The Way That It Falls: DS Lasser series volume 2 (The DS Lasser series.)

by Robin Roughley

  ‘Well I don’t want to sit down and find myself surrounded by teenagers.’

  ‘Try the Griffin, it’s on the way to the Oak and if it’s quiet you want, then I can guarantee you won’t have a problem finding an empty table.’

  Plymouth laughed showing a set of teeth as white as his hair. ‘Well thanks for the advice; I’ll give it a try.’

  With that, he turned and walked away. Lasser watched him go, taking long confident strides along the slippery pavement.

  He looked along high street, most of the lights in the shop windows had been extinguished to save on the electricity bill, the larger department stores bucking the trend, bright lights pooling out onto the snow. Wandering back to the car, he climbed in; Boots the chemist was still open, he looked at the spot where Callum Green’s grandmother had all but died. It seemed an age ago, a young couple walked past the car, her Ugg boots darkening as they soaked up the snow. She looked at her partner and laughed before leaning into him; he slid an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

  It was a sight that should have made him feel as if there was still some normality in the world, in the end, it simply made him feel obsolete.

  When his phone began to twitter, he looked at the unknown number with a frown. It was probably someone from Mumbai trying to sell him a better phone tariff. With a sigh, he pressed the green button and put the phone to his ear.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Callum sat in the lounge of his sister’s house and listened in disbelief as she poured out two years of anguish and grief. His huge hands dangled between his legs, fists opening and closing as his temper crawled up to fever pitch.

  He’d never liked Butcher, though the thought that he could have been abusing his sister had never entered his head. Tammy sat curled on the sofa, her long hair covering her face. She avoided making any sort of eye contact, afraid that it would somehow break the spell and force her to clam up.

  When she started to talk about how Jimmy would beat her across the arms and legs with a belt he left hanging on the wardrobe, for just such an occasion, Callum stood up and began pacing the room, the fury crackling around him.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he snapped.

  At last, she looked up. ‘How could I. You always said he was a waste of space, you tried to get me to call the wedding off, and I didn’t listen.’

  ‘Jesus, Tammy, I just wanted you to be happy.’

  She began to cry again. ‘Listen to me bawling like a baby and our poor Craig’s dead.’

  He sat down and took her hand. ‘Listen to me; I’m taking care of all that...’

  ‘But, what happened, I mean, why would someone want to harm him?’

  Callum had no answers for her, at least not yet. ‘I haven’t a clue, love.’

  Her eyes were raw and pleading. ‘I just want him here.’

  Even though she’d never been close to Craig, he’d still been her brother and the realisation that she would never see him again was slowly beginning to seep into her consciousness.

  ‘I know you do, sweetheart’ Callum slid an arm across her shoulder.

  ‘And then there’s Gran.’

  Green looked around the room, for the first time in years he felt vulnerable. It was amazing how the years could roll back to a time when he had little control over his life, simply another kid looking to get away from a life of poverty and insecurity. An image of Jimmy Butcher came into his head, the designer stubble and gelled hair, the fancy suits all paid for by Callum because he wanted his sister to have a good life. If that included marrying a prick like Butcher then he’d made sure they had a roof over their head and plenty of cash in the bank. Yet all the time, Jimmy had been pissing up his back, taking his inadequacies out on Tammy, while living the high life. In many ways he had a lot in common with Craig, both had been weak men, both using the name Green to fatten their own egos.

  ‘So where is Butcher now?’

  Tammy looked at him in confusion. ‘Well one of your colleagues came and dragged him away.’

  ‘My colleagues?’

  ‘Yeah, a guy with blonde hair. I’ve never seen him before but I presumed you must have sent him.’

  Callum shook his head, a prickling sense of unease crawled up his spine. ‘What happened exactly?’

  She tried to recount the episode, but even as she spoke, she realised it sounded farfetched, like a compulsive liar spinning a tall tale.

  ‘But you’re sure he knew Jimmy?’

  Tammy pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘Positive, he called him by name and Jimmy was scared when he saw him.’

  ‘And he knew you, even though you’re sure you’ve never seen him before?’

  She nodded and stretched out her legs, grimacing as she felt the bruises along her calf from where Jimmy had kicked her. ‘I know most of the lads who work on the doors and at the yard, but I just thought he was someone new.’

  ‘And you say Jimmy was scared?’

  Tammy closed her eyes; she could see Jimmy’s face as he backed up to the wall. Even though he had snorted a line of coke and downed half a bottle of vodka, the sight of the man standing in the hallway had been enough to cut through the dumb stupor. Over the last couple of years, she’d seen him looking apprehensive whenever Callum was around but there had never been a true look of fear in his eyes, not the fear she saw when the blond haired man had stepped towards him.

  ‘He wasn’t just scared, Cal, he was petrified,’ she mumbled.

  Green nodded and stood up. ‘Right, Tam, you’re coming with me.’

  Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. ‘But it’s half seven.’

  ‘I don’t care, now I’ll get one of the lads to call around tomorrow and get anything you need, but...’

  ‘You think, Jimmy might come back?’ her eyes grew wide in fear and she pulled the bathrobe tight around her. To see his kid sister looking so bemused and scared made him seethe.

  ‘No, love, I don’t.'

  ‘So why do you want me to come with you?’ she asked in confusion.

  Callum thought for a moment before answering. ‘Look, sweetheart, it’s not Jimmy I’m worried about...’

  ‘Then why...?’

  ‘Look just bloody well do as I ask!’ he didn’t mean to raise his voice and when he saw her flinch, he felt a sliver of shame. ‘Please, Tam,’ he kept his voice low and tried a half-hearted smile.

  She pushed herself to her feet. ‘OK, there’s no need to shout.’

  He watched her walk from the room, her shoulders slumped, head bowed as if her brother had suddenly revealed a side of his personality that showed he wasn’t so different to her husband after all.

  She was halfway up the stairs when the flashing blue light spilled in through the glass-fronted door. She turned and looked down; Callum was standing at the foot of the stairs, his brow furrowed in anger.

  ‘Take no notice, Tammy, I’ll sort it, you just get yourself ready.’

  She nodded a reply and climbed her way to the top.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Plymouth spent half an hour in the Griffin, sipping a glass of red wine. It was just as the police officer had promised, deserted. The proprietor had looked crestfallen when he’d paid for the drink and retreated to a small table in the corner.

  As he sat there, Plymouth tried to rationalise recent events. When he’d turned up at Butcher’s home it had been with the sole intention of coming away with Greens sister. However, once he had seen the look of terror on her face he had decided a change of plan was in order. Sipping his drink Plymouth tried to work out the reasons why. He supposed he could say that removing Butcher was taking care of future loose ends, but in truth, the analogy was weak. James Butcher would never have posed a serious problem to either him or his plans.

  Butcher had unwittingly been garnishing him with information for the past six weeks. Plymouth had taken the time to get to know the man’s routine and then orchestrated an accidental meeting. It turned out Jimmy had a fledgling c
ocaine habit and you would have presumed that having a brother-in-law who dealt in large quantities of the stuff would have meant he had access to as many illegal substances as he wanted. The reality of the situation was the polar opposite; Jimmy could never run the risk of his addiction getting back to Tammy’s older brother, so whenever he wanted a fix he had to head out of town.

  Plymouth had made sure he knew where to come to get his hands on good quality stuff. He’d sat and listened as Butcher whined about how his brother-in-law was some major drug dealer, who insisted that anyone who worked for him stayed off the stuff.

  ‘Yes, well he can get fucked, nobody tells Jimmy Butcher what he can and can’t fucking do.’

  Plymouth had asked him if he would mind watching his language and Jimmy had looked at him as if he was some kind of Victorian father. In the end, he had merely nodded and continued spilling the beans about Green and his family. Plymouth only had to remind him once more about the use of colourful language but it was a lesson that had left Jimmy Butcher writhing on the floor in agony.

  By this time, he had learned all he needed to know about Callum Green, his business dealings and more importantly his mind set. Jimmy’s addiction had taken hold; he had the haunted look in his eyes, as the craving ate away at his senses. Until now, none of that had been Plymouth’s concern, but the sight of Tammy had left him with a feeling of unease.

  Leaving the Griffin, Plymouth paused on the curb and pondered the possible ramifications of taking James instead of Tammy. It would make any future plans difficult, after all Green was no fool and he would have probably worked out that Tammy had been the initial target, which meant she would now be closeted away until all this was over.

  He started to walk back towards the hotel and then suddenly stopped, the body of Jimmy Butcher had been placed in the small room at the rear of the shop; tomorrow was Sunday giving him twenty-four hours to move the remains.

  He pulled the scarf tight around his neck and thought about the conversation with the Lasser. Plymouth was a man who would on occasion allow for the possibility of coincidence. More often than not, he worked on the adage that forward planning eliminated many of the twists and turns that could unravel a perfectly laid plan. If by some unfathomable reason the sergeant had been suspicious then surely he would have arrived mob handed. It sounded reasonable, nevertheless the man had made it his business to return and question him.

  Plymouth turned on his heels and headed back down the street, hands thrust into jacket pockets, head held high as if the biting wind that threw handfuls of sleet into his face was of little concern. He made his way to the rear of the building and entered the shop, disarming the elaborate security system. Jimmy Butcher had been lodged into a narrow gap beneath a worktop that housed the microwave and kettle. His face a rigid mask of grey beneath the clear plastic bag that covered his head, held in place by a cable tie. Plymouth looked down at the beads of condensation that glistened on the inside of the bag, the mouth locked open for eternity in a silent scream. To ensure the body fitted into the small gap, Plymouth had placed the limbs on the small step and then stamped down breaking the arms at the elbows and the legs at the knees.

  Dragging Butcher from his temporary resting place, he unceremoniously dropped him into the boot of the car and went back inside for a quick look around. Twenty minutes later, he hit the motorway and yawned as the heater began to take effect.

  His mind turned back to the image of Tammy slumped at the foot of the stairs, looking at him with a bewildering expression of horror and uncertainty. Then it dawned on him why he had taken the husband and not her, in no small part he had been responsible for the way she had been treated. He’d been the one who fed her husband’s addiction and then sent him on his merry way to beat his wife; it had been an unfortunate by-product and one that he regretted.

  Perhaps it was time to speed things up, his mind clicked through the gears trying to see the most direct route to achieve his aims. Charles Munroe flashed into his mind, he was no better than Green another greedy individual who grabbed what he wanted and fuck the consequences. His eyes sprang open as the profanity flashed through his brain. A sudden weariness seemed to weigh him down, pressing him into the luxuriant leather seat. Shaking his head, he slid down the window, freezing air swept into the car battering his senses. All the barriers he had constructed over the years seemed to strain against their footings as if trying to break free. Plymouth gritted his teeth, every time he closed his eyes; he could see Tammy looking up at him through a world of pain and confusion. Grasping the wheel, the icy roar lashed the inside of the car. Plymouth barred his teeth in a savage grin.

  Then again, maybe he was in love.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  ‘You bastard!’ she flew at Dave, hands formed into claws as she tried to gouge out his eyes.

  Lasser grabbed her arms and pulled her back, her feet sliding on the shiny linoleum, Dave looked on wide-eyed, tattooed arms hanging limply by his sides.

  ‘Calm down, Suzi,’ Lasser pulled her over to the door and spun her around. ‘Take it easy.’

  She tried to bring her knee up between his legs but he pushed himself in close trapping her against the wall.

  ‘He said he’d help me get some gear, he promised!’ She screamed, her features twisted into a snarl of hatred.

  Lasser looked over his shoulder. Dave looked shell-shocked, as soon as Lasser had produced his warrant card she had transformed from, a kid with the weight of the world on her narrow shoulders, to six stone of kicking, spitting fury.

  Lasser pinned her arms to her sides. ‘What about all this cash, Suzi, where did you get it from?’

  ‘Let go of me!’ She tried to twist away but he tightened his grip.

  ‘Listen to me, we have evidence that shows you emptying a bank account late on Saturday night, almost six thousand pounds was taken...’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that,’ she spat.

  Lasser looked up at the ceiling. ‘So where did that lot come from,’ he pointed at a stack of money on the worktop.

  Suzi didn’t even bother to look. ‘I found it.’

  ‘We have pictures that show you smiling for the birdie. Jesus, Suzi, I saw you in town at the burger van, you dropped the twenty and did a runner.’

  She gave her bottom lip another battering; Lasser could see flecks of blood on her teeth. ‘I have to go.’

  ‘If you’re hoping to catch up with Barry then you can forget it, he’s been banged up.’

  ‘Thank Christ, for that,’ Dave said.

  ‘Why don’t you fuck off!’ She tried to lunge forward and Lasser pushed her back. ‘At least he would never have grassed me up.’

  Lasser suddenly let her go and took a step back. ‘Why would Barry grass you up, Suzi? You’re a source of income to him, he uses you to make him a few quid, he forces you to have sex with strangers and drops you the occasional bag of shit for your troubles. I mean, how old are you, eighteen, nineteen?’

  She turned side on, folding her arms across her skinny chest, her eyes throwing daggers.

  ‘I know you’ve had a crap life, I checked, but taking the money was wrong and deep down you know it.’

  ‘I told you...’

  ‘What I can’t understand is what you are still doing knocking around this shit hole. I mean, you could have been miles away by now?’

  She sniffed and looked down at her trainers; she could feel the heat building in the small room, her skin clammy and her stomach in knots. ‘I wanted to,’ she whispered. ‘I went to the bus station and then I thought about catching a train, but I didn’t have anywhere to go.’ She sounded pitiful, like Cinderella having the coach and horses only to discover the ball had been cancelled.

  ‘Is that because you knew you’d need a fix and moving away to a strange place would make it harder for you?’

  For a moment, her eyes flared, then her shoulders sagged and she nodded. ‘I always get my stuff off Barry and now you’ve locked him up,’ her eyes filled
with tears.

  Jesus, what a life, it was amazing to think she had all this cash and yet she would give it all up to get her hands on a few grams of coke that had probably been cut with talcum powder.

  ‘You’re going to have to come with me, Suzi.’

  Her head lashed from side to side. ‘No, no, I can’t, please you have to let me go.’

  ‘I’m sorry, love, I can’t do that.’

  Reaching out she plucked at the sleeve of his jacket, a strange desperate smile on her ravaged face. ‘Listen you can fuck me if you want, both of you, I’ll let you do anything...’ Her eyes were glassy, the pupils dilated as the need to score eradicated all rational thought.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Dave took a backward step.

  Lasser sighed. ‘Thanks for the offer, Suzi, but I’m spoken for,’ even as he spoke the words he wondered if it was still the truth.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  ‘His name’s Shaun Miller.’ Tommy was standing on top of the multi storey car park, looking out as huge snowflakes billowed around him, the phone clasped to his cauliflower ear.

  ‘How did you find him?’ Callum sounded tired, stressed, as if his mind was preoccupied with something momentous.

  ‘The copper just rang. Apparently, Miller fenced the chains to a pawnbroker called Weismann and then killed the fucker. By the time the filth got round to checking on him the prick had already done a runner.’

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘Don’t worry he’s got a kid with some bird on Millers Lane estate. I’m on my way to have a word with her.’

  ‘Don’t fuck about, Tommy, I want this sorted. If she messes you about, break something.’

  The traffic on Market Street was crawling along at a snail’s pace, from this elevated position shoppers looked like extras from a Lowry painting.

  ‘How’s Tam?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘A mess, I mean, how could I not have known that Butcher was knocking her about?’