Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  'So, what did you find out at the gym?' Lasser asked as they trailed Bannister's Audi.

  'The owner acted dumb,' she replied.

  'John Thorpe?'

  'Mm, he knew both Clark and Bartle, but had no idea if they knew one another personally.'

  'That's probably bollocks,' Lasser said as they headed towards Hindley. The afternoon traffic started to build, and he eased back in the seat glad to not be driving for a change.

  'He's contacting some guy who's worked at the gym for years, according to Thorpe he knows everyone who goes there.'

  'What about the doc, what did he have to say about Bartle?'

  Odette kept her eyes on the road as she told him about the same concoction of steroids that both dead men had in their system.

  'So, the same person supplied the drugs?'

  'Not necessarily, Doc Shannon said they could have got them online from any number of retailers.'

  'I'll ask Rog to go over their website accounts, he might be able to find out if they used the same supplier.'

  Pulling up to the lights, she heard him draw in a sharp breath, she glanced sideways and could see Lasser's face pinched with pain, his right hand rubbing his shoulder.

  'You OK?' she asked.

  'I'm fine.'

  Reaching across the seats, she popped the top two buttons on his shirt and eased the material away, her eyes widening at the huge black bruise beneath.

  'Jesus, have you been to the hospital over that?'

  'It's a bruise not a stab wound.'

  'But you're black and blue, you…'

  'I'm OK,' he said, his face going red as he fastened one of the buttons.

  'I still think you're…'

  'The lights have changed,' Lasser interrupted.

  Facing forward, she went through the gears, her face etched with concern. 'I'll ask Shannon to take a look later and…'

  'No, you won't.'

  His voice had a harsh edge to it and she knew he'd do nothing about it.

  'You're not indestructible, Lasser.'

  'I never said I was, but I'll have a long soak in the bath later and chuck some Radox in, it'll be fine in no time.'

  'Well, if it's still the same in a few days then I'll drag you there.'

  Lasser almost reminded her that in ''a few days'' it would be the weekend and she would no longer be in town to take him anywhere, she would be in the Lakes with her new boyfriend. The thought tormented him, and he thrust the notion away before it had time to sink its claws in.

  'OK, deal,' he said before looking out of the side window.

  The trees at the side of the road, almost naked now, were being tossed by the wind, the last few leaves being torn free, chaotically twisting and whirling their way to the wet ground while, above, the sky bristled with ominously dark, forbidding clouds scudding across to the distant horizon.

  'I wonder if Martin Fellows is telling the truth about Viner?' Lasser pondered.

  'Well, like you said, he has no record.'

  'Which means Viner's either smart or lucky.'

  'Or innocent,' Odette commented as they drove through Hindley.

  Lasser grunted in agreement but said nothing, watching the tail lights on Bannister's car flash when he slowed down for the small roundabout at the top of Market Street.

  'The question is, if Fellows is telling the truth then how did Viner know the brothers in the first place?' Odette asked.

  Lasser pulled out his cigarettes and lit one before sliding the window down four inches. 'Well if Viner knew Callum Green then perhaps that's where he came into contact with the Fellows brothers.'

  'Green was before my time, wasn't he?' Odette asked.

  'Yeah, that was the first time I ever came into contact with Plymouth.'

  Odette felt the chill run over her skin as she thought of Plymouth pointing the gun at her face.

  'You think Viner might have known Green?'

  'Well, it's a possibility, or it could be that Viner knew the Fellows brothers from the sex that went on in the woods. But according to Alan Cummins, they…'

  'Alan Cummins?'

  Lasser turned in his seat until he was facing her, then he started to explain about his late-night conversation with the young man and how he seemed to be drawn into a world of dark, sexual fantasies, one in which he always played the victim.

  By the time he had finished, Odette's face had grown pale at the images that sprang up in her mind.

  'But Cummins was adamant that it was a male-dominated pastime. I suppose when you hear the word ''dogging'' you imagine it to be male and female, but he says he'd never seen a woman take part.'

  'That means nothing, after all no one thinks that Minnie Bellows went there of her own free will. As soon as she got into that car then any choices she had were gone,' Odette said.

  Lasser sighed as he realised she was right.

  Bannister started to pull ahead, the big car weaving along the narrow road, so Odette eased down on the gas a little in an effort to bridge the gap.

  'Have the brothers actually said that Viner had been to the woods with them?' she asked.

  'Christ no, like Bannister said as soon as the name was blurted out Martin Fellows clammed up and his brother refused to say a bloody word.'

  Odette flexed her hands on the steering wheel, her face thoughtful. 'So, in theory Archer being killed could have nothing to do with Viner or Minnie Burrows's death?'

  'I thought I was the one who usually spouted the worst-case scenario?' he said with a bitter smile.

  'All I'm saying is that there could be another reason Viner wanted Archer out of the way.'

  Lasser nodded. 'I know but let's just wait and see what the man has to say, you never know he might be sat at home right now eager to confess.'

  Odette threw him a look and saw the hardness in his eyes. 'And pigs might fly,' she replied.

  'Yeah, well, at least we have a name to go on and, no matter what happens, the Fellows brothers will go down for the murder of Archer. I hate that I couldn't stop the bastards throwing him from the window.

  'That wasn't your fault and you know it.'

  'I…'

  'You can't be responsible for everything, Sergeant, life is full of bad people who don't give a toss about others and in the job we do we come into contact with them all the time. You go further and try harder than anyone I've ever known but there will always be situations that you can't control, and you just have to let them play out for better or worse.'

  Silence suddenly filled the car as he thought of her words, reading the hidden message held within. He knew that she was trying to get him to see that he had to take a step back and let her get on with her life, even if he didn't agree with what she was doing.

  He thought of all the times he had wanted to hold her and kiss her, wanted to tell her how he truly felt, and for a while he had been convinced she had felt the same. Both circling the situation, both scared of what would happen if they voiced their feelings. Yet now, the realisation hit that she hadn't felt the same emotions, he had conned himself into seeing something in her eyes that had never been there. The truth was he had mistaken compassion for hidden love, the look in her eyes had been a fear of losing him, not of love, real love.

  For the briefest of moments, he felt like opening the car door and hurling himself out onto the road, he felt like a fool for nurturing the feelings inside.

  Odette had a heart of gold and a caring nature, and he had warped her character traits until he had become convinced that she loved him back but like him she was afraid to say it.

  At the top of Hall Lane Bannister took a left and Odette followed, her hands now gripping the wheel tight.

  'I made a deal with Bannister that once this is all over I'm going to take the leave owed me,' he said in an effort to break the silence.

  'At last,' Odette replied with a nervous smile. 'So, where will you go?'

  Lasser dropped the cigarette through the window. 'Not sure yet but I've always fancied the
Highlands.'

  'You'd suit a kilt.'

  Lasser could hear the hint of desperation in her voice as she tried to lighten the tense atmosphere.

  'You're saying I'd look good in a skirt?'

  'Well, now you mention it, yes, but you can't be wearing high heels, you're tall enough as it is.'

  Lasser smiled as she gave chase on Bannister who seemed to be going faster by the second as if desperate to reach their destination.

  'Well, I think you'll love it up there,' she replied.

  The silence fell again as Lasser shifted in his seat. 'I've never had haggis,' he cringed as the words fell from his mouth.

  'It's nice, you'll like it,' Odette said hurriedly.

  'You've tried it then?'

  'Mm. When I was in my late teens I went backpacking up there with a couple of girlfriends for a few weeks.'

  Lasser looked sideways at her in surprise. 'I never knew that.'

  'Well, we intended doing Europe, but we liked Scotland so much we stayed there. We got jobs in a hotel in the Highlands and did some skiing and walked the mountains. Like I said, you'll love it, the people are friendly, and the scenery is wonderful.'

  'A bit like Wigan then?' he asked, straight-faced.

  Odette raised an eyebrow. 'I think the two places are twinned.'

  This time when Lasser smiled it was a natural reaction to her words and he felt a kind of calm descend as they blasted along the windswept road.

  Up ahead, Bannister took a left, then the twisting road forced him to slow down a little. After a couple of miles, he swung right, down a narrow side road lined with towering trees, the wind dying down as they acted like a blockade against the elements. The road was covered with fallen leaves, an autumnal carpet of reds and golden brown.

  When Bannister's tail lights lit up Odette slowed down, he turned right onto a narrow drive, the wrought iron gates standing open.

  Odette followed and Lasser's eyes widened as the house came into view. He had lived in this town all his life and yet he had never known that the imposing property had existed. He thought back to some of the criminals he had known, the Callum Green type who had started out in life with nothing and then made their cash through drugs and violence.

  The one thing they had all shared was the ugly, newly-built houses, with their mock-Tudor timber and double-glazed mullioned windows, the hot tub in the garden and the status-symbol car parked proudly at the front. Having money still hadn't given them a sense of style; bigger and flashier was always better in their tinpot world.

  This house was different, it nestled amongst a horseshoe of ancient trees, the garden undulating and crammed with mature bushes. The property, itself looking as if it had grown out of the ground, smothered with ivy, the roof covered with thatch that looked almost black with age.

  'Did you know this place was here?' Odette asked as the house grew closer.

  'Like walking through the back of the wardrobe,' Lasser replied absently.

  Odette knew what he meant, the place looked as if it had been transported here from some bygone time, she could see the dip in the line of the thatched roof, to the right stood a huge greenhouse made of wrought iron, every pane of glass in place and untouched by age or the elements. She could see the seed table littered with plant pots but not of the plastic variety, these were the proper terracotta sort.

  By the time they pulled up, Bannister was out of his car standing with his hands on his hips as he stared at the house.

  Lasser winced and struggled to unfasten the seatbelt and push the door open, trying to be quick; Odette leapt out, her feet crunching on the gravel as she walked over towards the DCI.

  'Bastard,' Lasser hissed as his body throbbed with the effort and he stood for a moment by the side of the car, his hands on the roof as he took a deep breath.

  'Come on, Lasser, stop messing about,' Bannister barked, looking over his shoulder.

  Lasser closed his eyes for a second in an effort to halt the flash of fury that zapped through his mind. When he opened them, Bannister and Odette were looking at him, the DCI had the usual scowl on his face, Odette looked concerned, her eyes held a strange note of pleading.

  Before he could reply, he caught a flicker of movement at one of the upstairs windows, then saw the shape of a man lifting a shotgun to his shoulder.

  'Down!' Lasser screamed and bolted towards them.

  Bannister's eyes widened and then Odette thrust him to the left, her legs pushing on the gravel, he felt himself hurtle to the side as the upstairs window exploded in a shower of glass and splintered wooden slats.

  The lead shot peppered the spot where Bannister and Odette had been standing half a second earlier, sending up a spray of gravel.

  Lasser saw the man crack the barrel and slide another shell into place as Odette and Bannister scrambled to the left.

  Lasser ran, dipping down and grabbing a rough chunk of stone from the rockery that swept out from the front of the house to the manicured lawn.

  Flicking his eyes back to the window, he saw the man close the barrel and lean forward out of the window in order to draw a bead on Bannister and Odette who were trying to get away.

  Lasser felt his blood turn to ice in an instant, realising they were not going to make it, he angled his arm upwards and, without breaking stride, hurled the jagged stone into the air.

  Things seemed to move in slow motion, he could see the man's face smeared with hatred, his eyes manic as he closed one eye to take aim.

  The chunk of rock cleared the stock of the gun by half an inch before smashing into the side of his face.

  Lasser felt the animal within bellow in satisfaction when he heard the man scream, his head slammed to the right and the gun reared and exploded into the windswept air.

  Lasser glanced left, seeing Bannister and Odette dash around the side of the house, he cut right instead, heading for the front door.

  He hit it full on, his shoulder roared with agony, but the door crashed inwards.

  The stairs lay straight ahead, the floor carpeted with a garish pattern, he dashed to the top and spun left down the narrow passage then left again.

  He could see the man, blood running down the side of his face, trying desperately to fumble the shell into the shotgun.

  Sprinting forwards, Lasser let the beast have full reign as he careered into the room.

  He saw the man snap the barrel closed, his hands raising the weapon, his finger curling on the trigger, then Lasser slammed into him, driving him back towards the shattered window.

  Blood sprayed from the wound in his face, but the gunman still managed to glare at Lasser with boiling hatred in his eyes, then his legs hit the low sill and he started to fall backwards, the gun dropped from his hands when he made a grab for Lasser's jacket.

  Lasser felt hands snatch at him as the man started to tip further back until his body was arched out of the window.

  'Viner?' Lasser asked, grabbing the man's wrists in a vice-like grip.

  'Get fucked…'

  'Viner?' he repeated in a hiss.

  The man licked his fleshy lips, his hands still locked onto the front of Lasser's jacket.

  'Lasser, are you OK?' Odette shouted from below, her voice edged with visceral fear.

  'You were involved in Minnie Burrows's death, weren't you?' Lasser snarled, forcing him further back into the void.

  'Piss off, I…' he managed to gasp.

  Lasser swiped the hands from his jacket in a savage downwards motion.

  'Shit!' Bannister bellowed from below.

  Lasser watched as the man tried to grab the window frame and then he was gone, screaming once before landing in a heap amongst the jagged rockery stones with a dull thud.

  Stepping forwards, Lasser looked down to find Bannister leaning over the prone man who was screaming out in agony and fear.

  Odette looked up at him, her face cracked with disbelief, her eyes staring up at Lasser as if she were studying a stranger.

  48

&n
bsp; Adam Stokes tried to keep the smile on his face as he listened to the man on the landing of the apartment block.

  'Oh, Medea doesn't live here anymore, she moved out over eighteen months ago.'

  Stokes felt the anger inside rise as he absorbed the news. 'Do you have any idea where she moved to?' he asked.

  The man pursed his lips and tilted his head. 'I'm sorry but who are you exactly?'

  For a moment the question threw him, he had imagined turning up at the flat to find Medea here, he had the ski mask in his pocket and he had pictured the scene, hearing the key in the lock and the handle turning. By the time she opened the door the mask would have been in place and he would have slapped her hard before forcing his way into her flat.

  Then, he would have made her pay – big time – for turning his life into a nightmare.

  But before he could even knock on the door, the man had appeared from the flat next door and started to question him.

  'Well, you see the thing is, I owe Medea some money, she helped to bail me out and I was just returning what I owed.'

  If he had expected the man to smile, Adam Stokes was in for a shock.

  'When did she lend you the money?' the neighbour asked.

  Stokes blinked in surprise. 'What do you mean?'

  'Well, if you're a friend of Medea's and she lent you money then how come you didn't know she'd moved?'

  'Oh right, it was a couple of years…'

  'Years!?'

  Stokes felt the heat build in his cheeks. 'Yes, years. I've been working abroad and only just got back, I kind of lost touch with Medea and Lasser and…'

  'Lasser?'

  Stokes nodded. 'Her boyfriend.'

  The look on the neighbour's face deepened with suspicion. 'Medea isn't with anyone called Lasser, are you sure you actually know her?'

  Stokes felt a sudden urge to slam his fist into the bastard's face. 'Well, when I left she was seeing Lasser, he was a police officer and…'

  'Well, I've never heard of him and she's with someone else now, in fact she's a mother.'

  'She's had a baby?' Stokes asked, trying to keep the surprise from his voice.

  'Must be, oh near on three month ago I think.'

  Stokes slipped his hands into his pockets, his face turning sour before he curled his lips into a sickly smile. 'Well, I'd really like to pay her back, I've tried ringing but not managed to get through.'