Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  21

  Lasser pulled up outside the block of flats. After the conversation with Odette the last thing he felt like doing was going home, so he had driven aimlessly around the town centre trying to come to terms with the devastating news. When he spotted the tower block behind the heavy rain he had indicated and pulled through the gates.

  Peering up he could see the occasional light shining in some of the windows. Counting twenty levels up, his eyes moved right until they came to the fifth window. When he saw the light on, his eyes widened slightly, he had visited Archer's flat three days ago and the place had been in darkness. Climbing out into the rain he hurried over to the main door, pulled it open and thankfully stepped inside. He wiped the rain from his face and headed for the first flight of stairs, taking them two at a time, his booted feet leaving wet smudges behind.

  By the time he had climbed halfway up he was taking the steps individually, the heat building beneath his jacket.

  Reaching the landing, he paused for a moment, looking out of the window while he got his breath back, the view below showed one of the main roads into the town centre, traffic moving along, a mixture of red tail lights and white headlights trying to penetrate the foul weather. Turning, he took a deep breath and set off up the next flight of stairs. A few minutes later, he pulled the door open and checked he was on the right floor before heading along the deserted corridor.

  Some of the doors he passed looked battered, one had the imprint of a boot on the woodwork and three were boarded with hardwood panels where the reinforced glass used to sit.

  Reaching the door to Archer's flat, he eased down and lifted the letterbox, Randal Archer was standing over by the window looking out at the dismal view, his shoulders slumped, boxer shorts showing over the top of his low-slung jeans.

  'Randal, open the bloody door!' he shouted.

  The man himself seemed to leap into the air in fright before spinning around, his eyes springing wide in fear.

  Lasser watched him look around the room as if desperately searching for an escape.

  'This is the only way out, so you can either let me in or I kick the door down and…'

  Suddenly, the door at the end of the corridor slammed open. Lasser twisted round as three men burst through, all wore ski masks, the leading one held a baseball bat in his right hand. And all three came steaming down towards him.

  Lasser shot upright, the anger rising, his hands bunched into fists as the man with the bat raised it above his head and swung it towards his face. At the last second, Lasser lunged to the left and the bat whistled past his right shoulder, taking advantage of the man being off-balance, he powered forwards, slamming his fist into the attacker's face.

  The man cried out, then the two men at his side were on him, raining blows onto Lasser's back and shoulders.

  One of them lashed out, his boot cracking into Lasser's thigh as the man with the bat reeled backwards, his right hand held against the mask, blood seeping into the material.

  Throwing up an arm, Lasser blocked another blow, his eyes blazing with fury as the beast inside exploded into life and all emotion drained from his system, leaving behind the cold calculating part that absorbed the blows without flinching. Reaching out, he grabbed one of the men by the scruff of his sweatshirt and yanked him forwards before driving his head into the man's nose.

  The guy yelled out in pain but before Lasser could follow it up the man with the bat lashed out again and smashed it into Lasser, he felt his right shoulder explode in pain and was driven back against the wall.

  'Fucking forget him, it's Archer we want!' the third man bellowed.

  Lasser tried to lunge forward again but the bat slammed into his chest, driving the air out of his lungs and forcing him to his knees, gasping, the two men moved in, raining blows upon him while the third one attacked the door.

  He heard screaming from inside the flat and then another kick, the door bounced inwards and the two attackers turned and ran into the grungy flat.

  Lasser tried to focus, he could hear Randal Archer screaming, the view into the flat warped as his vision swam in and out. Then the sound of shattering glass filled the air, Lasser felt a brief blast of cold air, heard Archer plead for his life. For the briefest of moments, his vision cleared, and he saw two of the men heave Archer through the broken window, the bloodcurdling scream unravelling and fading to nothing as he fell into the darkened void.

  Then the three men were dashing back through the flat and Lasser rose painfully to his feet as they burst into the corridor, two of them angled right, the third one approached Lasser, the bat still held in one hand, slapping it into the open palm of his other hand, his eyes shining with hatred as he crossed the landing.

  'Fucking leave it!' one of his partners yelled as they reached the door.

  The man ignored them, his right arm swept upwards then Lasser snarled, his teeth bared as he dived forwards using the wall at his back for momentum. Hitting him in the waist, he drove the man back into the wall and snapped his right knee up, slamming it between the attacker's legs. This time the scream was a guttural howl as the attacker crashed to the ground. Lasser looked left as the two men stood by the double door, their eyes wide with surprise, when they made to step back towards him he stooped and picked up the bat.

  They stopped as one, each looking uncertain as Lasser strode towards them. When they turned to run, he came to a halt, the pain in his chest and shoulder making him gasp, then he stood and watched the two men vanish down the flight of stairs.

  Turning, he walked back to the man who was curled on his side, his hands clasped between his legs, his eyes screwed shut against the pain.

  'Fucker,' Lasser barked and swung the bat with all the force he could muster, the wood slamming into the man's right kneecap.

  He allowed himself a tight smile as the scream of agony pealed along the deserted landing. Then he dragged the phone from his pocket and staggered into the flat, the thin curtain at the window billowed in, bringing the rain with it.

  Reaching the shattered glass, he leaned forward and looked down into the darkness, he could just make out the shattered body of Randal Archer amongst the communal bins twenty floors below.

  Moving back into the room, he glanced at the man sprawled near the door before tapping at the screen to call for help.

  22

  Clem Bartle drummed his fingers on the wheel, his eyes kept flicking from the clock on the dash to the darkness beyond the windscreen.

  'Come on, come on,' he hissed as he waited impatiently for the woman to show.

  When he saw a shadow appear through the trees he flicked on the headlights, grinning as she threw up a hand against the onslaught.

  Twisting her head away, Bartle felt the excitement build, his muscles seemed to vibrate, his huge hands closing on the wheel with bone-breaking force. Dipping the headlights, he watched as she lowered her arm and turned back to the car.

  Bartle licked his lips and studied her, her dark hair was held back in a tight ponytail, her eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the light. She was tall and slender, her face pale as if she had no interest in sunbeds or spray tans.

  Bartle frowned as he glanced at his own copper-coloured reflection in the mirror, the lines around his eyes a deeper shade of false tan, the muscles in his jaws bulging.

  With a scowl, he turned off the lights before sliding the key from the ignition and stepping out into the rain.

  The woman remained on the edge of the car park, the towering trees at her back, her hands hanging easily by her side.

  Beeping on the alarm he set off walking towards her, the adrenalin starting to flow as he realised that the chase was approaching. He stopped when he was six feet away and flexed his muscular arms in a show of raw power, the woman remained unmoving, her face hidden in shadow.

  'Where are you parked?' he asked, taking a further step forward.

  'You know the deal, I'm parked on the other side of the woods, one point two miles away. If you catch me bef
ore I reach the car then you get your money back and get to fuck me. If you don't then I keep the cash and I drive away.'

  Dipping a hand into the pocket of his waterproof jacket Bartle pulled out the huge Maglite and clicked it on; keeping the powerful beam aimed at the ground between them he dipped a hand back in, pulled out the cash and handed it over.

  'And you have a five-second start?' he asked.

  'No more, no less,' she replied.

  He tried to fathom the look in her eyes, but she simply stared at him with cool disdain.

  'Five seconds it is then – but I warn you – when I do catch up with you I'm going to fuck you long and hard.'

  Her face didn't alter apart from a slight twist of the mouth. 'Ready?'

  Clem Bartle tensed, getting ready to explode forward. 'Coming to get you, bitch,' he sneered.

  Slowly she raised her right hand and then the middle finger popped up. 'You're fat and useless and even if you catch me you'll never get it up.'

  Bartle felt the excitement turn to anger, as he lifted the torch the woman spun away and dashed into the trees.

  He managed to count to three and then the rage took over, he bellowed like a rutting stag before giving chase.

  23

  Lasser stared at Randal Archer's broken body and felt his stomach lurch. Swallowing hard, he turned to Bannister, whose face was grim as he looked up at the towering block of flats.

  'What a way to go,' the DCI said with a shake of the head.

  Blue lights spiralled out through the trees, the squad cars parked on the road that ran along the rear of the flats.

  PC Steve Black stood over near the alleyway that led to the front of the building, disdainfully keeping people away who were trying to get a look at the grisly scene.

  Lasser rubbed at his shoulder, his face etched with pain as Bannister stared down at the body. Randal Archer had landed head first on the lid of the huge metal bin, the impact had shattered his skull, greasy, grey gore had leaked out, his face was crumpled and bloody, one arm had been broken back at right angles, white bone shone through the mess of torn flesh, muscle and blood. Both his legs were twisted out of shape, the bin lid was dented and drenched in blood that continued to run down the sides before dripping to the rubbish-strewn tarmac.

  'What about the guy you collared?' he asked.

  'Shaun Rourke went with him in the ambulance.'

  Bannister glanced at Lasser and then grunted. 'How's the shoulder?'

  'Sore.'

  'I assume you took the ski mask off before the paramedics took him away.'

  Lasser nodded. 'Yeah, but I'd never seen the guy before, he looked to be in his mid-twenties, bad skin with short dark hair and a scar on his forehead.'

  'Did he say anything to you?'

  'No, he was pretty much out of it, broken nose, front teeth gone, and his kneecap shattered.'

  Bannister opened his mouth and Lasser raised a hand.

  'Before you say anything, he came at me, he'd already hit me twice with the bat and then they kicked the door down and threw Archer through the window. On the way out two of them ran for the stairs and the one with the bat came over to make me pay for the broken nose.

  'And you managed to get it off him?'

  'Yeah.'

  'So how did he end up with a shattered knee cap?'

  'I hit him with the bat.'

  'Why?'

  Lasser felt the aggravation growing as Bannister grilled him. 'For all I knew Archer could have landed on one of the balconies below. I needed to check, and I needed to put the call in, the last thing I wanted was him doing a runner or trying to get back at me.'

  'So, rather than stepping back to make the call you decided to cripple the man?'

  'I've told you what happened, he wanted to leave my brains all over the floor, so as far as I'm concerned he got off lightly.'

  'Bloody lightly!' Bannister hissed. 'Every time you get in a scuffle the other guy ends up drinking their meals through a sodding straw!'

  '''A scuffle''?' Lasser barked back. 'There were three of them trying to kick the shit out of me, it wasn't handbags at dawn!'

  The DCI jabbed out a finger and Lasser slapped the hand away.

  Bannister glowered, his eyes narrowing. 'Well, you tell me how we are going to question a man with a broken nose, no frigging teeth in his head and a busted knee?'

  'We find out who he is and take it from there,' Lasser fired back the reply.

  'And how do we do that, you bloody idiot!'

  Lasser felt his hands closing, his fury bubbling up to the surface, but he spun away almost colliding with Odette as she rounded the corner.

  'That's it, run away like a soft-arsed baby, you're good at that!' Bannister bellowed.

  For a fraction of a second Lasser and Odette's eyes met, and when he tried to step around her she moved to the right, blocking his path.

  'What's going on?' she asked.

  'Move,' Lasser spat.

  Odette's eyes widened slightly though she remained exactly where she was. 'Sergeant, you need to calm down and…'

  Reaching out, he grabbed her and pulled her to one side before storming around the corner of the building, leaving Odette rubbing at her arms where he had gripped her.

  'Are you OK?' Bannister asked as he moved to her side, his face flushed with anger.

  'I'm fine.'

  'Right, first thing in the morning I'm going to suspend that bastard.'

  'But…'

  'But nothing, Odette, he's lost the bloody plot and he needs a break.'

  Odette tried to find a response, but she was still shaken from the look in Lasser's eyes as he thrust her to one side.

  'This has been building for a long time and he needs to step back from the job otherwise he's going to kill some poor sod… or they're going to do the same to him.'

  'But why was he so angry?' she asked, looking closely at Bannister.

  The DCI held up his hands. 'I know what you're thinking, and I get that he was angry after the three guys jumped him.'

  '''Three''!?' Odette felt the shock run through her mind.

  'They laid into him before throwing our friend here out of the window, then one of them went to finish Lasser off with the baseball bat; he managed to get it off him but then he used it to break the bugger's right knee.'

  Odette pushed the hair back from her eyes. 'Does Lasser need to go to the hospital?'

  Bannister looked at her in confusion. 'You saw the man, there was bugger all wrong with him.'

  'But you said they were laying into him.'

  'Well, yes, but he was still walking, still furious.'

  Odette turned away and quickly went around the corner of the flats, pushing her way through the people who were loitering in the shadows. Breaking free she ran to the front of the building, but the spot where Lasser had parked his Audi was empty.

  Her face etched with concern, she pulled out her phone and brought his number onto the screen. After thirty seconds the phone in her hand beeped and died and Odette closed her eyes in despair as she felt the guilt weighing down on her.

  24

  The woman could hear Bartle careering through the trees as she sprinted over the rough terrain, her breathing even and regular, her eyes narrowed against the incessant rain. His torchlight surrounding her, lighting the path in front and sending shadows looming left and right.

  'Bastard!' she heard the man bellow, followed by a heavy grunt.

  For a couple of seconds, the light vanished, she slowed down and glanced over her shoulder, her face carved with disappointment as she saw Bartle sprawled on the ground.

  'Fucking twat,' he snarled, slowly rising to his feet and pointing the torch towards her.

  'Useless prick!' she shouted back, thrusting her hands onto her hips. 'No brains, no stamina!'

  Bartle felt the fury flood through his body as she sneered at him, her torch-lit face registered nothing but contempt.

  'You'll pay for that, you fucking whore!' he screamed, ba
rrelling towards her.

  She waited until he was ten feet away before spinning and sprinting through the trees.

  'Bitch!' Bartle roared.

  The woman almost laughed aloud at the insults, her feet weaving left and right as she manoeuvred around the trees.

  She had spent weeks going through the woods and by now she knew every path and where it led to.

  The sound of Bartle chasing her increased, his heavy feet thudding through the undergrowth. She reached the cross-section of paths just as he stretched out a huge hand, she felt his fingers brush against her shoulder and she grinned before cutting sharply right.

  'Shit! Bartle gasped, his boots slipping in the thick foliage. He almost fell again but managed to stay on his feet, his face slick with sweat, his eyes full of fury and determination.

  The torch lanced out, finding the woman again. 'Fat man!' she yelled in glee.

  Bartle felt any grip on reality slip as he yanked the bottle of poppers from his pocket and took a humongous sniff, his eye springing wide as the drug flooded his senses. The darkness around him seemed to solidify, the torch pinning her to the spot, he could hear the rain suddenly sounding like a waterfall, the air redolent with the scent of dark, wet earth.

  He started to run again, the drug providing the illusion that he was now moving faster, his stride longer, his energy levels off the scale.

  The woman watched him stagger her way, the beam of light careering in all directions, his coordination failing.

  'I'm coming, bitch!' he screeched as he lumbered towards her.

  She waited patiently until he stretched out his arms and then she dipped low and sped left along the path. The disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders as she jogged along the trail, knowing that Bartle offered no challenge.

  When she saw the fallen tree, she slowed down.

  'Kill you!'

  She knew he was close, yet she waited and then at the last second, she ran lightly to the right alongside the tree.

  'Got you now!' he screamed.

  Placing a hand on the trunk she leapt over to the other side and glanced back as the man scrabbled over the blockade.