Uncoiled Lies: a stunning crime thriller

by Liz Mistry

  After the briefing, he pulled Sadia and Sampson to the side. He’d been thinking about Millie Green and Jessica and the more he thought about them, the more he felt compelled to help Jessica. ‘Today we’ve got a bit of a lull going on. The groundwork’s being done by uniform and we’re waiting on all sorts of results to come through, so, before all hell breaks loose again, I want you to use the time to review the Millie Green case.’ He looked at Sadia, saying, ‘You mayn’t get another chance for a while, so make the most of it. Fill Sampson in and, until further notice or until something else breaks on this case, he’s at your disposal.’ He glanced at Sampson and grinned. ‘Look on this as a little training project for you, but keep schtum about it. I know nowt about this, okay?’

  Sampson, face flushed, clearly pleased to be chosen, nodded.

  Smiling, Sadia looked at Gus. ‘Before I go I just wanted to run something by you about that bloke with the tear tattoos we saw at BRI yesterday.’

  When Gus nodded, she recounted what Imti had told her earlier. Gus raised an eyebrow, ‘Hmm, interesting, I’ll make a point of finding out a bit more about him when I head up to BRI later. Maybe that nurse will be able to tell us something about the family. Worth keeping an eye on him if he’s inclined to violence. Get Compo to see if he can get an ID on him. Chances are he’ll turn up again. The type that’re prepared to hit a woman in public aren’t usually the sort to suppress their violent tendencies for long.’

  Sadia grinned. ‘If he can get an ID on the girl he hit, that’d be useful too. Our Imti’s got a soft spot for her, I think.’

  Gus shook his head. ‘Playing matchmaker now, Sad?’

  11:05 The Fort

  Brighton had waited till after the briefing to make his move. Seeing that sanctimonious cow sucking up to McGuire and acting all coy had made him determined to bring the bitch down. She deserved every piece of shit that was about to descend on her. He chuckled. And he’d have the added satisfaction of seeing her snooty dad wrong-footed. No matter how much he was prepared to bend over backwards for Hussain it still irked that the bastard felt superior to him. Never mind, not for much longer. His decision to pass on the good news himself had the added bonus of allowing him to witness Hussain’s reaction. Well worth braving the ‘shoot the messenger’ scenario.

  After making sure McGuire was otherwise engaged chatting up Sadia, he slipped out of the room. Not that McGuire could really say much to him: he’d been in early this morning and besides, chances were he’d assume he was on a cig break. Walking along the corridor to Hussain’s office, he tried to ignore the flutters of unease in his stomach. Hussain’s PA was absent from her desk so, after a tentative knock and the resultant instruction to enter, he opened the door and walked into Hussain’s inner sanctum.

  The room was pristine; white and devoid of the usual sweaty, greasy smell that permeated the rest of the building. Despite The Fort’s very efficient central heating, in that room the starkness lent a chill to the air. Brighton moved over to take the chair offered by the DCS. His desk was bare, except for a computer, a nearly empty in-tray and a framed photo. There were no coffee mug stains on it and all his pens were neatly organised in a pen holder. The scent of furniture polish teased Brighton’s nostrils as he sat down.

  ‘Well?’ Hussain’s tone was clipped, as if Brighton was some sort of time waster.

  The unjustness of this combined with the other man’s superior air annoyed Brighton, who barely managing to suppress his grimace managed a weak smile. ‘I’ve got something to report, sir, but I don’t think you’ll like it. Are you sure you want to go down this route?’

  Hussain glared at him, making him want to flinch. Instead he raised one eyebrow, feigning indifference and pushed the A4 padded envelope across the oak desk. This was exactly the tone he’d aimed for. He knew that the air of mystery would make it near impossible for Hussain to back out now. As Hussain made to pick up the envelope, Brighton slapped his hand on top. ‘Again, this will not make you happy. You will be upset and I want you to know how deeply sorry I am to be the bearer of this news.’

  Seeing a frown spread across Hussain’s forehead, Brighton felt a wave of pleasure engulf him. He’d made Hussain nervous and that made him feel good. About time Hussain felt at a disadvantage. He was altogether too used to having the upper hand and Brighton was pleased to be the one to bring him down a peg or two.

  He lifted his hand from the envelope allowing the other man to lift it. Picking up a wooden letter opener – pretentious twat, thought Brighton – Hussain slit the envelope open. He held Brighton’s gaze as he opened the envelope and pulled the contents out. When he looked down at the topmost photograph, Brighton saw the colour drain from DCS Hussain’s face and only just managed not to smile.

  Hussain quickly scanned the other photos then, without looking at Brighton, he said in a quiet voice, ‘Get out.’

  Milking the situation, Brighton pushed his chair back and, taking his time, got to his feet and walked to the door. Once there he looked back, hesitating, and in his most sombre voice said, ‘I’m very sorry, sir.’

  Exiting the office, Brighton closed the door behind him with a quiet click and leaned on the door for a moment as a grin spread across his face. Hussain’s expression had been even more than he had expected. The man was clearly devastated and Brighton, feeling ecstatic at being the bearer of such bad tidings, was jubilant.

  11:10 The Fort

  Hussain sat unmoving, staring at the photo of Gus, his dreads clearly silhouetted in the window as he nuzzled Sadia’s neck. Her arms were raised, each hand gripping the curtain on either side of the window. Her smile was evident. Their intentions were clear.

  Thrusting the photos back into the envelope, Hussain threw it on his desk and whirled his chair round until he could look out the window. A cold sweat covered his entire body making him shiver in his shirt sleeves. He felt his right eye twitch and the beginnings of a headache niggled behind it. He hadn’t expected this. No, the most he’d expected was a minor infarction by Sadia. Maybe a bit of clubbing or being too friendly with that Alice girl or those two buffoons, Sampson and Compo but not this. Never this.

  What the hell was she thinking? McGuire of all people, for heaven’s sake, she could do better than that. There were so many eligible Muslim men around and she needn’t be confined to Bradford… she could have her pick.

  His face grim, he smiled without humour. He should have stuck to that old policing mantra, ‘Only ask the question if you know the answer’. It had served him well for the past thirty years… until now. He’d asked the question and the answer he’d received was wholly unpalatable. The question now was, what could he do about it?

  With a blank gaze, he looked up as his PA knocked and entered his office, carrying a mug of coffee in one hand and a sheaf of paperwork in the other. He saw her expression falter as she approached his desk and asked, ‘Are you okay, sir?’

  Pulling himself together, he waved a hand, indicating she should put his coffee on the table and then, his tone abrupt, he said, ‘Come back later. I’m not ready for you.’

  He saw her look of disbelief but he didn’t care. For once in his life he’d abandoned his routine. He needed to think. So what if it disorientated his staff? She got paid enough to do what she was told. When she clicked the door shut, he looked at the steaming mug. Sadia had decorated it years ago at one of those pottery events. In gaudy colours and with an unsteady hand she’d written ‘To the best daddy in the world. I love you, love Sadia xxx’

  He reached out a finger and traced the words then, he grabbed the full mug and with an anguished roar he hurled it at the wall next to the door. Almost immediately, his PA burst through the door, her expression startled. Her gaze moved from her boss to the wall next to the door. Hussain saw her eyes widen as she took in the splatter of sludgy coffee dripping down the wall to pool in droplets on the carpet among the broken pieces of coloured china from the mug.

  He grinned, feeling a strange satisfaction that
he’d discombobulated the woman. Without uttering a word, she once more backed from the room. Hussain knew his uncharacteristic behaviour would be the topic of conversation among the other PAs for the rest of the afternoon but, with atypical bravado, he realised that, for once, he didn’t actually care what anyone else thought about him.

  He exhaled and stood up to pace the room. When his pacing slowed he went over to the window and looked out onto Oak Lane. From his position he could see the steps leading from The Fort’s entrance and the queue of traffic lining up outside. As he watched he saw Sadia jog down the steps followed by that idiot Sampson, seconds later McGuire and Cooper also walked down the steps. McGuire, he noticed, was still limping slightly. Pity that bastard last year hadn’t had a better aim. If he had, none of this would be happening. As he watched McGuire’s dreads bounce around his head with ebullient energy, he felt an almost uncontrollable anger engulf him.

  He didn’t register the fact that his hands had clenched into fists until he felt the force of his well-manicured fingernails break the surface of his palms. Taking a deep breath, he unclenched them and eyes narrowed observed Sadia’s surreptitious glance towards Gus as she crossed the road and Gus smiling back, equally surreptitiously. He wanted to thrash the man to within an inch of his life. How dare he lay hands on his daughter? It had been a struggle to bring Sadia up alone after his wife died twelve years ago; a young teenage girl and a busy police officer were a difficult combination but, somehow, they managed. She was the apple of his eye and, until fairly recently, he’d been her hero. He frowned. That had all changed when she insisted on joining the force. He’d wanted more for her. She was clever, pretty and would make a wonderful wife and mother. Was it really too much to expect her to do the right thing? Why couldn’t she just do get married to a nice Muslim boy like his friends’ daughters. But no, Sadia had always had an independent mind and somewhere, it seemed, he’d allowed her to drift away from what was right. It was time to change this, redirect her and end this damn, foolhardy ‘relationship’ she’d forged with the devil. He didn’t care how he’d achieve it but, he knew that he would ensure that Gus McGuire suffered greatly for what he’d done… and Sadia? Well, Sadia would be forced to toe the line.

  11:30 The Chaat Café, Oak Lane

  Sadia decided that, rather than risk her dad finding her poring over the Millie Green files in The Fort, she and Sampson would work in The Chaat Café. Relieved that the perpetual rain had faltered to a drizzle, she left the police station with Sampson and made her way across the road, ignoring the huddle of paparazzi that jostled her for a quote. Fortunately, they lost interest in her and Sampson when Gus and Alice alighted onto the steps behind them. With a sneaky glance at Gus, she waited at the kerb.

  As Sampson took advantage of a gap in the traffic, Sadia glanced to her right and saw a car she recognised. Distracted she faltered, craning her neck to confirm that it was indeed, Gus’ wife, Gabriella, with his sister, Katie, in the passenger seat. The car had come out of the Lister Mills complex and was heading up Lilycroft Road. Looking behind her she saw that Gus and Alice had already rounded the corner to The Fort’s car park. Thank God! The last thing she needed was Gus getting riled up again by his sister and ex-wife’s betrayal. That wound was still very raw and a chance sighting of the two lovebirds would only add a liberal dose of salt – not something she wanted for Gus. Not when the prospect of the dreaded Sunday lunch loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon.

  Sampson, who’d already bounded across the road, waved as she took her chance and jogged across to join him after Gabriella’s car had passed her. She hated to admit it to herself but seeing Gabriella made her feel a little bit jealous. Gabriella was gorgeous and, although Gus assured her their marriage had been over before Gabriella left, Sadia still felt a bit like one of the ugly sisters compared to his ex-wife.

  ‘What held you up?’ asked Sampson.

  ‘Aw, just got distracted. Come on, coffee’s on me.’ And she marched past him through the revolving glass doors and into the entrance to the building.

  The Chaat Café, as its name suggested, did a mean spicy chick pea and yogurt salad but, it also catered for a wider palate with a range of home-baked cakes as well as fry-ups of every variety from halal to veggie to red-blooded meat. It was a regular haunt of most of the officers working in The Fort as well as the locals. It was a community project with funding from charitable organisations and Bradford Council. One of its main remits was to provide culinary catering training for adults with learning disabilities. Its various rooms were available for groups from armchair aerobics to Zumba classes to mindfulness training and were well attended.

  Sadia walked past the security guard stationed at a desk covered in leaflets and continued past the various community rooms, following the corridor to the café. If her nose was to be believed, a fresh batch of scones were either ready or soon to be ready. God, but she loved those scones. Approaching the counter, her eyes flicked across the array of cakes until they alighted on the still steaming scones piled up at the end of the line. Eyes sparkling, she smiled at the head chef, Tony, ‘Great timing Tony. Two cappuccinos, please, and two scones with butter and jam.’ She looked beyond Tony to a figure wearing an apron and pink Marigolds, who was drying a pile of plates by the sink. ‘Hey, Rizwan. You make the scones?’

  Rizwan turned and his face creased into a huge smile. He stripped off his gloves, rushed over and threw his arms round Sadia. ‘Yeah, Sadia, I did and they’re delicious.’

  Sadia caught the chef’s eye and winked, ‘I hope you made them specially for me.’

  When Rizwan replied, ‘Yes, just for you’, she smiled, envying him his ability to lie so blatantly to please her. She knew she could do with taking some lessons from Rizwan in that area as her customary bluntness had gotten her into trouble in the past.

  Leaving Tony and Rizwan preparing her order, she joined Sampson at the table he’d chosen in the corner of the room. She was pleased that, without being told, he’d chosen the most discreet table right at the back behind a pillar. She sank into the faux leather chair next to him and cast her eye round the walls of the café. They’d recently changed the artwork on display and, as ever, Sadia was fascinated by the skill of the local artists. The current artwork was textile collages inspired by the work of International artist Imran Qureshi that provided welcome splashes of colour on the magnolia walls and combined with the baking smells and muted background music made the café one of her favourite coffee stops.

  Coffee served and scones demolished, Sadia pushed the thin file across the table to Sampson. ‘This is the file on Millie Green’s death.’

  Sampson used a napkin to wipe his jammy fingers and weighed the folder in one hand. ‘Not very substantial, is it?’

  Sadia grimaced. ‘Tell me about it. I’ve not had a chance to look through it properly myself yet, but it is a bit too thin for my liking.’

  Head to one side, Sampson flicked the cover open and Sadia continued. ‘I was there that night. Saw it from my living room window. It was bad. No way would Millie have chosen to commit suicide that way – who the hell would?’

  ‘So, you think Jessica may have a point? You think Shahid Khan may have done it?’

  ‘Not sure. I’m keeping an open mind. Jess thinks he did. But, me? I just don’t know.’ She gestured to the file in Sampson’s hand. ‘Maybe the answer’s in there.’

  Sampson pursed his lips, then shuffled the papers in his hands and handed Sadia a small pile. ‘Half for you, half for me. Won’t take long to shuffle through these, will it?’

  Sadia could have kissed him for his understated acceptance, and taking her share of the paper work, she settled down to reading the details of the police investigation into Millie Green’s tragic death.

  First, she glanced at the post-mortem report, but quickly put it to one side – after all, she knew what had caused Millie’s death. Gritting her teeth, she flicked through the post-mortem and crime scene photos, which made up part of her
bundle, feeling like a masochistic voyeur but, nonetheless feeling the need to see each and every one. When she’d done that she picked up the witness statements and scowled. Why were there so few witness statements? A quick glance told her that Sampson was nearly finished scrutinising his paltry share of the file, so where was all the rest of the paperwork? Most murder books were much heftier than this. Interview statements took up a lot of space. Could things have been misfiled? Unlikely. She remembered that night, vividly. The whole street had been out and the police had surely interviewed everyone at the scene. She knew her dad wouldn’t have missed a trick like that, even as a young officer.

  Frowning, she jotted down the names on the few interview statements and then took a plain piece of paper and concentrated on drawing a plan of the street as she remembered it. If she had the time tomorrow, she’d drive through to make sure her street plan was correct. Satisfied that she’d got it as accurate as she could for now, she marked the name of the families she remembered who had lived in each of the houses at the time of Millie’s death. When she was done she was pleased to see only three houses where she couldn’t identify the inhabitants.

  So engrossed in her work was she that she didn’t notice that Sampson had left the table for more coffee and now, depositing a fresh cup before her, was curiously studying her plan.

  ‘We could google them,’ he said pointing to the names Sadia had listed

  Startled Sadia looked up and flicked her hair from her face. ‘What?’