Twisted

by Robin Roughley

  'I asked you a question, Carver!'

  Shaun stopped and looked over his shoulder. 'He's in a house just over the top of the hill.'

  'There are no houses up there.'

  The torchlight swept back towards Shaun, who stood looking back at them. 'I'm telling you…'

  'You want to give us the slip don't you?'

  'Listen, you asked me to take you to where Flynn's been staying and that's what I'm doing. Now if you want to stay here it's up to you, but I'm going ahead.'

  'I know these woods, at the top of the hill is the golf course there are no houses for at least a mile in that direction.'

  'Are you sure?' Bannister asked with a frown.

  'You're taking the piss aren't you, Shaun, you'll drag us all the way up there and then give us the slip?'

  'Like I said, you stay here if you want,' Shaun turned and set off walking. Bannister stood between them like the piggy in the middle, the light in his hand jittered back and forth.

  'Lasser, are you sure?' he hissed.

  'Positive, if we follow him then we're fucked.'

  'Carver, stay exactly where you are!' Bannister barked.

  Shaun turned slowly and glared. 'It'll take you forever to find the house.'

  'It will if we listen to your bullshit,' Lasser fired back. 'I mean; you're treating this as if it's some game. Now your life might be worthless, but if you keep messing us about then others will die and do you really want another corpse on your conscience, because I'm sure I don't?'

  Shaun took a backward step and Lasser expected him to bolt, then the man's shoulders sagged and he kicked at the leaf-littered floor in anger. Bannister kept the torch trained straight at him, ready to give chase if he decided to run. Then Shaun sighed and moved towards them.

  'This way,' was all he said.

  Bannister blew out through pursed lips and threw Lasser a weary smile.

  'I don't trust the bastard,' the DCI whispered.

  'Join the club,' Lasser replied before heading off along the path.

  149

  Dawes leaned down and flipped Robert onto his back before raising his hand, three inches of pristine steel protruded from his clenched fist. Robert looked at him with eyes like glass, fragile and vacant.

  'Goodbye, Robert,' Dawes whispered.

  Then Robert's right hand shot forward, the chunk of rock slammed into the side of the doctor's head sending him staggering to the left. Dawes grunted in pain and shook his head, blood sprayed from the gash that ran from temple to chin.

  Falling to one knee, Dawes snapped his head around in time to see Robert Flynn bolt through the door. Swiping the blood from his eyes, he flicked the torch onto full beam before staggering to the exit. The torch picked up the fleeing figure and Dawes snarled in hatred before setting off in pursuit.

  Robert barrelled along the narrow path his arms and legs thrashing through the undergrowth. He could hear the doctor giving chase, branches creaked as he closed the gap, the ground seemed to boom to the sound of Dawes hiking boots.

  Terror flooded every part of him, Robert ran with the certain knowledge that his fun and games were coming to an end.

  When he saw the flickering light in the distance, he stopped running and peered along the path in confusion. Somehow, the doctor had leapt forward; maybe he'd taken to the sky or leapt from tree to tree. Robert pissed his pants as his brain filled in the gaps. Dawes soaring above, a huge black shadow, playing with him, unravelling his mind, before…Robert started to cry, he wanted his mother, but she was long dead, rotted away beneath the clay-filled earth.

  Throwing a terrified look over his shoulder, he gasped when he saw Dawes sprinting towards him, his coat flapping in the wind, the right side of his face slick with dark blood.

  For a couple of seconds, the beam of light pinned him to the spot. Snapping his head around, he saw the other light growing closer.

  'Get off the path!' The voice echoed inside his head and Robert shot to the left. Brambles snarled at his legs, nettle stings bloomed on his hands and still he ran on. A thin branch whipped back and lashed his face, Robert cried out in pain and then he could hear other voices shouting. He had no idea what they were saying, but he knew they were closing him down.

  Another high-powered beam suddenly joined the torchlight, and Robert Flynn was running in his own personal spotlight.

  Bannister never saw the thick tree root; it lay hidden beneath a scattering of last year's rotting leaves, slick with slime. His right foot landed on the root and immediately shot from beneath him, Bannister catapulted to the right, the torch fell from his grasping fingers. When he hit the ground, he felt the rib crack beneath him. Pain flared and he gasped in a short snatch of air that sent more agony shooting through his chest.

  Lasser spun around, his light landing on Bannister's contorted face.

  'Are you OK?'

  Bannister's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Lasser took a hesitant step towards him, and suddenly Bannister was jabbing a finger to the left.

  'Get the fucker!' he gasped before groaning and rolling onto his back.

  Lasser spun away, Carver was fifteen yards ahead, flicking the torch to the left, he pinned Flynn in the beam as he crashed through the undergrowth. As soon as Shaun saw the light hone in on Robert, he spun left and gave chase.

  'Fuck!' Lasser snarled and set off in pursuit. Everything became fragmented, seen through a mad kaleidoscopic blur of light. He'd travelled ten feet when a bramble snatched at his ankle, the thorns biting deep. Lasser tumbled head first into the twisted vines, his knees ploughing through the soft earth leaving twin scars in the black ground.

  Cursing, he thrashed his legs free and bolted back to his feet, the light lanced out, but there was no sign of Carver or Flynn. Hissing in a breath Lasser listened, when someone started to scream, he snapped left and set off running, ignoring the thorns that tore at his flesh.

  The wind screeched as another scream blasted out from the trees.

  Robert bolted up the embankment, screaming as he ran. His feet slithered on the wet grass and he grabbed handfuls of foliage as he laboured up the steep incline. He could hear heavy grunts behind him, sounding like some wild animal giving chase, a beast with sharp claws and dagger-like teeth made to rip and gouge. When he slipped to his knees, he began to cry harder, scurrying forward on all fours, like some primeval Stone Age man crawling onto dry land for the first time. As he reached the top, the wind howled – tossing his hair, pulling at his clothes. Grasping the wire fence, Robert threw himself over, landing heavily on the other side he leapt to his feet and bolted. Then something slammed into him from behind and he pitched forward onto the steel rail.

  Robert looked up in confusion. For a couple of seconds, he was back in the forest tied to the tree with the twine biting deep into his neck. Every part of him pulsated with pain, the side of his head felt strangely flat as if the pressure from the doctor's boot had warped his skull.

  'Remember me, Robert?' Shaun hissed as he leaned over the body.

  Lasser yanked at the thorny vines that held him, one wrapped around his left leg just above the knee, and another snaked around his right arm. Lasser smashed the torch down and snarled as the thorns sliced into his leg.

  'Fucking bastard!' he screamed, his anger lost to the howl of the wind.

  An image of Cathy ram raided into his head, Cathy smiling, Cathy looking at him over the rim of a wine glass, her eyes sparkling with life and vitality. Then he could see her body sprawled at the side of the shed, snuffed out for no reason by the man he was chasing.

  His hand came down in a vicious swipe, all rational thought blasted from his mind, murder flooded in to take its place. Lasser thrashed the torch up and down, he could feel the blood sliding down from the gash in his leg, and then he was free. Screaming his rage, he bolted forward and surged up the embankment, cold fury driving him on.

  Robert Flynn looked up at him with bemusement, his eyes wide and infantile.

  'I'm so
rry, Robert, but believe me you're better off out of it.' Reaching behind, Shaun yanked the hunting knife from his belt. Gemma watched him from the wings, a look of sorrow in her pale-green eyes.

  'I need to do this,' Shaun hissed.

  Robert peered up at him in confusion, his head was resting on the cold steel, he could feel sharp stones digging into his back, his eyes flicked to the right, and suddenly his gaze erupted with terror.

  Shaun frowned and then he felt the pain flare like a hot wire on the back of his neck. His body jerked, his arms flew into the air, and then he was falling sideways. Shaun could see Robert's mouth working but suddenly all sound was lost to him, the screech of the wind ceased to exist, the shadows melded into one.

  Gemma opened her arms to him.

  Lasser leapt over the thin wire fence, the torchlight picked up the silver rails of the train track. The beam fell on the chaotic jumble of bodies before him; he caught a fragmented glimpse of Shaun Carver stretched out on the ground, his arms thrown wide, crucifixion style.

  As he bulleted forward, Lasser saw a dark shape leaning over a body that thrashed and twitched. Flynn!

  'Bastard!' Lasser screamed and hurled himself forward.

  Collier Dawes snapped his head around in surprise, raising the short blade as Lasser slammed into him.

  As they flew sideways, Lasser heard the doctor grunt in pain. They landed between the rails with Lasser on top. Dawes lashed out and Lasser gasped as the blade sliced into his shoulder. Dawes glared up at him, his eyes overflowing with malice. Then his arm bolted forward, the knife driving forward towards Lasser's left eye. Snapping his head left and down, Lasser felt the blade sizzle across the top of his skull.

  Driving his right fist into Dawes's ribs he felt the doctor jerk in surprise, Lasser risked a glance up. Dawes was in the process of raising his right hand, the scalpel poking out from his clenched fist. Lasser threw up his left arm blocking the blow and then he shot forward, slamming his forehead into Dawes broad nose.

  Blood sprayed, the doctor bellowed in agony. Then Lasser squirmed forward, before sinking his teeth in the heavy flesh of Dawes right cheek. This time the shrink made a sound like a small animal trapped in some agonising snare.

  Lasser tasted blood and shook his head, tearing off a chunk of tissue, before thrusting himself backwards. Snapping a look to the left, he saw Flynn snaking away on his stomach. Leaning forward, Lasser spat the flesh into Dawes upturned face, then he swung his right leg, his boot crashed into the side of the man's head and Dawes's eyes fluttered before closing.

  Lasser scrambled to his feet and strode forward; Robert had stopped crawling, he lay across the cold metal rail face down, both hands covering the back of his head.

  'You fucker!' Lasser screamed as he looked down at the prostrate figure. It was hard to fathom that this one man had terrorized the town for what seemed like an age. His clothes were filthy, his black hair smeared to his skull.

  Lasser dug the toe of his shoe into Robert's ribs and watched as the man jack-knifed and twisted his head around.

  'Please!'

  'Please what?' Lasser asked.

  Robert wiped a shaking hand under his nose, leaving a trail of snot on his cheek. 'Please don't hurt me.'

  'I bet that's just what Marsha Rimmer said to you.'

  Robert blinked. 'I don't know anyone called Marsha.'

  Lasser looked into Flynn's saucer eyes. 'What about Cathy Harper?'

  'I…'

  'Or John Spenner?'

  Robert snapped his head from side to side in an exaggerated motion. 'It wasn't me, it was him.'

  Lasser frowned and followed Flynn's finger. Dawes lay on his back, his open mouth gathering rainwater, his face a grisly splash of red.

  'Dawes?'

  Robert swallowed. 'He killed my sister, and then he told me what to do, where to go, who to kill.'

  A blast of thunder rumbled overhead, a couple of seconds later; everything was bathed in the lightning flash.

  When Lasser turned, Flynn was gazing up at him in wonderment as if he'd just witnessed the second coming. Falling to his knees, he grabbed the collar of Flynn's jacket before yanking him up. Pushing his face in close, Lasser locked eyes with the mad man.

  Suddenly Lasser could hear a deep thrumming sound, the rumble of death growing ever closer. Gritting his teeth, he ignored it. 'It makes no fucking difference to me, Flynn; all I care about is the people you slaughtered.'

  'I never meant to be bad,' Robert Flynn started to cry.

  Lasser shifted his grip, locking his hands around Robert's throat, as the train bulleted around the curve the headlights lanced out and pinned them to the spot. 'Yeah well, neither did I,' he tightened his grip.

  Robert Flynn closed his eyes.

  Lasser bore down, his fingers probing into the open flesh of Robert Flynn's throat. The sound of the train filled his mind, his brain spluttered and he could see an image of Medea in tears as they told her the news.

  'Sorry,' he mumbled and closed his eyes. Then he was hit hard from behind, he tried to keep his hands locked on Flynn's throat but suddenly he was lunging forward, by the time he hit the mulched floor, he was unconscious.

  150

  Bannister winced as he pulled the cigarettes from his pocket.

  Lasser dragged one free before sparking up. 'I fucked up,' he said.

  Bannister sighed and looked out of the car window, the wipers swept away yet more rain, the surface of the road ran with water. Twisting in his seat, he looked at Lasser, his hair had been shaved short, the line of stitches clear to see. 'Give yourself a break. The whole thing was a car crash from start to finish.'

  'Do we have any idea what actually happened?'

  Bannister shrugged before flicking the cigarette from the window. 'Well, if Flynn was telling you the truth and Dawes was the one who killed his sister then it explains why he was there in the woods.'

  'And Dawes killed Fleming?'

  'Shannon said the knife used on Fleming is a match for the one Dawes had with him.'

  Lasser closed his eyes. It had been three days since the madness in the woods; he remembered waking with Bannister at his side, at first he thought he'd died and gone to hell.

  It had taken the crime scene people two days to find what remained of the three bodies. Collier Dawes legs had been found hanging from a nearby tree; his torso had been discovered half a mile down the track.

  All that remained of Robert Flynn's head had been a smear of red on the rails and half a dozen yellow teeth mixed in with the quartz chips by the side of the track. Shaun Carver had been sliced into three equal parts, almost as if he'd been lying directly across the tracks waiting patiently for the oncoming train.

  'We've been talking with some of Collier Dawes patients, and it looks as if he were using his position to manipulate the vulnerable.'

  'Well there's a surprise.'

  Bannister threw him a sour look. 'So, perhaps Flynn was telling the truth. His sister was a patient of Dawes for a while and according to the guy who owned the takeaway, Dawes called at the flat on more than one occasion.'

  'And the link with Fleming?'

  'Hard to tell, but if I had to take a guess then I'd suggest they were both bent fuckers. Each knew of the others perversions and maybe Dawes panicked when Claire Oxbury told him about Flynn's accusations against Fleming.'

  'So Dawes goes for a quite word with Captain Pugwash and things get out of hand?'

  Bannister hitched his shoulders. 'It's a possibility.'

  Lasser took a pull on the cigarette and blew smoke through the narrow gap.

  'And what about Shaun Carver?' he asked.

  'His mother's devastated; his father thinks he's a hero. He's been talking to that bastard Brewster. According to the press, Carver should be given a medal, and we should be dipped in hot tar and tied to the nearest lamppost.'

  Lasser sighed. 'So they're having a field day?'

  'What do you think? They're camped outside Sarah Palmer's house a
nd I can't imagine either of them will be keen to talk, not after their run in with Brewster. Flynn murdered four people that we know of and hospitalised three more. He ran rings around the lot of us and as far as the press are concerned it took a civilian to bring him down.'

  'What about Wilson?'

  Bannister raised an eyebrow. 'He scuttled back to Liverpool sharpish; the last thing he wants is to be tarred with the same brush.'

  'So he just walks away?' Lasser snarled.

  'Come on, Lasser, you know what the man's like.'

  'But what about Cathy, if he hadn't pulled Scott and Sharma from the house then she'd still be alive?'

  'You could also say if we'd persuaded them to move to a safe house then no one would have been in the firing line.'

  'So it's our fault. Is that what you're telling me?' Lasser asked in disgust.

  'No, but that's the way, Wilson will paint it.'

  'Twat!'

  A double decker bus rumbled past throwing water onto the pavement.

  Bannister cleared his throat. 'How are things between you and Medea?'

  Lasser looked at Bannister through narrowed eyes. 'Why do you ask?'

  'I take it you told her about you and Cathy Harper?'

  'Yeah, I told her.'

  'And how did she take it?'

  Lasser stabbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. 'Has she said anything to Suzanne?'

  Bannister let out a tired sigh. 'Come on, Lasser, it's natural.'

  'What did Suzanne tell her?'

  'What could she tell her? I mean, none of us knew you and Cathy had been seeing one another.'

  Lasser grunted and looked out at the dreary scene. Market Street was deserted, most of the shops had closed early as the foul weather kept the punters at home.

  'But she did tell her you were a good guy.' Bannister said tentatively.

  Lasser looked at his boss and tossed him a blank smile. 'I would have killed Flynn if Carver hadn't dropped me.'

  'Yeah well, that didn't happen.'

  'But…'

  'Look, Lasser, I know what it's like to lose control, to be that close to killing some bastard that nothing else matters. Flynn killed someone you cared about but you have to try and put it behind you. I mean, Medea deserves your full attention and if you don't feel able to give it then you should end it now, because for some reason I think she's the type of woman who'll stick by you no matter what.'