Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  Closing her eyes again, she thought about the coming night, the weather would play a part and she would have to plan accordingly. She knew the area she had chosen offered plenty of scope for concealment, the place was full of tracks made by dog walkers and people on mountain bikes, there were small valleys in the woods ideal for hiding in should the need arise.

  She pictured the would-be victim all pumped up, she could imagine him glancing at his watch, wishing the hours away, the excitement mounting as he thought about the coming chase. Perhaps he was making excuses to a wife, saying he was working late and she shouldn't wait up.

  No doubt he would spend time looking in the mirror gearing himself up for the chase. His eyes brimming with confidence as he flexed his muscles, eager to show his masculinity to the mystery woman he was meeting.

  Opening her eyes, she swung her legs off the sofa and rose to her feet.

  Glancing at the clock on the wall she smiled, another few hours and the fun and games would start. Ending in the death of Clem Bartle.

  Lifting the tablet from the arm of the sofa, she saw the message from Bartle and clicked it open, her eyes moving swiftly across the screen. He was confirming that he would be in place at the set time.

  'I will chase you and catch you and then fuck you senseless. You think you can outrun me, but I know you have no chance, you will be mine and you can shout and scream but it won't help you. There will be no escape and you will pay the agreed price.'

  She read the message again, Clark had left a similar one, the same confidence, the same bullish belief that a mere woman would be unable to evade him, no matter what the terrain or how far they had to run.

  She pictured Clark, he had set off after her at a quick pace but after two hundred yards of dashing through the trees he had started to slow down, and she had eased her pace, her face etched with anger as she waited for him to come back into view. The whole experience had been pathetic, leaving her with a feeling of disappointment.

  She looked at the picture of Bartle and felt the same frustration build as if she already knew that he would offer no real threat.

  'There will be others,' she told herself in an effort to shake the feeling of dissatisfaction.

  Placing the tablet back down, she looked out of the window, the sky was uniform in its drabness, the rain still falling heavily.

  Checking her watch, she felt her stomach rumble.

  'Time to eat,' she said and walked into the kitchen.

  Five minutes later, she had the wok on the heat, slicing the peppers with lightning speed she started to hum to herself, her mind at ease as she prepared the meal.

  19

  Lasser sat in the car, he was parked facing the reservoir, the water choppy as the wind howled across the open miles of countryside.

  After calling at Thorpe's gym he had checked a few more of Archer's old haunts before heading out of town making his way up to Rivington. Now, he drew hard on the cigarette trying to quell the feeling of unease that grew inside. After leaving the hospital he had glanced at Odette, but she had got into Bannister's car without uttering a word, leaving him to head out to Atherton on his own.

  The gym had been empty apart from a man behind the reception desk, his arms huge, his neck thick and bullish with muscles.

  Twenty minutes later, he had left the building none the wiser as to the kind of man Edward Clark had been. The guy on reception had admitted to knowing Clark but only to say ''hi'' to.

  'How long had he been coming to the gym?' Lasser had asked.

  'A couple of years.'

  'And did he have a training partner?'

  The big man had shrugged. 'Not that I'm aware of.'

  'He trained alone?'

  'Look, I don't have a clue, I was normally on the desk when he came in so…'

  'You expect me to believe that he came here for two years and you never saw how he trained?'

  The man had frowned, placing his huge fists on the desk. 'This is a busy gym, people come and go all the time.'

  Lasser look across to the empty exercise room, 'Yeah, I can see how busy you are,' he said in a voice heavy with irony. 'Where's the owner?'

  'On holiday, he gets back tomorrow.'

  Lasser had slid a card onto the desk. 'As soon as Thorpe shows his face tell him to ring me.'

  The man looked at the card then back at Lasser.

  'I'll tell him – if I remember.'

  'If you forget, I'll come back here in a van and you and your boss will be thrown in the back and taken to the station and then you can explain to him why you are both on your way to the nick.'

  'Are you threatening me?' the man's face twisted into a snarl, his hands bunching into vein-infused fists.

  Suddenly, Lasser felt the fury flare, and before he had time to think his right hand had shot out and grabbed the man by the throat, his fingers closing tight as he pushed his face in close.

  'Listen to me, you fucking gorilla, you may think yourself a hard man because you can lift a few weights but if you fancy your chances then we can step outside right now, and I will knock the shit out of you.'

  The man behind the desk had instantly started to sweat as he peered into Lasser's black eyes and saw the fury shining out at him.

  'What's it to be?' Lasser had snarled.

  The man had raised his hands and Lasser had let go and stepped back before jabbing out a finger. 'Make sure you tell Thorpe to fucking ring me.'

  The man had nodded and swallowed, his face wincing in pain at his bruised neck.

  Now he sat in his car, while outside the wind howled and the rain poured down, Lasser tried to fathom why he had lost the plot.

  He pictured Odette climbing into Bannister's car, her eyes facing front as Lasser waited for her to give him a wave that hadn't materialised.

  In Shannon's office it had been the same, she had glanced at him and then looked quickly away, her eyes almost furtive as if she couldn't bring herself to look at him for any length of time.

  Before Odette had gone on holiday she had been her usual self, easy going and talkative, but since she'd returned there had been a change in her demeanour as if she wanted to tell Lasser something but couldn't quite bring herself to utter the words.

  She's met someone, the thought slithered into his mind as his gaze lost focus.

  The idea grew at an alarming rate, he slid the window down and tossed the cigarette through the gap, straight away lighting another one. He left the window down, feeling the rain hit the side of his face as the notion spread through his mind.

  Blowing out the smoke, he tried to rationalise the situation. The fact was that his feelings for Odette had grown and on a number of occasions he had almost voiced his emotions, but he had always held back, afraid of what her response would be. It would have been hard enough at the best of times, his relationship with, firstly, Medea and then Ruby had proved that he couldn't separate his work life from his love life. Yet the thought of telling her how he felt had been impossible, they worked together every day and she had even been staying at his house for months while her mother and brother lived in her apartment. Occasionally, during that time their eyes would meet and one of them would quickly look away, their faces tinged with colour.

  Lasser took another pull on the cigarette and tried to prepare himself for the coming news. He would have to steel himself and smile, wishing her well in her new relationship while inside he would be falling apart.

  When his phone rang, he fished it from his pocket and checked the screen, Odette's name flashed up at him and he almost dropped the phone back in his pocket. Rubbing at his eyes, he tapped the loudspeaker icon.

  'Lasser, where are you?'

  'Rivington.'

  'Did you go to the gym?'

  'Yeah, but no luck, the owner is away till tomorrow and he should be giving me a ring when he gets back.'

  The silence stretched out, Lasser closed his eyes and took another long drag on the cigarette.

  'What are you doing in Rivington?
' she eventually asked.

  'Just came out for a ride and a think.'

  'Are you OK?' she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

  'You've met someone on holiday, haven't you?'

  He heard the sharp gasp on the phone, the sound tightening around his heart.

  'I hope he's one of the good guys,' Lasser said light-heartedly, trying desperately to ease the tension.

  'His name's Craig and yes he's nice.'

  Lasser felt the shake in his hand as he took another desperate pull on the cigarette. 'What does he do?'

  'He works in the Lakes as an outward-bound instructor.'

  'Ah, nice one,' Lasser tried to think of something else to say but his mind froze, devoid of anything but pain and regret.

  'I'm heading back up there at the weekend,' Odette's voice came out in a rush as if the dam was at last starting to crack, letting all the emotion flood out.

  'Oh right.'

  'I'm at your place now, just collecting the last few things to take back to the flat.'

  Lasser felt the wind and the rain lashing at his face through the open window. 'No problem,' he managed to get the words past the lump of emotion in his throat.

  'I want to thank you for letting me stay these last few months.'

  'Hey, it's been no problem you know that.'

  'But I think it's best if I move out now.'

  'Yeah, yeah of course, it makes sense.'

  'OK, well, I'll see you in the morning.'

  'Grand,' Lasser tapped the screen.

  And swiped the tears from his eyes.

  Opening the door, he lurched out into the rain, slamming the door shut behind him and walking down the embankment to the water's edge, the cigarette clamped between his teeth.

  Within seconds, his hair was wet through, his jacket the same, the cigarette nothing but pulp when he spat it to the ground.

  The water lapped at the pebbled bank. The feeling of despair grew inside but then he shook his head rapidly.

  'Fucking idiot!' he roared into the howling wind, his voice dying in an instant.

  Swiping a hand across his head, he felt at a loss as to what he should do, part of his brain urged him to get in the car and go straight around to Odette's and tell her how he felt. He even managed to turn but then his shoulders slumped as he realised he would do nothing of the sort. He pictured himself on her doorstep spilling his guts and then a faceless man would appear at her back, just as Kevin had done when he was talking to Ruby, and he would see the shock in Odette's eyes, the door would slam in his face and he would be left desolate.

  The wind plucked at his jacket, the rain drenching his shirt. Ultimately, he had no choice, his chance to tell Odette how he felt had been there all along and yet he had never plucked up the courage to tell her. He had been afraid that she would turn away and once the words had fallen from his lips he would never be able to take them back and their relationship would have changed. The job demanded that you trusted each other in every way, completely, there was no space for complications, no room for feelings of love. So, he had kept his emotions buried deep inside, terrified to risk changing the relationship and now it was all too late.

  Odette was like him, they both worked hard, long hours with little sleep and the daily pressure mounting, yet the first time she had left the town she had met someone new.

  Lasser lowered his head, the water dripping from his brow.

  All he could do was batten down the hatches, though he knew that to watch Odette move into a new relationship would be soul destroying. He imagined seeing her and the mystery man hand in hand with love in their eyes. Eventually her new partner would come down to Wigan and no doubt Odette would introduce him to Lasser.

  Suddenly, a scenario blasted through his mind, Craig reaching out his hand and Lasser looking at it before slamming his fist into the man's face, breaking his nose and shattering his teeth.

  'Jesus,' he hissed into the downpour as he trudged heavily back to the car.

  Once inside, he lit another cigarette and started the engine, when he saw his reflection in the mirror he slapped it one side.

  'Useless bastard,' he said before driving away.

  20

  Odette pulled up in front of the apartment block, the sky swollen with grey clouds, the daylight fading rapidly, the first of the car park lights pinged to life, the light distorted behind the rain.

  Leaving the engine running, she turned off the wipers, watching the rain run down the windscreen.

  The conversation with Lasser played out in her mind, she had heard the pain in his voice, heard it reflected in her own as she told him about Craig and about getting her belongings from his house.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the feeling of sadness and then her mind slipped back to the bench in the small churchyard, Plymouth sitting easily by her side.

  'Are you working?' he had asked, the smile still curling his lips, his blue eyes sparkling like winter ice.

  'Holiday,' she'd replied, unable to shake the feeling of unreality.

  'You've been hiking?'

  'Why do you kill people for a living?' she'd asked.

  Plymouth had turned until he was looking at her, his face still relaxed, his eyes calm. 'My father always said that once you found something you were good at then you should pursue it and try to make money doing it.'

  Odette had looked at him, trying to fathom if he was being serious.

  'Will you ever stop?' she'd asked.

  Plymouth had shrugged. 'In my line of work retiring is not an easy thing to achieve.'

  'Why?'

  'Because I have a lot of people who want to kill me, when they try I'm forced to defend myself and invariably people die.'

  'Let me guess, they're family members of the people you have killed?'

  Plymouth had tilted his face skywards. 'All part of the job,' he admitted.

  'You disgust me!' she'd hissed.

  'No doubt I do.'

  'You kill innocent people, and…'

  'I regret some of the things I've done,' he interrupted as he turned to look at her again. 'This life is never easy and believe it or not when I take on a job I always look closely at the target and in most cases these people are making money from other's suffering.'

  Odette suddenly thought of the Finch and Banks families, both had been decimated by Plymouth, both families slaughtered. Each member had made money through violence and drugs, dishing out their own form of retribution to the weak and the addicted. Then Plymouth had exploded into their lives and one by one they had died. Another image came into her mind, a hitman named Clapton who had worked on the travelling fair, moving around the country and taking on contracts in whatever town he arrived in. Plymouth had forced the barrel of the gun into his mouth, shattering his front teeth before pulling the trigger and splattering his brains all over the trunk of a gnarled oak. Lastly, she thought of a killer named Plant standing in the kitchen of Lasser's house, the gun aimed at her head, his face smeared with hatred. But before he could pull the trigger, Plymouth had appeared at the kitchen window and suddenly it was Plant's head that had exploded in a gout of blood and brain matter.

  She tried to picture the innocent ones but all she could see were killers and men who paid to have people removed, all dying at Plymouth's hands.

  The truth was, both her and Lasser would now be dead if it wasn't for the killer with the shock of white hair. Reality slammed into her as she tensed by his side, her hands locked together in her lap.

  'If it makes you feel any easier then I can tell you that at the moment I'm not working,' he said.

  She had looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. 'Do you live around here?'

  Plymouth had smiled. 'Let's just say I like to visit now and again though I still travel around quite a bit.'

  'Killing people?'

  Plymouth had shrugged. 'Not if I can help it.'

  When he had stood up she had almost made a grab for his arm and then he had turned a
nd smiled.

  'Say ''hello'' to Lasser for me, tell him I'll see him again no doubt.'

  Before she could think of a reply he started to walk away.

  Odette had watched him, her body rooted to the bench, at the gate he had turned and smiled before vanishing into the stream of people walking along the narrow passage. She had stayed seated, trying to come to terms with what had happened, trying to rationalise her reasons for not pursuing the killer.

  Now, she sat behind the wheel of the car as the rain blasted against the windscreen and the last of the washed-out light vanished.

  With a heavy sigh she opened the door and climbed out, the wind tossing her hair as she went to the boot for her suitcase before setting the alarm and heading across the car park. As she reached the door it opened, and a woman stepped out dressed in a lightweight, waterproof jacket and combat pants.

  'Horrible night,' she said as she held the door open for Odette.

  'We'll end up with webbed feet at this rate,' Odette quipped.

  The woman's smile widened. Then she was gone, running out into the downpour as Odette let the door close and headed for the lift.

  Five minutes later, she dropped the suitcase by the side of the bed before heading back into the living area. It felt strange to be back in her own space without having her mother and brother living there. She imagined Lasser going back home to find the last of her things gone, she could see him now staring into the empty wardrobe, his face carved with sadness.

  Shrugging out of her jacket, she hung it on the hook behind the door before sitting down on the sofa, the rain peppering the darkening windows, reflecting her own image back at her.

  Easing back on the sofa, she closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind though she could do nothing about the images that swirled around inside her brain. She thought of Craig smiling at her, his eyes bright with warmth and tenderness, then Plymouth sitting easily on the bench, his head tilted towards the sky. And finally, Lasser, staring at her, black eyes laced with dismay.