Lasser glanced at his boss, Bannister's face twitched, the lips curling back over his teeth in a savage smile. 'I…'
'Now get this man out of my sight and I'd advise you to start looking for another job, Sergeant, because I won't have insubordination in my ranks.'
'You still haven't answered my question…'
'And neither will I. You were trouble when you came over to Liverpool and it seems as if your behaviour has been allowed to go unchecked.'
Lasser felt his brain slide as if it were rushing to the edge of a cliff, a lemming determined to self-destruct. 'Do you know her name?'
'Get out before I have you removed.'
'Her name was Cathy Harper, but you won't bother yourself with trivialities like that, will you?'
Suddenly, Lasser felt his arms gripped hard from behind, snapping his head around he came face to face with Shannon's wild beard. 'Come on, son, he's not listening.'
'I beg your pardon?' Wilson looked at the pathologist in disbelief.
Lasser tried to dig his heels in but Shannon simply pushed him along, his feet leaving twin scars in the wet ground. 'Tosser,' Lasser spat over his shoulder.
Wilson's hands were opening and closing in fury. 'Well, Bannister, it's no wonder you can't police this town if you allow men like that to carry on working.'
Bannister watched as Shannon manhandled the Sergeant to the patio and then Lasser shook himself free and stormed around the side of the house, the doctor waddling after him, trying to keep up on his stunted legs.
Bannister sighed and flicked a glance at Wilson. 'He isn't normally like this, something must have happened…'
'That's no excuse, the man is a liability, and I'll make sure when this is over he's dumped out of the force.'
Bannister looked down at Cathy; her head was slumped onto her chest the uniform saturated with rainwater and blood. 'So come on, Wilson, you never answered him.'
'What are you talking about?'
'Her name, Lasser was right you had no idea did you?'
'Get out, Bannister; I have no use for you here.'
Alan Bannister took a step towards Wilson who suddenly looked unsure of himself. 'I'm going nowhere, Cathy was one of mine, and I'm staying here until they take her away.'
Wilson glared, his mouth opened and then snapped closed, without uttering a word he spun around and headed back towards the house.
Bannister watched him go before turning and crouching down by the side of the body. Reaching out, he brushed a tail of wet hair from her pale face. 'I'm sorry, lass,' he whispered.
137
Shaun stopped and listened, steam rose from his sweatshirt, rain slid down his face, this time it wasn't just one dog that barked. It suddenly seemed as if the ancient woodland was filled with the sound of baying hounds. Adjusting the backpack, he snapped the knife closed and thrust it into his pocket, he could see torchlight in the distance, the lights careering between the trees.
Dragging a hand across his face, he set off running again. Sarah had said that Flynn had killed a police officer, a woman, who no doubt had been trying to do her duty. Shaun could feel the burden of her death weighing down on his shoulders. If he hadn't tried to be clever then she would still be alive of that he had no doubt. He'd had Flynn tied and helpless but instead of simply cutting the man's throat, he'd headed off on a fruitless exercise. Now, a woman was dead and Flynn was once again out there, and God alone knew how many more would die if he wasn't caught.
Leaping over a fallen tree, Shaun burst through the trees and skidded to a halt; he could see the houses in the distance, the occasional light flickered at an upstairs window, apart from that the estate was in darkness.
He had no idea if Flynn had headed this way after killing the woman, but Shaun knew he had no choice, he had to get away from this place and work out what he was going to do. Though how he was going to catch Flynn was anybody's guess, his only hope was that the police would catch up with him before he did more damage.
Gritting his teeth, he set off running, his feet flying over the wild grass. Surefooted, he crossed the field in under a minute. As he reached the alleyway, he glanced back over his shoulder just as the first of his pursuers broke through the cover of trees. He couldn't actually see the figures but he saw the lights well enough, crossing one another, searching for him; the dogs barked again, a sound full of urgency. Shaun turned and vanished into the darkened alleyway.
138
Lasser had no idea where he was going; the street was crowded with people, neighbours, and passers-by, the usual crowd associated with any tragedy. He heard Shannon call his name and ignored it, he had to get away, had to think. His mind was full with images of Cathy. Blue light spiralled across the faces of the onlookers, giving them a twisted appearance; one or two gave him a curious look as he stormed past.
Lasser quickened his pace, without realising it, he broke into a run, the rain cascaded down, soaking into his clothing, still he ran on. A wild animal trying to escape some indescribable pain, and all the time the knowledge of what he had done kept pace, like a shadow that couldn't be shaken. Streetlights flashed by, the occasional car would thunder past, throwing up sheets of filthy water.
This was his fault; if he'd caught Flynn when he had the chance then Cathy would still be alive. His vision began to fragment, blurred with tears, his heart reared and he tripped over an uneven kerbstone and hurtled forward. Both knees slammed hard into the ground, he felt the grit rip into his flesh. Head hanging, fists planted on the pavement, Lasser felt the guilt crashing down.
He tried to stand and found all his energy had evaporated, as if he were a basin full of stagnant water and someone had pulled the plug. When the tyres hissed through the standing water, he didn't move. Lasser heard the click of the car door and managed to twist his head to the side. Bannister stood in the gutter, rainwater running over his expensive shoes, both hands thrust into the pockets of his waterproof jacket.
'Get in the car.'
Pushing himself to his knees, Lasser looked up at a sky that didn't exist. 'Go away.'
Bannister sighed and stepped onto the kerb. 'What were you thinking, Wilson will try to finish you over this?'
'I don't give a fuck about Wilson…'
'Well you should.'
Lasser turned and looked at his boss. 'And why's that, I mean, what's the point? I'm useless, we're all fucking useless. Robert Flynn is a nothing, a nobody, and yet we can't even get our hands on him, what the fuck does that say about us?'
Bannister took another step forward; the rain fell around him in a shimmering halo reflected by the car's headlights. 'It says we're only human, it says we've made mistakes, but we don't give up. Cathy was a good officer, and Spenner – or have you forgotten about the poor sod lying in hospital with a bloody great hole in his throat?'
Lasser shook his head like a wet dog. 'Did you know me and Cathy had been in a relationship?'
This time Bannister took a backward step. 'What?'
'Oh don't worry, like everything else in this shitty life it didn't last.'
Bannister looked down at his feet and then moved forward until he was standing by Lasser's side. 'I didn't know.'
'Yeah, well, coppers are good at keeping secrets, aren't they?'
Bannister slapped a hand onto his shoulder. 'You should have told me…'
'What difference would it have made; she'd still have been standing alone at the back of the house waiting for Flynn to turn up with his fucking Stanley knife.'
Bannister let his hand slip from Lasser's shoulder. 'Listen to me, Lasser, now isn't the time to give up. We have to catch this man before he does it again, we owe it to Cathy.'
Lasser swiped a savage hand across his mouth. 'And how do you suggest we do that?'
'Well, first of all we talk to Sarah Palmer. Maybe she knows more than she let on.'
'What if she does, it makes no difference.'
Bannister frowned. 'OK, I'll tell you what we'll do, why don't we go find a bo
ozer and get pissed, you know kill a few hours while we've nothing better to do?'
Lasser felt the anger warp his mind, and then he seemed to fold in on himself, the incredible shrinking man. 'What about Wilson, he won't want me anywhere near the house?'
'Yes well, I think we've gone way past insubordination, don't you? Besides I know what Wilson's like, he won't hang around, he'll be out there marshalling the troops.'
'If I remember rightly his idea of marshalling the troops means standing in front of the media and spinning them bullshit.'
Bannister smiled sadly. 'So, why don't we make the most of the time we have?'
They locked eyes; Lasser dragged himself to his feet. 'For Cathy,' he whispered.
Bannister nodded. 'Good man, now get in the car.'
For the first time in what felt like an age, Lasser did as he was told.
139
'But I want to go back,' Robert wailed. 'I don't want to be running away, you promised…'
Santa Claus laughter tinkled inside his head. 'Cat amongst the pigeons, Robert, now take a left.'
As soon as he'd killed the bitch in the garden, the voice had told him to back away. Robert had stood over her body, his nerves thrumming with adrenalin. 'But…'
'Remember your promise?'
Flynn had felt his shoulders slump; his bottom lip had shot out like a sulking child. 'But why?' He'd whinged.
'Call it a test.'
It had taken all his willpower to turn away from the house. She was in there; he knew it he could almost smell her fear. His brain had clicked through the scenarios, click and he was at the backdoor. Another click and he was inside the house and dashing for the stairs. Robert had closed his eyes as if he were working the shutter on a fancy camera, click, he burst into her bedroom and there she was with her cunt friend cowering in the corner.
As he stormed down the street, the images had begun to fade as if someone were rubbing them out with a magical mental eraser.
'Turn right, Robert.'
Robert Flynn cut through narrow alleyways, sometimes doubling back on himself, yet all the time moving away from the house of dreams.
'It isn't fair,' he mumbled.
'Take another tablet and calm down.'
'But she was there, I could have got her, I could have opened her up…'
'Perhaps,' the voice paused, 'but what's the rush, I thought you wanted to take your time with her?'
'I do.'
A late-night taxi swept by and Robert flicked up the hood of his sweatshirt.
'And would you have been able to take your time in a house surrounded by the law?'
'I could still have made her suffer,' he sulked.
'Really?'
Robert could hear the ridicule in the voice and it made his blood boil, he could have done it, given the chance, he would have made her beg and plead whether the house was surrounded or not.
'What do you want me to do?' he asked.
'I want you to listen to me.'
'I am listening.'
'Good, now what's the point in taking risks when there's no need?'
'Risks?'
'You killed the woman, and by now the place will be crawling with the filth…'
'Like flies around shit,' Robert grinned.
'Exactly, so we take our time, we don't do anything rash.'
It made sense, as usual, the voice was right. If he had made it into the house, then things could have gone wrong. He could have been trapped, caught, killed, the thought twisted his guts.
'You see the bigger picture now don't you, Robert?'
Another car glided by, water sprayed up from the gutter and spattered across his boots. Robert didn't even notice, he broke into a smile, the voice knew what to do, and he had promised he would take away all the doubt, all he had to do was trust.
A minute later, he vanished into the town centre, the streets were full of late-night revellers and he moved through them whistling as he went on his merry way.
140
Bannister had been right in his assumption; Wilson had left the house, dashing off to the local radio station for a late-night interview about the tragic death of a fellow officer.
Lasser stood at the kitchen window, looking out onto a back garden lit by a powerful arc light. The murder scene was awash with white light that obliterated the shadows, leaving everything horrifically pristine.
In time, he knew this would all be over. Maybe Sarah Palmer would sell the house, too many memories forcing her to move away. Another family would move in and the memories of what had happened here would fade. No doubt, kids would play on the lawn, the grass would grow. Lasser could almost see the phantom image of a father pushing the mower back and forth, and the spot where Cathy had died would be forgotten. Eventually the shed would go and maybe this unknown family would lay flags or plant flowers in the spot where his ex-lover had died.
Sighing, he turned away from the window. Erin was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands clasped around a mug of something hot. Sarah stood in the doorway looking nervous. Bannister loomed in front of her, his hands thrust onto his hips.
'And you're sure this man didn't tell you his name?'
Sarah flicked her eyes up and then back down again. 'I've already told you…'
'I know what you told us, Mrs Palmer, but I want you to be sure about this, because if you've been withholding…'
'What are you accusing me of?'
'You said he had light-coloured hair?'
'That's right.'
'And what was he wearing?'
'I've already told you, he had on an old camouflage jacket, but it was dark and…'
'And he never told you his name?'
Erin looked across the room and Lasser watched as she narrowed her eyes.
Something wasn't right here. 'Did you ask his name?' he asked.
Sarah sighed. 'No I didn't…'
Lasser pushed himself away from the sink. 'You were gone over an hour, you ran across a ploughed field in the dark to find this man, and you're telling me that when you found him you didn't ask his name?'
Erin watched as Sarah's face bloomed with colour. 'Sarah, if you know anything, you should tell them,' she whispered.
Sarah's eyes flitted around the room, her teeth battering her bottom lip. 'I…'
'A friend of mine died out here tonight, she died trying to protect you…'
'You think I don't know that,' she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.
Lasser took a step towards her. 'You wanted to find this man, you even went to the papers to discover his identity and you expect us to believe that you didn't ask his bloody name?'
'I…'
'You're lying,' Lasser jabbed out a finger. Bannister glanced over his shoulder, his face set in a frown.
'Easy, Sergeant,' he mumbled.
Lasser ignored him and closed the gap. 'Tell me his name, or so help me God…'
She tried to spin away and Lasser grabbed her arm. 'Get your hands off me!' she attempted to snatch herself free but Lasser kept hold.
'The woman they've just carted away in a body bag was twenty-eight years old. If she hadn't been doing her job, then Robert Flynn would have gotten into your house and by now you would be in bits…'
'I…'
'Tell me his fucking name!'
'Shaun!' she gasped.
Lasser saw red. 'You lying bitch!'
Bannister grabbed his shoulders and dragged him back.
'Second name?' The DCI snapped.
Sarah's head fell forward, her dark hair swinging to cover her face. 'Carver,' she whispered.
Lasser snorted and spun away.
Yanking out his phone, Bannister jabbed at the buttons, his eyes locked on the woman who stood in the doorway. 'Meadows, I need information on a Shaun Carver, address unknown, but we think he lives locally.'
Lasser looked back through the kitchen window and then snapped his head away, convinced that he'd seen a sepia image of Cathy sprawled against the small woo
den shed.
'Right, Meadows, I'll ring back in five and you'd better have some answers for me.' Bannister snapped the phone closed. 'Right, Mrs Palmer, what else have you neglected to tell us?'
She looked towards Erin, tears sliding down her cheeks. Erin looked away as if she couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. 'Nothing, he told me his name and what he intended to do, but that's all.'
'Why didn't you tell us sooner?' Lasser asked.
'I don't know.'
'He might have saved your life, Sarah, but you still knew it was wrong.'
She looked at Lasser, tears shone in her green eyes. 'I'm sorry, I just wanted it all to be over and he was insistent that he could take care of it.'
'Yeah, well, it went pear-shaped didn't it?'
'I never meant for your friend to get hurt…'
'She wasn't hurt, Robert Flynn opened her throat with a Stanley knife and she bled to death in your back garden…'
Bannister sighed. 'OK, Lasser, that's enough.'
Lasser glared at the woman before turning away and heading for the kitchen door. Yanking it open, he moved onto the patio, he could see Carl from forensics kneeling down by the side of the shed, studying the ground closely. Under normal circumstances, he would have wandered over to find out what was going on, but he couldn't face it. Instead, he moved down the side of the house and lit another cigarette. When his phone began to vibrate, he stuck the cigarette into the corner of his mouth and fumbled around in his pocket. When he saw Medea's name flashing on the screen, he hesitated before slipping it up to his ear.
'Are you OK?' she asked, her voice fraught with tension.
A gust of wind hammered down the narrow passage forcing Lasser to turn away with a shiver. 'I'm OK.'
'You don't sound it?'
'I've had better days,' he admitted.
'Listen, I'm just letting you know that Suzanne's dropped me back at your house.'
'Right.'
'So do you have any idea when you'll be back?'
Lasser turned back into the howling gale. 'I can't say at the moment.'
Twisted Page 33
