Lasser saw the sudden frown form on Lomax's face, and he knew that Rea's father was joining the dots, when he looked at Lasser the anger had evaporated from his eyes, replaced by a stark look of dread.
'If Rea called for an ambulance, then where is she now?' he asked in a tremulous voice.
This time Lasser could do nothing about the sigh that slipped from his lips.
'I'm sorry, Mr Lomax, I have no idea,' Lasser admitted as he felt the tension inside bloom.
Suddenly Lomax tried to lunge forward to get at the car, but Lasser grabbed him again and held on tight.
'It's him, if he knocked the woman down, my Rea would have insisted on ringing for an ambulance, she would have stayed with the poor woman, so he must have done something to her after she made the call!'
Lasser tightened his grip. 'Listen I know this is difficult but the longer you stand here shouting and bawling then the longer it will take us to get to the truth,' Lasser warned, making sure he locked eyes with Lomax.
Rea's father started to shake with a mixture of anger and fear and then he stepped back and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves.
'Please, Mr Lomax, just get in the van and go home, as soon as I know more, I'll contact you,' Lasser promised, before opening the door of the Audi and getting behind the wheel.
In the back Draper cringed, his head lowered as he realised what he had done, all his worst fears coming true as the car pulled away from the kerb, leaving Dan Lomax standing on the pavement, a broken man full of pain and anger, watching as the car drove away.
16
Bannister looked at the shelves crammed with supplements, powders, and tablets in large plastic bottles, most had labels that showed some bodybuilder grinning and looking as if their head was about to explode.
'What do these people actually eat?' he asked, closing the cupboard door.
'I have no idea,' Odette replied before pulling the fridge door open to reveal more bottles of gunk.
'I mean, I can understand the benefits of taking a one-a-day multivitamin, but morons like Nash take it too far,' Bannister grumbled as he glanced in the fridge before heading into the hallway.
Spenner was standing in the lounge, staring in disbelief at the huge image on the wall, it showed Nash oiled up, muscles bulging, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of skin-coloured trunks, he had a naked woman perched on one arm, her feet off the ground as she smiled for the camera, dodgy hair extensions covering her breasts.
'Jesus Christ, will you look at that,' the DCI said with a disbelieving shake of his head.
Spenner glanced at him and grimaced. 'Grim, isn't it,' he said just as Odette walked into the room.
'Have you seen this, Odette?' Bannister asked as he pointed at the framed picture.
'I'd sooner not,' she replied as she averted her eyes.
'What sort of narcissist would have a picture of themselves on the wall wearing nothing but budgie smugglers, and who the bloody hell is the woman!?'
'No idea,' Spenner replied.
Bannister sighed heavily in disgust. 'Well, it's not his wife that's for sure, but imagine being her and seeing that every day, I mean, what sort of man would do something like that to a woman he's meant to love?'
Odette turned and headed for the stairs leaving Bannister looking at the picture in loathing, like some art critic ready to give a scathing review of the image.
Two of the stairs creaked as she made her way up, reaching the landing she headed into the first bedroom on the left, the room had weights and dumbbells on the floor and more images of bodybuilders on the wall. Heading to the next bedroom, she pushed the door open and frowned when she saw the laptop open on the bed. The screen showed an image of a woman on the floor of some nondescript room, the muscle-bound man who stood over her had his foot planted on her neck, the look of distress on her face appeared genuine. Odette felt the sense of anger and disgust sweep through her as she stepped into a room that had more than the whiff of testosterone about it.
When she saw the wad of crumpled tissues on the floor her sense of disgust increased.
Then Bannister appeared at her shoulder, she felt him tense, and she knew what was coming next.
'Dirty bastard,' he grumbled.
'It looks as if the ''impotence'' could be way off the mark,' she said before pointing at the wad of tissues.
Bannister stepped forward, looking closely at the image on the screen, his face flushed with burgeoning fury. 'Now we know where he gets his violence-towards-women attitude from.'
Odette made no reply as she opened the wardrobe doors to reveal a selection of huge T-shirts dangling from hangers along with jogging pants and jeans, one shelf was lined with bottles of aftershave and tanning lotions, even though Nash was bald there was a bottle of hair gel and a set of grooming clippers.
'Ponce,' Bannister commented as he looked over her shoulder at the contents of the wardrobe.
Then he moved to her left and she heard him opening the set of drawers by the side of the bed.
'More product in here,' he claimed.
Odette turned; Bannister was holding up a tube-shaped bottle.
'I mean, how much grease do these bodybuilders need and why the hell would you smother yourself with the shit whilst in the bedroom?' he asked.
Odette looked at him but there was no hint of irony on his face, and she coughed lightly before slipping her hand into her pockets.
'It's a sexual lubricant not body oil,' she corrected.
Bannister's eyes widened, suddenly seeing that the bottle he was holding resembled an erect knob. Throwing it back into the drawer he shivered and shook his head again.
'Bloody oddball.'
Odette couldn't help but smile. 'It's not illegal.'
'I never said it was, but if he was half the man he pretends to be then he wouldn't need lubricant or these,' he said as he lifted the blue strip of Viagra from the drawer. 'He pumps himself so full of shit that he can't perform and then he watches shite like that,' he paused to jab a finger at the laptop, 'the frustration builds, and the ''big man'' takes it out on his wife.'
Odette nodded in agreement. 'Question is, what can we do about it?'
'Pressurise the bastard until he realises that his bullying days are over.'
'It won't be easy.'
Thrusting the drawer closed, Bannister yanked the next one open. 'It might not be easy, but he needs…' he suddenly stopped talking as he reached into the drawer and lifted out the rubber mask, the front elongated like the snout of a pig.
Odette grimaced as the DCI shook his head.
'What a bloody world,' he said with a sigh.
17
After making sure Draper was secure in the holding cell, Lasser made his way through the station and now he stood in Carole Henson's office explaining his fears about the missing Rea Lomax.
The more she heard the deeper her frown became and by the time he had finished, her expression was one of acute concern.
'Are you sure about this?' she asked.
Lasser shrugged his heavy shoulders. 'According to her father, Rea isn't the type of woman to just vanish. We know she put the call in, she did the right thing, we also know she was on foot after Draper abandoned her at the side of the road.'
Carole eased her chair closer to the desk, the wheels squeaking like a hamster wheel spinning at full speed. 'Have we had any luck identifying the victim?' she asked.
'Nothing, she had no ID on her, not even a phone, and who leaves the house without their phone in this day and age?'
'Hardly anyone' Carole agreed.
Lasser paused for a moment as he tried to get his thoughts in order. 'If she was the one responsible for the track across the field then she must have been running for a good while, the nearest B-road is at least two miles away from where she was found,' he explained.
Carole fiddled with a file on her desk, before sliding it into a drawer. 'I don't like this, Sergeant, I don't like it one bit,' she admitted.
&n
bsp; 'Well, Sally Wright is taking a statement from Draper, we know that we won't be able to hold him for long, but I was going to head back to Hamley road and see how far the track goes.'
'Right, I'm coming with you,' she said, rising to her feet.
Five minutes later, Lasser was driving through the gates and onto the road, Carole in the passenger seat. She could feel her concern grow as they headed across town, traffic was light for the time of day, so they made good time and ten minutes later they were in open countryside. Sliding the window down slightly, she breathed in the warm spring air though it did little to dampen her deep sense of concern.
The road began to narrow, and Lasser slowed down to take a left turn, his hands resting easily on the wheel, his gaze watchful, the fields on either side stretching out into the distance.
When Carole spotted the twin tyre marks on the surface of the road, she felt herself shiver just as Lasser slowed to a halt, then she looked to the left and sure enough she could see the trampled grass leading across the sun-kissed field.
Seconds later, they were out of the car and Lasser beeped on the alarm as they moved to the left. Carole looked down at where the tyre marks began, picturing the victim being thrown into the air as the car slammed into her, before crashing to the ground, the blood and…
'I wonder if anyone will ever put flowers here?' Lasser asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Carole said nothing as she stepped onto the path of trampled grass, Lasser following as they made their way into the field.
'A nice place to walk or jog, but not at gone midnight and not on your own,' Carole commented, the noise of their shoes brushing through the grass sounding loud in the silence.
'We know Draper is a lying shit,' Lasser paused, 'but I believe him when he said the woman dashed out in front of him.'
'You think she was trying to flag him down?' she asked, glancing up as a heron went flying by, it's slow wingbeats and trailing legs making it unmistakeable.
'Yeah, and I think Draper was too pissed and probably angry because Rea had insisted on getting out of the car,' Lasser answered.
'So, the victim was desperately trying to reach to the car before Draper went driving past.'
Lasser scanned the ground as they walked, looking for any sign that would back up his theory that the unknown woman was trying to escape from someone who had been chasing her.
Reaching the boundary of hawthorn bushes, they climbed over the wooden stile and again the path led across the adjacent field. Without uttering a word, they set off walking again, Lasser lit a cigarette, smoke trailing over his right shoulder.
'If she was being chased then it stands to reason that someone must have been doing the chasing. Rea Lomax put the call in and then she simply vanished.'
'If you're right, it could mean that whoever was after the woman was still close by when Rea came across the body,' Carole suggested.
Lasser took another hurried pull on the cigarette. 'Yeah, but they must have stayed hidden until after she called the emergency services.'
'Then whoever was responsible snatched her and backtracked this way,' Carole finished as they continued to follow the path of trampled grass.
The sky was a perfect blue though it did nothing to lighten Lasser's dark mood.
The hit and run had been bad enough, but now they had the disappearance of Rea Lomax to contend with, and the more he thought about it the more he feared for her safety.
Draper had tried to cover his tracks with his bullshit about Rea wanting to hit the nightclubs and then saying he had taken the long way home in order to fill up with petrol. He had no doubt that whoever the victim was, she would have died instantly, the trauma to her head had been too severe for her to survive, but Draper hadn't known that because he hadn't even bothered to check.
Flicking the cigarette to the ground, he planted his shoe on the stump as they strode forward. In moments of extreme distress, people panicked, he knew that, and an individual could act out of character. He had seen it enough in this job, but the lies Draper had told in the hope of saving his own skin pointed to someone who thought of themselves first, and he couldn't abide that at the best of times. Now they had one woman dead and another missing, and it could all be traced back to Draper's actions. If he hadn't been pissed then he might well have seen the woman as she ran from the field, he would have been able to stop and help her. Instead, he had mowed her down and now it was looking as if whoever had been chasing the victim was also responsible for the disappearance of Rea Lomax.
Carole came to an abrupt halt, and Lasser moved to her shoulder, the ditch was blocking the way, around three feet deep with a trickle of water at the bottom. Lasser's eyes widened as he saw the imprint in the softer earth, the tread from the shoe looked to be around a size ten and a few inches in front was another print though this one was smaller and showed a zig zag type of tread in the dirt.
'We need Carl to take a look at these and get casts made,' Carole said pulling the phone from her pocket.
Lasser shuffled forward and looked at the opposite bank, though there was no sign of any other footprints.
Carole sighed as the phone droned. 'The truth is that there's nothing we can do to help the woman who was knocked down, but if you're right about this then whoever was chasing the victim has now taken Rea Lomax.'
Lasser ran a hand across the back of his neck, his face thoughtful. When Carole started to speak into the phone he leapt across the ditch, the grass in the next field had recently been cropped and he sighed as he realised it was impossible to tell if the attacker had come back this way with Rea Lomax as his…'
'Prisoner,' he mumbled as the sun continued to shimmer in the clear sky of blue.
18
The man strode beneath the towering trees, shafts of bright light hitting the forest floor, the occasional birdsong trilled into the hushed air.
He had spent the night thinking things through and although he had the woman named Rea Lomax safely locked away, he was still furious about the fact that Julie Emmeret was dead. He had sat in front of the crackling log fire, the laptop on his knees as he read the news reports about the hit and run on the country lane.
When he came to the clip of the poodle-haired reporter doing his piece to camera, he had smiled in recognition.
'My God, Brewster is still alive and kicking,' he said with a shake of the head.
It had been a long time since he had last seen the reporter and he looked a lot older and somehow shabbier now. The last time he had heard about the man it had been something to do with the reporter having a near-death experience at the hands of some maniac in a wheelchair.
From the look of the image on the screen the ordeal had aged Brewster, his face appeared haggard, his pubic-curled hairdo looked ridiculous as he spoke about the death on Hamley Road.
In the end, he had clicked off the report, his anger growing as he thought about the waste and the loss of someone he had admired greatly.
Julie had been special; she had been handpicked because he had known she would have provided a real challenge and he'd had no doubt that she would have gone on to do great things, monumental things.
Closing his eyes, he had thought back to the one before Julie and his face settled into a grimace as he remembered his acute sense of disappointment. She had been twenty-two years old, fit, and healthy and yet she had refused to run, refused to take the opportunity to save her own life.
He pictured her standing there shaking her head as he waited for her to bolt.
'I can't,' she had gasped out the words, her face fraught with fear as her hands tugged and pulled at one another.
For a few seconds, he had been convinced that she wasn't being serious and then he had flapped his hands at her. 'You have a full minute's head start, so go, go now.'
Again, she had shaken her head, her body trembling, the tears leaking from her haunted eyes. 'Please, I can't do it, I can't run.'
The man had set the timer on his watch. 'You now have fif
ty-five seconds.'
Slowly the seconds had ticked into oblivion and his anger had spluttered to life, then he had stepped forward before pushing her back, trying in his own way to encourage her to run, and yet she had simply collapsed to the ground and immediately curled herself into a ball, hands covering her head as she continued to tremble.
It had been absolutely unbelievable, but she had remained there as the seconds counted down to zero, then he had squatted over her, his hands circling her throat, his anger boiling over at her inability to save herself, to seize the chance he had given her.
As he applied the pressure, she had twisted her head, and he had been astounded to see the sense of relief in her fading gaze. He had watched closely as she died, still amazed by the fact that she had made no effort to cling to life.
Now, as he walked beneath the trees, he shook his head at the memory, why had she been unable to run, what had stopped her? That was the thing that he had struggled to fathom.
Once she had twitched her last, he had considered burying her in a shallow grave though in the end he had concluded that if she hadn't been able to make the effort to run, then why the hell should he trouble himself by digging a hole?
So, he had put the call in and sure enough, within fifteen minutes the car had pulled up on the lane and he had waited in the back while the driver, Max, took care of the body, spade in hand.
The drive back to the house had been conducted in silence, Max behind the wheel as he sat in the back trying to comprehend what the hell had happened.
In the end, he had decided that it was no use trying to look for someone else to blame, he had chosen her because he had been convinced that he had seen steel in her eyes. She had attended the gym at least five times a week, doing a mixture of programmes, including self-defence. Physically she had been perfect, yet in the final reckoning she had fallen apart, as if she had nothing worth living for. Yet he knew she'd had a family, a sister and brother and her parents were still alive, but she had been unable to make the effort to try and escape.
Driven by Fear (The DS Lasser Book 27) Page 6