One of the hardest things was filling your time, especially when you knew that a beating was only a hair's breadth away and normally when the man or occasionally the woman returned from work the terror would start.
Talking and listening to the members of the group had been a harrowing experience, though now she knew it had ultimately given her the strength to leave her husband, something she would have done even if Barry hadn't come into her life.
The fear was still there manifesting in the threats made by Clifton, though proving he was responsible for the vile warnings had turned out to be impossible. She thought of DCI Bannister, he had been sympathetic to the point where he had called round to see her more than once to make sure she was OK. For the first time she felt she had met a policeman who seemed to understand what she was going through, but it was more than that, she had seen the latent anger in his eyes as she told him more about her husband's treatment of her.
Barry had been there, sitting by her side on the sofa as she listed the catalogue of abuse she had suffered over the years, his hand holding hers though she had kept her eyes locked on Bannister's face, afraid to look at Barry for fear of what she would see there.
Now she sighed, wondering if she would ever truly be free of her husband, she knew the type of man he was and the more someone warned him or told him not to do something then the more he would invariably ignore those warnings.
The truth was those who didn't really know him thought he was a great guy because that's the face he chose to show to the world, he worked in sales and for eight hours a day he had to smile and almost grovel in order to get the sale that would lead to commission. So, by the end of the day he would store up all that anger just for her. He would explode, and she would cower in the corner of the room as he hissed into her face, spittle flying from his twisted lips.
She had told all this to Bannister, and he had said he would sort it and the truth was she hadn't heard or seen Clifton for the past three weeks and that in itself was a miracle, though deep down she knew that the pressure would be building and eventually he would snap, and she would suffer. Though now she also had Barry to worry about, in the past she had tried to leave her hated husband more than once, though there had never been another man involved. Now, she was happy and yet, as she looked out into the garden, Erin Nash knew that it would never last, and she would pay dearly for her brief time in the sun.
Tears slid from her eyes, she was cursed, Clifton was her demon and that's all there was to it, nothing would stop him from exacting his revenge, nothing would stop him from ultimately killing her.
49
Rea walked beneath the trees, her captor by her side, he had his hands behind his back, their shoes brushing through the leaves.
When the metal door had opened, he had simply stepped back as she approached.
'I want to apologise,' he suddenly said.
Rea made no reply.
'I should never have taken you, that was wrong of me.'
She held her breath as they continued to walk.
'I don't regret what happened to Draper, but I overreacted when Julie was killed, I was furious, and I didn't think things through.'
She remained silent, her mind in turmoil as she tried to quell the feeling that his confession was leading to something important.
'I told you that Julie was special and that's the truth, she was. We had spent a lot of time together and I know you will find this hard to believe but we had become close.'
'I know nothing about any of that,' she eventually replied.
'Of course not.'
Rea tried to see something beyond the trees, but they were thick and dense and seemed to go on forever. The urge to run was building inside and yet, she knew if she did give in to the urge then she would be caught. Just like the first time and she had no idea what would happen after that, though she knew at the very least she would end up locked away again in the stunted stone chamber.
'Do you believe in fate?' he suddenly asked.
'No,' she replied without giving the question any serious consideration.
'May I ask why not?'
Rea came to a halt and turned to look at the man, his eyes were bright and curious, his lips full, face tanned as if he spent a lot of time either outdoors or abroad.
'All I know is that I tried to help that woman and if you hadn't been chasing her, she wouldn't have dashed out in front of the car. Yes, Mark knocked her down, yes, he was guilty of doing that,' she paused and swallowed the sense of fear, 'but the truth is you are the one to blame, the one who forced Julie into running in the first place.'
For a few seconds, she saw his face cloud over, the anger shining out at her and then he sighed and nodded.
'I know that's how it appears but believe me it was so much more complicated than that.'
'Then tell me how it was?' she asked as the sun poured down to the forest floor.
'Julie was special and…'
'You keep saying that, but if she was so special then why were you chasing her, why did she feel the need to run from you?'
The man shifted his feet and she saw a genuine look of tension in his eyes. 'Believe me, I will explain everything when the time is right.'
'So, you intend keeping me prisoner, is that what you're saying?'
'You don't like it here?'
Her mouth dropped open at the question and she actually saw the look of disappointment in his eyes.
'How can you even ask something like that? You kidnapped me and kept me in a freezing hellhole, you have hit me more than once, you're responsible for killing Mark, and you think I should be enjoying all this?' she fired out the words in disbelief.
The man held up his hands. 'You're upset.'
'Of course I'm upset, you idiot, I…'
Then she was reeling backwards as his right hand punched out and slammed hard between her breasts, the air blasting from her mouth as she fell back to the soft ground.
The world seemed to spin for a moment and then she took a huge gulp of air and looked up at him with tears of pain shimmering in her eyes.
He looked distressed, his shoulders slumped then he opened his mouth and bellowed out the single word. 'Max!'
Seconds later, the big man appeared through the trees, glancing at Rea, before turning to the man.
'What do you make of her, Max?'
'She has a strong will, plenty of fire.'
'Yes, but is it the right kind of will, the right kind of fire?'
Rea listened to the bizarre conversation as she continued to pant the breath back into her lungs, her mind still spinning.
'I believe it is,' Max replied as he looked at her closely with his dead eyes.
'I'm not so sure,' the man replied as he pursed his lips in thought.
'She pushed your buttons and you reacted, it's natural,' the monster who had killed Mark Draper said with a shrug of his heavy shoulders.
'Not to me it isn't.'
Rea could hear the tightness in his voice as if he had been shocked by his own actions.
'Did I use to be like that?' Max suddenly asked.
'You don't remember?'
Rea looked up, the two of them were facing one another, although they were similar in height, that is where the similarity ended, the one called Max was a giant of a man, wide in the shoulder, he looked powerful, unstoppable, whereas the one who had just lashed out appeared almost fragile in comparison, though Rea knew his strength and speed well enough.
'It seems such a long time ago and I forget things,' Max replied.
Then the man clapped a hand onto his shoulder. 'You had the fire; I have never seen a blaze like it and neither had anyone else.'
Rea frowned at the nonsensical reply, trying to make sense of the words.
'Perhaps I'm wasting my time,' the man said as he looked down at Rea. 'Perhaps she isn't worth the effort.'
'You want me to kill her?' Max asked, his expression remained blank, completely devoid of any emotion.
Rea gasped, her fee
t kicking at the leaves, leaving deep black scars in the earth beneath as she scuttled back, her heart rearing as they looked down at her.
'Question is do you have someone else in mind to take her place?' the man asked as he glanced at Max.
'There is one, he has the power, but he also has weaknesses.'
'Weaknesses?'
Max nodded, his eyes still locked onto Rea's pale face.
'The man is a wife beater,' he said.
For the first time Rea saw emotion in the dead eyes, fury shone out at her and then it vanished, and she shuffled further back, preparing herself to leap to her feet and run, her body thrumming with adrenalin.
'Is this wife beater powerful like you?' the man interrupted.
A small smile flickered across Max's broad face. 'No, he's not powerful like me.'
'I thought not.'
'Would you like to see him?'
Silence descended and Rea knew the man was trying to decide what to do, somewhere amongst the trees, birdsong trilled.
'Take her back and lock her up then get this ''wife beater'' and let's see what he's made of.'
Max said nothing as he loomed over Rea and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. Walking back through the trees, she glanced over her shoulder, the tall man was walking away, the sound of him whistling sounded shrill in the forest as she was dragged back to her stone prison.
50
'How the hell do you get into the place?' Bannister complained.
Lasser made no reply as they drove along the country lane, the ten-foot grey stone wall to their left, they had been following it for over two miles and so far, they had spotted no entrance.
They passed the Jepson Arms on the right and Bannister glanced at it, one or two cars were parked in front of the public house, the windows mullioned and plentiful.
'Why do the gentry always have a pub named after them?' he asked idly as he lit two cigarettes and handed one over.
'Bit like the Radfield family,' Lasser said as he took a quick pull on the cigarette.
'That was before my time.'
Lasser slid into fourth gear, his right hand resting easily on the wheel. 'They had a boozer named after them, and a library, plus cottages and a few shops, trouble is they were skint.'
'Simms was involved in that, wasn't he?'
Lasser nodded as he thought of his old boss dying on the moors once owned by the Radfield family, the bullets screaming through the dark, the wind howling over the endless miles of open ground, the black sky thunderous with threatening cloud, adding to the terror of the night that Simms died.
'Yeah, he was,' Lasser sighed.
Bannister glanced at him from the corner of his eye. 'Simms was a top man, a bit old school but got the job done.'
'You'll get no argument from me on that score,' Lasser agreed.
'I remember him telling me about you, he said you had a ''bloody big chip'' on your shoulder.'
'He said that?' Lasser asked with a frown.
'Well, words to that affect,' Bannister replied with a sly smile.
Half a minute later, they drove past Jepson's post office, an elderly woman exiting the shop pulling a tartan trolley on wheels behind her, her hair covered with a headscarf.
'Like a time warp,' Lasser commented as they left the post office behind, tall trees on either side of the road, the branches overhanging like lovers reaching out to one another.
'I bet the pace of life around here is nice and slow, nothing to rush about for, idyllic.'
'Some might say boring,' Lasser suggested.
'Says the man who lives on the canal.'
'Point taken,' Lasser slowed down for a tight right-hand bend.
'There,' Bannister barked as he pointed to a break in the wall.
Lasser drew up and turned the wheel, the Audi pulling onto the long drive, the wrought iron gates standing open, each one had what they assumed was an ancient family crest worked into the iron.
The drive was lined with trees that ran in straight lines and the light dimmed as they drove forward into a tunnel of green.
'Wonder if Jepson has a butler?' Bannister pondered before flicking the cigarette through the open window.
'You would have been horsewhipped for that in the past,' Lasser commented before following suit.
'I'd like to see the buggers try,' the DCI said darkly.
Half a minute later, they were still driving along the lane, the view unchanging.
'Are you sure this is the right place?' Bannister questioned, the beginnings of a frown plucking at his forehead.
'Well, it has to lead somewhere and how many people have a coat of arms on the gates?'
Before Bannister could reply, the lane widened, and the house came into view.
'Jesus, look at the size of the place.'
Lasser did just that, his eyes widening as they drew closer to the house, although the word 'house' did little to describe the sheer scale of the place.
'Did you know this was even here?' Bannister asked.
'Not a clue, and I've lived in the area my whole life,' Lasser admitted.
'Well, it's a million miles away from Hindley where you grew up that's for sure,' Bannister pointed out.
Lasser made no reply as his eyes took in the view that unfolded before them.
The grounds in front of the house consisted of a huge sloping lawn area, bushes and trees grew in abundance though there was nothing haphazard about the layout, they had all been planted in strict symmetrical patterns, the bushes sculptured into perfect shape, the grass a vibrant green.
Lasser thought of Radfield's place, the gardens had been overgrown, the house showing signs of age, the gutters had leaked, the windows rotting in their frames, the paint peeling.
This place looked immaculate and Lasser instantly knew that Jepson didn't have a cash flow problem. Tarmac gave way to gravel, and the wheels of the Audi sunk slightly as they drew up in front of the bewildering property.
Bannister twisted in his seat. 'Never seen a place as big,' he mumbled as he unclipped the seat belt and got out of the car.
Lasser followed suit and they stood in the silence, the shadow cast by the huge house stretching out towards them, the sheer size of the place blocking out the full glare of the sun.
'Makes Haigh Hall look like a doll's house,' Bannister said as he looked at the windows lined up in regimental order.
Lasser could see furniture in some of the rooms, leather sofas galore and cabinets of polished oak.
The front door looked wide enough to drive the car through and was set back in the thick stone walls of mellow sandstone, the hardwood door studded with iron rivets.
Lasser looked up, statues lined the roof of the house, no doubt modelled on ancient Romans, turrets poked up into the late afternoon sky, there was even a flag flying with the coat of arms emblazoned on the material.
'Can't see a doorbell,' Bannister pondered.
'Should have bought a battering ram from the station,' Lasser replied as they headed for the door.
Rubbing at his chin, the DCI banged his hand on the woodwork before wincing in pain. 'Christ, that's hard,' he complained, rubbing his hands together.
When they heard the crunch of gravel, they turned to see a tall man walking towards them, dressed in jeans and a hooded top, a smile lighting his angular face.
'Can I help you?' he asked as he came to a halt.
'We're looking for a Mr Jepson,' Bannister replied.
'Ah, that will be me,' Jepson beamed.
Dipping a hand into his pocket, Bannister lifted out his identification. 'My name's DCI Bannister and this is Detective Sergeant Lasser.'
'Oh dear, is there a problem?' Jepson asked, the smile slipping slightly.
Taking a step towards the man, Bannister slipped the ID back into his pocket. 'Earlier this morning we were talking to one of your tenant farmers, there was a hit and run on a road close to his farm and…'
'Hamley Road,' Jepson interrupted.
'T
hat's right.'
'I heard it on the news, sounds like a terrible business.'
'Believe me it was,' Bannister nodded in agreement.
'Look, would you two like to come in, I can put the kettle on or perhaps you'd prefer a cold drink?'
'That would be appreciated,' Bannister said with a brusque nod.
'Right then, gents, follow me,' Jepson angled left walking along the front of the huge house, his stride long. 'I assume you spoke to Dyer, he works the land that includes Hamley Road and I know for a fact that people travel along that road at speed, I mean, as far as I'm concerned a fifty mile an hour speed limit is way too high for somewhere like that.'
'When was the last time you were over there?' Lasser asked.
Jepson glanced at Lasser, the smile back on his tanned face. 'Oh, it has to be the best part of three years since I paid Dyer a visit, the truth is that family have been working the land for generations and they know their stuff, alas some of my other tenants can be a little less professional.'
'How long have your family lived here?' Bannister asked as they reached the corner of the house and turned right, the side of the property seemed to stretch out into the distance, the sun bright in their eyes.
'Give or take the odd century it's been almost nine hundred years,' Jepson replied easily.
'Nine hundred years?' Bannister said in astonishment.
'Ridiculous I know, but it's the truth, of course the house has been added to over the centuries though some parts of the structure dates back that far.'
Suddenly, they came to a door on the right and Jepson opened it before moving inside, the kitchen was huge and everything gleamed, the AGA range seemed to take up one wall, there were three Belfast sinks, two huge tables and a breakfast island in the centre of the room.
'Now, what's it to be, coffee or juice?' Jepson asked.
'Something cold would be good,' Bannister replied.
Jepson nodded before glancing at Lasser.
'What about you, Sergeant?'
'Don't suppose you have any dandelion and burdock?'
Jepson threw his head back and laughed, the sound blasting out around the cavernous room. 'I think we might just have some,' he said before heading over to one of the two fridges and opening the door.
Driven by Fear (The DS Lasser Book 27) Page 16