Charles Jepson stood between the two women, his chest rising and falling as if he had just done a cross-country run.
He looked from one to the other, the fury writhing inside and then he heard heavy footfalls in the gravel, and he turned to find Max approaching.
'Can you believe this; can you fucking believe it?' Jepson demanded the rage turning his face puce in colour.
'Who is she?' Max asked as he came to a halt and nodded at the woman sprawled in the gravel.
'A reporter, turning up here without an appointment, can you believe it?' he demanded again.
Max said nothing and made no move.
'I asked you a question?' Jepson's eyes narrowed as he waited for Max to answer.
'What are you going to do with them?' the big man eventually asked.
Jepson thrust his fists onto his hips, his cheeks inflating, then slowly the smile crept onto his face, and then he was rubbing his hands together.
'Waste not want not, I do believe we have our support act to the main event!' he said before throwing his head back, his maniacal laughter ringing out over the open ground.
Max said nothing, though inside he felt his own anger flicker to life.
96
Lasser pulled through the gates and headed down the drive, passing the golf course on the right.
'Look at that lot,' Bannister grumbled as a couple of golfers headed out for a round in their garish clothing and fancy gloves. 'I just don't get it, what's the bloody point of whacking a little ball into a hole?'
'You never know, once you retire you might decide to take it up,' Lasser suggested, slowing down as a squirrel flitted across the lane.
'You're full of shit today, Sergeant,' Bannister complained. 'There is no way I would ever even consider taking up golf, I would sooner go bog snorkelling first.'
Lasser glanced sideways at the DCI. 'OK, if you don't fancy golf what about entering a pie-eating contest?'
'You can piss right off, you are the glutton, not me.'
'I eat healthily,' Lasser replied, knowing full well that he was winding Bannister up with every word he uttered.
'That's only because of Jackie, left you your own devices you would eat nothing but fast food. I mean you are the only person I have ever known to have mashed potatoes and chips on the same plate.'
'I like to try and combine new and exciting foods,' Lasser quipped as the hall came into view.
Under normal circumstances the house would have appeared impressive, golden sandstone shining in the late afternoon light, yet after seeing Jepson's gaff suddenly Haigh Hall looked somehow diminished.
Lasser slowed again to allow a couple of dog walkers to move past the front of the Audi and then he drove to the Hall and parked up.
Glancing to the right, Lasser raised a hand as he spotted Giles standing at one of the many windows of the Hall.
'That man looks good in a suit,' Bannister said as he unclipped his seat belt.
'You got a man crush?'
'I'm telling you now if you carry on with your idiotic comments then I will not be responsible for my actions,' Bannister warned as they climbed from the car.
Half a minute later, Giles was striding towards them, his face lit with a smile.
'Gentlemen!' he bellowed before reaching out and pumping Lasser's right hand, then doing the same to Bannister.
'How are you?' Lasser asked.
'Never better,' he paused, looking thoughtful, 'though I suspect this isn't a social visit?'
'We're here to pick your brains,' Lasser admitted.
'Ah right, I take it Jackie told you about our conversation?'
'She did.'
This time, Giles Black sighed.
Bannister moved forward slightly. 'We realise this is difficult for you, but we really need to know more about the man.'
Tilting his head, Giles looked up at the sky, lips pursed. 'Look, I have no idea why you're interested in Charles, but if I can help then I will.'
'We'd appreciate that and…'
'Let's have a coffee,' Black interrupted before spinning on his shiny brogues and striding back towards the hall.
Bannister glanced at Lasser who raised an eyebrow as they followed him inside.
97
Brewster chewed his bottom lip, the anger twisting in his guts as he kept his eyes fixed on the narrow turning to the right.
He had followed Gemma 'the bitch' Fox again and she had led him here to the entrance of Lord Jepson's estate.
He was still traumatised by being locked into Bannister's car, the night before his dreams had been of the nightmare variety, a turmoil of Bannister and Lasser laughing and goading him. At one point he had found himself crawling along the towpath of the canal, the hated pair following as his hands and knees bled, occasionally one of them would kick his backside and he would yelp, tears of pain and bewildering shock streaming from his eyes.
He had woken in a frenzy, arms and legs thrashing as the duvet slid to the bedroom floor, gasping as he struggled from the bed and stood naked, hair lank with sweat, his paunch hanging down.
Now, he kept his gaze fixed on the drive, Bannister's words about Karmen echoing through his mind, according to the hated DCI his editor was out to finish him. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have believed a word Bannister said, after all he was corrupt, he lied, made things up, but this was different, this felt real.
He had never liked Karmen, never trusted the man, and when he had followed Fox as she turned off the main road he had known exactly where she was going. Karmen had sent her to have a word with Jepson, but why, why had he done that?
Brewster gritted his teeth, he was the one who had the connection with his lordship, not Gemma bitch-faced Fox, he had done the documentary on him a decade earlier and they had bonded. He chose to ignore the fact that since they had finished the filming, Jepson had never been in touch, they had never spoken, and yet now, as he sat behind the wheel of the MG, he managed to convince himself that they had been friends, not best friends, but more than an acquaintance.
He tried to think what Fox could want with Charles Jepson, could it have anything to do with the missing Rea Lomax, was that even possible?
His frustration deepened along with the certainty that he was deliberately being left out of the loop, there was a story here there had to be, he could smell it, and Karmen had chosen to use Fox to do the digging.
Karmen was out to finish him but that was not going to happen, he would make sure of it. His hands closed tight on the wheel until his knuckles whitened, his eyes still locked on the entrance to the Jepson estate, and the more time that ticked by the more the rage grew. He pictured Fox and Jepson sat together in the library doing an in-depth interview, perhaps something worthy of a front-page spread, something the nationals would be interested in.
'Bitch,' he snarled, as the minutes continued to tick by his fury reaching boiling point.
98
Giles sipped from the coffee cup, both Lasser and Bannister had refused his offer.
'Now, what would you like to know?' he asked, placing the cup on the table, and easing back in the leather seat.
Bannister started to talk, starting with the death of Julie Emmeret on the country lane.
'Terrible business,' Giles said with a sad shake of the head.
Then Lasser took over, explaining about Rea Lomax's disappearance and the links with Jepson, or rather land owned by the lord. He told Giles Black about Jepson being in Bangor on or around the time Julie was taken, and the more Black heard the more uncomfortable he appeared to be.
'Look, we could be grasping at straws here,' Bannister paused, 'but the only recurring link is Jepson, a girl is dead, one missing and then you have Draper and Nash, and honestly, we need a break.'
Giles cheeks inflated and then he spread his hands. 'It's like I told Jackie, Charles does a lot for charity and…'
'When you're a multimillionaire, giving money away looks impressive enough, but I bet it hardly dents the cof
fers,' Lasser paused, 'and don't forget a lot of what they give away is tax deductible, and nine times out of ten the 'charities' they choose simply support their own kind. When they give money to education it's rarely some bog-standard comprehensive that get the cash, it's usually somewhere like Oxford or Cambridge – as if they really need the bloody money,' Lasser finished with a scowl.
Giles looked at Lasser in surprise. 'Touché.'
'So, how long have you known the man?' Bannister asked as he folded his arms.
Giles thought for a few seconds before answering. 'It has to be twenty years since we first met, I was working for a PR company, and Charles has always been bright enough to know that profile counts.'
'Why would he need a PR company?' Lasser asked.
Giles eased even further back before placing his large hands on the arms of the chair. 'The more money you have, the more you need experts to ensure that your reputation remains intact.'
'Can you be more specific?' Bannister asked.
'Well, if I'm being honest, Charles could have sat back and done absolutely nothing in life, he has the money and the prestige, but he's always tried to drive forward with various business ventures.'
Lasser's scowl grew deeper and then he seemed to shake himself, pushing the unwanted thoughts from his mind.
'So, he didn't sit on his laurels?'
Giles looked at Bannister and smiled.
'That has never been his style and thanks to his stewardship, the family fortune has increased considerably.'
'But why, I mean, the guys not married, he has no kids that we know of so what will happen to the money when he pops his clogs?'
'To be honest I have no idea, it's never been something we have discussed.'
'What about other family members?' Lasser asked.
'He has one or two cousins but that's about it.'
'And does he get on with them?'
'I've never met them, and Charles has never spoken about them in detail, at least not to me.'
Bannister sighed in frustration, Lasser leaned forward slightly.
'Would you consider him your friend?'
Giles see-sawed a hand. 'We used to run together at one time, though the truth is he was always faster than me, I carry a little too much bulk to keep up. Once or twice we've run through the grounds here and even at the manor.'
'What about Wales?'
For a moment Giles appeared thrown by the question. 'Twice.'
'Can you remember when this was?'
'Last time must be over eight years ago now, but to be honest I gave up after about ten minutes, they were way too fast for me.'
'They?' Lasser asked.
'Yes, there was a young woman there and by the time I'd got my running shoes on those two were off.'
'What did she look like?' Bannister suddenly asked.
'No idea, like I said I didn't really fancy running up and down a mountain, so I kind of hung back.'
'Well, did Jepson know her?' the DCI questioned, his frustration mounting.
'He never said, even on the return journey he never mentioned her.'
'Didn't you find that strange?'
'Oh, Charles can be a strange fish at times, sometimes you cannot shut the man up and other times he hardly says a word. I was driving, and he was in the back, and I do remember he fell asleep and only woke up once we got back to the house.'
'Do you know if they ever met up again?'
Giles shrugged his heavy shoulders. 'No idea, though I do know what car she drove if that's any help?'
'Go on,' Lasser said.
'It was an old VW Beetle, bright red, with a black roof. I remember thinking it wasn't the type of off-road vehicle a lot of these people use, plus it was circa early sixties, quite rare to be honest.'
Pulling out his phone, Bannister tapped at the keys before rising and heading for the door.
'Could that be important?' Giles asked in surprise as the DCI left the room.
'You never know it could be,' Lasser said as he eased forward in the chair, his eyes locked on Giles Black. 'Off the record, what do you really think of Jepson?'
'I'm sorry, Lasser, but believe me if I had any suspicions about the man then I would tell you. Jackie explained that you had met the man, and, in my experience, you tend to come away thinking he's as straight as a die. Now, that may well be the case because if he has any secrets then I have not been privy to them.'
'What about rumours?' Lasser asked, feeling the desperation start to grow again.
'Believe it or not, part of my job entails not listening to gossip, that's part of the reason wealthy people trust me, and whenever I hear anyone talking about someone else then I simply move away.'
'Probably the wisest thing to do where the wealthy are concerned,' Lasser paused for a moment trying to think if there was anything else he needed to ask, 'do you know if Jepson has ever had a bouncer working for him?' he asked.
'A bouncer?' Giles asked and then raised an eyebrow. 'Forgive me, but I don't think Charles is on any international hit list, besides he's more than capable of taking care of himself.'
'Meaning?'
'Meaning he is a fit man, his endurance is second to none, I've seen him outrun men half his age.'
Before Lasser could comment, Bannister came back into the room, his face thoughtful.
'Are we done here?' the DCI asked.
Lasser glanced over his shoulder. 'Yeah, we're done,' he replied before rising to his feet. 'Thanks for the help, Giles, it's much appreciated.'
'More than happy to assist in any way I can.'
Half a minute later, they were back in the car.
'I've got Roger looking into the Beetle.'
'In case it belonged to Julie Emmeret?'
Bannister clicked the seatbelt into place. 'Jepson was running in Wales with some unknown woman and Julie lived and vanished from the area,' the DCI replied, though he didn't sound too hopeful.
'What do you want to do next?' Lasser asked as he took his time driving along the narrow lane.
'No idea, but I've told Roger to ring as soon as he knows anything, so take me back to the station for my car and then we may as well head home,' he replied, his face once more etched with frustration.
Lasser pulled away from the Hall, as they reached the exit and headed off along the country lane, he flicked on the sidelights as the light began to fade.
99
Nash groaned as the metal door swung open, his eyes were almost swollen shut, the skin badly bruised, his face smothered in cuts, the blood dry and crusty.
When the tall man entered the stone building, he felt the fear crank up, his hands shaking as he sat slumped against the wall, not even having the energy to rise to his feet let alone defend himself.
Jepson moved towards him and looked down at the slumped figure. 'Not so big are you now, Mr Nash?'
Nash said nothing, too scared in case he came out with the wrong thing that would lead to another beating.
'A hard lesson, but I wonder if you have really learned anything?'
'Please don't hit me again,' was all Nash could think to say, his voice full of pleading.
'You are not even worth bruising my knuckles for, though believe it or not I am prepared to offer you a chance to leave here in one piece.'
Clifton Nash latched onto the words and licked his lips, wincing at the sting. 'Anything, I'll do anything,' he mumbled.
Jepson tilted his head. 'You say that now, but I wonder if you are truly serious?'
'I'm serious, I promise.'
'We shall see.'
'Tell me what to do and I'll do it, all I ask is for one chance,' Nash begged.
'OK then, let's start with something simple, let's see if you can get to your feet?'
Nash slowly pushed himself upright, every muscle and bone in his body screamed out and he had to lean back against the cold stone, his legs shaking with the effort, sweat coursing down his face.
'To be honest, you don't look capable of anythin
g,' Jepson said with a tut and a sigh.
'I just need time that's all,' Nash gasped out the words as if they were his last.
'How does three or four hours sound?'
Nash blinked in confusion and then he nodded, somehow knowing that to ask for longer would lead to the tall lean man exploding, fists flying and this time he wouldn't stop until he had killed him.
'I can be ready,' he mumbled.
'Good man!' Jepson proclaimed with a flourish of his right hand as he turned and strode back through the door into the darkness, the metal door closing with a heavy clang.
Clifton Nash tried to stay on his feet but slowly his legs buckled, and he fell to his backside with a heavy thump like a man on death row waiting to die, he broke down and sobbed, his muscles quivering and useless.
100
Rea knelt on the dirt floor, her hands hovering over the woman who lay sprawled before her.
She had no idea what had happened other than Jepson had snatched her back with her hair, hitting her hard from behind as she ran towards the car.
The woman had to be the driver; it was the only thing that made any sense. She winced when she saw the bruising on her face along with the smear of blood on her chin and lips.
Lifting her head, she looked around the space, it appeared to be an old stable block and she knew that the heavy sliding door at the far side of the building would be locked. A line of weak bulbs hung from the wooden beams above, casting sickly light onto the dirt floor.
When the woman groaned, Rea looked back at her, holding her breath as her eyes flickered open.
'It's OK, you're safe now.'
Gemma looked up at her in confusion and then the next second her body was thrashing as she tried to leap to her feet.
Rea backed off, her hands raised shoulder high. 'I know, I know, please try and stay calm and…'
'Where is he?' Gemma gasped as she pushed a swathe of hair from her panicked eyes.
'I don't know but he will come back at some point, and we have to be ready when he does.'
Gemma shook her head as she pushed to her feet and staggered towards the sliding barn door. Rea paused for a moment before following, when she was ten feet from the door, the reporter fell to her knees, crying out in pain, and this time Rea placed a hand on her back.
Driven by Fear (The DS Lasser Book 27) Page 31