‘What shall I do with the woman?’
‘Take her with you, after all Charlie thinks you grabbed me whilst I was trying to take care of loose ends.’
‘Is that what I am, a loose end?’ Tammy looked at him, a slight sneer curling the side of her mouth.
‘Absolutely not, I made you a promise and I always keep them, don’t I, Seth?’
Barker nodded reluctantly. ‘He’s a man of his word.’
Plymouth beamed and pushed open the car door. ‘Try and keep the fat Scotsman talking, Seth, give me a chance to have a look around the place.’
With that, he set off down the street, Barker climbed from the back and slid into the driver’s seat.
‘Just get us away from here,’ she hissed at him.
‘Sorry, no can do.’
‘But...’
‘No arguing, sweetheart, we do exactly as he says.’
Tammy glared at him and then snapped her seat belt off, before grabbing for the handle. ‘I want to go...’
Seth reached across and grabbed her arm. ‘Listen to me, lady, if he’s promised that you won’t be harmed then listen to him, because if you try to run he will catch you and...’
‘And what!’ her anger suddenly broke free of the shackles. ‘Kill me, is that what you’re saying because right now I couldn’t give a damn!’
Seth shook his head. ‘If only it were that simple.’
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
Every ten yards there seemed to be another side street that he had to drive down, another dead end. Lasser did a three-point turn and headed back to the main drag, every building was either closed for the night or boarded up for eternity.
Turning right he travelled another few feet then turned left onto another side road, Jesus, this would take all night.
Seth pulled around the corner, there was no sign of Plymouth, it was as if he had simply vanished, melted into the snow. He kept glancing down the side streets, when he saw the only unit that a light in the window he eased off the gas. Double gates had been left open; he could see the familiar bulk of Munroe’s Range Rover parked in the shadow of the building.
Lasser ran to the phone box and cursed when he saw the handset had been demolished, a few bare wires dangling an overpowering stench of stale urine wafted out to meet him.
Slamming the door, he ran back to the car, his feet slithering on the thick ice, all he seemed to have done these last few day was chase people who had given him the slip and the one that he had managed to catch had walked free with a sneer on his face.
As he reached the car door he slipped, one arm thrown out for balance, he tried to grab the top of the door and missed, a second later he was flat on his back, the breath wrenched from his body. Tiredness washed over him and he had a sudden urge to just close his eyes and go to sleep. After all, it felt quite warm at ground level, thick snow cushioned his head and the sky was alight with stars, beautiful really. Twisting his head, he saw the tail end of the Mercedes as it pulled across the road and disappeared from view.
Seth drove up a short ramp and pulled up onto the car park.
‘What do we do now?’ she asked.
It was dark under the metal canopy; Barker could make out two stacks of broken pallets pushed up to a chain link fence, the rest of the yard was lost to the shadows. ‘You wait here, while I go and find Munroe...’
‘I want to come with you.’
‘I don’t think that’s wise, love.’
A large sliding door built into the wall of the workshop began to judder open, light spilled out to meet them. Seth looked on in surprise as Steve Corr stood in the doorway, a smile on his bland face; he waved a hand, beckoning Seth forward. Dropping the car into gear, he drove into the unit and parked up.
‘Don’t say anything about Plymouth,’ Seth hissed.
Tammy didn’t reply.
CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
Lasser abandoned the car and shuffled along the pavement, he could see light shining from behind a set of industrial blinds, steam blasting forth from a heating duct on the wall. Flicking up his collar, he walked past the open gates and glanced inside, he could see the tyre tracks leading up the ramp and then ending at the shutter door, a Range Rover was parked at the far end of the yard.
Looking over his shoulder, he crouched and hurried through the gates. Making his way toward the door, he could see a crack of light beneath. At least he had the right place, the question was what to do next? Easing his way forward, Lasser strained to listen, but he could hear nothing except the steady drone of the heater fan above his head.
Keeping to the shadows, he hurried to the edge of the building and slid around the side, dog wood bushes grew tall along the boundary fence, branches clattering together in the stiff wind. As he moved along the wall, a security light flashed on pinning him to the wall, like a butterfly staked to a collector’s board.
Crouching low, Lasser darted forward, keeping tight to the wall, ploughing through the snow that had drifted against it almost a foot deep in some places. The cold was like a distant memory as sweat broke out on his skin. When he came to the solitary door he grabbed the handle and twisted, to his surprise he heard a metallic click. The security light blinked off, plunging him back into darkness. Wiping the moisture from his forehead, he pulled open the door and peered into the darkened office
Drawing in a shuddering breath, he moved over the threshold and slipped into the room, pausing to allow his eyes time to adjust to the darkness. A rack of filing cabinets on the left emerged from the gloom and a small table stood in the centre of the room. The top littered with empty plastic cups covered in cobwebs, a stack of floor tiles placed on top. On the wall hung a calendar showing a dark haired girl smiling with her tits out. Unzipping his jacket, Lasser fished out the small Maglite and headed across the room, easing open the door he stepped out into a long corridor.
Tammy tried to think if she had ever seen a bigger man. As he waddled out of the doorway and headed towards the car, he seemed to balloon in size as if he was somehow absorbing the air around him. His hair was a sickly sandy colour and he had a tartan scarf wrapped around his neck, his jacket hanging open revealing a stomach that heaved over the top of his trousers like a wave cresting some defensive wall.
‘Stay inside the car and don’t move unless I tell you to.’
She nodded as Barker opened the door and climbed out.
‘Who’s the woman?’ Munroe nodded toward the car.
‘Green’s sister.’
Munroe leaned over and peered in through the windscreen, as if observing some rare animal at the zoo. Tammy felt her skin crawl.
‘And why have you brought her here?’
‘I told you, Charlie, when I snatched Plymouth she was in the house, so what could I do? If I’d left her she would have been onto the filth.’
Munroe pursed his lips and then shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘Well done, Seth,’ he clapped a hand onto his shoulder, huge moon face breaking into a wide grin. ‘Maybe this is the push that Green needs.’
Barker kept his lips clamped together; at this point, any conversation seemed pointless.
With his free hand, Munroe jangled some loose change in his pocket, his eyes bright with excitement. ‘Now let’s see what you’ve brought me.’
Seth swallowed, his eyes darting around the workshop, one wall taken up by a long metal bench, a small office space partitioned off to the right and an inspection pit took up the middle of the floor. At one time, this place must have been a garage workshop; he could see three forty gallon drums with the name Shell oil stencilled on the side.
‘Corr, do the honours.’ Munroe kept his hand clamped on Seth’s shoulder, the fingers digging into the muscle.
Corr stepped forward and moved to the rear of the car, and then stood looking down at the boot as if awaiting further instruction.
‘Well, get on with it.’
‘I can’t see a button to press, boss.’
Munroe shook his head in disbelie
f. ‘Well, get the key from the ignition, you dumb prick.’
It was like watching a light bulb come on a ‘eureka’ moment as the penny dropped. ‘Ah, yeah, right.’
When he opened the door and leaned in, he looked at Tammy and grinned. ‘I hope we get to have some fun, bitch,’ he grabbed the key and she watched with terror-stricken eyes as he walked back to the boot.
She was going to die here, tonight; the thought came into her mind and lodged there, like a fishhook. There had been times in the past when Jimmy had been beating her that she had wanted to die; the pain and humiliation had been too much. Her days had been spent waiting for the next round of mental and physical torture to begin, a merry-go-round of fear.
Over the last couple of days as the truth about her brothers had emerged, she had not cared what happened to her. Now, as the realisation dawned, she found a spark inside that wanted to live, wanted to start anew, somewhere away from this town in a place where no one knew her. However, what she wanted was irrelevant and worst of all looking at Munroe she could see her brother standing there. Something about the look on his face, the way he seemed so sure of himself reminded her of Callum, the arrogance in his eyes and the sneer on his mouth, it was like looking at a carbon copy, a doppelganger. How many times had her brother been the one standing in some filthy lockup while he dished out his own form of punishment to someone weak and vulnerable.
She heard the click from the rear of the car and spun around in the seat, her eyes wide and frantic, Corr disappeared from view as the boot opened and Tammy held her breath.
She heard a thin rustling sound, followed by a heavy grunt and then the big man reappeared in the side window, his eyes bulging, a hand plucking at something on his shoulder. As he fell his face hit the side window squealing across the glass like fingernails drawn down a blackboard. When the blood started to spray, Tammy began to scream.
For a couple of seconds, Munroe appeared confused, he saw the boot open and smiled, this was going to be good, he had all night to work on Plymouth and he was sure he could find some handy implements to make the pain last longer. When Corr staggered around the side of the car, he was still baffled. However, when he saw the handle of the screwdriver sticking out from his neck, he suddenly saw the bigger picture. With a snarl he turned to Barker, his fingers biting deep into the flesh. Seth grimaced and lashed out, his fist slamming into Munroe’s cheek; it felt as if he was hitting a memory foam mattress.
Plymouth leapt from the boot like a crazed Jack-in-a-box the familiar smile stuck fast to his face. Slamming the boot closed, he watched over the top of the car as Munroe staggered to one side, it appeared as if his jowls were still reverberating from Barkers fist.
When Munroe heard the sound of laughter, he snapped his head around and glared at the white haired man who had his hands resting on the roof of the car, head thrown back like a dog howling at the moon, the sound of merriment ringing around the room.
When he lowered his head, tears ran down from his eyes, his shoulders still hiccupping with amusement. Plymouth walked around the side of the car and opened the passenger door.
‘Come on, Tammy, let me introduce you,’ he held out a hand and she shuffled across the seat. ‘Don’t you want to meet the man responsible for all this?’ He looked at her quizzically. ‘I promise he won’t bite.’ Then he was laughing again, huge jaw-breaking guffaws that somehow scared her more than any of Jimmy’s beatings.
Lasser dashed down the dim corridor toward the screaming, a hand trailing along the wall for balance. When he reached the door, he swallowed and grabbed the handle. Then someone hit him hard from behind, lifting him from his feet and slamming him into the door, which sprang open and bounced back on its hinges. Lasser saw it coming and twisted, throwing up an arm to cover his face, the door slammed into him and he heard a heavy grunt in his ear. The bastard had him gripped tight around the waist; he threw back his elbow and felt the satisfying thud as it connected with something soft. He felt the grip loosen and then he crashed to the ground, with the assailant clinging to his back, an arm strapped around his neck and suddenly it was like trying to breath underwater. Lasser attempted to buck him off, but the weight bore down on him, he heard a dull thudding in his ears, he was aware only that the screaming had stopped. Everything seemed to slow down as the pressure increased; he slapped the floor with the palm of one hand and fell forward.
Fuck me, this is it, an image of Cathy clicked to the front of his brain, he wished he could have made it up to her, wished he wasn’t such a fucking idiot, wished....
Seth Barker had never seen anyone move so fast, one minute Plymouth had been standing by the passenger door the next he appeared to be at the other side of the room like some kind of magic trick, ‘ta-da,’ the illusionist is back in town.
Barker had watched in dismay as the two bodies came hurtling through the door, still trying to understand how Plymouth had emerged from the car. They had dropped him on the corner, watched as he disappeared from view. Then he remembered parking beneath the canopy, how dark the yard had been, the bastard must have followed and somehow slithered back into the boot while they were waiting for Corr to open the sliding door.
He thought he recognised the one on top, he’d seen him with Munroe though he couldn’t remember exactly where. Then Plymouth had reached down and when Seth saw the arc of blood spraying high into the air he had looked away with a grimace to find Munroe running for the door. In any other situation the sight would have been ludicrous, the big man lumbered from side to side like a huge balloon filled with toxic waste.
‘Race you, Charlie!’
Seth turned to find Plymouth jogging across the room, the way a father will chase his toddler son, hunched over, pretending to run but in reality holding back.
Munroe threw a stricken look over his shoulder. ‘Get away from me,’ he shrieked and suddenly lost his balance. His short arms shot out to try to cushion the blow but at almost thirty stone it was never going to be anything more than a token gesture. His legs became entangled, the inspection pit yawned and Munroe screamed. It was difficult to comprehend that such a high-pitched squeal could come from a body so huge. He disappeared headfirst; his trunk like legs shot in to the air, the sound he made when he hit the floor was surprisingly low key.
Plymouth stood on the edge of the pit and looked down in disappointment, for once the ratchet smile had vanished.
Tammy scrambled from the car; both hands grabbing at her hair. Seth wiped a hand across his head. He eyed the door and tried to weigh up his chances of escape. Why bother, a voice in his head whispered, you’ve come this far, see how it pans out.
Lasser felt a thud in his ribs and twisted his head, the body at his side, he kicked again but this time there was no power behind the thrashing limbs just a kind of dumb automation. When he saw the bloody crease running between the man’s eyes he swallowed. It was as if his skull had been gripped on either side by some terrible force that had squeezed until the head had crumpled in on itself. He blinked and looked across the room, Plymouth was standing over a hole in the ground his head tilted to one side, the black Mercedes dripped melting snow onto the grimy floor.
Suddenly, the dull throbbing behind his eyes expanded, he could see dust motes swirling in the air, smell the sticky sent of old oil and spilled diesel and then the dark descended.
CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN
Lasser looked at the blank television screen, seeing his own reflection glaring back at him. For the past week, he’d been trying to sort things out in his head but it seemed that every time he tried to concentrate his mind would blow a fuse. According to the hospital it was to be expected, concussion could often leave the victim feeling confused and vulnerable.
He had no recollection of raising the alarm; apparently, he’d walked to the all-night garage and told them to ring the police. When they turned up, he had been back at the factory sitting on the front step in six inches of snow.
He could recall seeing Plymouth standing over
the pit in the ground and he had the impression that someone had been hovering at the side of the black car, but that was about it.
Plucking the can of lager from the floor, he took a sip and grimaced. Munroe had been found at the bottom of the inspection pit, neck broken, which was hardly surprising with almost thirty stone behind it, the neck had never stood a chance. They were still waiting for the identities of the other two stiffs found at the scene, but Bannister seemed confident.
He had dragged Lasser from his sick bed and tried to get to the truth of what had happened.
‘The body in the cellar was Miller and we can prove that Green and probably Speel tortured him until his heart packed in.’
‘I’m surprised Green didn’t say the butler did it.’ Lasser had replied as he scratched at the nicotine patch on his arm.
A flicker of a smile had passed over Bannister’s face. ‘He asks to see the sister every day but she won’t go near him.’
Lasser had looked out of the window of Bannister’s office, the snow was slowly vanishing, the view outside looked drab and washed out. ‘I suppose it’s hard when you discover your brother isn’t the clean cut businessman you always thought him to be.’
‘She’s talking about selling the house and moving from the area.’
‘So, as far as we’re concerned she’s innocent?’
‘God knows, but we can’t find any evidence that links her with Callum’s colourful past.’
‘What about Plymouth, I mean, do we know if he took her from the house?’
‘No comment, that’s all we get from her. Since Walker became her brief I can’t see her saying anything different.’
Typical, even though Tammy Green was refusing to see her brother, he would make sure she had access to the slimiest lawyer in town.
‘One piece of good news, when Rimmer’s fit enough he’ll stand trial, we found a payment of five grand that he can’t account for and Green has told us that he was the one who told him about Miller and Munroe so it’s a start.’
The Way That It Falls: DS Lasser series volume 2 (The DS Lasser series.) Page 33