Dark of Mind

by Robin Roughley

  'Let's hope they've caught the bastard.' Frank said, his voice suddenly hard-edged.

  Drawing almost level, Lasser pulled up on the left. 'Stay here while I check it out,' he said before pushing the door open and climbing out.

  Odette and Bannister were side by side on the pavement, Paul Currie was standing back slightly, the big German shepherd sitting by his side, tongue lolling.

  'What's happening?' Lasser asked as he strode towards them.

  Bannister glanced up; his face drawn with fatigue. 'How's the dog?'

  'She'll be fine, the vet's keeping her in overnight just to keep an eye on her,' Lasser explained as he came to a halt and looked down at the dark stains on the pavement.

  'We followed the trail from Frank's, and it ends here,' Odette said as she looked up at Lasser.

  Lasser frowned for a moment and then he sighed. 'He got into a car, didn't he?'

  Bannister grunted. 'The bastard had some kind of help that's for sure.'

  'Which means the voice on the phone has someone else he is using.'

  'Not necessarily,' the DCI said. 'It could have been the man himself who picked him up.'

  'I doubt that,' Odette slipped her hands into her pockets and shivered slightly at the chill in the air.

  Bannister glanced at her, his face sporting the usual scowl. 'Explain your reasoning?'

  Odette thought for a moment answering. 'This is all about control, whoever is behind it has been using Foster to do their dirty work.'

  'You're starting to sound like Lasser here, stating the obvious,' Bannister complained.

  Odette gave him a hard stare and Bannister felt the blush of colour flare in his cheeks. 'OK, OK, I'm sorry for being a dick.'

  Lasser glanced at Paul Currie and saw his eyes widen in surprise at the apology, the big dog looking content by his side, tail swishing on the pavement.

  'Part of the power trip is being able to manipulate people, the last thing this guy would ever do is leave himself open to being caught with Benny Foster, otherwise what would be the point of having someone kill for you in the first place?'

  'I agree with Odette,' Lasser said.

  'I thought you might,' Bannister grumbled

  'Getting someone to kill for you isn't something that can be achieved quickly, this guy could have been working on Foster for weeks, even months, getting inside his head and rewiring his brain, so, like Odette said, this whole thing is about someone with a vendetta and…'

  'Whoa, who said anything about a bloody vendetta? We know that Banks and Marshall had nothing to link them and the woman in the park was another random attack and it's the same with Frank.'

  'Is it really?' Lasser interrupted.

  Bannister's scowl grew ever darker. 'Let me guess, you have another crackpot theory up your sleeve?'

  'Bradley Robbins,' Lasser said and watched as his boss's face curdled ever further.

  Bannister seemed to inflate for a few seconds as if ready to explode and then his shoulders sagged. 'Come on then, let's hear it?'

  'I agree that the first three victims were all random but there is no way we can say the same about Frank.'

  'Of course we can,' Bannister snapped. 'I know what you're thinking, Lasser, Frank knows Pamela Fitzsimmons therefore he is linked to Robbins, but that means bugger all.'

  Lasser paused trying to turn his gut feelings into something concrete, the trouble was he didn't have any proof, nothing tangible to back up his feelings.

  Bannister waited, his right foot tapping on the pavement. 'Look, I can see the link between Frank and Robbins but only in the fact that they both know Pamela Fitzsimmons, apart from that there's nothing.'

  'But the first two attacks took place in the town centre and we know that Foster was responsible for the assault on Julie Chantry in the park, but he hadn't been sent there to deliberately attack her,' Odette said. 'We have him on the phone, and he was just sitting there minding his own business, it was Chantry who approached him and started being abusive.'

  Bannister glanced across the road in time to see the curtains twitch in the house opposite, an elderly woman briefly appeared and then the curtains were snatched closed again. 'What are you saying exactly?' he asked as he turned back to Odette.

  Lasser tried to pick up on Odette's thought but found that he couldn't join the dots.

  'Look, we know that Foster left his home early this morning, right?'

  Bannister nodded. 'Go on, I'm all ears.'

  'Well, if we go on the premise that Foster was being told where to go then whoever is manipulating him brought him to Hindley, but why do that, why not stick to the town centre?'

  'Perhaps because this prick – whoever he is – knew that we would be out in force in the town centre,' Bannister fired back.

  'OK, so why didn't he order Foster to attack some random victim in Hindley?'

  'How the hell should I know,' Bannister replied.

  'The acid attack took place on Saturday night; the town centre was heaving; it was the same with the murder of Mitchell Banks – broad daylight in the park – so whoever is behind all this doesn't care about Foster in the slightest.'

  'We know that, Odette, but…'

  'So why drag Foster five miles away and have him target Frank?'

  Bannister could feel the frustration growing inside. 'That's what we are trying to find out,' his voice rose slightly, his cheeks burning a deeper shade of red.

  'Plus, the manipulator must have had someone else close by watching it all, because Foster vanished right here,' Lasser spoke up.

  Bannister shook his head. 'Again, we don't know that.'

  'Of course we do, the dog led you here and this is where the bloodstain ends, so Foster got into a car and…'

  'I know that, but you can't simply assume this prick sent another nutter to pick Foster up,' Bannister snapped.

  'But there's no way this guy would let Foster see him, it would undermine everything and…'

  'Not if the manipulator intends to kill Foster, you muppet,' Bannister said, his eyes now narrowed.

  Lasser closed his mouth with an audible clack as he realised that the DCI was right, even Odette looked shocked at the words.

  'I agree that whoever is behind this cares nothing for Foster, if he told Foster to get in the car then he would do it without question, I mean, he could already be dead for all we know.'

  The three of them fell silent, the only sound being that of the dog panting lightly.

  'Shit,' Lasser mumbled.

  'Precisely,' Bannister replied with a sigh.

  68

  'Why didn't you answer the phone?' the voice demanded.

  Zero paused for a moment before answering. 'I'm sorry I was driving.'

  'That's a pathetic excuse and one that I won't tolerate, now tell me where you are?'

  Benny Foster cringed at the anger in the master's voice.

  'Parked in a lay-by close to Haigh Hall.'

  'Is Foster with you?'

  'He is.'

  'Put me on loudspeaker, I have questions that need answering.'

  'The loudspeaker is already on,' Zero replied calmly.

  'Good. Now tell me you completed the task I set you?' the voice demanded.

  Benny Foster felt yet more hot tears fill his bewildered gaze. 'I'm sorry but there was a dog and it bit my ankle and…'

  'I DON'T CARE!' the scream echoed around the inside of the car and Foster yelped in terror.

  'Please, Master, I can explain, I…'

  'I saved your pathetic life; I gave you a reason to carry on and yet you fail me like this!'

  Foster started to cry again, the man behind the wheel looked away through the side window, his lips drawn in a narrow line, his eyes mere slits as the voice continued to rant.

  'You're worthless, it's little wonder you wanted to end your sad little life, and even when I offer you salvation you don't have the willpower or brains to grab it with both hands.'

  'But my ankle is bleeding, and it hurts so muc
h,' Foster whimpered, sounding like a small child angling for sympathy.

  'Do you think I care about that; do you think I care about YOU?' the voice screeched.

  Zero could hear malice in every word, the caller sounding out of breath with rage, the madness ringing out loud and clear.

  Foster lowered his head in shock, his slack mouth hanging open, a sliver of drool dangling from his bottom lip.

  'Do you know why I had you picked up from the side of the road?'

  Foster sniffed and swallowed. 'To save me?' he whispered.

  The voice on the phone suddenly shrieked with cracked laughter. 'My God, what a retard you are. The man who picked you up is a new and improved version of you, brighter, stronger and eager to follow my demands. Isn't that correct Zero?'

  'Yes,' Zero replied in a deadpan voice as he turned slowly to face Benny Foster.

  'He assures me that there is nothing he will not do for me, he's been watching you and I told him to do that because I know how worthless you are, how you would fail me.'

  'I never meant to fail you, Master, I…'

  'I told him to pick you up and take you somewhere quiet, and can you guess why?'

  Foster tried to think but nothing made sense anymore, his brain was awash with the things he had done and the things he had failed to complete, yet through it all were the two constants, his mother wagging a thick, sausage-like finger, her fat lips tutting in disappointment, and Mr Banks staggering back, the gash in his throat spraying blood in a red rain onto the ground.

  'I'm waiting for an answer, you worm!'

  Benny jerked in the seat yet still he remained clueless as the sweat lathered his brow. 'I don't know,' he whimpered.

  'Well, let me enlighten you, Zero was sent to kill you, sent to give you what you have wanted for so long, but I can promise you it won't be an easy death, it will painful and you will scream and beg and suddenly you will realise that life is precious, you piece of shit.'

  Foster listened with a mounting sense of horror as his mind at last cleared and he saw the truth of who he was and what he allowed himself to become.

  Turning his head, he looked at the man behind the wheel. 'You're here to kill me?' he whispered.

  Zero didn't move a muscle.

  'Don't ask him!' the voice screamed again. 'I am the one in control, it's me who has your sad little life in his hands.'

  For the first time Foster ignored the voice. 'He made me do bad things, terrible things, I wasn't always like this, I just wanted something in my life something to make me feel alive and…'

  'Silence!'

  'I loved my mother, but she was so fat, and she wouldn't even try to help herself,' Foster continued.

  'I said SILENCE!' the man's voice was shrill and grating, his breathing laboured as he went into meltdown.

  'I just wanted someone to notice me, but I know now that all of this was wrong, I killed Mr Banks and he didn't deserve that, he…'

  'Kill him, kill him now!'

  Zero said nothing as he stabbed a finger at the screen, ending the call.

  Benny Foster swallowed the sense of terror as the sudden silence left a ringing in his ears.

  'I know he wants you to hurt me bad and I deserve it, I know I do, but please make it quick,' he pleaded.

  The man named Zero smiled as he unclicked the seat belt.

  Benny Foster waited to die.

  69

  Lasser cracked a yawn as he pulled away from the front of Frank's house and drove along the road, his mind still trying to piece together the whole sorry mess.

  No matter how he tried to square things he couldn't get past the image of Bradley Robbins with his thin weasel face and the sly look in his eyes. He could see him sitting in Doctor Philips's office at the unit in Leigh playing them all for fools as, with a slight smirk on his face, he answered the questions levelled at him. The truth was he had been ready for everything they threw at him, and Lasser had felt the anger and despair grow inside as he realised that Robbins had planned the whole thing, brainwashing Pamela Fitzsimmons, turning her into a walking time bomb as she was sent out into the world with nothing but hatred in her mind – planted there by Robbins.

  Now, someone had sent Benny Foster on a similar rampage and the fact that Frank had been targeted only reinforced Lasser's opinion that once again Robbins was the instigator, the manipulator behind it all.

  Reaching Hindley town centre, he took a left and drove along Ladies Lane, zig-zagging through the traffic calming measures designed to slow the idiots down when all it had done was turn it into a challenge for the youths to see how fast they could negotiate it.

  When his phone rang, he tapped at the screen before slotting it into the holder.

  'I told myself I would never check up on you at work, but I just want to make sure you're OK?' Jackie asked.

  As always, Lasser smiled at the sound of her voice. 'Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't called but it's been one of those days.'

  'Grim?'

  'You could say that,' he answered as the road straightened out and he increased his speed.

  'Well, I just wanted you to know I cooked a casserole and it's in the oven, I've had a bath and I'm heading for bed.'

  Lasser glanced at the dashboard clock, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the time. 'I didn't realise it was so late.'

  'I guessed you'd lost track of the time, but I'm up early in the morning, I'm heading over to the Hall to take some pictures of the place then I can show them to the board, and they can decide which one they want me to paint.'

  'No problem, well I can sleep on the sofa when I get back and…'

  'Don't you dare,' she warned. 'I don't want bad habits like that starting, besides I sleep better when you're beside me.'

  'Same here,' Lasser agreed with a smile.

  'OK, that's sorted, so I'll catch you later.'

  'Love you,' he said.

  'Love you too,' she replied before ending the call.

  With one hand on the wheel, he pulled the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, grimacing at the image of the man on the slab emblazoned on the box as he pulled one out and lit up.

  Then he thought about what Bannister had said, that perhaps it was the manipulator himself who had picked Foster up from the side of the road, if that were the case then chances were Benny Foster was as good as dead.

  Reaching the junction, he automatically turned left and went quickly through the gears.

  Odette had said that before all this started Foster had been using suicide sites, though there had been no actual trail to follow, no conversations to trace.

  Lasser sighed and shook his head, suicide sites – the whole thing seemed macabre, in the past if someone was suicidal then they tried to take their own life with as little fuss as possible, now it seemed that ending your life was something to be discussed and mulled over on social media and in some cases even encouraged.

  He felt the anger flicker inside as he tried to fathom how someone could actually push another human being over the edge, no doubt they would do it under the guise of helping an individual end their life in a pain-free way, but how many were doing it for their own sadistic pleasure.

  He thought of Foster and wondered how he had been brainwashed into committing murder.

  Another junction appeared out of the gloom and he slowed to a stop, left for the barge and a warm bed with Jackie by his side, right for…

  Lasser turned right.

  70

  Bannister's scowl darkened as Suzanne told him about Faith's father finding out about her pregnancy and going completely off the rails.

  They were sitting together on the large cream sofa, his feet plonked on the coffee table, a strawberry-scented candle burning in the windowsill.

  'So basically, he threw his toys out of the pram and called her all the names under the sun?' he asked.

  'That's about the size of it.'

  'No wonder the girl is in bits,' he said with a sad shake of his head. 'Where is she now?'


  'Upstairs with Kelly and Belle.'

  Bannister rubbed at his tired eyes and yawned. 'Well, I suppose the one good thing is that it's all out in the open now.'

  'And you see that as a good thing, do you?' she asked, tilting her head slightly.

  'Look, Sue, I'll try and help in any way I can, within reason, but now she can reach a decision without having to keep anything secret.'

  'Her father is demanding she gets rid of the baby,' she watched as his face morphed from concern to anger in a millisecond.

  'That's her choice to make, not his.'

  'I agree completely, but what if he forces her into a corner and she does it just to try and please him?'

  'And then spends the rest of her life regretting it?'

  Suzanne nodded as she leaned against him. 'Anyway, what sort of day have you had?'

  'Shite as usual,' he replied, slipping an arm around her. 'Does Faith know she's welcome to stay here until she feels more settled?'

  'You're a softie, aren't you?'

  'Don't spread it around, I have an image to protect,' he said with a tired grin.

  'Your secret is safe with me,' she kissed his cheek. 'You need a shave.'

  'They call it designer stubble.'

  'I call it itchy, so go and have a bath and shave and I'll make something to eat and we can have a picnic on the bed.'

  'Do we have any savoury eggs?'

  'Two.'

  'Grand,' he said as he rose to his feet.

  She watched him walk from the room and then looked towards the window, the candle burning bright, her expression pensive.

  71

  Medea's eyes widened when Lasser walked into the lounge with Patrick by his side.

  'Lasser!' she said, leaping to her feet and giving him a hug.

  'Hi, Medea, you're looking well.' he remarked as she smiled up at him, her eyes bright with affection. 'Motherhood suits you.'

  'Well, the lack of sleep doesn't,' she replied before kissing his cheek.

  'I take it Ella's asleep?' he asked.

  'Yes, and hopefully she'll stay that way until morning,' Medea answered as she stepped back.