'I...'
'This isn't bloody Twickenham; you're not kicking the winning penalty in a grand slam!'
'Sorry.'
'Sorry, bloody sorry!' Bannister leapt up and down in blind fury.
Lasser was sure if the stairs had been clear of body parts Bannister would have ran up and throttled him. As it was, he slammed a hand hard against the banister. 'So come on what are you going to throw at me next, an arm, or why don't you try a foot?'
'I said I was sorry,' Lasser mumbled as he headed down the stairs careful not to dislodge any more human flotsam and jetsam.
Bannister turned and grimaced at the head on the floor. 'Moron,' he snapped.
Lasser glanced down at the paper and stopped. 'Fuck me!'
The DCI turned slowly. 'Lasser I won't tell you again, now...'
'It's Harold Bolt.'
'Bolt, how the hell can it be Harold Bolt, he lives miles away from here?'
Lasser held up a hand as he read, Bannister fumed.
'It says Bolt owns this place.'
'Ridiculous!'
For one split second Lasser almost sat down on the step to finish reading and then he remembered what lay between his feet, his stomach flipped, white bone shone up at him, the arm had been severed at elbow and wrist.
'Well, what else does it say? Bannister barked.
'Oh, yeah right. It say's 'I'm saving you the trouble of finding out who the body belongs to. Harold Bolt deserved to die for turning a blind eye, by the way you will find them floating in the sink.' Lasser rubbed at his eyes before continuing. 'He thought he could hide here until all this was over, as you can see he thought wrong. Bolt bought this house for his parents another swindle, another abuse of power. Remember Bannister, I told you my list was long and your resources limited.'
'Fucker!' Bannister screamed. 'Fucking stinking bastard!'
Lasser winced as Bannister drew back his foot; he had visions of his boss kicking the head of Harold Bolt against the wall.
Then suddenly blue lights swirled through the small window of the front door.
Bannister turned and jabbed a finger towards Lasser. 'Bloody idiot!' he bellowed before snatching the door open. 'Black, Wright, get in here now!'
Lasser frowned as he headed down the stairs to find the two officers skidding their way along the glittering path.
'Sorry it took so long, sir, the roads are treacherous.'
Lasser looked over Bannister's shoulder. 'What are you two doing here; I thought I told you to stay at the house?'
Sally grabbed Steve's arm as she nearly slipped to her knees, Bannister sighed heavily.
'It's alright sir, the owners turned up.'
'Owners?'
Black looked at Sally and shrugged. 'Everything was fine sir, we left them clearing up.'
'They?'
'Er, yes sir, the lady and I don't know if it was her husband or boyfriend, but...'
Lasser grabbed Bannister by the shoulder. 'The picture!'
Bannister shrugged him off. 'What bloody picture?'
'Mack, John Mack have you got it?'
Bannister dipped a hand into his pocket. 'Look sergeant...' His eyes bolted wide as Lasser snatched it from his fingers and thrust it towards Sally.
'Is this the man she was with?'
As soon as she laid her eyes on it, she nodded. 'Yes sir, that's him.'
Lasser bolted down the garden path like an errant lover running from an irate husband.
Bannister snatched the photograph from Sally Wright's hand and gave chase.
CHAPTER 144
Carly watched as Redgrove slid the belt from around his waist.
'So you knew Bretherton was back in the area and yet you thought it best to keep that information to yourself?'
Carly was perched on the edge of the sofa, under normal circumstances the sight of the leather belt would have made her skin tingle in anticipation. This time it simply made her feel sick.
'So I take it he was fucking you?' Redgrove asked.
She chewed her bottom lip in fear.
When he lashed out, Carly lunged to the left, the belt whistled through the air and cracked across her forearm. Hitching in a breath, she scuttled away across the sofa. Redgrove snarled, despite his anger the sight of her cowering filled his cock with blood, the power flooded his mind. The second blow snapped onto her hip and she whimpered in pain.
'You really are a filthy whore aren't you Carly?'
'Please, I...'
'I said aren't you Carly!' he lashed out again, grinning with euphoria as the belt snickered around her wrist.
For the first time in years, Carly Hughes felt real shame, not the usual pretence but a burning, goading shame that lacerated her mind more than any belt could ever do. She had no idea if the man could hear no clue as to where he was hiding but she couldn't seem to speak, couldn't get the shaming word out.
Redgrove reached out and grabbed her by the hair, twisting her to her knees. 'Answer me bitch!'
'I..'
'You're a whore aren't you?'
Suddenly bitter anger flared in her mind, rearing into a burning hatred. 'I'm not a whore!' she screamed up at her abuser, suddenly seeing him for what he truly was. The thinning grey hair, the slightly sagging jowls, his watery green eyes bulged in disbelief.
'What did you say?' he asked in a shuddering voice.
Carly snatched at his hand trying to drag it from her hair. 'I said I'm not a whore, not his, not yours, do you understand what I'm telling you, you pathetic man!' Her voice rose taking on a strident quality.
Redgrove felt his hand thrust free, he took a step back in shock.
Suddenly, Carly was on her feet and in his face, she jabbed a finger into his chest, grimacing at the feel of the soft flesh beneath. 'That is the last time you will ever lay a finger on me,' she spat, her eyes lighting up with hatred. 'If you ever try and touch me I'll go to your wife and tell her about the sort of man she's married to.'
Redgrove tried to swipe her hand away but she lunged forward and pushed hard, he staggered back.
'You slut,' he tried to inject venom into his voice, indignation that she had the nerve to threaten him but even to his own ears his voice sounded weak and laboured.
When her open palm slammed across his cheek, he cried out, a high-pitched almost feminine sound that brought a savage smile to Carly's face.
'How do you like it?' her face seemed to balloon towards him and he shuffled backwards suddenly feeling old and weak.
'I...'
Bang! His other cheek began to glow with heated pain.
'You're pathetic do you hear me, pathetic and old and useless,' she spoke the words like a Buddhist reciting a mantra.
Redgrove could feel the walls of his own delusion crumbling around him; the power had never been real, only imagined.
Like the woman before him, he began to see his real self-stripped of all the finery, the reality made his blood boil. 'Bitch!' he screamed and lunged forward, Carly tried to grab him by the throat but he lashed her hands away and grabbed her by the shoulders, his mouth yawned teeth barred like some cornered animal that decides it's kill or be killed time.
Carly staggered back as his teeth snapped close to her cheek, his eyes rabid with fury.
'Kill you for this!' he screeched.
And then suddenly Neil Redgrove took to the air, Carly watched in amazement as he landed on the glass topped coffee table, the legs gave way, glass shattered and Redgrove screamed.
John Mack watched as the man rolled over and blinked up at him. Shards of glass lay scattered on the hardwood floor; Redgrove had a nick across his brow a thin line of blood trickled slowly towards his left eye.
'Are you going to let him get away with that Carly?' Mack asked.
Carly's chest rose and fell, for the first time in an age she felt alive, truly, vibrantly alive.
Redgrove scrabbled backwards and then he screamed as his hand came down on a shard of glass.
'Oh God!' he wailed a
s he held his damaged hand up, blood leaked from the wound running down his wrist to disappear under the cuff of his crisp white shirt.
'He would have killed you Carly and then walked away.'
Carly snapped her head around and looked at Mack in uncertainty.
He nodded. 'You know it's the truth.'
Redgrove never heard the conversation he was locked in a world of self-pity and pain.
When John Mack slid the meat cleaver from inside his long jacket all that changed, suddenly the pain in his hand was washed away and madness swept in to take its place.
Mack pointed the heavy blade directly at Redgrove's face. 'Tell the truth and shame the devil,' he said with a grin.
CHAPTER 145
Lasser wrestled with the wheel, the car slewed sideways and bounced onto the curb.
Bannister dug his feet into the foot well, both hands locked tight on the seatbelt. 'Jesus, man are you trying to kill us both?' he bellowed.
Ignoring him, Lasser flicked the wheel, the car dropped back into the gutter before lunging forward.
'Bloody fool!'
As they approached the junction, Lasser snapped a look right and then they were off again.
Bannister blew out between compressed lips, the photograph of John Mack clenched in his right hand. 'How did you know it was him? He asked.
Lasser was leaning forward in his seat, hunched over the wheel like a demented Quasimodo, his eyes glued to the road ahead. 'Lucky guess,' he said, as the car hurtled along the empty star lit road.
'Don't give me that now come on spill?'
Lasser paused for a moment while he sorted his thoughts. 'Mack must have known about Hughes and Bretherton.'
'And how do you work that out?'
'I think, before he gets the axe out, he questions them...'
'Well he didn't question Philips did he, according to Lucy Croft, the killer came out of nowhere and got busy with the blade.'
Lasser blasted across a narrow junction. 'Yeah, but what we don't know is if Philips was running to get Lucy or...'
'Running from the killer?' Bannister sat up straight like a startled Meer cat.
'Precisely.'
Bannister grunted. 'So in an effort to cling to life Bretherton told him about his relationship with Carly Hughes?'
'That's what I think.'
'But what would be the point?'
A gritter went clattering past on the opposite side of the road, chips of salt sprayed along the bodywork of the Audi. 'All I know is that if somebody was standing over me with an axe then I'd say anything to stay alive.'
Bannister scratched at his chin. 'I get that,' he paused. 'It just seems farfetched.'
'Perhaps Kerrie Fleming was telling the truth about not blabbing to Mack; maybe he's been getting his information from Hughes.'
'You mean they've been working together?' Bannister snorted in disbelief.
'Well Kerrie hasn't worked at the council for over eight months; Carly Hughes is a senior Social Worker she'd be perfectly placed to pass on any information.'
Lasser eased off the gas as he gingerly picked his way around a series of S-bends.
'But she was in a relationship with Bretherton, it might have been twisted and bloody wrong but why would she tell the killer about it in the first place?'
Lasser shrugged. 'Maybe Hughes was forced into it.'
'She hardly looked like a victim in the photograph.' Bannister snorted.
'Yeah well, it was hardly a healthy relationship, something could have happened between them that changed the dynamics.'
Bannister frowned. 'You sound like a bloody shrink.'
'Look, I'm not saying that's what happened, but you have to admit it seems strange, Mack turning up with Carly Hughes and Steve Black said they acted like a couple.'
Bannister looked at the image of John Mack, his face stern as he posed for the camera; he studied the eyes trying to decide if there was madness hiding in the depths. 'Well one thing's for sure, if the killer took the time to hunt Harold Bolt down then he's going to go after Redgrove.'
Lasser glance at his boss. 'So what are you going to do?'
Bannister sighed and reached for his phone. 'As much as I'd like to leave the bastard swinging I suppose I'd better warn him to get down to the cellar and stay there till this is over.'
Lasser concentrated on staying on the road as Bannister jabbed at his iphone.
CHAPTER 146
John Mack slammed his foot down on Redgrove's wrist, the head of Social Services screamed.
'Before Bretherton died we had a long talk, well to be honest, he talked, and I listened.'
Redgrove slapped at Mack's boot with his free hand. 'Please, it hurts,' his face scrunched in pain his eyes wide and glassy with fear.
Mack spun the heavy blade in the palm of his hand. Carly Hughes moved to his side and looked down, her face strangely serine.
'You see Bretherton was the reason I came here in the first place, I came to slaughter him for what he did.'
'I don't know what you're talking about?' Redgrove's right hand continued to leak blood onto the floor his lips tinged blue.
Mack ignored him. 'But you see, after I spoke to Simon Cropper I realised this town had a bigger problem than Clifford Bretherton.'
Glass crunched as Carly shuffled her feet.
'He explained how you ran the place, how you opened the floodgates to let these people in.'
'I had no choice!' Redgrove wailed his legs thrashing as he tried to break free.
The sound of Redgrove's wrist snapping as Mack bore down sounded brittle, the scream that followed bounced off the walls, a wet patch bloomed on the front of his charcoal grey trousers.
Mack waited patiently for the noise to subside. 'I've seen where you live. I didn't notice any paedophiles living next door.'
Redgrove sobbed, the pain sliced through his wrist travelling up his forearm and into his shoulder. 'I...'
'Did you know that Bretherton had a young family living next door, two girls under the age of six and you give them a sex offender for a neighbour?'
'That was nothing to do with me,' Redgrove groaned as Mack lifted his foot from the damaged wrist.
'I know it was Harold Bolt’s job to find them a house, though ultimately, it was you who let them in.'
'But Bolt was told to keep them away from the general public!'
Mack tilted his head. 'And how was he expected to do that in a town this size. I mean did you ever check where he was putting these animals, did you ever bother to go and see for yourself?'
'I...'
'No, you'd sooner play a round of golf at the country club and then give your bloated speeches about how you were saving the council a fortune by streamlining the workforce. You knew people would keep their mouths closed, they were terrified of losing their jobs, and you used that fact to turn the screw.'
'I have a budget to work to!' despite the pain, Redgrove managed to spit out the age-old excuse. 'I did what I thought was best under difficult circumstances. I...'
The blade swept down, Redgrove screwed his eyes closed and screeched as the cleaver bit into the wooden floor, more piss erupted into his pants, and he gasped in fear and relief. When he opened his eyes Mack was standing upright, the blade in his hand dripped blood onto Redgrove's white shirt. He blinked in confusion and then the pain registered in his crammed brain.
Snapping his head to the right, he saw all four fingers of his right hand laid in a neat line as blood sprayed from the stumps. He opened his mouth to scream and Mack pointed the blade towards him.
'Scream and I'll cut off your head.'
Neil Redgrove bit down hard, the tip of his severed tongue rolled down his chin, his eyes were huge and pleading. The scream lodged in his throat like a collection of rusty razor blades.
'Now all that was bad enough,' Mack said, letting the blade fall to his side. 'But you have secrets of your own don't you Neil?'
Redgrove snapped his head from side to side; his eye
s like his lips were in lockdown.
'What are you talking about?' Carly plucked at Mack's sleeve like a small child trying to get an adults attention.
John Mack studied the man on the floor. 'You knew about Bretherton didn't you Neil?'
Suddenly Redgrove's eyes snapped open, tears leaked down his grey cheeks.
'You see Carly, Redgrove here made a deal with Bretherton a kind of quid-pro-quo.'
Carly looked down at Redgrove in confusion before turning her bemused gaze back to the big man with the dripping blade.
'At first neither man knew the other was using you and then Bretherton found out about Redgrove here. I suppose it was you that told him?'
Carly licked her lips and Mack smiled.
'Bretherton couldn't believe his luck; he saw it as a perfect way to add blackmail to his list of wrong-doings.'
'Liar!' Redgrove lurched up and Mack slammed him back down with his boot. Redgrove's head bounced off the floor and he groaned in agony as fresh blood pumped from his ravaged hand.
'So, Bretherton went to see our friend here and let's face it, Neil's used to doing deals. Now by this time Clifford was finding it increasingly difficult to talk, I'd taken off his left foot at the ankle and most of the fingers on either hand.'
Carly gasped in shock, Redgrove moaned in despair.
'Though it's truly amazing the way people will cling to life even when they know it's almost over,' he paused. 'Then of course they reach the point where they're desperate for the pain to end so they will literally tell you anything you want to know. Bretherton knew that Redgrove would agree to anything to stop the truth coming out. But Neil hates to be outwitted that's right isn't it Neil?'
Redgrove couldn't speak his tongue seemed to swell until it filled the whole of his mouth, his breathing hissed in and out through his rapidly shrinking throat.
'You see Bretherton was under investigation, he was suspected of grooming an eight year old girl and Redgrove made sure it all went away, it helps when you have friends in high places doesn't it you piece of shit?'
Redgrove gurgled up at him like a giant terrified infant.
Carly could feel her mind start to disentangle itself, as the tidal wave of filth that filled her mind slowly pushed at the carefully erected barriers.
More Equal Than Others. The DS Lasser series. Volume five: Robin Roughley Page 36
