Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021)
Page 5
'It was a simple enough question, you could have just apologised, and I would have accepted that, but people like you never apologise, do you? Because you think you have the right to do what the fuck you like, but now you know there are consequences to the way you behave. If I had my way, I would beat the shit out of you right here, right now,' he paused to take a gulp of wet air, 'but the truth is you are not worth it, you pathetic shit stain of a man,' he snarled down into the would-be attacker's stunned face.
Then Bannister spun on his heels and strode back to the car, seconds later, Lasser was behind the wheel and he performed another U-turn as the DCI fumed in the passenger seat.
Lasser kept his mouth closed as fury filled the interior of the car.
10
Carole sat behind the desk; her face etched with stress as she read Shaun Rourke's report from the night before. Reaching the part describing the body of the young female nailed to the wooden fireplace, she closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath, trying to purge her mind of the distressing imagery. Before she could continue, a knock came at the door and she closed the file, easing back in the chair.
'Come in!'
When the door opened and she saw Steve Black's bulk standing in the doorway she resisted the urged to grimace, managing instead to keep her expression neutral.
'Hello, Steven, what can I do for you?' she asked.
Stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him and walked to the desk. 'I want a word.'
'Please take a seat,' she said as the rain continued to pummel the office window.
Black paused for a moment before doing as she asked and then he folded his arms.
'Now, how can I help you?'
'Look, by rights I should be at home in bed, I worked the night shift and…'
'I'm well aware of your shift pattern, Steven.'
Black glared at her for a moment before nodding sharply. 'I want to make a formal, on-the-record, complaint about DI Noble.'
Carole felt her eyes widen slightly at his words. 'A complaint?'
'I don't take kindly to being accused of cowardice, and I also want Shannon reprimanded, I refuse to be made the scapegoat because of someone else's stupidity.'
'I assume this took place last night?' she asked.
'Correct.'
'Well, I've just been reading the report…'
'What report?' Black interrupted.
'The one filed by Shaun Rourke.'
Black pulled a sour face, his mouth twisted into a snarl of contempt. 'No doubt giving his side of the story.'
Easing forward, Carole placed her elbows on the desk. 'It isn't a ''story'', Steven, it's the murder of a young woman, and you might be surprised to find that there is no mention of any argument last night between you and him.'
'I'm talking about DI Noble and Shannon, not Rourke,' he spat.
'You have no problem with PC Rourke, is that what you're telling me?'
Black thought for a moment before answering, reminding himself to tread carefully, he knew that Henson and the others were as thick as thieves, and the last thing he wanted to do was give any of them ammunition to use against him.
'I made a personal decision not to enter that property, it was unsafe and a danger to life and limb,' he eventually replied. 'But I do not expect to be criticised and called a coward for having a mind of my own.'
Carole looked hard at the man opposite, the truth was he was a coward, an individual with no real backbone, though she also knew that cowards could be vicious when it came to defending themselves and causing trouble.
'And I want to know exactly what you intend doing about it?' he demanded.
'Obviously, I will have to have a word with DI Noble and get her side of what happened last night.'
'Oh, here we go, closing ranks.'
'I beg your pardon?' Carole tilted her head slightly.
'I've already told you what happened, and I want something done about it.'
'I'm sorry, Steven, but this isn't a dictatorship, I can't simply take your word as gospel without questioning anyone else who was involved.'
Suddenly, Black was on his feet. 'Right then, I can see I'm going to have to go further up the chain of command to get this sorted.'
Carole could feel the anger seething inside and yet she managed to keep a lid on her emotions. 'Listen to me, I will check all the facts and then take it from there, all I'm asking is that you give me the opportunity to do that.'
'Why bother, we both know what the outcome will be, you will take their side and things will carry on as normal with me being made to feel like a pariah.'
'Calm down, Steven, no one is singling you out for criticism.'
Black barked a bitter laugh. 'I'm treated like dirt on a daily basis, and all because I have a mind of my own, because I don't blindly follow others.'
Carole slipped her hands off the desk and clamped them together in her lap. 'The thing is, Steven, whenever you are out there with a colleague,' she jabbed a finger to the rain-lashed window, 'then you are a team, you support one another.'
'Rourke was a fool for going into that house, it was unsafe and…'
'But you were chasing an assailant, now I have no problem with you using your own discretion, and I would never expect any member of my team to put themselves at risk, but we are in the job of catching criminals and sometimes the job can be dangerous, you know that as much as the next person.'
'There you go again, spouting rubbish, you say you have no problem with me using discretion, but when I do, I'm accused of being a coward, a wanker, and told I should not even be in this job. Now you tell me if that's right, that I should have to be abused like that?' Black's voice rose in anger.
'As I said, I shall have a word with DI Noble, and I'll get back to you.'
'Not good enough,' he spun on his heels and headed for the door.
Carole thought about demanding he stop, but then she changed her mind, she had more important things to worry about than Steven Black's bruised ego, a young woman had been slaughtered, and yet Black had never even mentioned that fact, never even given the victim a second thought.
'Pathetic,' she hissed as Black stormed from the office, slamming the door as he went.
11
By the time they reached the hospital, Bannister had smoked another cigarette, his face still livid with anger. Finding a parking space, Lasser brought the car to a halt and lifted the handbrake.
'I'm full of rage,' Bannister suddenly said, his voice no more than a whisper.
Turning the engine off, Lasser glanced at his boss. 'Join the club,' he said with a sigh.
Bannister looked at him and frowned. 'You feel the same way?'
'Of course I do, and I suspect that anyone who does this job is the same,' he paused, 'unless your name is Steven Black, and you don't give a toss about anyone but yourself.'
Bannister grunted in agreement. 'You're going to have to keep a close eye on me.'
'In case you blow your stack?'
The DCI rubbed a hand down his face. 'Yeah, the truth is if you hadn't been there, I would have beaten that wanker to a pulp.'
'I know.'
'And as much as I hate scum like that, it isn't right, is it?' Bannister asked as if he couldn't quite trust his own judgment.
'Trouble is, we both know that people like him are just no fucking good, they don't give a shit about anyone but themselves and you just get tired of it all, because you know nothing you say to them will ever bring about any change.'
Bannister thought for a moment before nodding. 'You're right, but I still need to keep an eye on my temper, otherwise I'll be the one being locked up for losing the plot.'
'I've got your back,' Lasser said as he pushed the door open and stepped out into the rain.
Then they were heading for the main entrance to the hospital, both ignoring the rain that continued to lash down at them. Once inside, they made their way to the lift and headed down to the basement, Bannister knocking on Shannon's o
ffice door.
'Enter!' the doctor boomed.
Pushing the door open, they moved inside to find the big man behind his desk, tapping at the keys of a laptop. 'Ah, morning, you two, I was just going to give you a ring,' he said as they sat down facing him.
Pressing enter on the keyboard, Shannon lifted his head, he looked tired, dark smudges beneath his eyes, as usual his beard looked wild and unkempt.
'What can you tell us about the woman?' Lasser asked loosening his tie slightly against the heat in the room.
'It's a strange one, whoever killed her left the hammer behind, but the damage to her head was done with a knife, the hammer was only used when he came to nailing her to the fireplace.'
'So, he stabbed her in the bloody head?' Bannister growled in disgust.
Shannon nodded before rubbing at his tired eyes. 'There are at least four distinct stab wounds, the blade was around six inches long, and I would imagine there was some weight in the knife.'
'Are we talking hunting knife of some sort?' Lasser asked.
'In cases like this it's never easy to be exact. The only blessing is that she would probably have been brain dead in a matter of seconds.'
'What else can you tell us?' Bannister asked as he folded his arms.
'Aged between twenty and twenty-five, no distinguishing birthmarks, no tattoos or piercings, five feet five in height, weight just short of eight stone, at some point in the past she'd had her appendix and tonsils removed. There was some bruising to her upper left arm and the back of her neck,' he finished.
'Any idea how she got the bruises?'
Shannon looked thoughtful for a moment. 'I think the killer was responsible, probably as he frogmarched her to the house.'
'Do you have any idea why he nailed her to the fireplace?'
Shannon looked at the DCI in surprise. 'I'm a medical man, you're the detective.'
Under normal circumstances Bannister would have fired back a barbed comment but this time he just nodded.
'And she definitely died at the house?' Lasser asked to fill the silence.
'No doubt about it,' Shannon replied, still looking at Bannister who had his eyes downcast, but then the DCI was suddenly on his feet.
'Right, thanks for your help, Doc, and if you find anything else then you know where we are.'
Shannon watched as Bannister headed for the door, when he glanced at Lasser with bushy eyebrow raised, Lasser shook his head as a warning, and Shannon pursed his lips before nodding in understanding.
Seconds later, they were both gone, and Shannon eased back in the chair, the sorrowful frown fixed to his face as he sighed.
12
James Pence sat behind his desk, the computer on though he made no effort to look at what was on the screen, his mind was elsewhere, the pain in his head growing ever deeper, as it drilled into his brain.
When the tap came at the door, he looked up to see Robert Flack smiling at him through the rectangle of glass.
Seconds later, the door opened, and his business partner stepped into the room.
'Morning, James, have you spoken to Carters yet?'
'I've just tried ringing, but the MD is in a meeting,' James explained, ten minutes earlier he had taken another couple of paracetamol but so far, they weren't working.
'Typical,' Robert said as he sat down facing the desk. 'I was thinking of organising a team-building exercise.'
James sighed as he placed his pen on the desk. 'Why?'
'Come on, you know the team have been working flat out for these past three months, it would be a good way to blow off some steam and show them how much they're appreciated.'
'What did you have in mind?' James asked as he blinked rapidly in an effort to clear his vision.
Robert shrugged. 'Perhaps a weekend away in the Lakes, a bit of abseiling, some canoeing, you know the type of thing.'
'Well, knowing you, you will have already priced it all up.' James stated as he raised an eyebrow and then winced as another stab of pain lanced through his head.
Robert smiled, missing the look of pain that flashed across Pence's face. 'For the whole team I can get it all-inclusive for six grand, tax deductible of course.'
James tried to concentrate on what Flack was saying but the truth was he couldn't focus on anything.
'Are you OK?' Robert suddenly asked.
'I'm fine.'
'You don't look fine,'
James suddenly sat up straight and cleared his throat.
'I was up late working on the Carter contract. Now, about the weekend away for the team, go ahead and sort it but make sure you give everyone the time to clear their calendar.'
'Leave it to me,' Robert replied, his smile growing wider, but then it slipped, and his face grew serious. 'Look, James, I know how dedicated you are to the business, but you need to ease back a little, it's no use being successful and running yourself into the ground.'
Pence nodded, but the reality was he suddenly felt like screaming at Robert to mind his own business. It had been five years since they had started the advertising company and they were in a great position with plenty of top clients on their books. Though for the last twelve months it was as if Robert had taken his foot off the gas and was more content to go on ''team building'' weekends or sit in his office with his feet on the desk.
He was taking the cream and yet most days he left at least an hour early to head to the gym, and for the last three Fridays he hadn't even come into the office at all, choosing instead to head away for a long weekend.
Suddenly, James Pence started to talk, and it was as if the façade had been stripped bare revealing the anger beneath, fuelled by the pain that reverberated around his skull.
'I'm sorry, Robert, but the truth is while you bugger off to the gym, I am left here trying to make sure that the important stuff gets done. I mean, the Carter contract is a new one, and I have been the one trying to make sure that their needs are met.'
Robert looked at his partner in shock, but before he could say anything, James was talking again.
'We've been successful so far, but that doesn't mean we can take our foot off the gas, we have to keep moving forward, we have to keep up the effort because if we don't then others will step in to fuck us over, and all this hard work will have been for nothing.'
'Come on, James, we're good and…'
'You just don't get it, do you? One wrong move and we could be in trouble, all it takes is for one of our clients to have doubts that we're not giving one hundred percent and we could lose it all.'
Robert looked at his business partner, amazed by his outburst. 'Jesus, what is wrong with you? All the clients are more than satisfied, they get good results from what we offer, we started this company knowing we would have to put the hours in – and we've both done that – but I'm not going to chain myself to the bloody desk, I want a life outside this place, and I suggest you do the same.'
Pence glared across the table, his hands forming fists in his lap. 'And I'm telling you that we need to push on, we need to be the best, we need to be on top of things, and that doesn't mean it's all left to me while you dash off for long weekends and even longer lunches.'
Robert Flack felt his own anger ignite as he rose to his feet. 'I'm going to pretend that I heard none of that.'
'That's the trouble with you, selective fucking hearing,' Pence snarled as the clanging in his head increased.
Flack looked at his partner in astonishment. 'Is there something you're not telling me?' he suddenly asked.
'What are you talking about?' Pence fired back.
'Well, with the way you're ranting it's almost as if we're in the shit, and you're keeping things to yourself.'
'How dare you!' James Pence snarled as he thrust the chair away from the desk.
Taking a backward step, Robert watched as the fury writhed across his partner's face.
'Bloody hell, James, you need to calm down.'
'And you need to start pulling your weight, or I swear to God
I will sack you!'
'What are you talking about we're a partnership, I own half of this company, you can't just sack me, you bloody fool!?'
Somewhere deep inside, James Pence cringed, Robert was right they were equal partners, but the inner voice continued to rage. 'I'm sick of carrying you, sick of you taking all the benefits and doing fuck all for it!'
He watched as Robert turned and stormed across the office, snatching the door open before striding away, the door left open, James could see some of the team sitting behind their desks, their faces frozen in shock, their eyes wide in astonishment at the outburst.
Walking around the desk, Pence crossed the room and closed the door quietly, his body quivering with rage, his mind stuttering in disbelief at the way he had behaved.
'Idiot!' he hissed under his breath, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to regain a semblance of self-control, and yet all the time the pain in his head increased.
13
Roger scratched his chin as he read the information on the screen, his brow furrowed with confusion. When the door opened and Odette stepped into the room, he smiled.
'What are you doing here?' he asked as she slipped out of her coat and slid it onto the back of the chair.
'I couldn't sleep so I figured I may as well head back here and see if you'd found anything,' she walked around the desk and sat down by his side.
Roger caught the subtle scent of her perfume and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds.
'Is that the house?'
Clearing his throat, he nodded. 'Dove Cottage.'
Glancing at him in surprise, Odette eased forward slightly. 'It had a name then?'
'Mm.'
The image on the screen showed the house in which the dead woman had been found, though none of the windows were smashed, no slates missing from the roof, even the front door looked intact and painted a deep blue.
'When was this taken?' she asked.