Blood Bought

by Robin Roughley

  After showing Lasser where the body was, Stokes had tried to get his thoughts in order as the cavalry were called.

  'I've tried telling him what happened, but he won't believe me.'

  Bannister scowled. 'Well, try me.'

  Adam Stokes wiped a trembling hand across his mouth, his eyes flicked nervously between the two men. 'Look, I had no idea Moss was here until I walked through those doors,' he said, pointing across the vast space.

  Bannister didn't bother following his finger, instead he stepped close to the man and tilted his head. 'How did you know the dead man?'

  Stokes swallowed the block of fear that threatened to make him gag. 'I knew him years ago, we lived near one another and used to go out drinking now and again.'

  'And how long is it since you last saw Moss?'

  'It must be five or six years at least.'

  Bannister nodded as if he found the reply perfectly reasonable. 'OK, so what were you doing here?'

  Stokes glanced at Lasser who stood glaring at him with his dark eyes narrowed, then he hurriedly turned back to Bannister. 'I came here to meet a woman.'

  'Can I ask why?' Bannister asked pleasantly.

  Stokes face twisted, his face gleaming with sweat. 'To have sex,' he said in a whisper.

  Bannister looked around the darkened space. 'Whatever happened to wooing a woman, you know arranging to meet at the cinema or going out for a nice meal?' he directed the question at Lasser who shrugged.

  'Stokes here has fallen upon hard times. Meals are out. A derelict mill and a quick shag is his idea of romance now,' he explained, his eyes still fixed on Stokes's pallid face.

  'And how did you know this woman?' Bannister asked as he turned back to Stokes.

  'I didn't know her.'

  Bannister sighed. 'Help me out here, Mr Stokes, this is confusing to say the least.'

  'We only ever spoke online.'

  'Ah, an internet romance,' the DCI said.

  Stokes blinked as Bannister smiled.

  'Look, we arranged to meet here, I was meant to chase her and…'

  '''Chase her''?' Lasser tensed and took a step forward.

  Bannister held out a hand and stopped him in his tracks. 'You arranged to meet a total stranger in here, so you could chase her and then in your tiny mind this would end in sex?'

  Stokes nodded, his pale face suddenly burning with shame.

  'And then Moss – a man you knew from way back – just happens to be here at the same time and ends up dead while you escape. Is that what you're telling us?' Bannister asked.

  Lasser watched as Stokes squirmed.

  'It's the truth. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear to God that's exactly what happened. When I got here, Moss was standing over near the pallets and I couldn't believe it.'

  'Did he say what he was doing here?'

  Lasser saw Stokes close his eyes, his brow creased and lathered with sweat. 'No, he didn't.'

  'So, what did you talk about?' Bannister's voice dropped.

  'Nothing.'

  'No telling pork pies, Mr Stokes.'

  'It's the truth, I saw him and the next thing I know the mad bitch was attacking him with a bloody big knife, it was dark, but I know she had black hair and she was dressed in combat pants and a sweatshirt.'

  'And what did you do while she was attacking Moss?' Lasser asked.

  'I ran. Jesus Christ, she was like some wild animal, and he was fucking screaming his head off.'

  'You left him to die?' Bannister questioned.

  'You don't know what it was like, he was screaming, and she was screaming, and I shit myself because I knew I was going to be next, so I legged it.'

  Lasser looked at the man in disgust as Stokes glanced over towards the body and shivered in terror.

  'Have you done this type of thing before?' he asked through thinned lips.

  Stokes dragged his eyes away from the sprawled form of Moss and nodded. 'Once.'

  'Where?'

  'Rivington,' Stokes replied automatically, his mind still locked on the body of Moss, his guts hanging out in a puddle of blood.

  Lasser suddenly thought of the man trying to get at Medea, her home was on the outskirts of Rivington.

  'When?' Lasser demanded.

  Bannister slipped his hands into his pockets and shivered against the cold in the air.

  'Months ago, I…'

  'Spend a lot of time in Rivington do you, chasing people in the dark?'

  Stokes looked at Lasser, his eyes springing wide and then he quickly snapped his head away. 'I told you it was a one-off.'

  'Have you seen Medea lately?' Lasser asked.

  Bannister's face suddenly hardened. 'Stokes. I thought the name was familiar.'

  Lasser nodded slowly. 'Remember the time Medea was attacked…'

  'Outside your place?' Bannister interrupted.

  Stokes pressed himself back against the wall, his gaze fear-filled.

  'Yeah, well, remember Stokes here used to be her boyfriend? But she said he was a cheating shit, so she kicked his sorry arse out the door, and then she started to get hassled by some sick fuck.'

  Bannister nodded slowly. 'I remember it well.'

  'Yeah and if you hadn't chased the prick off then he would have raped Medea and…'

  'I don't know what you're talking about!' Stokes yelped, though the terror on his face told a different story.

  'Tell us exactly where you were three nights ago?'

  Adam Stokes withered under the twin glares of anger that radiated out at him from the two men who moved ever closer.

  'I was at home, I don't have a job or a car, and…'

  'If I remember rightly, back then you didn't have a car, but you had access to your mother's, didn't you?' Lasser asked, his voice no more than a savage hiss.

  'Look, I was in all night and…'

  'You said you've moved back to your mother's, right?'

  Stokes could feel the ground shifting beneath his feet as the questions came thick and fast.

  'Yeah, but I swear I was in the house and…'

  'PC Wright!' Bannister suddenly shouted.

  Stokes jerked at the sound and then Sally appeared at Bannister's side.

  'Yes, sir?'

  'I want you and Spenner to take Mr Stokes here down to the station, he's going to make a full statement and I don't want him released until I say so.'

  'Understood,' she replied.

  Stokes started to shake as he realised that he was not out of the woods yet, in fact, he was lost in the darkness, and the two men before him would hunt him down until they discovered the truth and…

  'If you'd like to follow me, Mr Stokes,' Sally said before taking hold of his sleeve and leading him away.

  Lasser watched them go as Bannister blew into his cupped hands. 'Do you think he was the one who broke into Medea's place?'

  'Well, it should be easy to check his alibi with the mother,' Lasser said.

  'Right, well, that will have to wait for now. I want you to find out about Moss, and I still want the Viners finding.'

  Lasser felt the yawn building behind compressed lips but managed to swallow it back down.

  'You looked fucked,' Bannister observed with zero compassion.

  'Yeah, well, I didn't manage to nod off and then Spenner rang and…'

  'Well, you'll have to forget about sleep, we have a busy day ahead so get your skates on and find out about Moss.'

  Lasser nodded before walking towards the door, he raised a hand to Doc Shannon who returned the gesture together with a sympathetic shrug.

  By the time he made it outside, the sky had turned a shade paler as the night slowly came to an end.

  Climbing into the car, he thought about Stokes and the dead man and shook his head. According to Stokes, the two men hadn't seen one another for around six years, not even spoken on the phone and yet they had ended up in the same mill. Stokes had gone to chase some woman but what had Moss been doing there?

  He thought of Clark and B
artle – both murdered whilst chasing someone through the woods. Now, Moss had been savagely slaughtered, yet Stokes had managed to escape. The question was who was the mystery woman and was she responsible for killing all three men, and if so what linked them?

  Cracking a yawn, he rubbed at the ache in his neck before taking another pull on the cigarette. The fact that Stokes and Moss had known one another couldn't simply be a coincidence and yet they had both been lured here by the woman, either together or separately. Moss had died, and Stokes had run onto the street in terror to be found by Spenner and Sally Wright.

  As always at times like this he thought of Susan Coyle, he had lost count of the number of times he had called on her for help. He knew that were she still here then she would have all the information on Moss in around ten minutes, as it was his brain felt stagnant and worn out.

  Dragging out his phone, he contacted the station, Meadows answering on the third ring.

  Lasser started to fill him in on the details, barrelling on every time Meadows tried to interrupt.

  'So, I need an address ASAP.'

  'Right, give me five and I'll get back to you.'

  Lasser ended the call and then eased back and closed his eyes, his mind locking onto the image of Jackie Francis waving to him as he walked away. Seconds later, his sigh turned into a snore as he fell asleep.

  111

  Andrew Viner cried out as his father slammed him back against the car, the coke running around his brain only served to highlight the fear.

  Frank Viner had left his Jaguar's lights on and now he pushed his face in close to his son's.

  'It was you who tried to break into my house, wasn't it!?' Frank screamed, spittle flying from his twisted mouth.

  Andrew tried to push him away, but he was slammed back into the side of the car, yelping in pain as his father shook him like a terrier shaking a rat.

  'It wasn't me, I don't know what you're talking about!' he wailed in response.

  When he saw the look in his father's eyes, Andrew knew that his old man didn't believe a word he was saying.

  'You lying little shit. I know it was you and I know you sent that prick, Black, to rob my house, my fucking house!'

  The wind blew over the miles of open moorland, the sky was starting to lighten slightly but Andrew Viner saw none of this as his old man cracked the back of his hand across his face.

  'All your life you've been a waste of space – I could have forgiven that – but you had to try and take the piss, didn't you? Strutting around like the big ''I am'', and yet you are nothing but a spoiled brat, a bloody parasite, sponging off me every chance you get, and a fucking rapist to boot!'

  Andrew tried to cover his head with his hands, but his father slapped them down and pushed his sweating face even closer, eyes manic, teeth bared.

  'Well, I'm here to tell you that the money stops now, and I don't give a flying fuck what your mother has to say about it. You have twenty-four hours to get your stuff from the apartment, and then I'll be having the locks changed. Same with the car, chances are you'll be banned anyway so you won't need it, though it looks as if you ignored the fact because you drove here.'

  'I…'

  'You can go and stay with your bitch mother and tell her from me that if she thinks she can threaten me with the coppers then go ahead, I don't give a toss. I might end up behind bars for a couple of years, but you will go down for a hell of a lot longer, and you'll not last five minutes when the bastards in there find out what you really are!'

  Andrew listened to every word, the terror growing as he realised his father meant what he was saying. All his life he had ignored his old man's warnings, after all, his mother had told him that he would never make good on his threats. His father had too much to lose, but now Andrew realised that this time he had pushed too far.

  Then his father thrust him to the side, and he fell hard to the ground, the lights from the Jaguar glaring into his face.

  'You stay away from me, do you hear? You stay away from Cheryl, because if I see you or even fucking sniff you then I will beat the shit out of you and drag you to the cop shop myself.'

  Frank Viner turned away and started to walk back towards the car, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head in anger.

  Reaching out a hand, Andrew tried to push himself upright and felt his hand close on the jagged chunk of stone.

  Suddenly, the fear seemed to vanish replaced by the usual petulance, his old man was a cunt and now he was going to be cut loose with no access to any cash.

  Leaping to his feet, his right hand clasping the stone, he ran forward, his mouth opening, the scream building as the wind whipped into his ravaged face.

  Frank Viner never heard his son approach, the scream erupted from Andrew's mouth as the chunk of stone slammed into the back of his head with skull-shattering force.

  Viner pitched forward, his eyes closing as the blood sprayed out onto the grass, he hit the ground with a thud and then Andrew fell down onto his back, arms raised, his teeth bared as he slammed the rock down again.

  His father's feet drummed on the wet earth, his hands grasping at the tufted grass.

  The stone smashed through the remains of his skull, pulverizing the brain beneath into a soggy, greasy pulp.

  Andrew tried to lift the rock for a third time but his fingers, slick with blood and gore, slipped free and he fell back to the ground, his scream ripping out into the gloom.

  Suddenly, he felt rain, lifting his head Andrew Viner clasped his hands on his face and let the rain trickle down over his blood-red fingers.

  Close by, the engine of Frank Viner's Jaguar continued to purr.

  112

  Pulling up in front of the small semi-detached on a new development, Lasser yanked on the handbrake.

  Pushing the door open, he clambered out and cracked a yawn.

  When the front door opened, and the woman stepped out, he closed his mouth quickly, watching as she shut the door and headed towards the BMW parked in front of Lasser's car.

  Dressed in jeans and a waterproof jacket, she glanced at him and pulled her car keys from her pocket as if she were pulling out a knife for protection.

  'Excuse me, but does Scott Moss live at the house you just came out of?'

  She stopped, her blue eyes held more than a hint of nervous tension. 'Why do you want to know?' she asked, coming to a halt.

  Lasser fumbled the warrant card from his pocket and held it out. 'I'm Detective Sergeant Lasser,' he explained. 'Is this Moss's house?'

  She moved forward slowly and glanced at the card before looking up at him, her blue eyes bright.

  'Is this to do with what went on at work?'

  Pocketing the warrant card, Lasser took a step closer, he could smell the subtle scent of expensive perfume, her blond hair hung down to her shoulders.

  'I'm sorry, you've lost me?'

  Gemma flicked her head and her hair swept away from her face. 'Scott was sacked from work yesterday and I thought that's what you were doing here.'

  'What does he do for a living?' Lasser asked, deliberately keeping the fact that Moss was dead to himself. The last thing he wanted was to break the news to the woman – who obviously knew the dead man – and have her clam up.

  'He worked at Walkers in town, they sort out financial solutions for other businesses and…'

  'Why did he get the sack?'

  Gemma sighed heavily. 'He had an altercation with another member of staff.'

  'What sort of altercation?'

  He saw the colour blush her cheeks as she glanced up at the lightening sky. 'According to Scott, he said this woman was after his job and she pushed his buttons, and he kind of lost the plot for a few seconds.'

  'They had words?'

  'It was more than that, the woman filmed him on her phone as he went for her over the desk.'

  Lasser scowled at the news.

  'This was in front of the whole office, she went straight to the main boss and showed him what Scott had done, and
he sacked him on the spot.'

  Lasser absorbed the news as the sun peeped over the roof of the houses. 'Can I ask how you know Moss?'

  'We were together but not after this.'

  'You're leaving him?'

  'I left yesterday but I forgot one of my bank cards, so I just came back to get it. Thankfully he wasn't in, so…'

  'Moss is dead,' Lasser dropped the bombshell and watched as the woman gasped and took a tremulous backward step.

  'Dead!?' her eyes sprang wide, her right hand fluttered to her mouth.

  Lasser slipped his hands into his pockets. 'I'm sorry to break the news to you, but he was killed a few hours ago. That's what I'm doing here, I need to take a look around the house and…'

  'But how? I mean why?'

  'He was found in Leigh, stabbed.'

  '''Leigh''!?'

  'I take it he didn't go there often?'

  Gemma tried to absorb the news, but her mind was sinking into shock, her hands shaking, her eyes sparkling with tears.

  'Can I have your name please?' Lasser asked.

  Her eyes managed to refocus though the shock was still evident. 'Gemma Haslam.'

  'I realise this is hard, Gemma, but I really need to know more about Scott then we can catch the person responsible for his death.'

  Lifting the key from her pocket she held it out, her hand trembling. 'Take it, if you want to check the house, I…'

  'Would you mind coming in then we can have a chat.'

  Gemma drew her arm back and then wiped her eyes. 'I just don't understand what he was doing in Leigh. I know he wasn't happy when I told him it was over, but he normally drinks in Wigan, he never goes over to Leigh, he always called it a dump.'

  'He wasn't found in any pub, he was discovered in an old derelict mill by the canal.'

  She blinked at him, the confusion back in her eyes. 'I don't understand,' she whispered.

  'Look, come with me into the house, I really need to take a look around, and I can tell you what I know while I do it.'

  When she didn't move he stepped forward and took hold of her elbow before leading her back towards the house.

  Finally, the tears started to slide free from her eyes.