Driven by Fear (The DS Lasser Book 27) Page 17

  'You're in luck,' he claimed as he lifted the bottle free and grabbed two glasses from a cupboard. 'Please, take a seat,' he said as he poured them both a glass before adding ice from the dispenser and carrying them over.

  'Thanks,' Lasser said before taking a sip.

  Jepson sat down opposite. 'Now, how can I help?'

  'To be honest we're not sure you can,' Bannister admitted with a sigh.

  'Well, like I said, I heard about the accident on the news, but I haven't been over to that area in quite some time.'

  'Dyer said you own over fifty thousand acres of land,' Lasser said as he took another sip from the glass, the ice cubes tinkling.

  'People always like to exaggerate,' Jepson said as he eased back in the chair. 'Truth is it's around forty-five thousand not fifty, I know it' still obscene, though the family do own land in Scotland and some in Cumbria.'

  'Why do you call it obscene?' Bannister enquired.

  For the first time the smile slipped from Jepson's face and for a moment he looked genuinely pained. 'When you come from a family as old as this one then let's just say that some of my ancestors left a lot to be desired.'

  'Meaning?' Lasser asked placing the glass on the table.

  Jepson looked at him and then sighed heavily. 'All property is theft,' he paused, 'anyone with an ounce of sense knows that.'

  Lasser felt the surprise at Jepson's admission, and he thought back to Bannister saying the same thing to the strutting Dyer earlier.

  'Not often someone is willing to admit to that,' the DCI said with a hint of admiration in his voice.

  Jepson shrugged. 'As much as it pains me, I have to admit that initially my family profited via the slave trade, there's no escaping that fact and no excuse for it. I'm ashamed of that part of our history although to be honest most wealthy families who can trace their roots back into history are the same. The wealth all stems from the manipulation of others, either that or crushing some rebellion against whatever monarch was in power at the time, unfortunately, the Jepson family have done both and were rewarded for their questionable actions.'

  'That's hardly your fault though,' Bannister said.

  Jepson lifted his shoulders in a shrug. 'Let's just say I feel the stigma and in an ideal world I would change that but unfortunately I cannot. As for the land, well in all honesty a lot of the tenants would struggle to make a living if they actually owned the land they farm.'

  'Yet they still pay you rent for the privilege,' Lasser said, his eyes fixed on Jepson's face.

  'Highly reduced rents,' Jepson corrected. 'It's my way of trying to help them out, take the Dyer family, they pay half of what other landlords would charge, believe me I know that to be a fact.'

  'Because your mates charge their tenants more than you do?'

  Jepson looked at Lasser keenly for a moment before nodding. 'Fortunately, I am not reliant on the income from the farms, whereas some of the people I know are, and they turn the screw on those who pay rent.'

  'So, how do you make your money?' Bannister asked, his drink remaining untouched.

  'Well, by the time I inherited all this I was already running a company that kept things ticking over nicely.'

  'What kind of company?'

  'Started out with chemicals then diversified into IT, you have to keep up with the times, that's what a lot of old money families can't grasp, they stay locked in the past and that way leads to disaster.'

  'Did you ever come across Lord Radfield?' Lasser suddenly asked.

  Jepson nodded. 'Terrible affair.'

  'They were skint, they'd been selling off land for generations, and then of course you have the loose cannons, the ones who plunder the family fortune, thinking it will never run out.'

  'Believe me, Sergeant, we have had more than our share of ancestors who fit that bill, fortunately they didn't bankrupt the family, though we have come close on a couple of occasions.'

  'I take it you have other properties in the family portfolio?' Bannister asked as he at last picked up the glass and took a sip.

  'That's correct, there's an estate in Scotland and one in the lakes and, oh yes, some land in Wales,' he finished, the smile once more back on his face.

  'You own land in Wales?'

  Jepson waved a languid hand in the air. 'A few acres and a cottage, the family who live there use the place as a garden centre, it does well for them in the summer months.'

  'North or south Wales?'

  'North, the place is in the Snowdonia National Park.'

  'And when was the last time you paid these tenants a visit?' Lasser asked.

  Jepson pursed his lips in thought. 'God, now you are going back, but I'd say it has to be around the ten-year mark.'

  'That's a long time between visits,' Bannister said.

  His lordship stretched out his long legs beneath the table and stifled a yawn. 'As I said, the acreage is not a money-making enterprise, the people who run the farms and other concerns are stewards of the land and they understand that. On the whole they love what they do, they love the land, the open country, they make a living, and I am more than happy with that.'

  'The other companies you run keep you busy then?'

  Jepson lifted his shoulders in a shrug. 'I know very little about IT and next to nothing about the chemical industry, but I spotted a gap in the market at the right time and invested heavily, but I could never run either of the businesses, that's why I have experts in charge, I have little interest in commerce.'

  'Then how do you fill your time?'

  'Oh, believe me there's always something to keep me busy,' Jepson beamed once more.

  'We've identified the hit-and-run victim,' Lasser suddenly said as he leaned forward slightly.

  Jepson appeared surprised at the admission. 'Really, they never mentioned that on the news.'

  'I should hope not, the information hasn't been released yet.'

  'Ah, I see,' Jepson said with a nod of understanding.

  'Her name was Julie Emmeret, and we know that she went missing from North Wales four months ago, in fact, her car was found abandoned in Snowdonia National Park.'

  'That's terrible,' Jepson said, his expression one of sorrow. 'I had no idea the woman was even missing, I mean, do you have any idea where she's been all this time.'

  'We're working on it,' Lasser replied as he drained the glass.

  'How strange that she should vanish in Wales and turn up here on Hamley Road.'

  'She didn't turn up on Hamley Road, she was killed there,' Bannister corrected.

  'Yes, yes of course,' Jepson nodded in agreement.

  'We've tracked her movements across open country, and we're convinced that she was being chased at the time of her death,' Bannister tilted his head slightly, his eyes keen as he looked at his lordship.

  'But why on earth would someone have been chasing her?'

  'We're not sure yet, but we're getting closer,' the DCI lied.

  Jepson thought for a moment before replying. 'Well, let's hope you catch them, whoever they are.'

  Bannister gave Lasser the nod and they both rose to their feet.

  'Right, thank you for your help, Mr Jepson,' Bannister said.

  'Well, truth is I've offered very little in the way of assistance, I only wish I could be more useful.'

  They said nothing as they headed across the kitchen, once outside, Jepson closed the door and smiled at them again.

  'Well, good luck with your investigation and again, if you think I can help in any way then you know where to find me,' he said before walking away over the manicured grass, whistling as he went.

  They headed back to the car in silence, once behind the wheel, Lasser fired the engine to life as Bannister lit a couple of cigarettes.

  'What do you reckon?' the DCI asked as he handed one over.

  'I never fully trust the filthy rich,' Lasser replied in an instant.

  'I know that, but you have to admit he was honest about how his family came by their fortune.'


  Dropping the handbrake, Lasser pulled forward through the deep gravel. 'I noticed he added the fact that he owns a place in Wales at the last minute.'

  'It's a garden centre, Lasser, and Snowdonia is a big place.'

  Lasser said nothing as they moved onto the lane.

  'I don't like any of this, Rea Lomax missing, Julie Emmeret dead, Draper taken, and we know sod all.'

  Lasser slid the window down and the smoke drifted out into the bright afternoon sunshine. 'Well, we know that whoever took Julie kept her for four months, and to do that you need somewhere way off the beaten track, and you need to be able to keep an eye on them.'

  'You mean someone with lots of land and time on their hands, don't you?' Bannister asked.

  'Got it in one,' Lasser replied as he changed gear.

  'Someone like Jepson?'

  'Well, he has the cash and the time and…'

  'Clutching at straws again,' Bannister interrupted.

  Lasser sighed heavily and nodded. 'Perhaps you're right.'

  'I'm always right.'

  Lasser made no comment.

  51

  Odette let herself into the flat, slipping off her coat as Roger looked up at her from the sofa, the laptop across his knees.

  'Have you moved at all today?' she asked with a smile.

  Roger looked sheepish and nodded. 'I've been busy, the tea's cooking and I've run the hoover around the flat.'

  'You didn't have to do that,' she rubbed a hand at the knot in her neck.

  'I've been looking into Julie Emmeret's background.'

  'Find anything?'

  'Well, she was a very keen runner, had ten marathons under her belt and did a lot of fell running.'

  Odette thought about what he was saying as she hung her jacket over the back of the chair. 'Anything else?'

  'It was her job to ride around Snowdonia, checking on paths and fences, making reports, and organising anything that needed fixing. Before that she had a keen interest in plants and flowers, you know horticulture, she worked at a garden centre for a few years before getting the job with the council.'

  'Outdoor type of woman then.'

  'You could say that,' he paused, 'it just got me to thinking about how she died.'

  She sat down by his side and stretched out her legs before stifling a yawn. 'I'm listening.'

  'Well, are we sure she was being chased?'

  'As sure as we can be, we know she dashed out in front of Draper's car and then Rea Lomax was taken, so there had to be someone else there when it happened, so yeah, we think she was being chased.'

  'OK, then, if that's true then whoever was doing the chasing must have been very fit, otherwise they would never have caught up with her.'

  Odette thought about what he was saying her, brow creased slightly. 'Truth is, we still can't be sure if she was deliberately released or whether she escaped her captor.'

  Roger sighed and nodded. 'OK, but what about Draper?'

  'Still no sign of the man.'

  'But the guy who took him was big right?'

  Reaching down Odette slipped out of her shoes before curling her legs onto the sofa. 'According to the reporter, Gemma Fox, he was a beast of a man.'

  'So hardly athletic, hardly a runner?'

  Odette looked at him and smiled sadly. 'We don't even know if Draper's disappearance has anything to do with those who took Rea Lomax, they might not even be linked.'

  Roger looked crestfallen, his shoulders sagging. 'I keep thinking I'm missing something.'

  'We all feel that way at the moment, but one thing we can say is that whoever took Julie Emmeret kept her for four months and there was no sign of physical abuse, which means her abductor didn't do this on a whim and it was Draper who ran her down, so we have no idea why Julie was being held in the first place or what her captors' real intentions were.'

  'It's just so bloody bizarre,' Roger said with a shake of the head.

  'Well, for now we just have to hope that we unearth some kind of clue to follow.'

  Placing the laptop on the coffee table, he leaned forward. 'And what if we don't?'

  'Come on, people like this always make a mistake somewhere along the line and when they do then we act on that mistake and chase them down.'

  Roger thought about what she was saying though he couldn't shift the thought that whoever was responsible for all this was careful in everything they did.

  Seconds later, Odette's phone rang, and she went over to the chair to pull it free from her jacket pocket.

  'It's Alan,' she said before tapping at the screen and putting the phone on loudspeaker.

  'All right, Odette, how's it going?'

  'Nothing much to report,' she replied.

  Roger heard Bannister sigh heavily.

  'I take it you're the same?' she asked, although she suspected she already knew the answer.

  'Did you know we had a lord residing in the area?' the DCI asked.

  Odette glanced at Roger who lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

  'Lord Jepson, has the biggest bloody house we've ever seen.'

  'In Wigan?' Odette asked looking puzzled.

  'Wrightington, he owns the land where Julie Emmeret was killed. In fact, he seems to own most of the land around here.'

  When Odette looked towards Roger, she smiled to see him lifting the laptop back onto his knees, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard, no doubt checking up on Lord Jepson.

  'Is Roger with you?' Bannister asked.

  'Already researching Jepson as we speak,' she replied.

  'Top man.'

  'So, I take it you've been to see this Jepson?'

  'Spoke to him about half an hour ago, we found out he owns the land and to be honest we didn't have a clue what else to do,' Bannister admitted.

  Odette heard the frustration in his voice and pictured his face set in a scowl of frustration.

  'We know what you mean, I've been trying to find out more about Draper, but the guy was clean.'

  'Right well, tomorrow I want you to go and have a word with Brewster, he was there when Draper was taken, and I know he said he saw bugger-all but grill the bastard, Odette, take Spenner with you, you never know he might slip up.'

  'Will do.'

  'And if Roger comes up with anything unusual then give either me or Lasser a bell.'

  'OK.'

  'Right, I'm off home, so hopefully speak later.'

  The screen went blank, and Odette slipped it into her pocket, when she looked at Roger, he was hunched over the laptop, his eyes scanning the screen, his face locked in concentration.

  'I'll put the kettle on,' she said.

  Roger never even heard her as he continued to read.

  52

  Charles Jepson sat in the rocking chair as the last of the sun bled away, the darkness beneath the trees shifting and moving as day slowly slipped into night.

  'Lasser and Bannister,' he said, the names aloud and felt the thrill skitter through his mind.

  The day had been eventful, first there had been the talk with Rea Lomax and the sudden doubt that he had made a mistake in taking her from the roadside, and then Max had mentioned the wife beater, and he had no doubt that his friend would be working on trying to deliver him. Closing his eyes, he thought about Max and smiled, the big man had never let him down, never refused a request no matter how bizarre or problematic.

  That was what loyalty was all about, and Max had the scars to prove his loyalty, plenty of scars, yet he never wavered and for that he was well looked after, cared for, cherished.

  Opening his eyes, he thought about the two detectives who had been to see him, he had seen interesting things in both their characters, though it was the one called Lasser who fascinated him the most.

  After they had left, he had wandered through the woods to the gamekeeper's cottage and pulled out his phone, tapping the name Lasser into the search engine, after much trawling he had found a YouTube clip, and by the time he had finished watching it he had been laughing
long and loud as Michael Brewster was dragged from the canal, looking grotesque with the green slime in his ridiculous hair. Whoever had filmed it had known what they were doing, taking a close-up of the reporter looking both furious and terrified before cutting to Lasser, his face had been expressionless and yet Jepson was sure he caught a hint of satisfaction in the dark eyes and the slight twist of the mouth.

  'I need to know more about you, Sergeant, you interest me,' he mumbled as he stared out into the darkness.

  When they had been in the kitchen and he had been giving them a brief history lesson about his family, he had seen the look of contempt in both their eyes, but Lasser had been the one who had seemed to be hiding genuine anger, as though he didn't believe that anyone should be rich and the only way they got to be that way was by trampling over others and ruining people's lives. Of course, that was basically true, and he had admitted as much as they sat at the kitchen table. Long ago, Jepson had learned to embrace the past and more importantly to tell people about it. Explaining how the family succeeded in times when people lived in rags, and you could be hung for stealing a loaf of bread. He had friends who thought he was mad, wealthy friends from old families who railed against his advice to always tell the truth about their history.

  'Good God, Charles, are you totally mad?' was the normal stock response.

  They seemed incapable of admitting and owning their history.

  As far as Jepson was concerned, they were fools, the more you denied your past, or tried to keep it hidden then the bigger the scandal if it were to ever surface.

  He thought of the interview he had done with Brewster almost ten years earlier and even back then he had been aware of what the reporter had really been after, he'd had no real interest in any charitable works that Jepson undertook, no, all he had been after was the scandal, the gossip, the dirt.

  At the time he had almost had Max snatch the man, but he had known that Brewster would have been useless, he was a coward, cowards could be vicious, but they were always weak, they never shone, never gave off any light or spark of survival. So, he had let him be and yet now as he sat in the dark he wondered if it was time to conduct another interview with the reporter, get the dirt on this Lasser character and see where it led.