  Some people called it synchronicity he called it blind luck. After leaving the house, he'd headed into town his mind fuelled with anger. Instead of shrinking, the list had grown and Michael Brewster was sitting pretty close to the top of that list.

  He'd been ringing him continuously and getting no reply, the reporter had reneged on the deal and worst still he was ignoring his calls. When the wagon had pulled from the side street, he had eased off the gas, his mind full of images of what he would do to the reporter. Brewster would get his wish; he would be front-page news though not in the way he hoped. The traffic lights had turned red and the number plate, BREW 1 had appeared at eye level. He'd blinked and rubbed at his eyes before looking again.

  Michael Brewster's ridiculous car was perched on the back of the yellow truck.

  As they set off, he smiled at the way the world turned.

  Ten minutes later the truck pulled in through the gates of the Oak Hotel. Following, he pulled into a corner beneath a mangled looking willow tree.

  When he saw the man himself emerge from the entrance, he shook his head and laughed,

  Brewster looked dishevelled, his hair a mess. As the mechanic tilted the bed of the truck, the reporter wandered over.

  The man watched through the rear view mirror as a new battery was fitted to the small Mazda. Brewster slid behind the wheel, a couple of second's later exhaust fumes blasted into the air, and Brewster gave the thumbs up.

  The driver pulled out a small hand held computer and Brewster scribbled his name onto the small Perspex screen.

  Then the wagon rumbled across the car
park and back out through the gates. He waited whilst Brewster rummaged inside the car, then the reporter emerged and locked the door with the key before heading back towards the Hotel.

  When he was fifteen feet away, the man clicked open the door and climbed out before walking to the rear of the car. Brewster was still walking, head down, eyes fixed on the ground as if in deep thought. When he was six feet away, the reporter seemed to become aware of his surroundings. Looking up he sniffed and thrust his hands into his pockets.

  'Hello Michael.'

  Brewster snapped his head to the right, his eyes springing wide at the mention of his name.

  'I've been trying to ring you.'

  Michael hesitated; raw fear drilled him to the spot. Then he turned to run, the man snatched the collar of his leather jacket, spun him around and slammed his head forward. The impact sounded muffled Brewster's head snapped back, his eyes already closing.

  Tossing him into the boot, he slammed the tailgate closed.

  Twenty seconds later, he was pulling off the car park. He needed somewhere nice and quiet, somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed. Gripping the wheel tight, the man drove out of the town.

  CHAPTER 116

  'So you're not sure if it was him? Suzanne asked.

  They were sitting in the conservatory, midday sunshine blasted in through the glass leaving Medea feeling sleepy and relaxed.

  'I know what you're thinking, who else could it be, right?'

  'Everything points to it, Medea. I mean you said he seemed shocked when you told him you were engaged to a police officer.'

  Medea nodded. 'I know.'

  'And what about the comment he made when you went to confront him, which was totally the wrong thing to do by the way.'

  Sipping at her coffee Medea smiled. 'I get that now.'

  'No, you got it at the time, but you still went ahead and did it.'

  'I just didn't want Lasser going around there and losing the plot I mean they've enough to deal with at the moment without something like this.'

  'I understand.'

  Kelly appeared in the doorway. 'What you doing?'

  Suzanne brushed her ash coloured hair from her eyes. 'Just putting the world to rights sweetheart.'

  'You mean drinking coffee and gossiping.'

  Medea smiled.

  'So what are you up to today?' Suzanne asked.

  Kelly unconsciously mimicked her mother and pushed her hair back from her eyes. 'Well I thought I might have a ride into town, I still need one or two things before Uni starts.'

  'Which one are you going to?' Medea asked.

  'Well I wanted to go to Durham but mum persuaded me that Lancaster was the better option.'

  'Persuaded her with the promise of a car if she gets through her test,' Suzanne said with a smile.

  'I'll get through no problem,' Kelly said with utter certainty.

  'So I take it you want a lift into town?'

  Kelly blushed. 'Only if you're going.'

  'What do you think Medea a ride into town, a bit of window shopping and then we can grab lunch, my treat.'

  'Do I get lunch?'

  Suzanne looked at her daughter in surprise. 'I thought you would have been meeting friends?'

  'Not today.'

  'Fine, lunch for three it is then.'

  'So are you two ready?'

  Suzanne sighed. 'We'll just finish our drinks if it's ok with you? Say about twenty minutes?'

  'Cool,' Kelly said before vanishing back into the kitchen.

  Medea smiled again. Suzanne raised an eyebrow. 'Kids,' she said and shook her head.

  CHAPTER 117

  Cropper looked at them in confusion, today he was dressed in hospital blues, his hair standing on end as if he'd spent time in the electric chair. 'He came to see me once, but...'

  'Is he the man you gave the list to, Simon?' Lasser asked.

  Cropper blinked. They were in the day room, surrounded by bolted down padded chairs, the window was open a fraction, the heat intense.

  'What list...?'

  'Come on Simon, we don't have time for this,' Bannister barked. 'Someone is going around town killing people and he has a list, I know this because he told me himself, he also said he knows you. Now a police officer came to see you twice and I want to know what you told him?'

  Cropper looked nervously around the room. 'I didn't give a list to him or anyone else.'

  Bannister let the air blast from his nostrils, his anger building.

  'So tell me what he wanted?'

  Cropper shrugged. 'The first time I saw him was after I'd been transferred over to Manchester.'

  'And what did he say?'

  'Not much, he asked me what had happened and I told him the same thing I told you.'

  'What about the second time?' Lasser asked. 'When you were on remand?'

  Cropper scratched at the top of his head - like a ginger Stan Laurel before he bursts into tears. 'He wanted to know if I'd remembered anything else about what happened.'

  'Had you?'

  'No, there was nothing else to tell.'

  'So why did he come here to Leigh, to see you?'

  'I didn't know that he had.'

  Bannister gripped the arms of the chair. 'You don't remember?'

  Cropper looked towards the door, his voice dropped to a whisper. 'They give me things to help me sleep but it messes with my head.'

  'So if you don't remember this man coming to visit you then how can you be sure you didn't give him the list?' Lasser asked.

  Cropper's brow knitted together in confusion, dust motes floated lazily through the stifling air. 'I'm not sure.'

  'So it's possible you could have provided him with a list of names.'

  'You'd have to ask Nurse Turner.'

  'Nurse Turner?'

  Cropper plucked at the end of his paper gown. 'She would have been there.'

  'When Sergeant Mack came to visit you?'

  'There have to be two people in the room at all times, it's part of the rules.'

  'Lasser, go and see if you can find her.'

  Lasser climbed from the chair and headed out through a set of double doors just as a male nurse was passing. 'Excuse me mate, do you know where I can find Nurse Turner?'

  The man checked his watch. 'She should be on duty in the next ten minutes.'

  'Oh right, well when she gets here would you tell her we'd like a word?'

  'Are you one of the copper's interviewing Simon?'

  'Yeah that's right.'

  'Ok, no problem as soon as she gets here I'll tell her.'

  'Thanks for that,' Lasser said as he dipped back into the room. 'She should be here in ten minutes.'

  Bannister nodded. 'Tell me Simon, when you worked at Social Services how many offenders were under your care?'

  'Eighteen,' Cropper replied instantly.

  'And what about the victims?'

  'Seventy three.'

  'So you can remember how many people you looked after but you can't remember what Mack said to you when he came to visit.'

  'I suppose you think that's odd?'

  Bannister folded his arms. 'You have to admit, it seems strange.'

  Cropper eased back in his chair. 'That's because I was plugged into the system, I couldn't switch off. I used to lie there at night and wonder what they were doing. Not the children but the offenders, I knew they were making plans you see while everyone else was asleep they were scheming and plotting...'

  'To offend again?' Lasser asked, as he sat down the chair farted a blast of air from the cushioned seat, and Bannister glared at him.

  Cropper acted as if he hadn't even heard the sound. 'Of the eighteen people I was charged with watching, every one of them had been a repeat offender. All eighteen had done it before and some of them for years. You see it makes no difference how long you lock them up for, they're clever, they can wait, but it's always there inside them waiting for the day they come out, waiting to take another innocent life and ruin it.'

 
Lasser suddenly felt an obvious question slip into his head. Like an eager schoolchild with his hand in the air desperate to make a good impression. 'Simon, who was the worst offender?'

  Cropper's face curdled. 'Clifford Bretherton,' he said and then he leaned forward and spat onto the blue floor tiles.

  'He was one of your cases?'

  Cropper shook his head. 'No, he wasn't one of mine.'

  'So how do you know...?'

  'We talked ok, I know we shouldn't have but we did.'

  'You mean you discussed cases with other people in the department?'

  Croppers picking fingers had made a hole in the paper suit; Lasser could see a sliver of pale skin beneath.

  'Everyone did it, to some of them it was like some sick kind of joke.'

  'I'm sorry?'

  Cropper lifted his head and looked back and forth at Lasser and Bannister, his eyes shining with tears. 'They used to brag about the cases, if someone said they were in charge of a molester then someone else would try and trump it with a rapist.'

  Lasser sat back in his chair, the shock sinking in like a filthy black tide. 'So they tried to outdo one another?'

  'Not everyone, but a few.'

  'And that's how you came to know about Bretherton?' Bannister asked, through gritted teeth.

  'God no, Kerrie wasn't like that.'

  'Kerrie Fleming?'

  He nodded. 'We used to talk, she knew I was struggling with the job and she was trying to help.'

  'By telling you about Bretherton?'

  Cropper sighed. 'She tried to get me to see that there was always someone worse, someone more twisted.'

  'But it didn't help?'

  'She meant well...' when the door opened and Nurse Turner strode into the room, Simon closed his mouth and sat back in the chair.

  'You should have been told, a member of staff should always be present during visits,' she said as she slipped off her coat, her face etched with stern disapproval.

  'Funny you should mention that,' Bannister said as he rose to his feet.

  'I don't...'

  'Sit down Nurse Turner; we want to pick your brains.

  Simon Cropper flickered a smile.

  CHAPTER 118

  Michael Brewster had never felt fear like it; the last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare, but this was beyond anything he had ever imagined.