Vanished Beneath: DS Lasser six (The Lasser series Book 6) (37 page)

Bob Snorted. 'I tell you I've been in this place for over twenty years, I've seen blokes ready to kill one another, but I've always managed to sort it. But with girls it's different, no offence but you lot are like bloody animals.'

Lasser smiled at Odette who frowned in return.

'
You lot
,' she parroted.

Bob blinked at her. 'Aye women, women are ten times worse than blokes. I mean, you can't kick a woman's arse onto the street, lay a hand on em and they accuse you of all sorts.'

'So you called us instead?' Lasser asked.

'To be honest I don't really know what happened, one minute they was sat there next thing I know Sharon was going for this other girl with a broken bottle. I tell you some of em shouldn't be allowed to drink out of anything other than them baby cups, you know the sort with the little holes on top.'

'We get the idea Bob. Now what about the girl she attacked, had you seen her before?'

'Aye, but before you ask I don't know her name.'

Odette slid her ponytail over one shoulder. 'You said Sharon was with another girl.'

'I did.'

'So?'

Bob nodded. 'Sarah Clark.'

Lasser felt the noise of the pub diminish around him. 'Are you sure about that Bob?'

'Course I'm bloody sure, her dad used to drink in here seven nights a week and Sarah would hang around outside pestering him for cash.'

Lasser felt someone move up to his shoulder. 'Come on Bob stop gassing and pull me a pint.'

Bob flapped a hand. 'The usual Steve?'

Taking hold of Odette's arm Lasser steered her along the bar.

'Sarah Clark was the girl killed by Donald Elliot,' he said in a low voice.

'The girl dumped on the country lane?'

Lasser looked at her in surprise. 'Bannister was right it doesn't take
you
long to get up to speed does it?'

Odette shrugged. 'I've read the files it's not rocket science.'

'The women knew one another and both end up dead with the same mixture of drugs in their system.'

'Well isn't that what you suspected?'

Lasser pursed his lips. 'More like guesswork really, but now at least we know two of them were connected.'

'So what about the others?'

By the time Lasser had finished explaining his theory about the killer working to a list a frown had formed on her face.

'Well like you said, at least now we know Clark and Cliff were friends.'

Lasser nodded thoughtfully. 'So who would want to kill them both?'

'Well the barman said he caught Sharon sniffing Coke in the toilets.'

'Yeah and we know that in the past Clark had been a user, but Colly Roberts told me she'd been clean for months.'

'He was the guy who took the jump from the flats?'

Lasser nodded. 'Yeah, that's the one.'

'So maybe he lied to you, I mean, he hardly sounds the stable type?'

'So are you having another drink or what?' Bob suddenly reappeared, a frown on his lugubrious face.

'No thanks Bob we only came in for the company.'

Bob's sour face twisted in disgust. 'Typical, you come in here spend a couple of quid and then bugger off.'

Someone started to scream, a high-pitched wailing sound that seemed to ricochet off the nicotine stained walls.

Lasser snapped around in time to see a man with fair hair come reeling out of the gents. Staggering to the left, he collided with the fruit machine by the toilet door and collapsed to the floor.

One or two people stood up in surprise, most carried on sipping their beers watching the man with disinterested eyes.

Lasser felt Odette brush past him as she dashed across the room.

Then the scream went up another notch and Lasser bolted after her.

By the time he'd weaved his way around the tables Odette was on her knees by the side of the fair haired man.

His eyes rolled back and then he vomited a stream of dark blood onto the beer tacky carpet.

Odette reached down and grasped an arm and leg before flicking him onto his side.

Lasser already had his phone out stabbing at the screen as he watched the man twitch and jerk.

'
Ambulance
,
Wigan
,
the Victoria public house on the High Street,'
he paused to listen for a moment.
'No I don't know what's the matter with him, but he's vomiting blood and going into seizure, '
another pause,
'right make it quick,'
he said as he ended the call.

'What's up with him?' Bob asked looking down with panicked eyes.

The man's back arched, his arms and legs rigid and then he started to thrash out wildly.

Odette threw herself over his legs in an effort to pin him to the floor, Lasser fell down beside her and grabbed the man's arms.

The body started to buck as if he were trying to dislodge them both.

'Shit!'
Noble hissed as one leg shot free and slammed into a table sending half a dozen empty pint pots to the floor.

Lasser grimaced as he looked at the man's face; his mouth locked open, his jaw slick with dark blood. Then he screamed again and his mouth started to snap open and closed, the teeth clattering together with enamel shattering force.

Odette clawed for the free leg that seemed to twist and jerk at right angles then suddenly he flopped back and lay still, blood continued to run from his open mouth.

Lasser could feel the sweat on his back, sticking the shirt to his tacky skin. Odette looked at him wide eyed before blowing a strand of wayward hair from her eyes.

Reaching down Lasser felt tentatively along the jaw line searching for a pulse.

'
Anything
?' Odette asked.

Lasser concentrated for a moment before giving a quick shake of the head.

In the distance they could hear the blare of an approaching siren.

'That's quick,' Odette said.

'The ozzie's only half a mile away,' Lasser explained as he sat up on his knees. Odette remained sprawled across the man's legs, her ponytail trailing over one shoulder.

Then the sound of the sirens increased and Lasser spotted the blue light swirling at the grotty lace covered windows.

Ten seconds later the front door banged open and he glanced over his shoulder as the paramedics rushed into the pub.

Odette eased herself back slowly from the man's legs.

'Nice arse,'
someone behind her said and she snapped her head around to glare at the semi-circle of men who stood behind her. Then she turned to Lasser a blush rising up from the collar of her dark blue shirt.

'
Charming
,' she spat.

'Welcome to Wigan.' Lasser sighed.

94

Albie resisted the urge to run, fought the impulse to glance over his shoulder.

He went against the flow of people as they headed towards the Vic to see what all the commotion was about. As soon as he reached Market Street he turned left and entered the deserted shopping mall, a long tunnel lined with empty shops that had been forced to close as the recession gripped the town. Half a minute later he popped out into the Market stalls, the tension gradually easing as he put distance between himself and the Vic.

When he saw the park gates, he hurried across the road and trailed his way along the narrow path before slumping onto the first bench he came to.

Albie looked at his shaking hands and then rubbed them over his face pushing his brown hair back until it stood on end. Looking right and left, he gingerly slipped the syringe from his pocket before tossing it into the long grass at the back of the bench. Then he sniffed before pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one. With a shudder, he pulled the smoke into his lungs, his brain locked solid with fear.

His head dropped as if pushed down by some huge invisible weight.

Two minutes later, Albie dropped the cigarette and sprang to his feet, suddenly he needed to get home and bolt the door, he needed to climb into bed and yank the duvet over his head like a child hiding from an inescapable nightmare.

Albie started to hurry towards the gates, then he broke into a jog, a few seconds later, he was in full flight trying to escape his conscience.

95

Lasser and Odette were standing in the gents of the Vic, suddenly water gushed into the urinal, the yellow toilet blocks bobbed up and down in the sudden rush of water.

Odette moved over to the three cubicles gingerly pushing the doors open and grimacing at the state of the toilet bowls.

Lasser looked into the grimy sink a blob of wet toilet roll blocking the plughole.

'He had to have been on something,'
Odette said as she wiped her hands on the bottom of her jacket.

'Unless he has some kind of medical condition?' Lasser offered.

Odette didn't look convinced.

Then the door opened a fraction, Bob poked his ravaged head into the room. 'Have you found owt?' he asked, his grizzled face creased with concern.

'If you mean drugs Bob then no, the place is clean.' Lasser said.

Bob stepped into the tiled room his cheeks inflated with relief. 'Thank God for that.'

Lasser raised an eyebrow. 'That's all you're concerned about Bob, your licence?'

'Nay lad of course not, but you don't know what the breweries are like, if they get a whiff of owt dodgy then they could try and get shut of me.'

Odette slid her hands into the pockets of her black jacket, her pale ponytail stark against the dark cloth. 'So did you recognise the man?'

'Course I recognised him.'

Lasser waited for the bartender to continue, but Bob stood and looked around the room as if he had never been in the gents before and from the state of the toilets Lasser thought it may well be the truth.

'Bob, we're waiting?'

Bob blinked, '
What
?'

Odette took a step forward until she was standing directly in front of the spindly Landlord. 'You were going to tell us his name Bob?'

'Oh aye, sorry about that I was miles away.'

Odette sighed. 'So go on or should we try and guess?'

Lasser didn't bother hiding the grin.

Bob glared at him for a moment. 'She's more bloody sarcastic than you Lasser and that's saying summat!'

'Just answer the lady Bob; we need to get on.'

'Davy Hancock,' he grumbled.

'Regular?'

The water whooshed again, the ancient pipes rumbled like a distant train.

'Look is he going to be alright?'

Odette leaned forward. 'Did he look alright to you?'

Even in the gloom of the toilets, Lasser could see the blush on old Bob's face. 'Well no but...'

'Was he a regular?' she repeated her voice clipped, the words measured.

'Yeah, yeah he was a regular,' Bob spluttered. 'He's been coming here for years.'

'Did you lock the front door like I asked you to Bob?' Lasser asked.

'Oh right yeah, that's what I came in here for, some of the blokes out there are getting restless, they've got tickets for the match and they wanna know how long you're gonna keep em locked up for?'

Lasser grinned. 'Right, let's go and have a word, see if anyone can remember anything.'

'Listen, how long will this take because the longer you can keep em here the more booze they'll buy?' Bob's greedy little eyes glimmered in anticipation.

Lasser shook his head. '
Unbelievable
,' he muttered as he reached for the door.

'Why, what have I said now?' Bob asked his face a picture of innocence.

Odette brushed past him without saying a word.

96

Beth tried to slam the front door closed, but Dave Pitt shot out a huge hand and grabbed the handle before stepping forward.

'Come on Beth there's no need to be like that,' he said as he stepped into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind him.

Beth took a backward step, her youngest son held on her hip, her eyes glassy with fear.

Pitt seemed to fill the narrow hallway; his head looked tiny perched on top of his huge steroid filled shoulders, his dark eyes glittered with malice.

Beth wiped a hand across her mascara stained eyes. 'Listen I don't know what you're doing here but Donny's dead, I...'

'Yeah love I heard, I bet you feel relieved knowing the little scrote won't be banging on your door anymore?'

The police had called the day before to tell her the news, and despite the hatred she had felt for her ex-partner she had still spent most of the day in floods of tears. Trouble was she couldn't understand why, after all, Donny had been a low life user who had made her life a living hell for over three years, an absent father and an abuser to boot. In the end Dave had gone to the pub, unable to understand why she was upset over his pitiful death.