Vanished Beneath: DS Lasser six (The Lasser series Book 6) (21 page)

'That was quick,' he said.

'Yeah well, to be honest there's not much to see.'

'Aye, I thought the place looked a bit deserted.'

'Right, you can board it up I've finished here.'

The man waved his sandwich as Lasser climbed into his car, as he drove away the joiner popped the last of his butty into his mouth before grabbing his hammer from the front lawn.

54

'Look, Norv, I can still do this,' Boris said as he wiped his oily hands on an even oilier rag.

Norvil looked at his brother in disdain. 'I've already told you I've had a nod, the filth are watching us, waiting for us to do something stupid.'

Boris looked around the scrap yard as if he expected to find a legion of officers hiding amongst the mountain of junk. 'But we can't just leave the shit at the lockup.'

Norvil kicked a hubcap across the yard. 'So, what do you suggest? I mean, if we go anywhere near the place then they'll come down on us like a ton of shit.'

'Look, even if they find Elliot...'

'
They've already found him, you dickhead!
'

Boris looked worried. '
When
, I mean,
how
?'

'Last night, they collared him in Leigh.'

'Fuck!'

Norvil looked at his brother and not for the first time he wished that he were an only child. 'My man told me Elliot resisted arrest and ended up in the ozzie for his troubles.'

'Maybe I should go and see him and...'

'Oh, that sounds like a plan, you turning up with a bunch of grapes in your rigger boots.'

'But...'

'Shut the
fuck up,
Boz, I need to think.'

Boris frowned and picked up the monkey wrench. 'Whatever you say, Norvil,' he snarled.

Norvil raised an eyebrow. 'Temper, temper, brother mine.'

55

As expected, Joseph Crank’s flat had turned out to be a shithole, the poky living space was littered with empty fast food trays and dozens of empty beer cans. Lasser had kicked his way through the rubbish to a bedroom that stank of desperation and sweaty feet.

In the end, he had a cursory glance through the bedside cabinet containing a half-eaten meat pie with fur growing from it and a coke bottle full to the brim with yellow piss. There had been no wardrobe; Crank's meagre clothes lay scattered on the floor, the window covered with a dusty blind.

Lasser had walked out onto the balcony and given Medea a quick call, she'd sounded tense with anxiety, once or twice he'd heard her sniff back the tears.

'Listen, Med, you need to try and keep calm...'

'How do you expect me to keep calm after what's happened?'

'I know it's hard but we should have the name of her partner by this afternoon and then we can take it from there.'

'But what if he's snatched her...'

Lasser had looked over the balcony at a kid kicking a ball against a garage door. 'Med, you have to remember Emma's twenty-eight...'

'What has her age got to do with anything?'

For the first time he could hear an underlying thread of anger in her voice. 'She could still come walking through the door, or she could ring you to explain...'

'I know her, Lasser, and you don't, there is no way Emma would just vanish without trace!'

'OK, OK I'm just saying...'

'Well don't. Just get out there and do something about it!'

'Believe me, Med, we're doing all we can,' he lied.

'Don't patronise me, Lasser,'
the anger was now bubbling just beneath the surface, one more stupid comment from him and she would lose it big time.

'As soon as I know anything I'll call you.'

'So what do I do in the mean time?'

'There's nothing you can do, I...'

'Well, thank you for that vote of confidence.'

Lasser sighed and fiddled with the cigarettes, resisting the urge to spark up. 'Come on, you know what I mean.'

'Actually I don't.'

'Now you're just being stubborn, I...'

'
Pig
!'

Lasser heard the click of the phone and looked at the screen in surprise;
Medea had hung up on him.
Pressing redial he waited for her to pick up, when the call went through to voicemail, he hesitated. 'Listen, Med, I realise this hard for you but you need to be patient. I'll call you later,' he said before ending the call.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting in Tilly Crank's tidy living room. The lady herself walked in from the kitchen with two cups in her hand and fluffy slippers on her feet.

'You said one sugar didn't you?' she asked.

'One's fine, Tilly.'

'I've just spoken to our Elizabeth and she's on her way.'

Lasser took the cup off her and smiled. 'Thanks.'

'Is it to do with what happened to our Joseph?' she asked as she eased onto the sofa.

'To be honest I'm not sure.'

She shook her head sadly. 'I still can't believe it, I mean, the papers are saying there could be more bodies in the lake.'

'I...'

'And those poor girls it's terrible, just terrible.'

Lasser took a sip from the cup and nodded. 'The last time I was here you said one of Joseph's first girlfriends was called Shelly?'

'Yes, but I didn't know he had her name tattooed on his backside.'

'You think he had it put there so that you wouldn't see it?'

Tilly sighed and placed the cup on a small table by the side of the sofa. 'Joe was always trying to be a rebel, he thought it made him some kind of big man, truth was he was a fool.'

'Everyone makes mistakes, Tilly.'

She looked at Lasser with narrowed eyes. 'Mistakes I can live with but not stupidity. Joe was brought up in a good family, Sergeant, oh, his father was a waste, but he always had love from the rest of us.'

'I don't doubt it.'

'So why did he start taking drugs, why did he have to shove that stuff up his nose, you tell me that?'

'I...'

'He was in rehab four times, and every time he came out he would go straight back on the stuff. I mean, where's the sense in that?'

'Some people just find it hard to cope.'

She made a hissing sound like steam escaping from a pressure valve.
'But cope with what?'

Lasser shrugged. 'Maybe he wanted to get clean but this isn't the best town to do it in.'

Tilly shook her head. 'That's the problem; people always make excuses for these idiots. I loved Joe but he was weak-willed, no willpower, he was always whinging about something. Every time I saw him, he wanted money off me. If he owed cash, it was never his fault; he always had a pathetic excuse, always ready to blame others.'

Lasser nodded in agreement. 'You see it a lot in this job, most of the time they deny there's a problem, they think they can cope with the situation and then before you know it it's too late.'

She looked sadly at the photograph on top of the telly. 'I was always proud of the way I raised them, they always had manners, even our Joseph - until he started sticking a needle in his arm.'

Lasser sighed and then they heard a key in the front door.

'That'll be our Elizabeth,' Tilly said before blowing her nose on a piece of tissue.

Lasser stood up and placed his cup on the table, as he turned Lizzie walked into the room with a toddler held in her arms.

'Who's this then?' Lasser asked.

'This is our Bobby,' Tilly said with a proud smile.

'How are you, Mum?' Lizzie asked her face creased in concern.

'I'm fine, love, now you give us the baby and I'll make myself scarce then you two can have a chat.'

Lizzie handed the kid to her mum before sliding a scarf from around her neck. 'So, what's this all about, Lasser?'

He waited until Tilly had left the room, the kid on her hip.

'Have you ever heard of Donald Elliot?'

'I don't think so; why he is the one you think killed our Joe?'

Lasser nodded, 'And Mary Sheldon and the unknown female.'

'Have you caught him yet?'

'Last night, we found him staying at Mary's house.'

Lizzie sat down on the sofa before folding her hands in her lap. 'So what happens now?'

'Well, we've got enough to charge him for the murder of Sarah Clark.'

Lizzie frowned. 'But it said on the news that she'd been attacked on a country lane near Rivington.'

By the time Lasser had explained his theory about Sarah Clark still being alive after taking the drug, Lizzie's face was cold with anger. '
Sick bastard
,' she hissed.

'We're still gathering evidence and like you said it looked as if Mary was staying somewhere else rather than at the house in Leigh, and I was wondering if you had any ideas?'

'Christ, Lasser, it's been two years since I left the force.'

'I realise that but you know what it's like, people like Mary tend not to make too many new friends.'

Lizzie nodded. 'Well, like I told you before, she didn't have any long term partner, in fact, I got the impression that she didn't trust men, didn't like them.'

'Hardly surprising.'

'Well yeah, but that's not what I mean, you see I think she preferred the company of other women.'

Lasser pursed his lips as the penny dropped. 'Was there anyone in particular?'

'Kylie Frodsham.'

'The girl with the violent ex?'

'Yeah, I mean, I never asked Mary about it but I'm pretty sure they were seeing one another at the time.'

'Any idea where she was living?'

Lizzie thought for a moment. 'I know she had a house on the Hag Fold estate, but she could have moved on by now.'

'Right, I'll look into it.'

'Hang on you don't think she had anything to do with what happened do you?'

Lasser slid the car keys from his pocket. 'No, it's nothing like that I just want to know why nobody reported Mary missing.'

'And you think that Kylie might be able to help you?'

'To be honest, Liz, this is just me clutching at straws, I mean, Kylie and Mary might have separated...'

'Or they could have had an argument and Kylie thinks Mary is still at the house in Leigh?'

Lasser frowned. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

'For all you know she might think Mary's still alive.'

'
Shit
.'

Lizzie eased back in the chair. 'I'm glad I got out of the job, Lasser.'

'I can't say I blame you.'

'You're a bright guy why do you stay?'

Lasser stood up and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, the muscles in his shoulders ached with stress. 'Believe me, Lizzie, that's a question that I ask myself on a daily basis.'

'You'll let me know how you go on?'

Lasser picked his jacket up from the chair arm. 'Of course and if you can think of anything else then you can ring me anytime.'

She sighed and nodded before standing up then brushed her lips across his cheek. '
Good luck
,' she said with a sad smile.

56

Emma could smell her own fear in the confines of the car, a stale mixture of sweat and tears.

'Why are you doing this?' she asked in a low trembling voice.

The car was parked on top of the hill overlooking the reservoirs below; up here, a stiff wind tossed the tufted grass of the surrounding moorland, grey clouds scuttled across a sky that seemed to be growing darker by the minute.

'Shut your mouth - I'm trying to
think,'
he snarled.

Ever since she'd answered the door her life had suddenly become the stuff of nightmares. She tried to remember what she'd said as he led her to the car, Emma had a vague recollection of trying to pull away and then his hand had gripped her arm with frightening strength. She'd looked around at the other houses in the cul-de-sac but there had been no one on any of the drives, no one to call out to for help.

They'd spent the night in a lay-by, her fear escalating as she was forced to listen to his irrational ramblings. He'd questioned her about Medea, demanding to know why she had gone to a friend's house rather than that of her father.

'Does she know about us?' he asked.

Emma had snapped her mouth open to give an honest reply and then for some strange reason she'd changed her mind. 'She knows all about you, your name, where we live, the way you've treated me...'

His hand had lashed out in the gloom catching the side of her face with a crack.
'Why can’t women keep things to themselves?'
he'd hissed as though he was asking himself a question that had no answer.