He tried to move his arms and found that he couldn't, his legs were tied at the ankles by nylon ties.
'If you want my advice Michael, you'll keep your eyes closed.'
Brewster screwed his eyes tight, his lips clamped together.
'You see, I haven't decided what to do with you yet but if you see my face then I'll be left with no choice.'
Brewster let the air out slowly through his damaged nose, his head rang with pain.
'Do you agree?'
'Yes,' he hissed.
'Good man. Now I want to know why you failed to get the names onto...'
'I tried,' Michael gasped. 'But that bastard wouldn't print it, he refused and I didn't know what to do!'
'What's his name?'
'Shane Lewis he's the editor of the Star.'
'Did he give you a reason?'
For one terrible moment Brewster almost looked up and then the voice inside screamed 'No!' and he lowered his head in fear. 'He said they'd be sued if they printed it.'
The man sniffed, Brewster listened intently as footsteps moved to his left. 'So you did your best?'
'I swear to God, I begged and pleaded with the bastard but he just laughed!'
'Did he now?'
'I tried to make him understand but he wouldn't listen.'
'And you ignored my call because?'
Brewster could feel his bladder loosen forcing him to clamp his legs together. 'I was terrified of what you might do.'
'Listen to me Michael I realise you probably think I'm insane?'
Brewster opened his mouth to agree and then clamped his lips closed again.
'It's a natural assumption, how can someone do the things I've done and not be completely mad? The truth is I'm as sane as you are, I had a mission to fulfil something that had to be done, can you understand that?'
'I think so,' Brewster mumbled into his chest.
'Now I find myself in a bit of a quandary. You see during my,' he paused, 'investigation, I've discovered that there are people in this town who knew exactly what was going on. They didn't care how many paedophiles moved into the area because it brought in the cash. We live in a world were money rules, and real people, normal people, are ignored.'
'I know.'
'So you agree with me?'
'They're all bastards.' Brewster spat.
'You see that's why I'm so disappointed, if you'd printed the list then these people would have been exposed.'
'I'm so sorry, I...'
'And your failure has left me in a difficult position.'
'Give me another chance, I'll take it somewhere else, I'll...'
'But can I trust you, after all, you said it was no problem the first time around so why should I believe you now?'
Brewster tried to think of a reply but his mind suddenly felt blank. All his working life he'd spouted bullshit, said anything to get his own way. The endless string of women he'd bedded and promised the earth to, only to sneak out in the morning, shoes in hand, a smile of triumph on his face. The colleagues he had won over and then shafted at the first opportunity, an endless parade of lies and tall tales that had led him to this place, bound and counting down the seconds of his life, waiting for the bite of the axe as it split his skull in half. This time there was no holding it, his bladder emptied, warm piss trickled down his legs.
'I'm waiting.'
'I can go to the Sun, they'll print it,' he gasped in desperation.
'So after Lewis refused to print why didn't you go straight around to them?'
'I...'
'You're full of shit aren't you Michael?'
'Please, no, no I can still sort it.'
'Somehow I doubt that.'
Brewster hunched up his shoulders and started to cry.
'Why are you crying?'
'I don't want to die,' the reporter wailed.
'Why, do you have something worth living for?'
Michael Brewster suddenly realised he had no answer.
'No wife, no kids, a career in tatters, so come on you give me a legitimate reason and I'll let you walk away from here.'
Then Brewster heard a sound that took his breath away, the scrape of metal on dry stone, a grating sound that made his heart rear in his chest.
'Come on Michael I'm a busy man, one good reason and we'll see what we can do about letting you live.'
The thoughts swirled around his terrified brain, but he couldn't seem to grasp one, couldn't pluck it from the ether. 'I... He mumbled and then stopped.
'Cat got your tongue?'
Then the thought slammed into Michael's head with such ferocity that he could have screamed aloud in relief. 'I want the chance to get the bastards! He shouted in triumph.
The laughter was deep and easy. 'That's my man and how do you propose you do that?'
As quickly as it had arrived the euphoria vanished.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked back, his head hit the wall and he howled in pain.
'Don't worry Michael you can leave me to do the thinking.'
'Thank you,' he gasped.
CHAPTER 119
Bannister had a cigarette on the go, his cheeks hollowed as he drew hard on the smoke. 'Well that was a waste of time.'
They were parked on the hospital car park the late afternoon sun shone in through the windscreen hot and bright.
'I still don't get why this ‘Mack’ character would come and pay him a visit six months after finishing with the force?' Lasser pondered.
'That bloody nurse gives sod all away.'
'But she's adamant that he never asked about any list.'
'I know what she said, I was there, remember?'
Lasser sighed and slid down the window, smoke was pulled out through the gap.
'Right, we need to get in touch with ex sergeant Mack so we can find out what the bloody hell is going on.' Bannister growled.
'Well Coyle's working on it.'
'So give her a ring for God's sake.'
Lasser dug out his mobile and scrolled down the screen before slapping it to his head.
Bannister dropped the cigarette out of the window.
'Coyle, it's Lasser.'
'No luck sir,' she said despondently. 'I've spoken to a DI Connor in Manchester and he says Mack was a first rate officer, a bit of a rising star...'
'We don't need a character reference woman; we need to track him down,' Bannister bellowed.
Coyle cleared her throat nervously. 'Sorry sir but when he left the job he sold his house and as yet nobody can provide a forwarding address.'
'Bloody great!'
Lasser grimaced and shook his head. 'Keep looking Susan.'
'Will do sir.'
Lasser ended the call. 'So what do you want to do now?'
Bannister fumbled out another smoke. 'What can we do? I mean chances are Mack has sod all to do with it. According to Coyle he was an exceptional officer and I can't see someone like that turning up in this shithole town to bag a few paedophiles for his trophy wall.'
'DI Rimmer was meant to be an exceptional officer.' Lasser reminded him.
Bannister spun around in his seat. 'It's hardly the same thing; Rimmer was a bent bastard not a cold blooded killer.'
'Why don't I go back and have another word with Carly Hughes?'
Banister sighed. 'What's the point?'
'Look, if Turner is telling the truth then Cropper couldn't have handed over the list.'
'I...'
'Which means someone else provided it and maybe Hughes might have some ideas. I mean, she's still working for Social Services, still plugged into the system as Cropper would put it.'
Bannister thought for a moment before nodding. 'Ok, but don't be all day about it.'
Lasser opened the door and climbed out. 'Er, one more thing, is it alright if I come around yours later and catch up with Medea.'
'Good God man you don't need my permission, though I've said it before and I'll say it again, what she sees in you is beyond me. I mean.
..'
Lasser slammed the door and stalked off towards his own car.
Bannister grinned around his cigarette. 'Touchy,' he mumbled before driving away.
CHAPTER 120
'Carly have you got a minute?'
She looked up from a pile of paperwork, Tom Hollander stood in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie askew.
'What can I do for you, Tom?'
Stepping into the tiny office, he dropped a thin blue file onto her desk. 'I've just been to Bolt's office...'
'He isn't in today.'
'So I gathered,' he replied before sitting down. 'Have you heard anything more about what happened at the house?'
Carly placed her pen on the desk. 'Not really.'
'Someone said the victim was nailed to the front porch.'
'Nailed!'
'According to Sam...'
'Yes well you don't want to believe everything you hear.'
Hollander smiled. 'Come on, you know what it's like around here, besides, it's all over the papers.'
'Yes well, let's just wait and see what Harold has to say when he gets back.'
'He could be off for weeks; in fact some are saying he won't be coming back at all.'
'Bolt won't give his job up, I mean how old is he, fifty, fifty five?'
'I'd have said at least sixty.'
Carly smiled, Tom Hollander was in his mid thirties his dark wavy hair swept back from a high forehead, half the women in the department had the hot’s for him.
'So what can I do for you, Tom?' she asked again.
'I've just had Christine Bell from housing on the phone, apparently one of their properties has gone up in flames.'
'So why are they telling us?'
Hollander pointed at the file on the desk. 'Apparently the house was being used by us to house one of the offenders.'
Carly leaned forward and flipped the file open. When she saw the name on the front sheet, the blood drained from her face.
'He was one of mine; in fact, I was due to pay him a visit this week, looks like I won't have to bother now.' Tom said lightly.
Carly Hughes licked her lips, the small office closed in around her. 'What do you mean?' she asked in a quivering voice.
'Well it's not definite yet but Christine reckons the police have found a body inside the building.'
Suddenly Carly leapt to her feet, her chair shot back into the wrought iron radiator with a clang.
Hollander looked at her in surprise. 'Carly are you ok?'
'I feel sick.'
'Don't tell me you risked the canteen food again?'
Snatching her coat from the back of the chair, she headed for the door.
'So what do you want me to do about this?'
Carly didn't reply, her nerves jangled, her chest seemed to tighten until it felt as if a cold clammy hand had grabbed her heart and was squeezing the life out of it.
Hollander spun around in his chair but the door was already closing, Carly Hughes had vanished.
CHAPTER 121
Suzanne took a sip from her glass as Medea placed her knife and fork on the empty plate. After eating, Kelly's phone had rung, it had been one of her girlfriends and apparently, she was in town shopping. Kelly had wolfed down her cheesecake and headed off to hit the shops.
'Go easy on the credit card, Kelly; I don't want a massive bill at the end of the month.'
Kelly had grinned and left without a reply.
The view from the upstairs window showed crowds of people moving up and down Market Street like shoals of fish.
'So have you set a date yet for the wedding?' Suzanne asked.
Medea wiped her lips with a napkin and shook her head. 'Not yet.'
'So you're going for the long engagement?'
Medea smiled. 'There's no rush.'
Suzanne ran a finger around the rim of the glass her bright red nail moving in slow circles.
'And you're sure it's what you want?'
Medea looked across the table in surprise. 'That's an odd question.'
'I don't see the point in beating around the bush, life's too short.'
'Yes I'm sure.'
'You know if I'd been with Alan from day one I don't think I could have stood it.'
Picking up her glass Medea frowned, although Bannister was Kelly's biological father, Suzanne and Alan had only been together for a couple of years. They'd been an item at university but had later split up, and for years Bannister had never known that Kelly existed let alone that he was her father.
'But you're ok now?' Medea asked.
'So far but I keep telling Alan that there's more to life than sitting waiting for him to come home.'
'And what does he say?'
Suzanne shrugged. 'He keeps talking about getting out but I don't want to force him.'
'I'm the same,' Medea said and then felt the blush in her cheeks.
Suzanne raised an eyebrow. 'It's daunting isn't it, thinking how quickly the years fly by and wondering if you're really cut out to be a police officer's wife?'
'Lasser says most of the time he can't stand the job.'
'Alan's the same, he rants and raves about everything and when I tell him to make the change he clams up.'
Medea looked out of the window; late afternoon sunlight bathed the black and white timber shops opposite. Someone walked down the street with a handful of colourful balloons in his grasp. 'I think I can put up with the long hours, it's the not knowing if he's alright that gets to me.'
'Waiting for the phone call or the knock at the door?'
'Lasser claims he's indestructible.'
'They say that for our benefit.'
'So Alan's the same?'
'I think they're all the same.'
Medea lowered her head and looked at the patterned tablecloth. 'Lasser's been having nightmares.'
'About what happened to Cathy Harper?'
'How did..?'
'The first time I met Lasser I thought he was a fool, granted I was out of my mind with worry about Kelly.'
Medea nodded in understanding.
'But I was wrong, in fact I'd say he's too compassionate for the job he does.'
'But that's part of the reason I love him.'
'In any other situation I'd say it was a big tick in the plus box.'
Medea pushed her plate away. 'I think he blames himself for what happened to her.'
'Alan's exactly the same.'
Medea looked at her friend in surprise. 'You mean over what happened to Cathy?'
'Oh yes, he took it very personally.'
'Does Lasser know?'
'I doubt it, I mean can you honestly see those two having a heart to heart?'
Medea smiled at the idea. 'Not really.'
'Obviously it's worse for Lasser because he'd had a relationship with her.'
Lifting her glass Medea took a sip. 'I keep wondering if I should say something.'
'You mean try to get him to seek help?'
'What do you think?'
Suzanne thought for a moment and then shook her head. 'I wouldn't if I were you.'
'You think he might think I'm interfering?'
'Probably.'
A waitress slid between the tables and placed the bill on their table.
Suzanne looked up and smiled. 'Thanks.'
'It's just that the nightmares seem to be getting worse. I worry that he's taking on too much and now all this with the spray painted door and,' she paused, 'you know.'
'Have you had any more thoughts about what happened?'
Medea plucked at the paper napkin. 'Part of me knows it was Adam but there's this sliver of doubt that still tries to cling to the idea that he wouldn't do something so stupid.'
'What was he like when you were together?'
'Arrogant, selfish, opinionated.'
Suzanne raised an eyebrow. 'What about his good points?'
'To be honest he didn't have any, I was young and stupid. I mean, why do we do that, stick with someone when we know
they're total shits?'
'Because we hate the thought we could have been fooled. I mean, no one likes to admit their mistakes, besides as you say you were young.'
'That's no excuse though is it?'
Suzanne slipped her credit card onto the plate. 'I spent over sixteen years with Jonathan and I always knew we shouldn't have been together,' she sighed. 'I should have been with Alan but I settled for second best and that's something I'll always regret.'
'But it turned out fine in the end?'
Suzanne smiled. 'We have our moments.'
The waitress reappeared and picked up the plate before vanishing back towards the small bar.
'So what do you think Lasser will do about Adam?' Medea asked.
Suzanne slid her coat from the back of the chair and shrugged it on. 'Well if he's anything like Alan he'll bide his time and then he'll come down on Adam Stokes like a ton of bricks.'
Medea chewed her bottom lip. 'That's what I'm afraid of.'
Suzanne reached across the table and patted her hand. 'Deep down Medea you know it was him. In many ways you and Lasser are the same, he likes to give people the benefit of the doubt, it drives Alan mad, but it's the way he's made. Though I would imagine once he knows something to be a fact then he can be very,' she paused as she searched for the right word.
'Firm?' Medea offered.
Suzanne stood up. 'I was thinking more vindictive rather than firm.'
Medea swallowed down the panic.
CHAPTER 122
'For God's sake woman stop fussing!'
'But I don't want you to go,' her voice had a whining quality that grated on Neil Redgrove's nerves.
He was standing in front of the huge ornate mirror, the log in the grate smouldered red and black. Fastening his tie, Redgrove glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
'You have two officers at the rear of the house and the same at the front...'
'But what if he comes...'
'Don't be ridiculous woman,' he snapped.
'If I'm being ridiculous then why did you insist on having them here in the first place?'
Redgrove turned towards her his face twisted in contempt. 'A precaution nothing more.'
'But why do you have to go out?'
'I've told you, this evening was arranged months ago, I'm the guest speaker for Gods sake.'
More Equal Than Others. The DS Lasser series. Volume five: Robin Roughley Page 30
