Brewster snapped his head around. 'Ok, ok, well leave the coppers out of it and print...'
'Not that easy Michael, I mean we have to stay ahead of the game here...'
'Game, this isn't a bloody game!'
Lewis folded his arms. 'You know what I mean, like I said if another body turns up then we'll be all over it like a rash. After all, we're talking about child molesters, people who should have been drowned at birth. But we can't accuse those who are meant to be in charge, at least not yet. When all this is over it'll be a different matter, then we can ask how and why this happened but not now, not yet.'
'I'll go to the Sun,' Brewster snarled.
'That's up to you but you'll get the same response, nobody will touch this Michael, you're asking too much.'
Brewster swept a hand through his hair, in the glory days it would have flowed with vitality, now it simply dropped back onto his shoulders like a clump of damp seaweed.
'What about the TV stations?' he asked, although he already knew the answer to his question.
Lewis shook his head. 'Same thing, besides, you kind of burned your bridges in that area, Michael.'
'Don't spout the obvious you prick!' Brewster snarled.
Lewis eased back in his swivel chair, despite his disappointment at the lack of another body; he was secretly enjoying Brewster's obvious discomfort. 'There's no need to spit out your dummy. Besides, I would imagine your man is busy lining up his next victim, so...'
'Shut the fuck up!' Brewster slammed his hands on the desk. 'If I fail to get this sorted then what's to stop him from coming looking for me?'
Lewis's eyes sprang wide in surprise. 'Has he threatened you?' he asked trying to keep the excitement from his voice.
'Listen to me Lewis; we aren't dealing with a cowboy builder or someone who's nicked the money from the collection tin. This man cuts off heads for fun, he left Wilson's in the shitter, his hands, and feet in the bloody bath tub!'
'Yes, yes, but has he threatened you?' Lewis repeated.
Brewster took a step back from the desk and looked at the man opposite as if truly seeing him for the first time. 'You'd love that wouldn't you?'
Lewis had the good grace to blush. 'Don't be ridiculous...'
'You bastard!'
'Come on think about this, you could have a unique opportunity here, the real inside line on the mind of a killer!'
Suddenly Brewster saw things with startling clarity. If the roles had been reversed then he would be acting exactly the same way, trying to persuade the editor to string the killer along to enjoy the ride into nightmare and beyond.
'I...'
'Come on Michael, grab this chance it's your way back to the top!' Lewis sounded like an old letch trying to entice a child into his car with a bag of sweets.
Brewster took a huge shuddering breath. 'The next time he rings and asks for an update I'll tell him I tried to follow out his orders but this editor called Lewis didn't believe his accusations were important enough to print!'
Lewis sprang forward. 'What?'
Brewster jabbed out a finger. 'Let's see how you react when he comes knocking on your door.'
'You can't do that!' Lewis screamed.
Brewster grinned, the fracture of insanity shone in his eyes. 'Watch me, you officious prick!' With that, he spun around and stormed from the room leaving Shane Lewis sitting in his chair, tie askew, eyes shell shocked as he realised the implications.
CHAPTER 93
As Medea approached the roundabout, she indicated right and switched lanes.
All day she'd been trying to concentrate on her job but her mind had seemed incapable of separating the trauma of the night before and the mundane tasks she was trying to perform.
Now she found herself heading towards Adam's mothers house.
'This is stupid,' she said aloud, though nevertheless she continued on her merry way. Surprisingly the traffic was light, giving her less time to think through the implications of what she was going to say when she reached her destination.
She would ask his mother where he had moved to and then think about paying him a visit.
Half of her mind was still wrestling with the idea that Adam could be so stupid, and she knew the only way to find out for sure would be to look him in the eye and ask him.
Medea slowed down as she scanned the streets on her left, when she saw Cole Avenue she indicated and turned into the narrow road, another left, then a right, and she pulled up outside number seventeen.
Medea looked at the house, it felt like a lifetime since she'd last been here, the front door had been changed and the window frames had been painted dark blue, the driveway had been block paved.
Turning off the car, she chewed her bottom lip in indecision.
'This needs sorting, Medea.'
Lasser's words floated into her mind. He was right but she also felt this was something she needed to sort on her own. Unclipping her seatbelt she pushed open the door and climbed out onto the pavement.
Swinging her bag onto her shoulder, she headed through the gate and up the narrow path.
Ringing the doorbell, Medea stood back and waited, the drive was empty revealing a patch of spilled engine oil, which marred the pale stone blocks.
When the front door swung open she blinked in surprise, Adam Stokes did likewise.
'Medea what are you doing here?'
She watched as he licked his lips, his eyes seemed to flick towards her face before rapidly moving away to glance over her left shoulder. Medea resisted the urge to turn to see if anyone was there.
'This won't take long Adam; I just want to know if you came to my house last night?'
Stokes stood back and opened the door. 'Why don't you come in?'
'I don't think so, this isn't a friendly visit.'
Stokes ran a hand across the back of his neck. 'Is something the matter?'
'Last night someone painted a disgusting word on our front door.'
'Hang on are you accusing me?' Stokes plastered a look of innocence on his face. 'I mean I don't even know where you live anymore.'
'So if you did, then you would have done it, is that what you're saying?'
'Don't be ridiculous, I haven't a clue what you're talking about.'
'It just seems strange that the day after seeing you in town someone defaces the front door.'
Adam cocked a hip and placed his right hand on top of the door, striking a pose. 'To tell you the truth Medea I'm shocked you'd even think it was me.'
'Well let's face it Adam you always were one to bear a grudge.'
'Rubbish,' he said with a half smile. 'Now why don't you come in and I'll make us a coffee, I've got some latte in and it was always your favourite.'
'Yes well there are a few things that I used to like but now find repugnant.'
The smile disappeared from his face. 'So are you still at the old place?'
'Goodbye, Adam.'
'Hang on, you come around here accusing me of God knows what. I mean, maybe you should look at the company you keep I would imagine coppers are always in the firing line.'
Medea turned. 'And why would you think that?'
'Oh come on Medea don't be so naive, coppers make enemies like bees make honey,' he smiled as if pleased with the analogy.
'Yes, well I'm letting you know that you can expect a call from my boyfriend, and he won't be as understanding as me.'
'Is that a threat, Medea?'
She smiled sweetly and turned around.
'You know some people would think only a whore would go near a copper.'
Medea stopped. 'What did you say?'
Adam grinned. 'Does lover boy know he's getting my sloppy seconds?'
Medea took two steps back to the door; Adam looked down at her, the smile still locked in place though his eyes burned with suppressed anger.
'Come on Medea, I mean you have to admit you're scraping the barrel.
The sound of her open palm lashing across his cheek sounded inordinatel
y loud in the still late afternoon air.
Adam stepped back in shock and raised a quivering hand to his glowing cheek.
'Bitch!' he spat and raised his own hand. When the Cleo pulled onto the drive, he lowered it quickly and glowered at Medea.
On her way down the path, she saw Adam's mother looking at her in shock through the windscreen of the blue car.
Lifting a hand in acknowledgment, she smiled and walked calmly back to her car.
'Medea what are you doing here?'
Medea ignored the woman. As she pulled away, she could see Adam watching her from the front door, his face smeared with hatred.
CHAPTER 94
Bannister sat slumped behind his desk, Lasser stood over near the window looking out over the fields. In the distance he could see a tractor ploughing the field ready to plant the springtime rapeseed.
'Do you think Redgrove will go squealing to Mills?' Lasser asked.
'Of course he will, but Mills can kiss my backside if he thinks I'm going to post two officers at Redgrove's front door just so he can sleep easy.'
When a knock came at the door, Bannister sat up straight and pushed the sleeves of his shirt elbow high. 'Come in!'
DI Cooper stuck his head around the door, frowning when he saw Lasser standing by the window with his hands in his pockets.
'Yes John, what can I do for you?'
Cooper slid into the room. 'Just letting you know that Simon Cropper has been brought in for further questioning.'
Bannister nodded. 'Right, what room is he in?'
'Four sir.'
'Good.'
'And Brewster is back at his flat.'
Bannister stretched out his legs and laced his hands across his stomach. 'So what's he been up to?'
'He went to the offices of the Star newspaper, sir.'
'No surprise there then.'
'No sir.'
Bannister stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. 'Right John, I'll be along shortly.'
Cooper threw Lasser a sour look before leaving the room.
'Come on Lasser let's see what Mr Cropper has to say for himself.'
Lasser looked at the clock on the wall, ten past four, he told Medea he would be home by five, six at the latest. It looked as if it would be yet another promise broken.
With a sigh, he followed Bannister out of the room.
Cropper sat in the vomit coloured plastic chair chewing on a fingernail, his eyes looked clear and bright, too bright. Nurse Turner sat by his side like an agitated mother, as Lasser entered the room she scowled and patted Simon's hand in a there, there gesture.
Lasser sat down as Bannister eased in beside him, a friendly smile on his haggard face, Turner's scowl deepened at the sight of it.
'Thank you for coming in to see us Simon,' Bannister said.
Cropper nodded nervously. 'That's alright.'
'You know sergeant Lasser?'
Another nod from Simon followed by a severe tut from the nurse.
'Right. Good. Now I realise this is difficult for you, and I don't want you to think you're here for any other reason other than to help us.'
Cropper frowned. 'I don't know anything about what's going on.'
Bannister's smile grew wider. 'Tell me Simon, do you miss your job?'
Cropper looked surprised by the question. 'Sometimes.'
'And what were your responsibilities when you worked for Social Services?'
Cropper looked at Nurse Turner, she smiled reassuringly, 'it's ok Simon I'm here.'
'I used to think I was making a difference,' he mumbled.
'In what way?' Bannister prompted.
'By making sure the children were safe.'
Lasser leant forward in his chair. 'When you first started working there was it just the children you came into contact with, Simon?'
Cropper licked his lips; his ginger hair stood on end as if hadn't seen a comb in weeks.
'I never wanted to work with,' he paused and grimaced, 'the offenders.'
'So why did you?'
Cropper looked at the grotty polystyrene ceiling tiles and sighed. 'When they started to make cuts we had to take on more case loads. I told them I didn't want to work with those animals,' he spat the words, his face twisted in anguish. 'They disgust me with their filthy minds and hands.'
Bannister eased back in his chair. 'So you wanted work with the children but you had to take on the offenders as well?'
'I didn't mind taking on more children that wasn't an issue for me.'
'But they wouldn't accept that?' Lasser asked.
Cropper shook his head sadly. 'Bolt told me I had no choice, he said if I wasn't prepared to do it then I was no good to the team,' his eyes shone with tears. 'I mean we used to be separate departments, you had those who worked with the offenders and others like me who looked after the victims.'
'And then you had to do both?'
Cropper looked at Lasser and nodded. 'I tried, believe me, I really tried, but you don't know what it was like. One minute you're trying to console an abused child and the next you were having to deal with the perpetrator.'
Nurse Turner sighed.
'Kerrie Fleming said much the same thing,' Lasser said.
Cropper smiled at the mention of her name. 'Kerrie was always stronger than me, she seemed to be able to separate the two.'
'But you found it difficult?'
Another nod. 'I had to listen to these people with their pathetic excuses, trying to tell me it was an illness. I mean, can you imagine? Then you had the others who simply didn't care, they couldn't see that what they were doing was an abomination, to them it was completely natural to take a child and...' His voice drifted to a halt a solitary tear slid from his eye and trickled down his cheek.
'But didn't you explain how you felt to those in charge?'
'I tried to arrange a meeting with Redgrove, but he was always too busy and then when Bolt found out he went ballistic.'
Lasser could feel the waves of anger coming from Bannister matching his own. While Cropper had been suffering, Redgrove had probably been playing yet another round of golf.
'So Bolt threatened you Simon, is that what you're saying?'
A sad smile slithered across Cropper's face. 'He's not that stupid, but over the next few months he made sure that the extra cases that fell on my desk were all for the offenders.'
'So he stopped you working with the kids?' Lasser asked in disbelief.
'No, the work still needed covering and everyone had to pick up the slack, but let's just say I found I had more than my fair share of perverts and paedophiles to contend with.'
'What about your colleagues, Simon, couldn't they help?'
'You have no idea what it was like, everyone was terrified of losing their jobs, and people were stabbing one another in the back.'
'What about Kerrie, she said you were close friends?'
'Kerrie had her own problems.'
Lasser frowned. 'Work related problems?'
Cropper's face closed down as he swiped a hand across his eyes. 'Just problems,' he said in a flat voice.
'Can you remember what happened on the day you attacked,' Bannister paused, 'I'm sorry I don't know the man's name.'
'Steven Barton,' Cropper said.
'Right.'
'I can remember it perfectly.'
'Can you tell us what happened?'
'I hardly think this is relevant.' Nurse Turner piped up.
Cropper ignored her. 'Barton was one of my new cases; he'd spent time in jail for molesting two boys in 2010.'
'Is he a local man?'
'No, he came from Blackpool; he used to work on the fair ground. The police thought there were more victims than the two boys who came forward, but they couldn't prove it. You see Barton was clever, he knew that most of the people who came to Blackpool only came for the day. He used his position of trust; I dare say the boys had no clue about what was happening, they were six and seven years old for God's sake.'
Cropper folded his arms. 'He made them perform oral sex on him and then sent them on their way.'
'So what happened?'
'It was only my third visit but I just knew by looking at him that he didn't care, you could see it in his eyes. You can always tell, it's like they're always watching, always looking for the next victim.'
'And he lived next door to a large family didn't he Simon?' Lasser asked in a quiet voice.
'I made my concerns known to Bolt, I told him this man was dangerous and needed close supervision. I said it was ridiculous moving him next door to the Dootson’s.'
'And how did Bolt respond?' Lasser asked, although he already knew the answer.
'He told me to concentrate on doing my job, he said resources were limited.'
'So he had no intention of doing anything about it?'
Cropper shrugged. 'I couldn't believe it when I went to the house; and he was in the back garden with a four year old girl on his knee.'
'That must have made you angry?'
Cropper began to ring his hands together. 'You see the thing was, he'd been and bought one of those sea shell sandpits, he was planning it all, planning to do it again. I knew no one would listen, no one cared, he knew it and so did I. He smiled at me when I came in through the gate, smiled and then he ran his hand through this little girl's hair and I couldn't stand it. I knew if I left that place without doing something then he would have abused that girl.' He lowered his head as the tear dropped onto the scuffed tabletop.
Lasser felt for the man, in the same position he knew he would have reacted in the same way.
'So what happened next?' Bannister asked with a sigh.
'I remember picking the girl up and taking her back next door, and then I went to find Barton.'
'And what did he have to say?'
'Nothing, I didn't give him the chance, he was sitting in the living room watching children's television.' Cropper leaned forward. 'It was his way of saying I can do what I like and you can't do a thing about it.'
'So you attacked him.'
'Yes, and I would do it again if I had to.'
'I...'
More Equal Than Others. The DS Lasser series. Volume five: Robin Roughley Page 23
