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

Then he sprang from the sofa as he remembered a conversation they'd had curled up in bed before things had gone bad, before the credit card bills had dropped through the letterbox.

They'd been talking about her life before she came to the big city, she was from Wigan, wherever the hell that was. Suddenly, a name sprang into his fevered brain.

'Medea,'
he said.
'Medea Sullivan.'

Andrew Forbes smiled.

 

13

Armed with carrier bags, Medea and Emma bustled their way into Starbucks.

Frothy coffee ordered they threaded their way to an empty table by the window.

Emma slid into one of the padded chairs and sighed. 'I guess I'm out of practice.'

Medea dropped her bags onto the floor before sitting down. 'I'd have thought living in London you would have been out shopping every day?'

'Come on, Med, you know I'm not the world's best bargain hunter, besides I was always too busy to hit the shops.'

Medea picked up her cup and took a sip. 'What's it really like down there?'

'Hectic.'

'But you must have enjoyed it at some point?'

'Oh I did, but you suddenly realise that you have no time for anything but work. Most days it's twelve, fourteen hours and when the weekend comes you're too tired to do anything but sleep.'

On the counter, one of the coffee machines whooshed to life. 'It sounds grim.'

Emma shrugged. 'You get used to it, but I think it's time for a change. I mean, what's the point in making a fortune when you don't have the time to spend any of it.'

'You should have sent it to me; I wouldn't have a problem spending it for you.'

'If I remember rightly you hated shopping almost as much as I did.'

Medea smiled before taking another sip from her drink. 'Have you heard from your father lately?'

'Not a word.'

'Well, if you do move back up here it might make it easier to keep in touch.'

Emma shook her head. 'It's a nice thought but you know what he's like, besides it would only end in an argument.'

'You never know he might have mellowed.'

Emma looked through the shop window; the pavements were crowded with people bustling about their business. 'I doubt it.'

Medea looked at her friend over the rim of the coffee cup, trying to decide how far she could push the issue. 'Well, you'll never know unless you go and see him. I could come with you if you like?'

'That's kind of you, but for now I want to concentrate on sorting a few things out first. Maybe if the move comes off then I'll give it a try.'

'Well, if you do decide to go then I'm here if you need me.'

Emma suddenly reached across the table and gripped Medea's hand. 'You're a good friend, Med.'

Medea was surprised by the strength of the grip.

 

14

Lasser leaned over Susan Coyle's shoulder and peered at the screen. 'It's hard to tell.'

The image on the screen showed a man standing in a back garden tall with weeds, he had a can of Special Brew clasped in his right hand, a cigarette in the other.

Coyle tapped at a couple of keys. 'Joseph Crank aged forty-seven.'

'Well, the age is about right,' Sally Wright said leaning over and glancing at the image.

'He's been missing for five months, last seen on the Millers Lane estate.'

'Does it say anything about a wife or kids?'

'Sorry, boss, it was his mother who reported him missing, though it doesn't say where he was living at the time.'

'Well, Doc Shannon said the guy had a drink problem,' he tapped a finger against the image on the screen. 'And let's face it, Special Brew is the preferred tipple of all heavy boozers around here.'

'I've got an address for the mother if you want it?'

'Right, give it here and I'll check it out.'

Coyle snatched a yellow post-it note from the pad and scribbled down the address.

'Well, Susan, how do you fancy a ride?'

Sally Wright grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Lasser frowned. 'That came out wrong didn't it?'

Susan looked up and blushed. 'Take no notice, sir, she's got a very twisted mind.'

'
Me
!' Sally looked a picture of innocence.

'I'll meet you outside in five,' Lasser said as he headed for the door, moving into the corridor he heard the sound of laughter following him out of the room.

 

He was just finishing a crafty cigarette when Coyle appeared around the corner of the building.

'Ready whenever you are, sir.'

'Right come on, let's go and see what Mrs Crank has to say about her missing son.' He tossed the cigarette into a patch of dogwood bushes, before yanking the car keys from his pocket.

Beeping off the alarm, he tossed the keys over to Susan. 'You drive, I can feel a headache coming on.'

Susan grinned and climbed behind the wheel, Lasser slid in beside her before snapping his seatbelt into place. 'So how's the boyfriend today?'

'Still in bed moaning that his bone's ache.'

'Ah, the old aching bones. I tell you, Susan, you should be glad you were born a female, at least you don't have to suffer the agony of the aching bones syndrome.'

Coyle looked at him in disbelief, when he grinned she felt the flush of colour in her cheeks.

'
Swine
,' she said.

'Come on chop, chop, I want to get an early finish if possible.'

Coyle pulled off the car park. 'You have something planned?' she asked as they hit the flow of morning traffic.

'Well, we have a guest staying over for a few days and I thought it'd be nice to go out for a meal for a change.'

'Sounds nice.'

'Yeah well, knowing my luck it'll never happen.'

Lasser looked out of the side window as the terraced houses swept by, as they went over the canal bridge he caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark blue narrow boat chugging along the water.

'If it is Crank then it still doesn't explain what he was doing at the bottom of the lake.' Lasser said.

'Maybe the mother will be able to give us some clues?' Coyle said.

Lasser turned to face her.
'Guinea pigs
.'

Coyle frowned. 'Sorry?'

'Three bodies all dumped in the same place, all showing signs of drug abuse.'

'What are you saying?'

'Perhaps Spenner was right; maybe someone's been using these people to test their latest product before they decide to put it on the market.'

'Have we had the toxicology results from the lab yet?'

'Later today,' he checked his watch. 'Or maybe tomorrow, but it would explain why they were dumped, the drug is either too strong or dodgy in some way. I mean, some people will stick anything in their bodies and chances are it was a free sample so they'd have been keen to give it a go.'

Coyle checked her mirror and nodded. 'Sounds reasonable enough but what about the woman with the black hair, she had no needle marks?'

'Maybe it can be smoked or swallowed.'

Susan eased off the gas as they approached the Lily Lane traffic lights. 'So, we must be looking for a main dealer?'

Lasser flipped out his cigarettes and sparked up. 'Not necessarily, if you think about it dealers would make sure the drug was safe before they started peddling it. The junkies might be desperate for a fix but they don't want to die in the process.'

'I suppose so.'

'Which means this could be a one-man band. Some nutter in his bedroom playing with his chemistry set.'

'But eventually he'll need to put out the feelers, they can't do it all on their own.'

The traffic started to move forward again, Susan turned left at the junction and got her foot down.

'Maybe they're already working for someone, refining the product with the buyer already in place?' He pondered.

'What's the address again?'

Lasser dragged out the post-it note. 'Six Sidney Street, I think it's coming up on the left.'

Susan slowed down, checking the side streets as they drove past. When she saw the street sign, she turned left down a narrow road lined with terraced houses before pulling up outside number six.

'Right let's get this over with.' Lasser said as he climbed from the car.

 

15

Andrew Forbes drew all the money from his own account, just short of four hundred pounds, a miniscule amount compared to what Emma had in her bank. The thought of it made the anger bloom again. Tossing the suitcase into the back of the car, he slammed the boot and clambered into the Jaguar, the car redolent with the scent of new leather.

Andrew gripped the wheel, if he didn't make Emma see sense, if he didn't get her back, then the car along with the flat would be spirited away.

The thought of having to move back to the family home with his tail tucked between his legs was too horrific to contemplate. He had to get things back on track, this was his life now and she had no right to snatch it away from him.

Taking a deep breath, Andrew slid the lever into drive and set off, thirty minutes later he hit the M1, set the cruise control to seventy, and eased back in the sumptuous leather.

'I'm coming, Emma,'
he whispered as the sun sank towards the horizon.

 

16

Tilly Crank may have been small of stature yet something about her hinted at an indomitable spirit. She showed them into a small but tidy lounge, the rug in front of the fire was peppered with birdseed from the budgie that sat perched in its cage by the side of the coal fire.

Sitting in a floral patterned chair, she turned her unflinching gaze on Lasser. 'You've found him haven't you?'

Lasser eased onto the sofa, Coyle slid in by his side.

'To be honest we're not sure, Mrs Crank.'

She waved a bony hand in the air. 'Call me Tilly, everyone else does.'

Lasser nodded. 'OK, Tilly, like I was saying we don't know if the body is that of your son, that's why we're here.'

She nodded; her iron-grey hair cut in a short no nonsense style, here was a woman who had spent a lifetime unconcerned with how she looked. 'What do you want to know?'

'Joseph went missing nearly five months ago, is that right?'

'I'll tell you what I told the other police officer, our Joseph had problems, drink, drugs, you name it and he'd probably tried it at some stage.'

Lasser glanced at the photo frame on top of the telly; it showed Tilly standing in the middle of a group-shot, flanked by three blokes on her left and six women to her right.

'Are those your children?' he asked.

Tilly frowned before turning to the picture. 'Aye, I've ten of them altogether and fourteen grandkids.'

'Big family.'

She sighed and folded her hands into her lap. 'I often wonder how we all fitted into this pokey little place. But I suppose you have to make the best of what you have.'

'Which one's Joseph?' Lasser asked.

Tilly slid her eyes from the moment in time. 'That was taken when I turned seventy.'

'You're joking, right?'

Tilly gave him a cool stare. 'You can save the flattery, I'm seventy five now and I feel a damn sight older, and besides I've got a mirror - I'm not blind.'

Lasser blinked in surprise.

'Besides, our Joe wasn't there, he was up at Leigh in rehab.'

'Right.'

Tilly sighed. 'Ten kids, I suppose I should count myself lucky that there was only one bad apple among 'em.'

'When did you last see Joe?'

'He turned up at the end of November and asked to borrow some money.'

'And...'

'He was always on the cadge. Two of his brothers have a roofing company and our Antony runs his own computer business, they all offered him work but he was never interested.'

'So did you give him any cash?'

'No I didn't, I told him he was nearly fifty years old, he had the use of his hands and feet he could have worked like the rest of 'em.'

'And what did he say when you knocked him back?'

Tilly eased back in the chair grimacing as the pain in her hip flared. 'He whinged and moaned but I was sick of it, so I told him to sling his hook.'

'And that was the last time you saw him?'

Tilly gave a sharp nod in response.

'You said he had a drug problem?'

'Before you ask I have no idea where he got his
stuff
from, I mean, over the last twelve months I hardly ever saw him.'

'So, you have no idea who he hung around with?'

'He was an
adult
not a
teenager
.' Tilly snapped.

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