'Eat the fucking food,' he said as he tilted his head slightly.
When she made no movement, Flack frowned, the anger bubbling inside, the other bitch had taken the food and drink, yet she had been planning her escape, weighing up her options and biding her time. Waiting for that one moment when she could catch him unawares, sending him hurtling down the incline, and it had only been luck that had kept him from falling into the river below and being swept away in the rolling torrent of water.
Suddenly, he picked up the plate and glass and hurled them against the wall, both shattering on impact, the sandwiches falling apart as Morgan cringed back, her eyes wide and frantic, and then he backtracked to the door before turning and glaring at her, she looked terrified, her eyes wide and glassy but then again so had the other one and look how she had fooled him.
'Fucking little whore!' With a snarl, he thrust the door open and stepped out into the rain, slamming it closed and locking it. He stood in the downpour for a few seconds letting the rain fall onto his fevered brow, before heading to the house, wishing the hours away until he could kill Morgan Pence and please his mentor.
95
Bannister listened to Lasser explaining about Donald Finder, they were still at the station gathered around the computer, and as soon as he heard the name Roger typed it in, two seconds later the details popped onto the screen.
'And you're sure this Finder was around when the killings took place?' Bannister asked.
'Yeah, but the important thing is that they only took place when he came back to Wigan, at one point he was gone for around six years and within a few months of him coming back Pam Frost was found dead in a ditch.'
Roger turned and looked at the DCI.
'He's right,' he said. 'All the murders correspond with Finder's being here in Wigan at the time.'
Bannister's scowl grew deeper and then he looked at Odette. 'Come on, we're going to head over there and meet Lasser, then we can grill the guy.'
Carole gave them the nod. 'Do it, we'll stay here and try and dig up more about Finder.'
'So where does he live?' Bannister asked as they headed for the door.
'An old vicarage in Chorley…'
'Chorley! Bannister interrupted, his voice filled with urgent tension.
'I know, it's another link, the house is about half a mile after the White Crow Inn on the left, but I'm almost there now.'
'Right, wait for us and…'
'We can't be wasting time, if he knows anything about the killer then we have to know now before Morgan Pence dies.'
Bannister barged through a set of double doors. 'OK, but go easy, Sergeant, Finder has to be in his seventies, and I do not want him having a heart attack when he sees you at the front door.'
'Understood,' Lasser replied.
Bannister thrust the phone into his pocket, he and Odette made it outside and then they were running for the car, neither saying a word but both feeling anxious as they jumped into the Audi, the rain coming down heavier than ever.
96
Pulling onto the drive, the headlights hit the front of the large property built of darkened sandstone, Lasser could see slivers of light to the left, though blinds were drawn over the window. Swinging the wheel slightly, he brought the car to a halt, the full beam hitting the lit window. He waited, the wipers swishing back and forth, and then a few seconds later, the blind shot up, and he saw the man standing at the window. Donald Finder pretty much fitted the image Lasser had conjured in his head, Bannister had said he was in his seventies, but Finder didn't look it. Even through the rain-speckled windscreen, Lasser could see thick grey hair swept back from a high forehead, he was dressed in a pale grey shirt, even at this time of night he was wearing a tie.
Turning the wheel, the headlights swept away from the window, and the man vanished from sight. Lasser could hear the crunch of the wheels rolling over deep gravel, the sound momentarily obliterating the hiss of the driving rain.
Parking with the front door to his left, he lifted the handbrake and turned off the lights and engine before stepping out and heading to the front door, the rain lashing directly into his face as he rapped his knuckles on the door.
The seconds ticked by, Lasser glanced to the left, he could see the camera set in the brickwork about ten feet up and aimed at where he was standing. Suddenly, he pictured Finder watching a surveillance screen as he stood by the door getting drenched.
Reaching out he banged harder. 'Mr Finder, my name is DS Lasser and I'd like a word!' he shouted.
When he heard the lock click, he stepped back and dipped a hand into his pocket before lifting out his ID card.
The door opened slowly, Finder looked him up and down with keen blue eyes set in a face that was almost wrinkle-free.
Without waiting to be asked Lasser held out the ID. 'I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, Mr Finder, but this is important.'
The tall man glanced at the card before looking at Lasser, his face unreadable.
Rain continued to batter the top of Lasser's head before trickling onto his shoulders and down the collar of his jacket.
'What's this about?' Finder eventually asked.
'It's about murder,' Lasser replied.
Finder didn't flinch, his eyes fixed unblinking on Lasser's face.
'I assume you know who I am and the job I did?' Finder asked.
'We know all about you, Mr Finder, and …'
'DCI Finder,' the man in the doorway interrupted.
Lasser took a step forward, but Finder didn't budge.
'You've been retired for years so you're just a ''Mr'' now.'
For the first time, Lasser saw a flicker of emotion on the man's face, aggravation came and went in an instant then Finder stepped back.
'You had better step inside,' he said.
Lasser did just that as Finder closed the door behind him.
'Follow me,' turning, he strode along the panelled hallway and into a room on the left.
Flicking on the light, Finder headed to a desk that stood over by the window, walking around it he sat down and looked at Lasser in the doorway.
The room looked more like an interrogation room than a cosy study, the walls were bare, no bookcases or pictures just the table and two chairs, even the desk was clear of clutter.
'Take a seat, Sergeant,' Finder said.
Lasser reached the chair in three strides before sitting down.
'Now what's this about?'
'Ethel Brab.'
The retired DCI pursed his lips. 'It's been a long time since I've heard that name.'
'Penny Salter,' Lasser continued. 'Norma Rowbottom.'
'You work cold cases?' Finder asked without any hint of emotion in his voice.
'No, I don't,' Lasser paused, 'Susan Hope, Pam Frost and Sharon Bliss.'
'The names are familiar to me,' Finder replied as he remained motionless in the chair.
'All unsolved murders that took place on your watch.'
'That's incorrect, when Ethel Brab died, I was nothing but a PC, Bob Ross was in charge, in fact he was in charge when most of the killings took place, so perhaps you would like to rephrase your statement?'
'Do you watch the news, listen to the radio?' Lasser asked, ignoring Finder's complaint.
Another flash of anger passed over Donald Finder's face. 'I want you to retract the slur you've just made against me.'
'You look like a Radio Four listener to me, so perhaps you are unaware that we have a copycat killer loose in this town.'
Finder glared for a moment and then he folded his hands over his flat stomach. 'I worked in the force for a very long time and to me reputation is everything, so I advise you again to retract that slur.'
'I've just told you we have a copycat killer on the loose, and we know for a fact that he is copying murders from the past, specifically cases you were involved in,' Lasser tilted his head slightly. 'Yet you seem more concerned about your ''reputation'' a reputation that ended when you retired.'
&nb
sp; 'How dare you!' Finder's voice rose in disbelief. 'You turn up here at this ungodly hour and insult me, well, Sergeant, I will be putting in a complaint about your behaviour, and, believe me, I still have the ear of important people as you are going to find out.'
Lasser wiped the rain from his forehead and looked at his wet fingers for a couple of seconds. 'What was Bob Ross like?' he suddenly asked.
'Are you even listening to me, you moron?' Finder demanded.
'I'm always listening, but so far all I've heard is you being evasive.'
Finder seemed to inflate in the chair, his face twitched, then he seemed to gain control of the anger and eased back slightly. 'Do you know something, Sergeant, when I look at the world I despair and that's not necessarily because the world itself has changed, no it's because when I look at you, I see everything that is wrong with the system, I see…'
'Is this your ''good old days'' speech?' Lasser interrupted. 'The one where you tell me that in your day, I would have been sacked on the spot for daring to speak to you like this?'
'Someone like you would not have even got the job in the first place,' Finder snapped.
'Tom Barry was right about you,' Lasser said as he looked over Finder's shoulder at the rain hitting the black pane of glass.
Finder blinked twice, a frown now showing the first of the creases on his brow. 'Barry?'
'Yeah, he said you were up your own arse,' Lasser said.
Finder seemed to judder in the seat, his hands suddenly gripping the chair arms. 'You've been talking to Barry about me, about ME!'
'Come on, Mr Finder, you know how these things work, you were a detective – of sorts – and…'
'''A detective of sorts''!' Finder bellowed.
Lasser eased forward in the chair, his eyes hardening. 'I would have thought you'd have been more interested in helping this enquiry rather than getting all hot under the collar because I had a word with an old colleague.'
'I want to know what gives you the right to discuss me with a nobody like Barry?' he demanded.
'We simply follow the clues, and those clues have led me here.'
'Clues, what clues?' Finder fumed; his knuckles white as he continued to grip the chair arms.
'You don't listen to the radio or watch the news, so I'll fill you in,' Lasser said. 'Ethel Brab died in…'
'I know when she died, you fool!'
'Getting your memory back, are you?'
Finder's mouth twisted into a snarl, and suddenly he was on his feet. 'I want you out of my house right now!' he said as he stabbed a bony finger at the door.
Lasser remained seated, his anger growing for the man who raged before him, he had come across people like Finder before, individuals who cared only for themselves and for their reputation. He had no doubt that when he had been in charge then he had ruled with a rod of iron, suddenly he cast his mind back and he pictured DS Hopkins. Hopkins had been the same as Finder, a man who believed that those beneath them were there to be ordered about, to do all the legwork while he spent his time in front of the camera building his ''profile'' and taking the credit when things went well, blaming someone else when they went wrong. In the end it had amounted to nothing as he lay in the darkened woodland, his throat sliced open as he died.
'Julie Rawlins was found in Dove Cottage in the same bedroom that Ethel Brab died in, bludgeoned to death and then nailed to the fireplace exactly like Brab fifty years earlier.'
'Out!' Finder repeated, his quivering finger still pointed at the door.
'Then the killer took a fifteen-year-old girl and killed the lad she was with, he held her for three days before throwing her into the back of a van and taking her to Borsdane Woods with the intention of killing her and burying her body near the remains of another victim, remains from way back, remains that could very well belong to the missing Penny Salter. But the girl he snatched managed to escape, she did the impossible and she outsmarted the bastard who took her. I'm telling you all this, and yet still you stand there pointing at the fucking door. That tells me you don't give a shit about anyone but yourself.'
Finder slowly lowered his arm, his face disfigured with rage. 'I've already told you that when Brab died I was a PC; Bob Ross ran the show.'
'''Ran the show''?' this time it was Lasser's turn to snarl.
'We simply did as we were told, we did our job.'
'Barry said the same thing and believe me, I know what it's like to be ordered about when you are new the job.'
'Yes well, I will make sure you get reprimanded for this, and if I had my way you would be sacked.'
'There you go again, more concerned about your reputation. Another young girl is missing and could well be in the hands of an animal who intends copying one of the murders from the past, but why should that concern you?'
Taking a deep breath, Finder sat back down though he still glared across the desk at Lasser with hate in his eyes. 'Bob Ross was a good copper, a good man, and I was proud to have served with him though I don't expect someone like you to understand something like that.'
'I have my moments,' Lasser replied with the flicker of a dark smile.
'Oh no, you are a loner, I know your type, the kind who thinks they are outside the team, think they can go it alone. Well, I am here to tell you that a maverick attitude will never get you anywhere.'
'Don't worry about me, I'm exactly where I want to be,' Lasser paused, 'what about when Ross was killed, what did you think about that, what did you do about it?'
For the first time, he saw a flicker of uncertainty in the man's eyes, and Lasser waited for him to respond.'
'Bob Ross died in a hit and run,' he eventually replied.
'No, he didn't,' Lasser fired back as he folded his arms. 'Hit and runs are normally accidental, the driver panics and then drives away, Ross was crushed against the tunnel wall at Borsdane Woods.'
'I know where it happened,' Finder replied, though suddenly he looked somehow diminished.
'Who was in charge when it happened?'
This time Finder moved slightly in the chair. 'I was.'
Raising an eyebrow, Lasser pursed his lips. 'And what did you do to try and find his killer?'
'It was a hit and run,' Finder insisted.
'Did you ever discover what he was doing there in the first place?'
'No.'
'What enquiries did you make?'
'It was looked into thoroughly.'
Lasser snorted a light laugh. 'Really?'
'Yes really, though we never discovered what Bob was doing there.'
'Well, obviously he didn't go there alone that night, did he?'
Finder cleared his throat, his eyes flitted around the room before coming to rest on Lasser. 'We were sure of nothing, you claim Ross was somehow deliberately trapped between the car and the wall, but you have no proof of that. Or perhaps you are one of those officers who make the facts fit their version of events?'
'Or you could be one of those who choose to ignore what's in front of them because it suited you. When I spoke to Tom Barry earlier, he said that Borsdane Woods were searched after Penny Salter vanished, did you take part in that search?'
'Yes, I did,' Finder snapped, though the look of uncertainty was still hovering in his eyes.
'Do you have any idea what you were searching for?'
'We thought we were looking for the missing girl.'
'And yet years later when your old boss was killed at the entrance to the same woods it didn't ring a bell with you, is that what you're trying to tell me?'
'Like I said, Bob Ross's death was investigated, and I see no link between where he was found and what had happened years earlier.'
'You see no link between Ross and whoever he was with going to the same woods that you had searched?'
'As you said there were years in between the two events, and nothing was ever found in those woods.'
'You say events, I say murders.'
'Labelling something when you have no proof is not the way a dec
ent officer conducts himself,' Finder tilted his chin, the aloof glimmer back in his eyes.
'Perhaps if you lot had been more thorough then you would have found the bones, the same ones that were discovered last night.'
Finder's eyes widened slightly at the news and then he shrugged. 'As I said we simply followed orders and after Norma Rowbottom was found the search of the woods was called off.'
'You used to be close to Barry, didn't you, you started at the same time, worked on the Wigan force but then you got too big for your boots, went away for a while and came back as a DS, suddenly you started to order people about and…?'
'Is that what Barry told you, is he the font of knowledge that you keep spouting?'
The rain continued to lash at the window, there were no lights visible in the darkness.
'I know how people like you work, the higher you climb the more you believe your own hype and the more you lord it over everyone below you.'
'And there speaks a man who will never make DI status.'
'None of that matters to me.'
Finder smiled, suddenly looking more relaxed as he stared at Lasser.
'That's good, considering you may find yourself back in uniform when this is all over.'
Lasser opened his mouth to fire back a retort but Finder didn't give him the chance.
'You seem to have listened to a lot of what Barry had to say and, let me guess, he gave you the old, ''I've worked in Wigan my whole life, man and boy'' routine?' Finder asked.
'There's nothing wrong with staying rooted to your home town.'
'I didn't say there was, but did he get around to telling you that he had put himself forward to be a detective three times and he never made the grade?'
Lasser blinked at the news and then he eased forward slightly. 'What are you talking about?'
'It's simple enough, Tom Barry always wanted to be a detective, but he wasn't good enough. He tried to act as if he didn't care but believe me, he did, he hated the fact that I moved on and he stayed stuck as a PC. He used to spread rumours about me, he tried to make out that I was ''up my arse'' as you put it, but it was nothing more than spite on his part.'
Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021) Page 32
