With a shake of her head, she left without uttering a word, her face glowing red with a mixture of embarrassment and burgeoning frustration.
Shannon grinned and took another bite of the apple.
43
Martin Fellows narrowed his eyes as Lasser and Bannister walked into the room, by the time they sat down, Fellows had folded his arms.
'Are you two pricks going to let me out?' he snarled, his face smeared with hatred.
Lasser leaned back and stretched out his long legs under the table, Bannister sat upright and placed his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly.
'We want a word with you about what went on in the woods.'
Fellows's eyes narrowed further until they were mere slits. 'Don't know what you're waffling on about, but I want to see my solicitor.'
'We've asked your brother all about your sex parties in the woods, and he's been more than helpful,' Lasser said, keeping his face neutral.
Fellows looked towards him before turning his head sideways and spitting onto the tiled floor.
'Like I said, I don't have a fucking clue what you are talking about.'
'We have a witness who told us what you and your weirdo brother like to get up to.'
This time Martin Fellows bunched his fists and Lasser raised an eyebrow.
'Remember what happened the last time you tried your luck with me, you ended up with a busted lip, but if you want another go, then go ahead and see what happens this time?'
'Fucker!' Fellows roared.
Bannister smiled and raised a hand. 'You think you're a hard man, don't you, you and your perverted brother? Beating up scrawny kids for Callum Green when they couldn't pay for the drugs, but we all know you're nothing but a soft shite, with your ski mask and baseball bat. I mean, how will it look when people find out you couldn't take care of one copper, three against one and you fucked it up?'
Fellows gripped the corners of the table, his face starting to glow with heat. 'No fucking comment.'
Lasser sniffed loudly as if he had detected the scent of fear and bullshit.
'You might think you can get away with killing Archer but I'm sure the people you work for will think twice when they find out you like shagging other men in the woods.'
'Liar!'
Lasser snorted a laugh. 'We have a witness willing to testify that you and your brother took part in all this. In fact, we have experts looking at the evidence left in the woods, a mattress full of stains, dozens of rubbers that will supply DNA samples and then we'll have no problem making the links.'
Fellows flicked a glance from one to the other, his eyes suddenly held a look of panic.
'Of course, your brother has already admitted his involvement but if you want to deny it then that's up to you, but…'
'Our Ant would never admit anything to the likes of you!'
The smile stayed on the DCI's face. 'You keep telling yourself that, the truth is we don't even need you to come clean, your brother is doing a fine job of stitching you up as it is.'
'Bollocks!'
'According to him, you liked to chase individuals through the woods and when you caught them things got nasty very quickly. Your brother mentioned the blue twine hanging from the tree and tying one man up while you whipped his back to shreds with a branch and…'
'I never fucked any queer bastard, I…'
Bannister barked out another laugh and shook his head. 'I love it when people like you dig themselves a hole so fucking big that they can never find a way out. And all the while you are doing that, your ''Ant'' is throwing earth on top of you, burying you alive. Come on, Sergeant, we're done here.'
The two of them rose to their feet and walked towards the door, Lasser had just grabbed the handle when Fellows leapt his feet. Shaun Rourke who, up until now, had been standing quietly in the corner, leapt forward ready to grab Fellows.
'It was Ant not me who whipped the queer's back.'
Bannister turned slowly. 'That's exactly what your brother said about you. He said you used to go on your own, ''addicted to it'' is what he said…'
'Lying twat!'
Lasser opened the door slightly as Bannister turned away from Fellows.
'You can't believe a word that bastard says, he's a lying prick, always has been!'
'Christ it's like listening to a distant echo,' Bannister said with a shake of the head.
'I'm telling you, he's the real poofter not me, I've had a shit load of girlfriends – he's never had fucking one!'
Bannister placed his hands on his hips. 'Let me get this straight, you're the alpha male, the one who has no problem getting a lady?'
Fellows wiped a hand across his tacky brow. 'That's right, I'm no shirtlifter.'
'Well, if that's the case then why did you go with your brother in the first place?'
Fellows looked around the room, his eyes now laced with outright fear. 'I… I just went for a laugh,' he eventually mumbled.
'''A laugh''?' Bannister asked with complete derision.
'Yeah.'
'I know you like to think that all coppers are idiots but not this time, sunshine, you are the thick one because you thought your brother would keep his trap closed. The fact is you were both there and despite the foul words you've used about homosexuality you are gay, you both are, but you try and hide behind the typical male bullshit, yet you both spent time in those woods doing God knows what, and now you are shitting yourself because the truth about you two is out.'
'I'm telling you, I…'
Suddenly, Bannister exploded across the room and Lasser closed the door quickly as Fellows lurched back and fell into the chair with a thump.
'The fact is you're both cowards, both afraid to admit your true nature, so you sneak around in the dark in the pissing wind and rain and act out your twisted fantasies. You're both pathetic bullies and you take that attitude and use it against those who can't help the way they are made.' Bannister loomed over the table and jabbed a finger into Fellows's blanched face. 'You killed Archer, your ''Ant'' already told us all about it, he's told us why you did it.'
'Never!' Fellows yelped.
'He told us you were both there the night Minnie Burrows was murdered!' Bannister bellowed, his face growing more flushed by the second.
Fellows started to shake his head rapidly from side to side. 'Liar.'
Bannister turned his finger until he was pointing to the door. 'We're going to have another word with that brother of yours and believe me we won't be coming out of there until he tells us how you killed her, but I bet my fucking life that he'll try and pin the blame on you – and you fucking know it.'
Bannister spun away and Lasser made to open the door again.
'We didn't fucking touch any woman, it was Viner who told us to get rid of Archer,' Fellows screamed as he leapt to his feet again.
Lasser glanced at Bannister, he could see the sudden flash of triumph in his eyes, and then the sadness swept in to take its place when he turned to face Fellows.
'Who the fuck is Viner?'
Martin Fellows looked like a cornered animal who was suddenly out of options.
'Look, I want to see my solicitor,' he tried to inject some venom into his voice, but it was too late, the fear was running rampant now through his stalling brain.
'Fair enough,' Bannister said easily. 'While you're talking to your solicitor, we'll be getting your brother's side of events.'
They waited for Fellows to crack and spill the beans, but this time he kept his mouth closed, his eyes full of something that looked suspiciously like terror.
44
John Thorpe ran a hand across his dark hair, a frown on his face as Odette told him about the death of Clem Bartle.
'Look, what the hell is going on here?' he asked.
They were sitting in his office; the air held a faint hint of spray-tan lotion and liniment.
'I take it you knew Bartle?' she asked.
'Yeah, yeah, I knew him, he was a regular here, he'd been comin
g for years.'
'The two dead men knew one another?'
Thorpe continued to run a hand over his head. 'I already told the other copper who came here yesterday that Clark kept to himself and trained alone.'
'But they would have been aware of one another?'
Thorpe shrugged his shoulders and Odette fixed him with a hard stare. 'You've already said that Bartle had been coming here for years and Clark wasn't new to the place and yet you're saying you don't know if they knew one another?'
Thorpe tried to hold her gaze but found that he couldn't manage it. 'I'm not here all the time I have another gym in Bolton and this place just ticks over.'
'OK then, I want to speak to someone who knows this place inside out.'
Before Thorpe could reply, Odette's phone beeped, she kept her eyes on the owner of the gym as she lifted it from her pocket and opened the text from Bannister, her eyes widening slightly as she read the message. Seconds later, she was on her feet.
'I'll want answers, so I suggest you find someone who can supply them – and make it quick because I don't want any more time wasted over this.'
'I'll ask old Harry Hoffer, he's been here since the year dot and knows every bugger who trains here.'
'Right, I want an address, you can ring me on this number,' she said, sliding a card onto the desk.
'No problem.'
Odette turned and vanished through the door, Thorpe watched her go then picked the card up, a worried look crossed his face as he studied the number before reaching for the phone.
45
Adam Stokes ran to the bench and sat down, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his legs throbbing and burning. Checking his watch, he spat into the grass then looked at the town centre spread out below him from his hillside vantage point. The place was a clotted mixture of terraced houses and high-rise flats interspersed with factories, churches and shops.
One of the only good things about not having a full-time job was the fact that it gave him the chance to get the training done. He should have been at the gym, but his subscription had expired two weeks earlier and he didn't have the cash to pay for another year's membership. He had tried to get his mother to hand over the three hundred quid, but she had put her foot down, pointing to the fact that he still owed her for the previous year's payment.
In desperation, he had started to run, though his bulky frame had made it difficult at first, he was at last starting to enjoy it a little, but it was still a pale imitation of going to the gym and lifting the weights, seeing others admire his muscles.
Wiping a hand across his brow, he scanned the distant town and scowled. It had always been his intention to leave this shitty place and make his mark in life, for a few years the plan had been going well and the money had rolled in. He had been a great salesman and working on commission had been fantastic as he charmed the customers with his wide smile and flashing teeth. Making them feel special until he got them to sign on the dotted line, then he would forget about them and move onto the next fool.
Then things had started to go wrong and the dream of moving away had vanished, the house had been repossessed and he had ended up back in his old bedroom like the sulking teenager he was fifteen years earlier.
Stokes cursed low under his breath at the unfairness of life.
Over the years, he had tried to pinpoint the time when things had started to go wrong, looking for someone to blame for the calamity that had befallen him.
The fact that it had all been his own fault never even entered his head, he had managed to expunge the affair with his boss's wife. After all, she had been the one doing the chasing not him, she had been the one making all the moves, he had just acted on impulse and fucked her in the office over the table. After that, they had met up regularly for hot sex and he had loved it. She had been ten years older than him and an absolute animal between the sheets.
However, it turned out she was doing it all to get back at her husband for an affair he'd had the year before.
Stokes had been in bed with her when her husband turned up, he had tried to escape but not before his boss had given him a good hiding in the bedroom.
For a long time, the memory of that day had made him cringe in shame. The door banging open as he had been taking her from behind. He had gasped as Patrick Jolly blasted into the room. By the time he withdrew from the boss's wife his member was shrinking to nothing, and then Jolly had thrown him from the bed. Stokes could remember scuttling into the corner of the room, his bare backside on view, his genitals flapping about as he dashed for his clothes.
The next five minutes had been the most humiliating of his life as Jolly slapped and punched him around the room before pulling him back to face the bed.
Sarah Jolly had been sitting up, her bare breasts on view, smoking a cigarette, with the faintest hint of a contemptuous smile on her lipstick-smudged mouth.
'That's my wife you've been shagging, so you can say goodbye to your job and your career because by the time I'm finished with you no fucker will give you the time of day let alone a job. Now, fuck off out of my house!'
As Stokes had turned away, Sarah had given him a small wave, the smile still flickering.
Jolly had kept his promise, and ever since that day Stokes had found it hard to get a meaningful job. Occasionally, he had landed one and perhaps for a few weeks things would look on the up, then he would be told his services were no longer required and he would be back to signing on Jobseekers for a few weeks until the next dead-end job came along.
Yet, despite the truth he had still managed to deflect the blame from himself, and now he sat glaring out at the town that he hated so much yet was unable to escape.
When an image of Medea Sullivan flashed through his mind, he snared it and snarled. Things had been going well until she dumped him, his life had been on the straight and narrow, a path – loaded with gold – heading right to his destination, a destination filled with hard cash and a life of luxury.
He had last seen her in the local Tesco, she had sneered at him and made him feel small, pointing out that she was now in a good relationship with a copper. A fucking copper!
Stokes felt the anger writhe inside, all this was her fault, it was almost as if when she dumped him she had cursed him at the same time, a curse that had led to his life slowly unravelling.
That was nearly three years ago and ever since then the curse had remained intact, he had no doubt that Medea and her bastard boyfriend, Lasser, had got on with their lives without any dark clouds on the horizon.
Suddenly, he pictured them both having a laugh at his expense, gloating as his life had stalled while theirs had moved on swimmingly.
He pictured them both in a nice house with two cars on the drive, the place would be crammed with expensive stuff while he lived in a twelve-foot by six-foot box room with yellowing teenage posters on the wall and cobwebs on the cigarette-stained ceiling.
The image tore through his mind in a whirlwind blast, all this was their fault, and by Christ it was time they paid the fucking piper.
Lurching to his feet, he swayed back and forth for a moment as gravity dragged blood into his legs and away from what few brain cells he had.
Back when Lasser had threatened him, he hadn't been lifting the weights, and the power in the copper's grip had been terrifying, but now things would be different, now Lasser and Medea would be the ones in terror as he made them pay for everything that was wrong in his life.
With a snarl, he turned away from the hated view and dashed up the hill, taking the shortcut that led back to the car.
He had plans to make and scores to settle and the thought at last gave a sense of purpose to his sorry life.
46
Carole Henson listened as Bannister filled her in on the details provided by Martin Fellows.
They were in her office, the DCI sat facing her with Lasser and Odette standing either side of him like bodyguards looking after a VIP.
'So, what do we know about Viner?'
she asked.
'Well, to be honest there's only one guy with that name in the directory and he has no record,' Bannister replied.
'But you suspect he's the one Fellows mentions?'
Bannister shrugged. 'As far as we can gather Viner has his fingers in several pies. The construction industry for one, he also owns two restaurants, one over in Parbold and one in Preston, and they're not your frozen chips and peas type of places.'
Lasser shuffled his feet slightly, and Carole looked at him. 'You know the town better than anyone, Sergeant, have you heard of Viner?' she asked.
'I know a couple of years ago some apartment blocks in Aspull went up and there was billboard on the site with the name Viner plastered across it, so I assume it's the same man, but apart from that I've never had dealings with the guy.'
'What else did the brothers have to say?' she asked.
'To be honest, once Martin Fellows had blurted out the name he clammed up as if he realised he'd said too much and started waffling on about wanting his solicitor,' Bannister explained.
'Do we have Viner's address?'
The DCI nodded. 'He lives out in the sticks, halfway between here and Chorley.'
'Right, bring him in and let's see what he has to say for himself,' Carole replied.
'Chances are he'll have some top solicitor to call on,' Odette warned.
Carole sighed in agreement. 'No doubt you're right but let's see what happens.'
Bannister stood up and the three of them headed from the room, leaving Carole looking thoughtfully out of the window across the open fields.
Half a minute later, she saw them come out of the station and go to separate cars, Bannister quickly getting into his vehicle. Even from her window, she could see the pensive look on Odette's face as she watched Lasser climb into the passenger seat of her Audi. Deep in thought, Carole watched them drive out of the station gates before turning back to face the growing mountain of paperwork.
47
Blood Bought Page 15
