Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  67

  Carole Henson listened as Bannister explained about Frank Viner having a solid alibi for the night Minnie Burrows had been killed.

  The Chief looked tired as she sat behind her desk, dark smudges beneath her eyes. 'Yet he knows the man we found at the house?'

  Odette nodded and told her about Black once working for Viner but being sacked after he was found pilfering from the stores.

  'Perhaps this Black character wanted to get his own back, he decided to rob the house of his ex-boss. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened.'

  Bannister folded his arms and stretched out his legs. 'I get that but how did Black know the combination to the safe and…'

  'Viner has already stated that he could have left the safe unlocked, if that's the case then it would have been easy for Black to get the keys and…'

  'Yes, but he didn't take any of the cash from the safe,' Bannister interrupted.

  Carole raised an eyebrow. 'He could have been getting ready to when you arrived, he looks out of the bedroom window and panics and we know the rest. He ends up falling from the window but if you hadn't turned up he could have taken the cash from the safe and anything else he could have carried.'

  Bannister sighed heavily, Carole was right, he was grasping at straws, desperate to make links that weren't there.

  'Have you any idea what's happening with Lasser?' Odette suddenly asked.

  Bannister sat up straight and cleared his throat as Carole glanced towards the window.

  'The truth is until Black is able to talk to us then things are on hold.'

  'But Lasser did nothing wrong,' Odette said with a hint of desperation in her voice.

  Carole turned back to her, a sad smile on her face. 'That's not entirely true, Odette, you know that running into the house was reckless to say the least, and…'

  'If he hadn't then Black would have reloaded and he could have come looking for us,' Bannister broke in. 'The house is in the middle of nowhere and chances are we wouldn't have got out of there in one piece.'

  Carole looked from one to the other, she could see the determination on their faces and she sighed and nodded.

  'Agreed, and to be honest I haven't taken this forward and neither do I expect to.'

  Odette looked at her in confusion. 'I don't follow?'

  Carole smiled as Bannister blew out a gust of relief.

  'The truth is I've been trying to get Lasser to take a break for months, but you know what he's like, he somehow always manages to wriggle out of things. This is normally due to the workload – we all know he's a first-rate detective – but I blame myself for not being more insistent in getting him to step back for a couple of weeks.'

  'So, this is a forced leave of absence?' Odette asked.

  'If you like, yes.'

  The look of confusion on Odette's face morphed into one of disbelief. 'But you know what he's like? He'll be tearing himself up over this, he'll be thinking he could end up kicked out, so the last thing he'll do is relax.'

  Bannister straightened his tie before looking at Odette.

  'Like Carole said, he was out of order, Odette, and he needs to calm down before he ends up getting himself killed. You've been there when I've tried to get him to see sense, he never bloody listens, in fact, he tends to do the complete opposite.'

  Odette tried to think of a contradiction, but she knew that Bannister was right. The images started to plough into her mind, all the times that Lasser had been hurt – she had no doubt that he could have avoided being attacked – and yet the thought had never entered his mind, he had simply gone on the attack to help save those he cared for.

  'Eventually, his luck will run out,' Carole said in hushed tones.

  Odette cleared her throat and nodded. 'I know.'

  'We know it's not perfect – and believe me it won't be long term – but Lasser has been treading a very thin line lately, it's almost as if he doesn't care about his welfare, and it would be negligent of me to just sit back and let that continue.'

  Odette chewed the inside of her cheek, she knew why Carole had taken the decision, but she couldn't shift the feeling that it could somehow make matters worse.

  'Right, for now we'll have to forget about Viner, he has an alibi for the murder of Burrows, but what about the two dead men?'

  Odette tried to clear her mind of confusion and think about Clark and Bartle. 'I'm meeting with someone who works at the same gym they attended, according to the owner he knows everyone who goes there.'

  'And what about the attack on Medea Sullivan?' she asked, turning to the DCI.

  'To be honest, by the time Lasser arrived he was long gone, forensics are over there but I doubt whether they'll find anything concrete.'

  'Do you think it was a robbery?' Carole asked.

  Bannister thought for a moment before answering. 'Whoever the attacker was he made no effort to get into the property quietly, he hurled a stone through the window while she was in the kitchen.'

  Carole looked pained at the implications, then she checked her watch. 'OK, do what you have to but make sure you clock off at a reasonable time, I don't want you two burning the candle at both ends.'

  They left without uttering another word, a couple of minutes later they stood in the doorway of the station watching the clouds scuttle across the bruised sky.

  'Do you have a name for the guy from the gym?' he asked.

  'Harry Hoffer.'

  'Address?'

  Odette frowned as she realised that Thorpe hadn't been in touch to arrange a meeting with the man who had worked at the gym for years.

  'I need to chase it up,' she admitted.

  'Right, come on, we can head over to the gym and you can get it en route.'

  Seconds later, they were in the car, Odette on the phone as the DCI pulled off the car park.

  68

  Lasser was in the bath, the water hot and lapping close to the rim of the tub.

  Natasha had said she would pick him up around six, so he was killing time having a soak.

  His phone had remained silent and he had half expected it to ring as soon as he got into the water, only now was he starting to relax. His body ached from the battering, the bruising still black and blue though the hot water was helping ease the pain a little. Gradually, his heavy eyes closed, the usual images drifted through his mind, though for once the urgency wasn't there. He thought of Odette and tried to picture the man she had met in the Lakes, she had said he worked as an outward-bound instructor. No doubt he would be fit and healthy, a non-smoker who liked the occasional pint of real ale served from oak casks. Odette loved the outdoors, liked to keep fit, she watched what she ate and didn't smoke, so in many ways they were alike.

  The hot water seemed to mellow his thoughts and he grunted as he realised they would probably be well-suited.

  Her image slipped from his mind, replaced by Medea standing with him under the dripping plum tree.

  At one time, if she had kissed him then it would have rekindled the old feelings, leaving him bereft as she walked away. Now, however, he simply felt relieved that she had not been hurt during the attack.

  As he had done with Odette and her new friend he tried to picture Medea's attacker. She said he had been wearing a ski mask and then she had run, the terror chasing her through the house as she made it to the bathroom just in time.

  Beneath the water, Lasser shivered as he realised how things could have turned out if she hadn't managed to grab her phone and ring him.

  Taking that grim thought with him he drifted off to sleep, his brow furrowed as the ghosts swooped down to invade his mind.

  69

  May paused at the traffic lights, her hands resting lightly on the wheel, a slight smile on her face as she thought about Scott Moss. It had taken her half an hour to explain to Alec Walker, the MD of the company, all about Moss. He had watched the clips on her phone, his eyes growing ever wider as she showed him how Moss spent his days dragging his heels. When t
he video of him lunging forwards over the desk had appeared, Walker had leapt to his feet.

  'What the hell!'

  'And all this because he demanded I stay behind to complete work that I had already done, and that he had failed to upload because he was too busy spending what amounts to a full working day talking at the watercooler or sitting in his car.'

  Alec Walker had slumped back down in his chair, his face riven with fury.

  'Right, May, you get yourself off home I'll deal with Moss.'

  Checking the clock on the dash her smile grew even wider, with a bit of luck Moss would be clearing his desk and out of a job.

  The lights changed, and she moved forward, the trouble was she had seen the look of fury on Moss's face as he lunged over the desk, the same hatred had been evident in Clark and Bartle's eyes as they thought they had her cornered.

  She knew only too well how some men reacted when they thought they had been bested, especially by a woman.

  People like Moss would let the anger simmer inside, the thought that they had been in the wrong would never occur to them, they always looked to blame someone else for their downfall, and she knew that Moss would blame her utterly for what was about to happen to him.

  The smile slipped from her face, replaced not by a look of fear but one of fury.

  She would have to be extra vigilant in case he tried to exact revenge, she had seen it in his eyes, the loathing that she had dared to question him, and especially that she had been secretly gathering evidence that would put an end to his career.

  May thought about the plans for the night ahead and suddenly she felt a sliver of concern. Before each chase she had a ritual, one that left her calm in mind and body. She knew that going into the canal-side building when her mind was tense or preoccupied could turn out to be a disaster, one in which the tables were turned on her and she truly became the hunted.

  Another set of red lights appeared, she stopped then pulled out her phone and opened her emails. By the time the lights had changed back to green she had sent the message informing the man that the chase had been postponed to the following night. She gave no apology; no explanation just pressed the send button.

  Tonight, she would go home and have a light meal before heading out for a run to burn away the frustration of cancelling the meet at the huge empty mill.

  Then perhaps a bath and a movie, May smiled again and headed for home.

  70

  After Odette had rung Thorpe and got Harry Hoffer's address, Bannister had changed direction, heading instead for Shevington to track the man down.

  Pulling up outside the neat bungalow, they climbed out and headed up the drive, passing an old Rover on the driveway, the paintwork gleaming, the leather seats polished to perfection.

  Bannister stepped back as Odette rang the doorbell.

  Seconds later, the door opened, and Harry Hoffer smiled out at them. He was no more than five feet five inches tall but looked to be almost as wide, his wrinkled face at odds with the obvious muscles beneath his tight-fitting T-shirt.

  Odette stepped forward and introduced herself and Bannister, both showing their warrant cards.

  'Come in, come in, John mentioned you might call round to pick my brains,' Hoffer said and stepped back to usher them in.

  Bannister smiled thinly as they moved down the hallway and into a kitchen that contained a weight bench in the corner, a Thorpe's Gym towel hanging from one of the bars.

  'Now, who wants a brew?'

  'Black coffees please, sugar in one,' Odette answered.

  'Not a bother, take a seat,' he said as he turned and filled the kettle.

  By the time he had set it to boil they were sitting on pine chairs by the large table.

  'I still can't believe Clem and Edward are both dead, I mean, what a bloody world, eh?'

  'You knew them both?' Bannister asked.

  Hoffer grabbed three cups from the cupboard, placing them on the worktop. 'God, aye, they'd both been going there for a few years.'

  'They knew one another?'

  Hoffer looked at Odette, a slight frown adding to the wrinkles. 'Of course they did.'

  'You see, I asked John Thorpe and he didn't seem sure.'

  Hoffer sighed. 'Well, John's no body builder. His old man would be turning in his grave if he could see the lad now. Yeah, he likes to run and lifts a few weights, but he has no interest in building true muscle.'

  'His father started the gym then?' Bannister enquired.

  'Ronnie Thorpe was the real deal, he got through to the finals of Mr Great Britain on three separate occasions, top bloke he was.'

  'And how did he die?'

  'Heart attack while out jogging,' Hoffer said with a sad shake of the head. 'I told him jogging was a mug's game.'

  'And lifting huge weights isn't?'

  Hoffer smiled at Odette. 'A lot of folk think that but those who do it properly are super fit and strong with it. God gave us muscles and we try to make the most of that gift.'

  'What about the use of steroids?'

  The kettle boiled, and Hoffer started to make the drinks, talking over his shoulder as he did so. 'They used to be dodgy – I won't deny that – but these days the pharmaceutical companies spend millions on perfecting what they sell.'

  'So, it's safe, is that what you're saying?'

  Drinks made he turned and placed them on the table, pointing to one before leaning back against the sink. 'That's the one with sugar. They're safe if you use the right dosage and don't bugger about.'

  'And do the men at the gym stick to the right dosage?' Bannister asked before taking a careful slurp from the cup.

  'Not for me to say. Years ago, before you could get your hands on the supplements, there was always some dodgy bugger who could get them for you but there was no regulation, so it was always a risk. These days you can get the real deal off the internet, and to be honest the lads who do take them do it at home not at the gym.'

  'What about Clark and Bartle?' Odette asked.

  Hoffer pursed his lips. 'I would imagine you would be able to tell me that, after all they will both had been checked over by the pathologist.'

  Odette nodded. 'They both had steroid substances in their system, although we can't be sure if they used the same type.'

  'Aye, well they both took it seriously, so they wouldn't have been the type to ignore the label.'

  'Did they ever train together?'

  Hoffer thought for a moment before answering. 'To be honest, no.'

  'Is that unusual?' Bannister asked, placing the drink on the table.

  Hoffer smiled, showing a set of gleaming dentures. 'It's like most things, the more serious you take something then the more you have an eye on the opposition.'

  'Opposition?' Odette asked.

  'They were both in training for a big comp in the North-West.'

  'So, they stayed away from one another?'

  'Yeah, they were in the same weight category, so they would have been up against one another. Some of the lads have no problem training together, even with a comp coming up, but others like to go it alone.'

  'And the two dead men liked to train alone?'

  'They did.'

  'What about girlfriends?'

  Hoffer looked at Bannister as if he didn't quite understand the question. 'They came to the gym, but I have no idea what they did in their personal lives or who they were seeing.'

  Inwardly, Bannister sighed as he realised there would be no revelation from Harry Hoffer about the dead men.

  Pushing the cup to one side, he stood up. 'Well, thanks for your help, Mr Hoffer, and for the coffee.'

  A minute later they were back in the car.

  Bannister slid the key into the ignition. 'I bet Lasser would have at least two conspiracy theories up his sleeve and we have bugger all,' he said as he fired the engine to life.

  'Perhaps we should contact him and see what he has to say?' Odette asked hopefully.

  Bannister thought for a moment before shaki
ng his head. 'No. You heard what Carole said, she wants him out of the loop for a few days…'

  'Lasser's never out of the loop,' she interrupted.

  The DCI dragged up ragged smile. 'For now, we leave him, if things get too bad then we can go and see the bugger.'

  Odette thought of pushing the issue but decided that Bannister was right, this was one thing they needed to try and sort on their own. The problem was she knew that Lasser would come up with some suggestions and in the past, they had often led to a break in the case.

  Bannister pulled away from the kerb as Odette clicked the seatbelt into place, her face thoughtful.

  When the text came through she pulled the phone from her pocket, it was Craig saying how much he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

  She felt the sigh building and then pressed her lips together and replied saying she would be there as planned.

  71

  Lasser grabbed Tasha's sleeve bringing her to a halt as the Mercedes came flying onto the car park and hurtled past them before pulling into a parking space, the brake lights came on, shining bright red against the darkness.

  'Idiot,' Tasha glared over towards the car.

  'Come on, ignore them,' Lasser said as they walked towards the entrance of the restaurant.

  Opening the door to let her through, he pulled out his phone and pointed it at the black car just as the two men climbed out of the Mercedes, the driver laughing at something his mate had said.

  Checking the screen, Lasser pocketed the phone and followed his twin into the restaurant, walking over to the reception desk where Tasha was talking to a woman who looked to be in her early sixties.

  'You two have to be brother and sister,' the woman smiled as she looked from one to the other.

  Tasha returned the smile. 'Twins,' she explained.

  'How lovely. Table for two?'

  'Please.'

  The woman continued to smile as she got up and walked from around the desk, leading them into the restaurant just as the front door opened and the two men came in, both laughing, the sound braying out across the room.