Vanished Beneath: DS Lasser six (The Lasser series Book 6)

by Robin Roughley

  Lasser nodded in agreement. 'You see it a lot in this job, most of the time they deny there's a problem, they think they can cope with the situation and then before you know it it's too late.'

  She looked sadly at the photograph on top of the telly. 'I was always proud of the way I raised them, they always had manners, even our Joseph - until he started sticking a needle in his arm.'

  Lasser sighed and then they heard a key in the front door.

  'That'll be our Elizabeth,' Tilly said before blowing her nose on a piece of tissue.

  Lasser stood up and placed his cup on the table, as he turned Lizzie walked into the room with a toddler held in her arms.

  'Who's this then?' Lasser asked.

  'This is our Bobby,' Tilly said with a proud smile.

  'How are you, Mum?' Lizzie asked her face creased in concern.

  'I'm fine, love, now you give us the baby and I'll make myself scarce then you two can have a chat.'

  Lizzie handed the kid to her mum before sliding a scarf from around her neck. 'So, what's this all about, Lasser?'

  He waited until Tilly had left the room, the kid on her hip.

  'Have you ever heard of Donald Elliot?'

  'I don't think so; why he is the one you think killed our Joe?'

  Lasser nodded, 'And Mary Sheldon and the unknown female.'

  'Have you caught him yet?'

  'Last night, we found him staying at Mary's house.'

  Lizzie sat down on the sofa before folding her hands in her lap. 'So what happens now?'

  'Well, we've got enough to charge him for the murder of Sarah Clark.'

  Lizzie frowned. 'But it said on the news that she'd been attacked on a country lane near Rivington.'

  By the time Lasser had explained his theory about Sarah Clark still being alive after taking the drug, Lizzie's face was cold with anger. 'Sick bastard,' she hissed.

  'We're still gathering evidence and like you said it looked as if Mary was staying somewhere else rather than at the house in Leigh, and I was wondering if you had any ideas?'

  'Christ, Lasser, it's been two years since I left the force.'

  'I realise that but you know what it's like, people like Mary tend not to make too many new friends.'

  Lizzie nodded. 'Well, like I told you before, she didn't have any long term partner, in fact, I got the impression that she didn't trust men, didn't like them.'

  'Hardly surprising.'

  'Well yeah, but that's not what I mean, you see I think she preferred the company of other women.'

  Lasser pursed his lips as the penny dropped. 'Was there anyone in particular?'

  'Kylie Frodsham.'

  'The girl with the violent ex?'

  'Yeah, I mean, I never asked Mary about it but I'm pretty sure they were seeing one another at the time.'

  'Any idea where she was living?'

  Lizzie thought for a moment. 'I know she had a house on the Hag Fold estate, but she could have moved on by now.'

  'Right, I'll look into it.'

  'Hang on you don't think she had anything to do with what happened do you?'

  Lasser slid the car keys from his pocket. 'No, it's nothing like that I just want to know why nobody reported Mary missing.'

  'And you think that Kylie might be able to help you?'

  'To be honest, Liz, this is just me clutching at straws, I mean, Kylie and Mary might have separated...'

  'Or they could have had an argument and Kylie thinks Mary is still at the house in Leigh?'

  Lasser frowned. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

  'For all you know she might think Mary's still alive.'

  'Shit.'

  Lizzie eased back in the chair. 'I'm glad I got out of the job, Lasser.'

  'I can't say I blame you.'

  'You're a bright guy why do you stay?'

  Lasser stood up and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, the muscles in his shoulders ached with stress. 'Believe me, Lizzie, that's a question that I ask myself on a daily basis.'

  'You'll let me know how you go on?'

  Lasser picked his jacket up from the chair arm. 'Of course and if you can think of anything else then you can ring me anytime.'

  She sighed and nodded before standing up then brushed her lips across his cheek. 'Good luck,' she said with a sad smile.

  56

  Emma could smell her own fear in the confines of the car, a stale mixture of sweat and tears.

  'Why are you doing this?' she asked in a low trembling voice.

  The car was parked on top of the hill overlooking the reservoirs below; up here, a stiff wind tossed the tufted grass of the surrounding moorland, grey clouds scuttled across a sky that seemed to be growing darker by the minute.

  'Shut your mouth - I'm trying to think,' he snarled.

  Ever since she'd answered the door her life had suddenly become the stuff of nightmares. She tried to remember what she'd said as he led her to the car, Emma had a vague recollection of trying to pull away and then his hand had gripped her arm with frightening strength. She'd looked around at the other houses in the cul-de-sac but there had been no one on any of the drives, no one to call out to for help.

  They'd spent the night in a lay-by, her fear escalating as she was forced to listen to his irrational ramblings. He'd questioned her about Medea, demanding to know why she had gone to a friend's house rather than that of her father.

  'Does she know about us?' he asked.

  Emma had snapped her mouth open to give an honest reply and then for some strange reason she'd changed her mind. 'She knows all about you, your name, where we live, the way you've treated me...'

  His hand had lashed out in the gloom catching the side of her face with a crack. 'Why can’t women keep things to themselves?' he'd hissed as though he was asking himself a question that had no answer.

  'If you let me go then we can forget about this, you can go back to London and...'

  'And you'll move back up here, is that what you were going to say?'

  Emma rubbed gingerly at her bruised cheek. 'It isn't working between us, Andy, you know that as much as I do.'

  'Of course it's fucking working!' his face had ballooned towards her out of the dark, his eyes wide and manic, and his lips drawn back in a snarl. 'You just need to learn who's in charge.'

  Emma had felt her own anger flicker to life. 'I'm not coming back with you.'

  'You'll do as you're told,' his voice had been low and measured.

  'Medea will have called the police, they'll have your name. They've probably already been to my father's house so he'll be able to give them a description...'

  When he'd grabbed her around the throat she thought her life would end in the litter strewn lay-by. She felt his hands shake with fury as he tightened his grip; she tried to push them away though this only seemed to infuriate him further.

  In the end he'd sprung away from her, leaving her clawing at her neck as she desperately tried to draw air into her punished lungs.

  'Now look what you made me do with your stupid fucking behaviour!'

  'I...'

  'Shut up!' he'd screamed into her face the spittle flying from his twisted lips.

  Emma closed her eyes, the minutes stretched out and when she looked up she’d been amazed to find Andrew Forbes asleep head slumped forward hands by his sides. Emma had watched and tried to pluck up the courage to open the car door and make a run for it. It had been over an hour since any car had gone by, the road was long and arrow straight bordered on either side by a low stone wall, the fields beyond were flat and bathed in silver moonlight. Her heart told her to run, though her rational mind warned her that as soon as the door clicked his eyes would snap open. Then he would grab her as she tried to climb free and this time there would be no respite from his hands as they encircled her neck.

  So, she had sat trembling in the dark, listening to the man behind the wheel snore, occasionally his eyes would flutter open and he would look at her with a baleful expression.

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bsp; Eventually he had stirred and stretched his arms behind his head.

  'You know, Emma, there are not many men who would put up with the likes of you,' he turned towards her and frowned. 'You think because you earn the money that you're somehow better than me don't you?'

  'That's ridiculous.'

  'Oh, so I'm ridiculous now am I?'

  Emma had swallowed as she saw his expression darken. 'Look, I've handed my notice in so I don't even have a job anymore...'

  'You've done what?' he screamed as Emma squashed herself against the door in fear.

  'You stupid fucking bitch!' suddenly he turned the key, the engine fired and then he pulled out onto the road. 'Yes well, you'll just have to get another fucking job won't you?'

  'But...'

  'Because I'll tell you this, there is no way you can just walk away. You're with me whether you like it or not!'

  Andrew Forbes had driven around aimlessly; mumbling darkly to himself and throwing her looks laced with fury.

  Eventually he had pulled up in the small lay-by overlooking the reservoirs, climbing out he'd relived himself by the side of the car. She'd watched as he stood looking out over the wild vista, the key had still been in the ignition, Emma licked her lips as she contemplated scrambling over the seats and driving away. Then Andrew had turned and looked at her through the windscreen his eyes narrowing as if he could read her thoughts.

  All that had been hours ago, to Emma it felt like days and now the sky was darkening again and she wondered if she would ever see another sunrise.

  57

  Albie Ross took hold of Sharon Cliff’s elbow and steered her towards the exit of the Rams Head pub. The jukebox in the corner was blasting out some drum and base, the carpet sticky from years of spilled booze.

  Once outside, Sharon shivered as the thin wind whipped around the corner of the building.

  'Fuck me it's freezing!' she hissed.

  'Don't worry, Shaz, I've got something that'll warm you up.'

  'Giz it ere then.'

  Albie ignored her request, crossing the road; he had to hold her up as her legs threatened to give way. 'You're well pissed aren't you, sweetheart?'

  She turned and smiled at him bleary eyed. 'I've had one or two.'

  Albie turned away as he caught a blast of booze and sour breath.

  He'd spent the night wandering around town looking for Sharon Cliff.

  The voice on the phone had been quite specific.

  'I'll be honest with you, Albie, the drug needs refining and that's where you come in.'

  He'd listened as the caller talked mind boggling amounts of money, talked about cutting him a hefty slice if he stuck to the rules.

  'You can trust me,' Albie had said desperate to get in on the ground floor.

  'I sincerely hope so, Albie.'

  Sharon went over on her high heels and Albie grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back to her feet.

  'Almost there, girl,' he said as he virtually dragged her down the street.

  She hiccupped, her short crop top rode up revealing a stomach lined with silver stretch marks. 'So how do you want me to pay for it, blow job do ya?' she asked.

  'Yeah, Shaz, a blow jobs fine.'

  She grinned showing a set of nicotine stained teeth, 'Sorted.'

  When they reached the house, he propped her against the wheelie bin while he fished his keys from his pocket. As soon as he opened the door, Sharon barged past and sighed as she felt the warmth flood over her.

  'It's nice and toasty in here,' she said as she staggered down the hallway and into the lounge.

  Albie slipped his jacket off and tossed it onto the sofa. 'Do you want a beer?' he asked.

  Sharon slumped onto the sofa and nodded. 'Whatever you've got, I don't mind.'

  'Beer it is then,' he said as he wandered into the kitchen - opening the fridge he pulled out a couple of cans and headed back into the living room.

  Sharon looked at him through half closed eyes, peeling back the ring pull he handed the can over before slumping down by her side.

  'So are you gonna skin up or what?' she asked.

  'I told you I've got some new shit that'll mash your brain.'

  'Come on then let's get going,' she said with an eager shine in her eyes.

  'First things first, girl,' he said as he popped the top button on his jeans.

  Sharon shrugged and dipped her head, Albie Ross sighed in contentment.

  58

  Lasser had just stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth when the phone rang, fumbling with the handset he chewed as he pressed the answer button.

  'Is that you, sir?'

  'Susan, what have you got for me?

  'Andrew Forbes, thirty years old, until three days ago he had a joint account with Emma Drake.'

  Lasser wiped his salty fingers on the napkin before taking a drink from the carton of cola. 'What happened three days ago?'

  'Emma Drake transferred all the cash into her own account and closed the joint one down.'

  'Any idea why?'

  'Not really, but I did manage to discover that it's Drake who earns the money.'

  'What, all of it?' Lasser asked in surprise.

  'More or less, Forbes works for a recruitment agency on a commission only basis.'

  'I take it he wasn't pulling up any trees?'

  'Not enough to pay for the rent on a flat priced at three quarters of a million.'

  'Jesus,' Lasser took another sip from the cup.

  'Emma Drake on the other hand has been raking it in.'

  'Have you been in touch with his place of work?'

  'They haven't seen him since last Friday and he hasn't contacted them to say he was ill or anything.'

  The more Lasser heard the less he liked. 'What about the car?'

  'It's a bright red Jaguar leased in Emma Drake's name; I've got the reg if you want it?'

  Lasser pulled out a pen and folded the brown McDonalds bag. 'Let me have it,' he scribbled as she told him the registration. Dropping the pen onto the passenger seat, he clicked the seatbelt into place.

  'Well done, Susan, that's top work.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  'Now, I want you to transfer everything onto the computer base make sure the information gets out there ASAP.'

  'Already done it.'

  'Wonder Woman is alive and well and living in Wigan,' Lasser said with more than a hint of admiration.

  'If I hear anything I'll let you know straight away.'

  'Appreciated,' he said before ending the call.

  Checking the clock on the dashboard, he thought about what Bannister had said about not running home to Medea. 'Sod it,' he snapped before starting the car, he was ten minutes from home he'd take the risk and bugger the consequences.

  The ten-minute journey took twenty as he crawled through the early evening traffic, just as he turned onto the estate his phone began to tweet again, this time Bannister's name flashed on the screen.

  Pulling up to the kerb, he turned off the engine before answering the call.

  'His name is Andrew Forbes.'

  'I know, I've just come off the phone to Susan Coyle.'

  'Right, so how did you go on at Sheldon's place?'

  'Well, as we suspected she hadn't been staying at the house, no toothbrush, the bath lined with dust and bills that were paid months ago. So, I did like you said and called at Crank’s flat.'

  'And?'

  'Same again, the place was a shithole, so I went to see his mother.'

  'Why?'

  'I caught up with Lizzie Rogers and she gave me the name of a woman who used to be close to Sheldon.'

  'I take it you're on route to check it out?'

  'Well, I don't actually have her address yet.'

  'So, where are you now?'

  'On my way back to the station,' he lied.

  Bannister sighed. 'OK, it'll do in the morning, Sergeant.'

  'Right.' Lasser started the car and began to crawl forward.

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nbsp; 'Besides I'm sure you'll want to catch up with Medea and give her the news.'

  'Well yeah, she's been going out of her mind with worry.'

  Bannister paused for a moment. 'Listen, Lasser, this Drake business sounds as if it could be serious.'

  Lasser popped the car into second and turned right at the end of the road. 'You think Forbes has snatched her?'

  'It's looking likely.'

  When he turned into the cul-de-sac Lasser felt his mouth drop open.

  Bannister was parked at the end of his drive standing by the car, watching as Lasser approached. As he pulled up Bannister gave him a small wave, his face neutral which was never a good sign.

  'You're on your way to the station are you, Sergeant?'

  Lasser sighed as he clicked off the phone and opened the door, Bannister jabbed a finger towards him.

  'Lying bastard,' he hissed.

  'Come on, I had to get back here and tell her what was happening.'

  Bannister glared for a few seconds. 'After everything I told you and here you are disobeying a direct order.'

  'I know but you said it seems serious.'

  'I know what I said,' Bannister beeped on the car alarm. 'Now, are you going to put the kettle on...?'

  'Well, isn't Medea in?'

  'God you're a sexist moron aren't you, Lasser?'

  'I didn't mean it like that; I just thought you would have knocked on the door.'

  'For your information I've only just arrived.'

  Lasser smiled apologetically and made his way towards the door with Bannister on his heels.

  'Good news about Elliot, Sergeant.'

  Lasser fished out his keys. 'Oh yeah, what's that?'

  ‘The damage wasn't as bad as we first thought; in fact we should be able to have a word with the knob tomorrow.'

  'Sorted.'

  Then the front door opened and Medea looked out at them, her face pale, her eyes haunted.

  'What is it, what's happened?'

  Lasser sighed. 'We have a name, Med, Andrew Forbes.'

  She looked at them with a blank expression as they moved over the threshold.

  'I've never heard of him.'

  Bannister closed the door. 'I'm not surprised, but we think he's the one responsible for your friend’s disappearance.'

  When the tears slid from her eyes Lasser encircled her in his arms, he could feel the sobs shaking her body.