'I never asked you to lie for me, Sarah.'
'But if you're going to do this thing why would you want them to know who you are, I mean, it doesn't make any sense.'
'It does to me.'
Sarah felt exasperated, her emotions shredded.
'Get some rest.'
'But…'
The phone bleeped and flashed in her hand, Shaun Carver was gone.
Rolling onto his back, Shaun slid the mobile into his pocket; he was thirty yards from the back of Sarah's home, lying prone on the wet ground. He could see her standing at the bedroom window, looking out, searching for him in the dark.
He heard a dog yap, a single bark, and then the silence descended again, broken only by the sound of the rain pattering on the hood of his jacket. Reaching down, he snapped open a pocket and drew out the knife; pressing a button, he heard the blade crack open.
It felt strange to be holding it again, after he'd been discharged, he thought he'd never need to see it again, let alone use it. Lifting it to his face, he ran the edge of the blade along his cheek, the metal cold against his skin. The blade was black, deliberately made that way to avoid picking up light, a serious weapon, designed for serious use.
He slid it into the ground six inches from his face and waited, he knew the man would turn up the only question was when. Still, it didn't really matter, tonight, tomorrow, it made little difference the end result would be the same.
Closing his eyes, he waited.
99
'I know where we are,' Lasser peered out at the strange landscape, slagheaps made of molten shale, like alien meteorites that had crashed to earth a millennium ago.
'Well come on, spit it out or are we meant to guess,' Bannister's swanky waterproofs were smeared with mud and grime, his hair plastered to his head, face, drawn and haggard.
'Park Lane's just across the next field, Hindley town centre is a mile that way,' he jabbed a finger to the right.
'Right,' Bannister yanked out his phone and tapped at a couple of keys before sliding it to his ear. 'Meadows, it's Bannister, I want you to send a van to the bottom of Park Lane in Hindley, ASAP.'
Susan Coyle grabbed the ends of her hair and rung out the rainwater, before wiping her hands on her trousers. Currie pulled the dog to one side as it squatted and evacuated its bowels on the cinder path.
'I hope you've got your pooper-scooper on you, Paul, otherwise it's a fifty-pound fine,' Lasser whispered from the corner of his mouth.
'Yes, yes, Park Lane,' Bannister snapped, the scowl on his face darkening. 'No a squad car won't bloody do. I said van, now get a move on.' Jamming the phone into his pocket, Bannister looked up at the starless sky. 'I take it we should have gone right instead of left?'
'It looks that way.' Lasser checked his phone and grimaced, when he saw one digit left on the battery.
'What are you doing, Lasser?'
'I was going to give Cathy Harper a ring, tell her to keep her eyes open.'
Bannister grunted. 'How far is it to Palmer's house?'
'I'd say about a mile back that way,' he replied, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.
'Right, you can ring her whilst we're walking.' Bannister took two strides along the path and then suddenly stopped, 'For fuck's sake!'
The foul stench of dog shit wafted up from the ground.
'Bastard animal,' Bannister snarled before wiping the sole of his shoe back and forth in the tall grass. 'If anyone laughs then I'll put them on a disciplinary.'
Lasser tried to hold it in but the absurdity of the situation was too much, even with his lips clamped together the snort still managed to erupt from his nostrils.
'Lasser, you bastard!' Then Bannister sighed and shook his head, 'What a night, what a bloody awful night.'
'Slowly Robert.'
Flynn felt the quiver of fear crawl over his skin, he felt exposed and vulnerable as he walked across the open field. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, making walking difficult. It seemed as if every few strides his foot would sink into a divot, mud squelching as he pulled it free. Wet mist drifted up from the saturated earth, it felt as if he were walking in a black cloud that had fallen to earth.
'I don't like this,' he whimpered.
'Remember Connelly; remember how I looked after you when all you wanted was to run?'
'This feels different.'
'You don't trust me?' the voice asked with a hint of sadness.
Robert hesitated before answering; remembering the times, the voice had threatened to abandon him to leave him alone and lost. 'But what about the police, what if they're waiting; what if there're more than I can handle?'
'There won't be.'
'But how can you know, how can you be sure?' he hissed.
A sigh sifted through his head. 'Because the police are in town looking for you, they can't afford to wait here hoping you turn up.'
'What about the ones who followed me?'
'They're gone for now but you have to move quickly, you have to be decisive.'
Robert could feel the effects of the pills slowly beginning to wear off, anxiety filled the space, an uncertainty that threatened to paralyse him.
'Maybe I should take another tablet?' he asked hopefully.
'Take two,' the voice replied.
Robert rummaged in the lining of his jacket and for a few agonizing seconds; he couldn't locate the precious pills. Maybe they'd fallen from his pocket as he ran, perhaps they'd slipped out as he fell in the stream. His tormented brain showed him the small oblong box being carried away by the water and he groaned in anguish before he felt his fingers brush the box. A spurt of piss squirted into his pants in relief. When he pulled the box free, it fell to pieces in his hands, the cardboard sodden. Letting it fall to the ground, he popped two tablets free from the inner sleeve and slid them into his mouth.
'Better?' the voice asked.
'Mm,' Robert smiled, he could sense the power returning, taking the edge off the fear, it was like being reborn as a better man.
'Right let's continue.'
Pulling his feet free from the mud, he set off walking, counting the houses as he went. When he saw the lights shining in the windows of number eight, he broke into a wide grin. It was as if some unknown entity were drawing him towards her, helping to fulfil his destiny.
The voice was right, the filth couldn't afford to wait here, there would be one, two at the most. He would kill them quickly and then make sure the bitch died as slowly and in as much agony as was humanly possible. First, he would slice off her eyelids with the special knife, then cut off her nipples, and make her watch as he ate them or maybe he would feed them to her bitch friend. The image blossomed, the excitement flooded his mind, he would have such fun, and she would beg, plead and promise him anything, until he cut out her tongue. His erection strained to break free, reaching down Robert popped the buttons, his cock sprang forward, ready to stab and split, let her see it then she'd know what was in store.
When the apparition rose from the mist, Robert opened his mouth to scream, all the childhood nightmares came screaming and jabbering out of the darkness, finding the very core of him, the heart of his fear. The monster under the bed, the creature in the wardrobe, the man with the bright smile on his kindly face, fucking his mother after he'd opened her throat. All brought to agonising life in the shadow that lunged towards him with staggering speed. Robert tried to cry for help, then something slammed hard into the centre of his face and he fell backwards disappearing into the mist, unconscious before he hit the rain-sodden ground.
100
Cathy opened the door to find Bannister and Lasser standing on the path looking like two scarecrows miraculously brought to life and looking for shelter from the storm.
'Anything?' Bannister snapped, as he strode into the hall, Lasser followed looking weary to the point of exhaustion.
'No sir, nothing, as soon as you rang, PC Black went out back but there was no sign of anyone hanging around.'
Lasser l
ooked down, the water dripping from his clothes forming a puddle that was rapidly spreading across the wooden floor. Glancing at his watch, he was amazed to find it was three in the morning, he tried to work out when he had last been to bed, when he had last seen Medea or had something to eat but his brain refused to do the math.
'Right, Scott and Sharma are on their way, I want two teams here until we catch this bastard.'
Cathy flicked a glance at Lasser but he had his head down as if he couldn't bring himself to look at her. 'Very good, sir,' she replied.
Erin popped her head around the kitchen door and then vanished for a few seconds before reappearing with an armful of towels. 'You two look awful,' she said as she handed them over.
Bannister dragged the towel across his face and then began to rub at his short hair.
'What about the floor,' Lasser asked.
Erin flapped a hand; she still looked distressed, her eyes narrowed as if she were turning a complex puzzle around in her head. 'Don't worry about that, I'll clean it up.'
Bannister nodded. 'Right, Harper, as soon as it gets light I've arranged for the dog handlers to get here and go over the field at the back.'
'You think he's going to try and find us?' Erin asked.
Bannister opened his jacket and shirt and slid the towel inside, rubbing at his torso in an effort to get dry, a patch of dark hair on his chest curling.
'Mrs Nash, we've spent the last,' he checked his watch, his eyes widening in surprise. 'Three hours chasing the man we believe is responsible for all this. Unfortunately, we lost him in dense woodland, we turned left when we should have gone right…'
'But…'
'Left led back to Hindley town centre, right goes over the fields and heads directly to the back of this house.'
The puzzled look left her eyes, replaced by plain, simple fear, 'Oh God.'
Bannister draped the towel around his neck. 'That's why I'm doubling the teams to help look after you and Mrs Palmer. By the way where is she?'
'Upstairs asleep,' Cathy replied.
It's all right for some, Lasser thought.
'I'll also make sure you have an officer at the front of the property and provide you with personal protection alarms.'
Erin's eyes sprang open wide. 'Christ, you don't think it'll come to that do you?'
'Absolutely not, they'll just be a precaution, rest assured, Mrs Nash, we hope to have this man in custody sooner rather than later.'
She nodded in relief and took the towel from Bannister.
Just then, they heard a knock at the door, Lasser could see two bulky shapes distorted by the frosted glass. When he opened it, he saw the familiar faces of Scott and Sharma; both men looked fresh and ready for action, Sharma frowned when he saw the state of his superiors, Scott looked unperturbed.
'Come in lads.'
Sharma eased through the gap, trying to avoid brushing up against Lasser, the last thing he wanted was to get his pristine uniform soiled. Scott didn't seem to care and strode into the hallway, he gave Cathy a brief nod and then glanced at Erin, before turning to Bannister.
'Morning, sir.'
'Forget the small talk, I don't have the energy.'
Sharma looked shocked at the admission.
Scott merely nodded.
'Eyes and ears open, gentlemen, this is a serious job, not an excuse to raid the biscuit barrel and watch repeats of Jeremy Kyle.
'Right, sir,' they replied in unison.
Bannister turned to Cathy. 'Harper, I know this an unusual request but I want you and Black to stay here. I'm sure at the end of your shift Mrs Nash can find you somewhere to sleep?' he looked at Erin with a raised eyebrow.
'Of course.'
Cathy nodded. 'No problem.'
'Good, right, anything happens you contact me immediately.'
Nods all round.
'Come on, Lasser, let's get some rest.'
Cathy tried to catch his eye as he made his way to the door but Lasser looked as if he were in another world. His body on autopilot, his mind already at home in bed with…Cathy turned away, she could feel the blush creeping across her face and hated herself for it. She watched as they walked down the drive towards Bannister's car. Lasser didn't look back, Cathy closed the door quietly with a sigh.
101
He lay in the bath, his big toe plugging the hot water tap. Medea stroked his thigh with her fingertips, the water lapping dangerously near the lip of the tub. He could feel her body, hot and silken against his, like some magical balm that soothed and restored. Dipping his head, he breathed in the scent of her hair. His aching muscles began to relax as the last few hours of torture slowly began to fade.
'Are you OK?' she asked.
'I can't remember the last time I had a bath,' he replied.
'That's gross.'
'It was always in and out of the shower, taking a bath seemed pointless.'
'And what about now?'
He ran his fingertips through her wet hair. 'Now I couldn't imagine anywhere I'd sooner be.'
She spun over in the water and rested her chin on his chest. 'Whilst you were gone I was trying to figure all this out.'
'Figure what out?'
'You know, what makes a man do such horrible things.'
Lasser wiped a froth of bubbles from the end of her nose. 'Save your energy, he's a nutter plain and simple.
'But he wasn't always like this.'
Lasser raised an eyebrow. 'And how would you know what he was like?'
'Well I don't but it stands to reason he must have been sane at some point.'
Something wasn't right here and then Lasser heard a small microwave ping go off in his tired brain. 'Suzanne Ramsey,' he said.
He saw a cautious look slide into her eyes. 'What about her?'
'You've been talking haven't you?'
'Might have.'
Lasser scratched at his chin. 'So, Bannister's been indulging in pillow talk has he?'
Medea trailed a finger along the raven tattoo on his shoulder. 'She's worried about him.'
'Yeah well, Alan Bannister's a big boy…'
'Oh come on, Lasser, that's just male bullshit.'
Unplugging his toe from the tap, he curled his leg around her until he cradled the swell of her bottom, the skin beneath feverish with heat. 'Bannister told me he's been thinking about emigrating, taking Suzanne and Kelly with him.'
'She mentioned it.'
Lasser looked at her in surprise. 'Considering you only met the woman last night, you seem to have talked about a lot of stuff.'
'We're women; we don't waste time with small talk.'
'So did she say whether she intends going with him?'
'She won't go.'
'Did she say that or is it women's intuition?'
She placed a finger against his lips. 'She mentioned it to Kelly and she threatened to move out and get a flat.'
Lasser shrugged. 'Maybe she just needs time to get used to the idea.'
'Suzanne doesn't think so.'
'Well, finding out she had Bannister for a father was bound to scar her.'
'Did anyone ever tell you, you have a sarcastic streak?'
He suddenly remembered Cathy saying the same thing to him and felt his face flare with colour. 'How did you get onto the subject of Flynn?' he asked, desperate to change the subject.
'We just got talking, trying to figure out what kind of man could hate women so much.'
'Yeah well if Connelly, Tommy Grieves, and the guy flipping the burgers were still here they'd probably disagree with that assumption.'
'That's different.'
Lasser frowned, 'In what way?'
'Well, I think he killed them out of necessity rather than some irrepressible urge.'
'My, my, Bannister has been spilling the beans.'
'She's his partner, they're bound to talk.'
'Like we do you mean?'
Medea flicked water at his face. 'I only ask you things because I want you to know you can trust me.
Besides, I think it's healthy not to keep things bottled up. I mean, I realise it's hard for you…'
'It's not hard; it's just a shock that someone should be interested,' he could feel the tiredness creeping up on him; he tried to stifle the yawn and failed.
'Come on, you need to get some sleep and I need to get ready for work.'
'Jesus, I forgot you had to work today.'
She slid up his body; he could feel his erection growing as she brushed her lips across his, before pulling herself from of the water.
Lasser watched as she slid into a bathrobe. With a sigh, he pushed himself under the water; he could hear the blood thundering in his ears, the steady thud of his heart. When he broke the surface, Medea had vanished.
102
Robert tried to scream but the tape across his mouth made it impossible. Pale light fell onto his upturned face, segmented by the overhead branches. He tried to move and found he couldn't, tried to twist his head, the fear seeping through his brain invading every part of him, fucking with him.
Lashed to the trunk of the fallen tree, the air filled with the sound of rainwater dripping from the leaves, the stink of rotting vegetation cloying and visceral assaulted his senses. Somewhere amongst the trees, a magpie clacked laughter. Robert tried to remember what had happened, but he couldn't get his brain to function beyond the fact that he was trapped, bound, and gagged at the mercy of…? He screamed but the sound was only inside his shrinking brain, he remembered the monster under the bed, made real. Sweeping towards him out of the dark, rising to fulfil its own destiny, he recalled being swept up and carried, as a father carries a sleeping child to bed.
Lying still, he strained to hear the internal voice, dashing along the fevered corridors of his mind, thrusting open doors to discover desolate rooms full of meaningless clutter, the stench of decay forcing him back. Room after empty room, the voice had betrayed him, and left him to suffer alone at the hands of some unspeakable horror. Robert's eyes bulged, the veins in his neck and forehead pulsated with a slow, throbbing agony. When he saw the spider crawling in the grass a few inches from his face, he was sure he would lose his mind, another childhood fear brought to stark reality. He watched with tear-filled eyes as it came ever closer. Its long, insect legs reaching and stretching, the body appeared a sickly, bloated, yellow colour, a poisonous sack. In his tortured mind it suddenly grew in size, the legs thickened, the body expanded until it filled the very soul of him.
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