Twisted

by Robin Roughley

Lasser thought for a moment. 'Maybe he's lost it?'

  'It's possible I suppose.'

  'But you're not convinced?'

  Shannon rubbed at his eyes. 'Look, Lasser, any bugger can get their hands on a decent knife, I could go online now, and order a first class blade and it would be here by the morning.'

  'What's your point?'

  'Cherry Collins was killed by a single wound to the neck, a controlled cut, no thrashing and stabbing, no frenzy.'

  'Well maybe that came after; I mean; this woman was his half-sister for God's sake.'

  Shannon shrugged his huge shoulders, 'Perhaps.'

  'I mean, according to Dawes…'

  'Collier Dawes?'

  Lasser looked at the doctor in surprise. 'Yeah, he's Flynn's shrink, why have you heard of him?'

  'Let's just say our paths have crossed.'

  Lasser narrowed his eyes. 'You don't like the man?'

  Shannon sat back down and tried to cross his legs, giving up at the third attempt. 'Well, he's well respected, very professional…'

  'Come on, Doc, save the bullshit?'

  A flicker of a smile played across Shannon's lips. 'I've always found him a cold sod.'

  Lasser thought back to the way Dawes had changed when challenged by Bannister. 'Yeah, there did seem to be something of the Doctor Frankenstein about him.'

  'Still, I suppose when you're dealing with the mentally unbalanced it can breed a kind of reticence.'

  'Whereas spending your time cutting up the dead leads to a balanced individual?'

  A wide grin split Shannon's beard. 'So go on, what pearls of wisdom did he throw your way?'

  'He said Robert Flynn's mother had been killed when he was a teenager. Apparently, she was on the game and one of her clients lost the plot.'

  'Did they ever catch the man responsible?'

  'No.'

  'So why did they assume someone else was involved?'

  Lasser blinked. 'What did you say?'

  'Did they ever question, Flynn about the killing?'

  'Well according to Dawes, Flynn's been the model patient, never shown even the slightest hint of violent tendencies, until now.'

  'And you believe that do you?'

  Lasser could feel his brain clicking into gear. 'You're saying Dawes is lying?'

  'Not necessarily, but a man in his position doesn't like any red in his ledger, Sergeant, it's not good for the image.'

  'Well, he seemed confident that his department had covered all the bases.'

  'Oh Dawes is a stickler for detail, but it just seems strange that Flynn wasn't high on the list of suspects.'

  'I'll look into it.'

  Shannon nodded his face suddenly grave. 'You do that, Sergeant, you do that.'

  76

  Robert stashed the bulk of the tablets in the corner of the room, covering the precious hoard with a scattering of dry leaves. He wanted to take the tablets with him but the voice had been adamant.

  'Take one box, Robert and leave the rest.'

  Now he strode through the brickwork tunnel, the night closing around him like a protective shroud, the voice driving him on, urging him to finish the task.

  The streets of Hindley were virtually empty, the rain keeping people indoors, apart from the die-hard's that would turn out for a drink in any weather.

  Ten minutes later, he walked into the all-night Tesco, grinning at the security guard who frowned in response as Robert strode past. The voice had told him he was invincible and he believed it utterly. Tonight it didn't matter who saw him it wouldn't make any difference, this night he was protected from the eyes of mere mortals.

  Grabbing a couple of hot meat pies from the deli, he made a short detour and snatched a box of chocolate éclairs and a bottle of Lucozade from the shelves.

  At the till, he handed over a twenty and told the bitch to keep the change, laughing aloud when he saw the shocked look on her powdered face. Before he was through the door, he'd ripped the wrapper from one of the pies and took a huge bite. Warm gravy squirted down his fingers and he paused to lick them clean. When the woman in the long coat and fur hat walked past and looked at him in disgust, he frowned, his good mood suddenly evaporated.

  Robert strode out of the store and headed across the car park, his anger sparking with every step. When he reached the bench, he sat down and finished the pie before immediately starting on the second. Five minutes later, he set about the éclairs; all the time his eyes remained locked on the front of the store.

  He asked the voice if it was sure and the reply came instantly. 'Oh yes, Robert, I'm sure.'

  The last of the cakes eaten, he tossed the box into the bushes and pulled out a cigarette. When he saw the bitch in the stupid hat walk out of the store pushing a trolley loaded with shopping, he dropped the cigarette onto the floor.

  Robert smiled, tossed a tablet into his mouth, and started walking towards her.

  77

  Erin stood at the bedroom window, watching as the field behind the house was slowly swallowed by the darkness. She'd wanted to go down to the woods to try and find Sarah but Bannister had made it clear that she wasn't to leave the house under any circumstances. When she'd opened her mouth to protest he'd taken hold of her shoulders, his eyes brittle.

  'Listen to me, Mrs Nash, what happened to your husband was terrible, and we're here to make sure the same thing doesn't happen to you but in order to do that we need your cooperation.'

  'But what about Sarah?' she asked, with tears shimmering in her eyes.

  'I'm sorry, but she made her decision when she ran from the house.'

  Erin had taken a backward step, shocked by his choice of words.

  'But you can't just leave her out there, I mean…'

  Bannister had tightened his grip. 'I can't afford to drag people over here to look for her; we're trying to cover as much ground as we can and resources are limited.'

  Before he spun away from her, Erin had seen the desperation in his eyes.

  Chewing a fingernail to extinction, she kept going over the argument with Sarah, regretting the words she'd used, wishing she'd chased after her whilst she had the chance. So many regrets, so many wrongs that would never be put right. Suddenly she started to cry, her legs folding as she sank to the bedroom floor.

  78

  Sarah's stomach twisted in knots, her brain felt disengaged, like a train without brakes rolling down a steep incline, picking up speed and heading towards inevitable disaster. She stood in the centre of the field with her hands on her knees, peering back towards the dark bulk of the trees, but there was no sign of Shaun Carver. Her hair hung limp and wet, her clothes saturated, her boots slowly sinking in the mud. She tried to grasp what Carver had said, but the conversation now seemed so utterly unbelievable that she was beginning to doubt her sanity.

  From across the field she could see the lights in her house blazing, like a landlocked lighthouse offering safe haven.

  'Do you want me to kill him?' Carver had asked in a neutral voice.

  Sarah had looked at him in confusion. 'What do you mean?'

  She'd heard the flick of a lighter wheel and for a couple of seconds his face had been illuminated by the flame, his eyes shone at her through the flickering light before vanishing back into the darkness. 'You said he'd have killed you right?'

  'Well yes, that's what he said.'

  'And he's responsible for the murder of your friend's husband?'

  'I…'

  'So, let me take care of it.'

  Sarah had taken a hesitant backward step, any notion that her saviour could turn out to be the man of her dreams evaporated. 'But why would you want to do something like that?'

  'You think he deserves to live?'

  'How can you expect me to answer that?'

  The red ember had flared as he drew on the cigarette. 'Let me put it another way, do you think he would have shown you any mercy if your friend hadn't raised the alarm,' he paused, 'if I hadn't come along?'

  'No,' she repl
ied without hesitation.

  Somewhere above a roosting bird flapped its wings, the sudden noise made her gasp and look up in fright.

  'Why do you have a problem with my suggestion?'

  'Look, this is crazy, you don't even know who this man is…'

  'I can find out, now I'll ask you again, do you want him dead? If you say no, then I'll walk away and you need never see me again.'

  That was the clincher, the realisation that he would simply disappear without making a sound left her feeling bewildered, as if she were a child in danger of losing an imaginary friend. 'How would you do it?' She whispered and then cringed as the unreality of the situation threaded into her brain.

  'That doesn't matter.'

  'But why would you want to, you don't know me, you don't owe me anything?'

  Shaun had taken a step closer and Sarah had looked into his eyes and discovered she couldn't look away. She thought this is what it must be like to look into the eyes of a dead man; it felt as if he'd been conjured from the dark, by ancient magic, as if he didn't really exist at all. She was having a conversation about killing another human being with a ghost.

  'Believe me, Sarah; you'd be doing me a favour.'

  'I don't understand?'

  'You don't have to.'

  She swallowed and suddenly she was back in the filthy alleyway, she could feel the hand trying to thread its way up her skirt, felt the sharp nails as he slid his fingers into her underwear. The icy sensation of the blade against her throat came flooding back, 'I'm gonna kill you bitch.' His words echoed through her mind, chasing rational thought away.

  'Do it,' she hissed.

  Now she stood in the middle of the waterlogged field, the weight of her decision bearing down, ankle deep in mud, she yanked her feet free and started to run towards the house.

  79

  No matter how many times he plunged the knife in, the bitch wouldn't stop screaming, wouldn't die. Robert had a hand wrapped in her hair; the stupid fur hat lay on the floor like a decapitated head. He slashed at her face, the dull blade sliced into her cheek and glanced off bone, blood spurted, and still she screamed.

  Flynn looked up, he could hear others screaming, could see the security guard run from the front of the store; gathering people to him like the Pied Piper drew rats.

  Ten yards away a woman was leaping up and down and pointing directly at him. 'Oh my God, he's killing her!'

  Robert blinked in confusion, this couldn't be right, the voice had assured him that tonight he was invisible.

  'Fucker!' he tried to disentangle his hand from the woman's hair, but it was if she were trying to hold him there until the group of approaching men could get their hands on him. With a snarl, he lashed out, the blade slashing through the locks and then he bolted, dashing between the parked cars. Everywhere he looked, he could see people closing in, hunting him down, then his head was suddenly full with the sound of laughter, the sort of laughter that would make you clutch your sides in pain.

  Reaching the boundary fence, he leapt for the top and scrambled over, a blade of razor wire sliced into his leg and he cried out in pain before landing on the other side in a patch of nettles. At his back, the swollen river Douglas crashed against the stone walls, a roar of black water that blasted through his head.

  'Bastard!' Someone hit the fence and began to scramble to the top. Flynn could see the man's eyes locked onto his. 'I'm going to maim you, boy, cut out your fucking heart.' The man snarled as he reached the top. Robert scuttled back, the nettles stung his hands, and he whimpered in distress. The man hung there like some bloated insect and then he lost his grip and crashed back down to the ground.

  Turning, Robert began to run along the makeshift path, he could hear shouts and screams mingled with the deep throb of the water. Shooting under the narrow bridge, he scampered up the embankment before vaulting the low fence and sprinting across the road. Half a minute later, he slowed from a run to a brisk walk; he could feel his heart pulsating, feel the end of everything approaching. Cutting across a small patch of grass, he headed down a darkened alleyway that ran behind the shops and then slid down the wall, crouching behind one of the tall, grey bins that stank of rotting food. The knife fell from his fingers and lay at his feet, slick with red, it no longer looked like a spear of destiny it simply looked like an old bread knife, closing his eyes Robert started to cry.

  80

  As he rounded the corner, Lasser held his breath, when he saw Medea's car parked on the drive he let the air slither out between pursed lips. Pulling up, he turned off the engine and climbed out. He was halfway along the path when the front door opened and Medea smiled out at him.

  'Evening, stranger.'

  As soon as he reached her he took her in his arms and kissed her, when he pulled away she looked at him in surprise.

  'What've I done to deserve that?'

  'I've missed you; now grab your coat we're going out.'

  'Going out where?'

  'Anywhere, I don't care.'

  She tilted her head and smiled at him, 'What's this all about?'

  'Nothing, I just fancied getting out of the house.'

  'But you haven't got in it yet.'

  Easing her to one side, he marched into the hall before grabbing her jacket from the banister rail. 'Come on, let's go.'

  'But I was going to cook us something.'

  'Forget it, we can eat out.'

  Shrugging into her coat, she followed him down the drive and climbed into the car.

  'Are you sure about this?' she asked.

  'Positive, I'm sick of neglecting you…'

  'Have you heard me complain?'

  Lasser looked at her and smiled. 'That's not the point, I know you Medea, you're too nice to complain, but it's not right. You deserve more than sitting in that bloody house on your own…'

  'But I've been at work till five. It's not as if I'm sitting there all day twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to come home.'

  Lasser reversed down the drive and they set off along the street. 'I realise that but let's face it, you could be out having a good time instead of waiting for me to put in an appearance.'

  Medea slid her hair from the collar of her jacket; it tumbled over her shoulders in waves. 'Does Bannister know you're slacking?'

  'I don't care, I've been on duty since half-six this morning, it's now ten to eight, that's enough by anyone's standards and if it's not, then tough.'

  'So what do you want to do?'

  'I thought we could have a ride out to Rivington.'

  'I've told you, I'm not going dogging.'

  Lasser grinned, 'Spoilsport.' When his phone rang, he reached over to click it off.

  Medea grabbed his wrist. 'Don't.'

  'What?'

  She sighed. 'You can't ignore it.'

  'Wanna bet.'

  He tried to reach forward again and she tightened her grip. 'Please, just answer it.'

  'But…'

  'No ''but''s, how can I relax knowing Bannister's trying to get in touch?'

  Pulling over to the kerb, he yanked on the handbrake. 'Are you sure about this?'

  She nodded and handed him the mobile. 'Positive.'

  81

  'Calm down.'

  'Fuck off,' Robert hissed, cringing against the bins; he heard the sound of sirens growing, until they filled his head, the sound of pursuit, the sound of entrapment. Robert slumped back down to the ground and covered his head with his hands.

  'If you stay here, they'll catch you. Is that what you want?'

  Twisting away, Robert placed his cheek against the cool metal of the bins. 'You said I was invisible, you said they wouldn't be able to see me.'

  'I lied.'

  Robert clamped his hands over his ears, though ultimately he knew it would make no difference. 'You laughed at me.'

  'Grow up, Robert; you always were a whingeing brat.'

  'You said…'

  'Never mind what I said. Now do you want to carry on having fun or shall w
e wait here until they turn up with the dogs?'

  Robert cocked his head as if he could already hear the distant baying of hounds.

  'You promise you won't trick me again?'

  'I promise nothing, not until I know you're worth the effort. Now get up.'

  Robert scrambled to his feet confused by the words. 'Where are we going?'

  'Where do you think?'

  'No, I can't go there, not now, it'll be too dangerous.'

  The voice sighed. 'That's why I got you to cut the bitch in the car park. They'll all be there trying to find you, trying to hunt you down and sooner or later they'll move out into the town, start searching the back streets and alleyways…'

  'I want to go back to the woods, back to the house.'

  'So you can lie there in the dirt and snivel like a dog?'

  'I…'

  'Walk, Robert, you know the address.'

  'But…'

  'Fucking do it!' the voice screamed, this time there was no cajoling, no gentle persuasion. It was a demand that couldn't be ignored, it obliterated all thought, leaving only the command.

  Robert scuttled along the alleyway, a shadow moving in the darkness, the fear running rampant through his soul.

  'Check your pockets.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Pockets, you moron!'

  When he pulled his hand free, Robert looked at the short blade encased in the moulded plastic sleeve in amazement.

  'Thank you,' he whispered.

  'See, I told you I'd take care of you.'

  'But that's what you said before.'

  It seemed an eternity before the voice answered. 'Keep walking. Robert.'

  82

  Medea watched as Lasser strode away from the car. The blue lights of the ambulance swirled, splashing across the crowd of shoppers who stood watching as the drama unfolded. When the siren began to screech, people covered their ears, faces pinched in shock. The ambulance weaved its way through the parked cars. As soon as it was clear, the ambulance bolted forward and headed for the exit, narrowly missing colliding with a police van that hurtled into the car park.