Dark of Mind

by Robin Roughley

  He watched as she slid from the bed and shrugged into the bathrobe.

  'Hot chocolate coming up,' she said with a half-smile as she left the room.

  Taking another drag on the cigarette, Lasser flopped back onto the bed, his eyes fixed on the low ceiling of the boat, his heart still jackhammering in his chest.

  101

  Stone glanced at the woman as he drove along the deserted road, the white lines stretching out into the darkness.

  'Are you OK?' he asked.

  Livy looked at him, her eyes still laced with an amalgamation of shock and fury. 'Who are you?' she asked as she rubbed at her tender neck.

  'My name's Stone, I was passing, and I heard screaming and shouting coming from the house, so I thought I'd better check it out.'

  'Well, thank God you did otherwise that bastard would have killed me.'

  Indicating, he pulled up at the side of the road and lifted the handbrake. 'Is the guy your husband?' he asked.

  Livy ran a hand through her long hair and grimaced when a few strands came loose. 'Boyfriend, but not anymore,' she replied, letting the fury crackle through her mind.

  'Has he hit you before?'

  'To be honest, no, but these last few days he's changed.'

  'Why?' Stone asked, his eyes fixed on her face.

  She gave a slight shrug before taking a deep breath. 'Family problems.'

  'I was at the house earlier and I saw him slap a young woman.'

  Livy's eyes widened with surprise. 'What do you mean?'

  By the time he had finished telling her about John attacking Faith, Livy Sharp could feel the dark glee bubbling beneath the surface, mixing with the shock and anger that trembled through her body.

  'Her name is Faith, she's John's daughter and she's pregnant.'

  'I take it he doesn't want to be a grandad then,' Stone said and then grimaced at the flippant remark.

  Livy looked at him for a couple of seconds unsure if he was being sarcastic and then shook her head. 'Believe me, all he sees is how much she's let him down.'

  'I doubt there's ever a right time to get pregnant,' he paused, 'but it's still a gift, something to be cherished.'

  Livy felt the disagreement forming on her lips and then closed her mouth, deciding that now was not the time to contradict the stranger.

  'John is only interested in material things, he has no time for sentimentality.'

  'So, he's a fool then,' Stone said as the headlights cut into the darkness.

  'He's unhinged, I know that much,' she replied as she continued to rub at her tender throat.

  'How long have you two been together?'

  'Less than a year, at first he was a really nice guy, but men always change, they pretend to be one thing until they have you just where they want you and then they show their true colours.'

  'Wow, with a comment like that you must have been burned in the past?' he saw the sharp look flash in her eyes and then she folded her hands in her lap and looked out into the darkness.

  'The trouble is I always seem to fall for their lies,' she said and closed her eyes squeezing a single tear free.

  Behind closed lids she pictured the man behind the wheel, he was a good-looking guy but then again as far as she was concerned that meant nothing. Though he had made the effort to check out the screams and the truth was if he hadn't intervened then she could well be dead by now. She shivered as she swallowed, feeling the tenderness in her throat from where John Hinton had tried to throttle her. For the first time she admitted to herself that showing the pregnancy tester to John had been a mistake, she had known it would have driven him mad though she had never suspected he would have turned his anger towards her.

  Her hands came together, the fingers entwined as her own anger burned inside, she had been pleased when he had talked about disowning his daughter, helping to fan the flames and yet now she knew she would never be able to trust the man again.

  Hinton was too unstable and again she pondered the fact that ever since she had introduced him to cocaine his mood had changed. Another mistake, another oversight on her part, the drug had brought out the paranoia and she had tried to get him to ease back on the snow but by then it was too late, and he was snorting more and more, feeding his insecurities.

  'Are you sure you're OK?' Stone asked again.

  Livy kept her eyes closed as she tried to think of the best way to reply, in the end she decided on the age-old fail-safe, she burst into tears, her shoulders shaking, her gasps filled with desolation.

  When she felt the hand close over hers, she felt the flicker of hope rise inside.

  Every cloud has a silver lining, she thought as she continued to sob uncontrollably.

  Crocodile tears.

  102

  Robbins winced at the flare of pain as he drove away from the hospital, his right hand bandaged, the skin feeling somehow stretched taut as he changed gear.

  Checking the clock on the dashboard, he licked his lips, the alibi had worked out perfectly, by now Zero should have followed his instructions and his hated ex-wife would be dead. He pictured her sprawled on the floor, her eyes empty of life, the blood spreading out around her garish red.

  With a sigh of satisfaction, he pulled out the phone and pressed the call button, checking the mirrors as the ringtone droned into the car. Thirty seconds later, the feeling of satisfaction started to fade as the call remained unanswered.

  'It has not been possible to connect your call, please try again…'

  With a grunt of anger, he ended the call and then immediately tried again, the frustration building with every ring of the phone.

  By the time the automated voice started to repeat the mantra the frustration had morphed into anger.

  'Useless!' he spat and then another thought lanced into his brain.

  What if Zero had failed in his task?

  The thought made him snarl as he contemplated the fact that the bitch could still be alive, still breathing after all the time he had spent planning and finding the right one to get the job done.

  'No, no, she's dead,' he gasped as he tried to banish the bleak thoughts. 'She'll be dog meat by now.'

  Yet despite his best efforts the notion bloomed inside his faltering brain. He pictured a scenario where she had survived and Zero had been caught, the drive of the house clogged with police cars, their blue lights flashing out over the front of the house.

  And suddenly the confidence shattered, he thought of Lasser grilling Zero in a small windowless room and the thought that he could have somehow slipped up in his conversations with Zero spread through his mind like hungry flames consuming everything in their path.

  'He knows nothing,' Robbins snarled to himself as the car weaved slightly on the straight road.

  'Are you sure?' the internal voice of reason asked.

  Stabbing at the phone again, he mumbled a prayer as it started to ring again. 'Come on, you worthless worm, answer the phone,' he whimpered.

  Then another thought speared through the confusion, if he had been caught then perhaps the police had the phone, he pictured Lasser letting it ring whilst they tried to trace the call.

  It was preposterous, but once the thought had materialised, he found he couldn't dispel it, couldn't shake it free. With a yelp of fear, he ended the call and dropped the phone onto the passenger seat as if it was radioactive.

  The only way to be sure was to go home and check the computer and…

  Robbins groaned as he remembered that the police still had his computer, he shifted in his seat, the sweat of fear breaking out on his pallid forehead.

  He could check his phone and he still had the tablet but then another thought slammed into him, if Zero had been caught and his ex-wife was still alive then the police would soon arrive to question him and they would take his phone and tablet and if he used them to look for information then they would find it and then ask why he had been scanning the local news.

  Suddenly, the inside of the car seemed to close in around
him, his entire world shrinking from one of endless possibilities to one of doubt and fear.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to think rationally, if Zero had failed and the police came to question him then he still had the faultless alibi and Lasser would be unable to prove a single thing.

  He tried to hold onto the thought, but the doubt remained like a black cloud that continued to invade his senses until the walls of superiority started to crack.

  Without even realising it Robbins brought the car to a halt, suddenly afraid to go home and yet knowing that if he didn't then it would only make him look more guilty and his carefully planned alibi would start to crack.

  Lasser would check with the hospital, and they would provide the time he left after receiving treatment, and if he remained parked at the side of the road with the minutes ticking away then Lasser would ask why it had taken him so long to reach his house.

  Bradley Robbins felt trapped in a terrible limbo, for once he felt clueless about how to proceed and the image of Lasser loomed large through the panic, his dark eyes alight with anger and satisfaction as he snapped on the handcuffs.

  The image was so acute that Robbins actually yelped as if he could already feel the pain of the cuffs slicing into his flesh.

  Meanwhile, the precious minutes continued to tick into oblivion.

  103

  Lasser sat at the desk, the file open before him, his eyes red-rimmed through lack of sleep.

  After the horror of the nightmare, he had sat up till the early hours talking things through with Jackie.

  In the end they had settled under the duvet and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  Now, he cracked a yawn and then looked up as Bannister entered the room.

  'I don't know who looks the most shagged, you or me,' the DCI said as he walked over and sat down opposite.

  Easing back in his chair, Lasser folded his arms and studied the DCI's face. 'You look worse than me.'

  'Cheeky bastard,' Bannister grumbled.

  'So, how did it go at Hinton's place?'

  'It was a sodding nightmare, by the time I got there it was all kicking off.'

  '''Kicking off''?' Lasser asked as he squinted against the morning sun that filtered in through the half-closed office blinds.

  Bannister went on to explain about Hinton attacking his daughter on the driveway and being stopped by the passing good Samaritan.

  'The guy sounds like a nutter,' Lasser said with a shake of the head.

  'I tell you, Lasser, that man has a screw loose somewhere,' the DCI paused, 'anyway, enough about that, what are you up to?'

  'I thought I'd dig out the file on Pamela Fitzsimmons.'

  'Why?' Bannister demanded with a frown.

  'To be honest I have no idea, but Roger is struggling to locate Beth Robbins.'

  'Jesus, it should be easy enough to sort, what's taking him so long?'

  'After the divorce from Robbins she started to use her mother's maiden name.'

  'Hardly unusual, Sergeant.'

  'Roger did find an address, she was living in a block of flats in Scholes, but the problem is they were demolished a few months back and that's where the trail vanishes.'

  'What about a bank account?'

  'Roger's trying to gain access to it.'

  'OK, but it still doesn't explain why you are digging about in the Fitzsimmons file?'

  Lasser flicked it open and sighed. 'Because I don't know what else to do.'

  'Lasser at a loose end, that's a first,' the DCI said with a sly grin.

  'I spend my life at a loose end,' Lasser retorted as he pulled out an image of Pamela Fitzsimmons.

  Reaching across the desk, Bannister grabbed the file and spun it around. 'And I take it you're still convinced that Robbins is involved in all this?'

  'I could be wrong I guess.'

  'But you don't really believe that, do you?' Bannister asked as he flicked over another page.

  'Roger suggested that Beth Robbins could already be dead,' Lasser said and watched as Bannister pursed his lips.

  'It could explain why he can't find her.'

  'Yeah I know,' Lasser admitted as he rubbed at his tired eyes.

  'And if that was the case then it kind of kicks your theory about Robbins being responsible into next week.'

  'Don't remind me.'

  Bannister glanced down at the page and read a few lines about Pamela Fitzsimmons having serious mental health problems before turning over another page, when his eyes fell on the photograph he felt a second of confusion befuddle his mind and then he grabbed the picture and thrust it towards Lasser.

  'What has this woman got to do with the case?' he demanded urgently.

  Lasser glanced at the image before raising his eyes to Bannister. 'That's Beth Robbins.'

  'Fuck me,' the DCI gasped.

  'What's up with you?' Lasser asked, seeing Bannister's face suddenly flood with colour.

  'This is John Hinton's bloody girlfriend!'

  At first, Lasser thought he had heard wrong and then suddenly they were both on their feet.

  'Are you sure?' Lasser asked.

  'Of course I'm sure, she was there when I spoke to Hinton, she's the one who told me he would calm down.'

  Without uttering another word, they hurried from the room and dashed down the corridor, like two washed-out superheroes, by the time they made it to the car park they were both running.

  104

  Robbins felt the pressure inside his head continue to grow as he flicked through the news channels on the television, desperately searching for information.

  It had been late by the time he arrived back at the house and as he walked towards the front door, the terror had grown – he had half expected to see Lasser and Noble striding towards him through the darkness, handcuffs at the ready.

  When the security lights had blazed out, he had squinted against the glare as he forced his key into the lock, stepping into the hallway and closing the door, fear now running rampant through his mind.

  Three hours later, he had fallen asleep on the sofa, the television on, his eyes flickering beneath closed lids, his mind still unable to switch off from the terror.

  Now, he clicked the television off with a snarl and rose to his feet, this uncertainty was killing him, eating away at his fragile resolve.

  Crossing the room, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, wincing at the pain in his hand when he grabbed the car keys. Heading out of the house, he slammed the door behind him, beeped off the alarm and climbed into the car. Seconds later, he drove onto the lane and turned right, he needed to get away from here then he could think things through properly without the constant fear that the police would pull onto the drive to question him.

  Fifteen minutes later he was out on the moors that surrounded the town, the narrow lanes leading him up to a high point and a small lay-by that overlooked the reservoir below. Parking up, he licked his lips and pulled out the phone, hitting the green button with a shaking finger.

  The phone rang, his lips moving feverishly, sunlight spilled into the car and he slid the window down slightly as he started to sweat.

  The seconds ticked by, his hand tightening on the phone, finally it was answered, and he felt the relief flood through his body as he gasped.

  'Good morning, Master.'

  Robbins started to jitter behind the wheel as the fury flooded in to take the place of the fear. 'Where have you been!?' he demanded.

  'I'm sorry for not answering, things got hectic last night.'

  '''Hectic'', fucking ''hectic''!' Robbins screeched.

  'Yes, I…'

  'Is she dead, did you kill the bitch?'

  'I did, Master.'

  Robbins punched the air in sudden euphoria. 'Did you make her suffer?'

  'I'm sorry, Master, but I can't really speak at the moment.'

  'What are you talking about?' Robbins asked in surprise.

  'I'm at work,' Zero whispered.

  'I don't care about that, you
worm, I…'

  'Ring me back tonight and I'll tell you all about it.'

  'How dare you, how dare you tell me what to do?' Robbins screeched in astonishment.

  'Tonight, I'll tell you tonight.'

  The phone beeped and Robbins glared at the blank screen, his mind buckling under the weight of mixed emotions that swept through his brain.

  The bitch was dead and that was wonderful news, but despite that Zero had hung up on him, he'd ended the call without permission and that was unacceptable.

  Slumping back in the seat, his hands fell into his lap as for the first time he realised that the job was done, the thing he had set out to achieve had come to fruition. He felt thunderstruck with a sense of relief and achievement, once again he had committed the perfect crime, the question was what to do now?

  He thought of the months he had spent in front of the computer on the suicide sites hunting out the perfect blunt tool to get the job done. Now the whore was dead, and he was free of her, but what about Zero and what about the others who wanted to serve him?

  Opening the car door, he stepped out enjoying the warmth on his face, the heat of victory and revenge bringing a ragged smile to his face, he looked down at the reservoir and pondered what to do next.

  The sensible thing to do would be to forget all about Zero and his ilk, dispose of the phone and get on with his life, and yet it seemed such a waste after all the effort he had put in to ensnare first Foster and then Zero.

  'Be careful,' he whispered to himself.

  The bitch was dead and eventually the police would discover the carnage and then they would come calling, Lasser would push him hoping he would make a mistake but that would never happen.

  Gradually, the sense of invincibility took control again, over the last few hours the doubt had been truly awful but now he was home and dry. He had the alibi for last night and that would be his armour, his get-out-of-jail-free card. Lasser could push as much as he liked but ultimately the detective sergeant wasn't equipped with the brain power to outthink him.

  Robbins smiled in satisfaction, game set and match, he thought as he laughed lightly.