Blood Bought Page 3

  Shaun blushed slightly as Lasser looked at him with his keen dark eyes.

  'I'm waffling, aren't I?'

  'No, you're thinking through various scenarios and that's always a good thing,' Lasser replied as he closed the boot with a thump. 'Right, we need to know who the car belongs to then we can take it from there.'

  Shaun nodded and headed back to the squad car.

  Pulling out his cigarettes, Lasser glanced up at the sky then sparked up, the smoke trapped beneath the hood of his jacket for a few seconds before dissipating into the wet morning air.

  5

  Feeding loose change into the coffee machine, Odette tapped at the buttons and waited for the machine to fire into gurgling life.

  Bannister sat at an empty table in the deserted station café, loosening his tie he rubbed at his tired eyes as Odette placed the drink in front of him and sat down opposite.

  Easing back, he took a sip and grimaced at the taste, 'So, what do you think?'

  They had spent the last hour questioning the Bunting brothers, though neither of them had revealed where Randal Archer was hiding.

  It turned out the mystery man was called Jim Crow, another small-time dealer, who had been hiding a bag of weed stuffed down the front of his jeans and strips of amphetamines in his socks.

  'To be honest, if they knew where Archer was then I think they would have grassed him up,' she replied, taking a sip from the plastic cup.

  Bannister looked at her, a scowl forming on his face. 'Randal Archer is the only possible lead we have…'

  'But it's tenuous at best. Fair enough he was on King Street just before Minnie Burrows vanished but that doesn't mean he was involved.'

  'According to Lasser, Archer is no killer, in fact we spoke to a couple of working girls and they said he wasn't really into sex, he preferred it if they gave his arse a crack with the old cat o' nine tails.'

  Odette raised an eyebrow. 'Takes all sorts I suppose.'

  Placing the cup on the table, the DCI folded his arms. 'The truth is we're struggling here, we suspect Minnie was on the game but as far as we can gather she was working alone.'

  'No pimp?'

  'Doesn't look like it.'

  'What about regular clients?'

  'Difficult to find out, working alone meant the other girls didn't know much about her.'

  'Did she work from home?'

  Bannister looked towards the window, the rain was streaming down the glass distorting the view. 'I doubt it, she has two small kids and every time she went out she paid a teenage neighbour to look after them.'

  'What about family?'

  'Mother and father live over in Whelley, they refuse to believe their daughter was working as a prostitute, and to be honest we're not one hundred percent sure she was even taking money for sex.'

  'It's a tough one,' Odette admitted.

  The DCI smiled at her sadly. 'Anyway, how did the holiday go?'

  'Good.'

  'What about the weather?'

  'Changeable.'

  Bannister nodded sagely. 'Sunshine one minute, pissing it down the next.'

  'Yeah, but we found a couple of nice pubs, so it wasn't too bad.'

  'We?'

  Odette closed her eyes for a moment, her lips set in a thin line. 'I met some fellow hikers and we spent some time together.'

  Bannister yawned and finished the drink in one long swallow. 'Always best not to wander off alone up there.'

  'Truth be told I didn't want to come back,' she admitted.

  Bannister looked out of the window at the dismal view. 'I keep telling Lasser to have a holiday but he's either too tight-fisted to spend the money or he loves this shithole place too much.'

  'I told him the same thing,' she paused for a moment unsure whether she should say what she was thinking. 'I wondered if the idea of going alone is something he's not too keen on.'

  Bannister swivelled his eyes towards her. 'He could have gone with you.'

  Odette looked at the plastic cup on the table. 'I just needed a break from the place.'

  'You mean from living with Lasser?'

  She looked up to find the DCI looking at her keenly and felt the heat in her cheeks. 'I never said that.'

  'Come on, Odette, it can't be easy working together and living under the same roof.'

  'We get along fine,' she said defensively.

  'I know you do, but now he has Karen Miller living there as well…'

  'You think the neighbours will talk?' she asked with a smile.

  Bannister's face slipped into a deeper scowl. 'I just mean we all need our own space from time to time.'

  'Yes, well, my mother and brother finally moved out of my apartment last week so I'm going to start spending more time over there.'

  'Does Lasser know?'

  'He knew this was only a temporary arrangement until they moved out. I can't be paying rent on the flat and helping Lasser out with the bills as well.'

  'You mean the bugger's been charging you for staying at his place?' Bannister's voice rose in shock.

  Odette pointed a finger at her boss. 'I insisted he took the money, he never wanted to take a penny, but I wasn't going to live there, and sponge off him.'

  Bannister looked at her finger and nodded slowly. 'Fair enough.'

  'I don't want you coming out with any snide remarks about paying the rent or bills.'

  'I would never do that!'

  Odette gave him the cold stare until the DCI grinned at her sheepishly. 'OK, I promise, no snide remarks.'

  When his phone rang he pulled it from his pocket. 'Speak of the devil,' he said as he tapped the speaker icon. 'Morning, Sergeant, how did it go?'

  'The guy was murdered, I've been talking to Doc Shannon and he showed me the stab wound, one blow and the guy would have bled to death in no time.'

  'But I thought it was a bloody RTA?' Bannister asked, confused.

  By the time Lasser had explained about the unfortunate Clifton Marple, Bannister looked agog.

  'How the hell can you run over someone's head like that?'

  'Apparently, he was fiddling with the radio – to be fair it's pissing it down and…'

  'Don't make excuses for the fool, he should have been watching the road, not trying to tune the bloody radio!'

  'Anyway, I found the victim's car about a mile away parked up on the Hall car park, I've asked Shaun to find out who it belongs to and then we can look into it.'

  'And you said there was money on the ground near the body?' Bannister asked.

  Odette finished her drink and tossed her cup into the bin.

  'Yeah, I spotted a few tenners but SOCO will sort that.'

  'It wasn't a robbery then?'

  Lasser started to explain his theory, about how the dead man had chased someone through the woods and paid the ultimate price.

  'I might have known you've have a crackpot theory ready. So, is it worth me coming down there or not?'

  'Probably not. Shannon will have the body moved shortly and apart from that there's bugger all to see.'

  Bannister looked at the foul weather beyond the window and sighed in relief.

  'How did it go with the Buntings?'

  'Slippery buggers told us sod all. Odette thinks they're clueless about Archer's whereabouts and if that's the case then we're stumped.'

  'Well, if there's nothing else on I might have a ride around some of Archer's old haunts.'

  'OK but keep your phone on.'

  'Will do.'

  The phone flashed, and the screen went dark.

  'Right, Odette, let's have another word with the Buntings before we turn them loose.'

  Dropping his cup into the bin, they crossed the room unenthusiastically, the rain continued to lash at the window. Pulling open the door, Bannister let Odette go first before glancing at the window, he pictured Lasser out in the rain, no doubt the sergeant would have forgotten to take a waterproof jacket and by now he would resemble a drowned rat. Suddenly, he was smiling as he followed Ode
tte down the corridor.

  6

  The woman sat at the table closest to the window of the coffee shop watching people scurry by as they tried to find shelter from the rain.

  Those who had umbrellas took their time, the ones without dashed about like rats deserting a sinking ship, some entered the shop with sour faces, pushing wet hair from their eyes. She started to wonder what their lives were like, did they lead a normal life or were any like her, had any of them been…? Shaking her head, she dismissed such maudlin thoughts and concentrated on her to-do list.

  Coffee machines bubbled and hissed, filling the air with the tantalising aroma of freshly ground beans.

  Taking a sip from the cup, she pulled out her phone and checked her emails, scrolling through the list, scowling slightly at the disappointing response, before deleting the contents of the inbox. All but one which she would read again at home.

  Five minutes later, she had finished her drink; rising from the chair she weaved her way around the tables, hovering in the doorway looking out into the rain before stepping into the downpour. Flicking up the collar of her jacket, she turned left and walked up the now-deserted street.

  Rain bounced off the flags as her booted feet took her towards the junction.

  The gutters ran with water, the litter-clogged drains struggling with the continuous downpour. Reaching the pedestrian crossing, she paused as a bus rumbled by, the occasional ghostly face peering at her through the steamed-up windows.

  Checking the coast was clear she crossed the street and started up the hill past the shops, one of the doorways had a homeless occupant sitting scrunched up inside a blue, grubby-looking sleeping bag. She broke her stride to hand over a ten-pound note. The elderly man looked up at her in surprise and then his face broke into a toothless grin.

  'Ta, love, you're a grand lass.'

  She returned the smile before sliding her hands into her pockets and walking away, her stride long and purposeful as if she were in a rush to get somewhere.

  7

  Lasser grimaced as the truck went by, the draft buffeting him as he looked down at the spot where Minnie Burrows had been dumped. He had spent the morning trawling the town centre looking for Archer, heading in and out of the bookies and pubs and coming up blank at every turn.

  The grass was still flattened, the ground once more littered with rubbish thrown from passing cars. He thought of Minnie sprawled there and felt his anger start to rise. After she had been found, Lasser had gone to break the news to her parents but had left the hard stuff to Sally Wright who seemed to have a knack for delivering a death message.

  He had stood in the doorway to the small, neat bungalow and watched as their world fell apart. He thought back to other parents, other houses, as the news was broken to them that their loved one was dead.

  The wind slapped the hood against his head and he grabbed it with one hand as he looked towards the strip of woodland that grew close to the roadside.

  Respectfully circumnavigating the spot where she had been found, he headed through the tall grass, within seconds his trousers were wet and clinging to him.

  It was like stepping into another world, the trees were huge, no doubt they had formed part of some ancient forest before Wigan flourished during the industrial revolution and industry took over from farming. He stopped for a moment, the sound of the traffic passing on the road was now muted, the light beneath the trees felt grainy with age.

  Most of the leaves had fallen and he trod carefully on the leaf-slippery ground as he moved deeper into the woodland. The path weaved its way around the larger trees, to his right he could see wide tyre marks – no doubt made by some off-road vehicle ploughing through the mud.

  When he spotted the first of the condom wrappers he shook his head and paused for a second to light a cigarette, his eyes scanning the path as he took a long pull.

  After two hundred yards, the cigarette had been smoked, he flicked it into the grass and carried on along the narrow path, the vehicle track had vanished, replaced by tall ferns that shifted slightly in the stiff breeze.

  Half a minute later, he came to a halt, his narrowed eyes widening as he spotted the mattress on the ground. The surrounding area had been flattened, he could see clumps of tissues scattered here and there, along with dozens of empty condom wrappers, the rubbers themselves were everywhere. Some even dangled from the low branches of the oak that towered over the scene.

  The mattress was stained yellow and brown and Lasser grimaced in disgust as he thrust the repulsive images from his mind. He could see ants and woodlice crawling over the surface, over to his right were half a dozen scrunched-up grey towels.

  On the lowest of the branches were two lengths of thin nylon rope set about four feet apart, they dangled down for a couple of feet ending in loops.

  'Dirty buggers,' he spat as he imagined someone standing with their wrists bound through the loops, while the others…

  Pulling out his phone he snapped off some pictures, checking each one before saving it. He thought back to a week earlier to when Minnie had been found a few hundred yards from where he now stood. He knew that the grass had been flattened from the road to where she had been dumped so they had assumed that her killer had simply parked up and dragged her body from the car before driving away.

  Now, however, he looked at the makeshift dogging area, the scowl on his face deepening as he moved along the path leaving the mattress and soiled towels behind. The ferns grew closer together – he could hear them brushing against his jacket as he fought his way through. After another thirty feet the path widened, the tyre tracks reappeared, and suddenly the trees gave way to open fields. Lasser paused for a moment, looking out over the grey, rain-lashed landscape before angling left, the path leading back towards the main road, the sound of the traffic increasing with every step.

  When he saw the shoe lodged in the mud he stopped, swiping the rain from his eyes he whipped the hood from his head. Crouching to his haunches he hooked a finger around the sharp heel and pulled it from the gloop of mud.

  Closing his eyes, he pictured Minnie sprawled on the wet earth, her skirt hitched up, raped and strangled, her feet bare, the toenails painted bright orange.

  'Fucker!' he growled as he opened his eyes and looked down at the shoe.

  Seconds later, he was on his feet, his finger stabbing at the phone, his face set with molten fury.

  8

  Lasser sat on the edge of the bed, aimlessly rubbing at his wet hair with a towel.

  He had spent the afternoon in the narrow strip of woodland with Carl and the rest of the SOCO team while they collected the used condoms and bagged the towels for evidence.

  Bannister and Odette had arrived within the hour and the woods had been searched by a team of officers looking for further clues.

  The DCI had looked at the shoe encased in the clear evidence bag, his eyes flashing with anger as he stared around the tissue-strewn area.

  'Why wasn't this found earlier?'

  Lasser had shrugged, unsure if Bannister expected an answer.

  'We have to assume that Minnie Burrows was here at some stage then,' Odette had offered.

  'Well, the shoe matches the description of what she was wearing the night she died,' Lasser replied.

  The rain had continued to blast down, though Bannister remained dry beneath the huge brolly, Odette stood to one side looking out from beneath the hood of her jacket. Lasser had long since given up on staying dry, his hood was thrown back, his jacket starting to leak.

  The white-suited SOCO team were painstakingly hunting down the condoms – Lasser had pulled a face as Carl peeled one from the trunk of the oak.

  'The question is did she die here, if so, then why dump the body so close to the murder scene and where is the other shoe?' Bannister asked.

  'When you look at the number of condoms this place must have been used regularly and by way more than one person,' Odette said.

  Bannister grunted in agreement. 'Can you see
a woman coming here of her own accord to have sex with strangers on a filthy mattress, because I bloody can't?'

  'Perhaps she was forced here and killed.'

  The DCI had looked at Odette before jamming his hands into his pockets.

  'If she was then there must have been more than one person involved in her death,' Lasser stated.

  Bannister had thrown him his usual sour frown. 'Why do you always jump to conclusions like that?'

  'Look, you just said yourself you can't see any woman coming here through choice, so like Odette just said she could have been forced here and if it was just one person then why bring her to this spot? And how would they restrain her on their own, driving a car and then get her here without being seen? They evidently knew this place existed. They have a bloody mattress, so this place is used often and by lots of people, with enough condoms to stretch to the moon and back.'

  'Don't exaggerate,' Bannister had snapped.

  When Odette's phone started to trill she pulled it from her pocket and checked the screen before walking away from the pair of them, the phone held beneath her hood, her voice muted.

  'Plus, we have no way of knowing if she was raped once or multiple times by different men, she…'

  'Has Shannon not sorted that yet?' Bannister interrupted.

  'Give the guy a chance, he's not been back at work long and whoever killed her forced a bottle of bleach into…'

  'I know what happened!' Bannister growled.

  Lasser saw a couple of SOCO men glance over their shoulders, their eyes widening at the sound of raised voices.

  Now, Lasser rose from the bed and tossed the towel into the washing basket in the corner of the room before dressing in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a black T-shirt. He headed downstairs to the kitchen, to find Karen baking, smudges of flour on her cheeks as she kneaded the dough.

  Looking up, she smiled, and Lasser marvelled how relaxed she had become over these last few months. Prior to staying at the house, she had been living on the streets, her life in tatters, resigned to never getting back on track. Now, Lasser gave her a weekly amount and she did the cooking and cleaning and stayed in the spare room.