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The Binford Mysteries

Page 12

by Rashad Salim


  30

  When I woke up the next morning Chantelle was already up and getting ready for work. I got out of the bed and got dressed while she was moving around gathering her stuff. I dashed to the bathroom and returned as fast as possible so I could talk to her but it was obvious she was avoiding me.

  “Hurry up,” she said. “I’m running late as it is.”

  There was no reference to what happened in the night between us. She was behaving like nothing had happened but I decided to play it cool and not give her any shit about it.

  During the night we had talked about Thom and she was probably still worried about where he might have been. Her pillow talk was nearly all about him.

  She felt like he had been ignoring her and it got me wondering if she had finally let me into her arms out of loneliness or something else his absence was doing to her.

  I tried checking my phone for any messages and emails I might have received but the phone battery had died. I cursed my phone. I was eager to check my Facebook newsfeed and the news network sites too.

  This was something I had been doing frantically every few hours for a week since the night my store was burnt down. Without the latest news at my finger tips I felt left in the dark. Even if it had been less than half a day since I had last checked the news.

  I put my phone away and chased after Chantelle around her flat.

  “Want me to walk you to work?” I asked, as cheerily as I could but it made me wince inwards at how much I had overdone it.

  The more effort I made to lighten the mood, the more irritated Chantelle seemed.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said, avoiding my gaze. “Just get out before you make me more late.”

  She opened the front door and I seized her by the arm. I pulled her close to me and kissed her.

  She didn’t kiss me back but she didn’t pull away neither. She just waited for me to stop. When I did she didn’t say anything. She just looked away.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong then?”

  “Nothing. I’m just worried about Thom.”

  She might have been worried about her brother but the way she was acting wasn’t just because of his abrupt absence. I was convinced she regretted the night before.

  “He still hasn’t come home and I tried his phone again but it’s still switched off.”

  “Maybe his battery died,” I said, holding up my own phone for her to see. I thought that would make her feel better but it only irritated her.

  “Come on, get out,” she said and practically pushed me out of her flat.

  I started having paranoid thoughts of Tyrone waiting outside for her.

  She forced me all the way out into the street. I grabbed her by the hips.

  “Don’t worry, babe, I’m sure he’s gonna come home soon.”

  She took my hands off her hips gently and said nothing.

  “How long has he been gone for? Less than a day, right? Stop panicking over it. He’ll probably be playing on the Xbox by the time you get home from work.”

  She just stood there and pouted, staring into the middle distance.

  “Look, I’ll call him too, okay? And if I hear from him, I’ll call you right away, okay?”

  “Okay,” she finally said. “I gotta go now. Take care.”

  She was about to turn her back on me and walk away but I grabbed her arm.

  “Can I see you after work?” I asked.

  I already knew the answer before she could reply. It was the look on her face.

  “I’ll see,” she said. “Bye.” She walked away as I stood there fuming.

  I’ll see. As in, no way. As in, fuck off.

  All of a sudden I wanted to disappear but had nowhere to go. It was still around nine in the morning and I didn’t want to go home just yet. I hadn’t eaten anything so I thought I’d go to a local cafe.

  I walked around the streets for a while. I wanted to clear my mind from all the bad shit going on.

  I entered the cafe and ordered a bagel and coffee. The guy behind the counter looked at me strangely. I realised he was distracted by the marks on my face caused by Anil the night before. My face still hurt but I was getting used to the pain now.

  The news channel on the TV beside me featured a report of a murder that must’ve happened the night before but I was trying not to pay any attention to it. I just wanted my bagel and coffee so I could be on my way.

  When I left the cafe I went straight to the train station to get back home. I almost fell asleep on the ride back and the coffee didn’t make much of a difference.

  Once I was back at my flat I went straight to my bed and collapsed. I soon fell asleep and when I woke a few hours later it was past two o’ clock in the afternoon.

  I reached for my phone and realised I hadn’t charged the battery when I arrived home so I plugged it into the charger and went to the bathroom. I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and felt like shit.

  I looked like shit too. My face was all bruised and I had cuts on my nose and cheekbones.

  When I eventually switched my phone back on I was inundated with text messages. Most of them from Sajid. Before I got the chance to read them the phone rang.

  It was Sajid.

  “Don’t you keep your phone on?” he asked.

  “My battery’s been dead since last night. I just switched it on now. Why? What’s wrong?”

  “You got my messages, right?”

  I told him I hadn’t had the chance and tried checking them but he told me not to bother.

  “You really don’t know about it yet?”

  “Know what?” I asked, growing more impatient. “Don’t tell me you forgot to get something else from me yesterday.”

  “Nah, it ain’t anything like that” he said. “Go switch your computer on and go to the BBC news website.”

  I thought it was a weird request but did as he asked. He asked me how I was feeling while I waited a minute for the laptop to boot up and open the webpage. I told him I wasn’t feeling much better.

  “Well, you’re about to now,” he said.

  I wondered what he meant by that and opened up the BBC’s news website. I looked at the breaking news article and almost choked on my coffee when I read the details.

  “Fucked up shit, eh?”

  I didn’t reply.

  The doorbell rang.

  I didn’t move.

  I was still in shock over the news report.

  According to the article, two bodies found in a local alleyway the night before had been identified as Carl and Marcus of Binford.

  31

  Carl and Marcus suffered gunshot wounds and died of their injuries.

  The bell rang again as I frantically struggled to take in the details of the news report.

  “Hang on,” I told Sajid. “Someone’s at the door, I’ll call you back.”

  I hung up and went to open the door. When I did, I was suddenly panicked at the sight of DI Martin and DC Barker standing there.

  They both looked serious but DC Barker looked like he wanted to punch me in the face.

  “Mind if we come in for a quick chat?” he asked. Before I could say anything he walked past me inside my flat and DI Martin followed. “Thanks for the invite.”

  DC Barker walked into my living room studying his surroundings before looking back at me.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  He said nothing.

  I looked at DI Martin. “What happened?”

  He did not speak either.

  “You better sit down,” DC Barker said and pulled out the chair at the table. “We’ve got a few questions for you.”

  I looked at DI Martin again.

  “Sit down, Ali,” he said.

  I wondered what they wanted with me and sat down cautiously while both police officers stood around me.

  DC Barker pulled out two photos from his inside pocket and laid them out on
the table for me to see.

  My mouth fell open when I saw the photos.

  They were crime scene photos of two black boys with gunshots to their heads.

  I tried to get to my feet but DC Barker shoved me back into my seat.

  I looked up from the photos at DC Barker. I tried to talk but nothing came out.

  “You better explain yourself,” DI Martin said.

  I jumped up in a rage over his insinuation. “Explain what?”

  “Sit down!” DC Barker said with gritted teeth.

  I braced myself for a punch that never came.

  “Where were you last night?” DC Barker asked.

  “And what happened to your face?” DI Martin added.

  I looked at them tongue tied. “...Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing,” Martin said.

  “Looks like someone beat six layers of shit out of you,” Barker said.

  “I was at a friend’s last night,” I said.

  “Which friend?” Martin asked.

  “Chantelle Johnson. I only just got back from there now.”

  They exchanged long meaningful looks. I wondered what they were thinking.

  There was a long uncomfortable silence as they thought it over and I waited for their next question. I couldn’t believe the situation I was in now.

  “You know what I find interesting?” Barker asked but it wasn’t much of a question. “These two were the prime suspects in the case of your shop being petrol bombed. Then you start showing your face all over the place – causing a scene wherever you go – because you’ve clearly been out for revenge... and then these two poor fuckers end up dead.”

  My heart raced as I watched him interrogate me.

  “And now I have to wonder, Ali, is this all a big coincidence?”

  I frowned. “You can’t be serious?” I had been holding my breath and swallowed hard. “You think I had something to do with it?”

  “I know, it’s a bit of a leap, right?” Barker said. He pointed a finger at me. “Now don’t try telling me you didn’t know we were looking for these two sods.”

  “Of course I knew you lot were looking for them.”

  “Didn’t I warn you to stay out of police business?” Martin asked.

  I looked at him and then at Barker. I leapt to my feet and sent the chair flying to one side.

  “You don’t really think I killed these fuckers, do you?”

  “Come off it,” Barker said. “It doesn’t take a professional to see what happened here.” He folded his arms and leaned back.

  “Ali, we know how badly you took Mark Johnson’s death,” Martin said. “One minute the prime suspects in the investigation are found dead and the next minute you open the door looking like you’ve been in a fight.”

  Barker laughed. “So how did it work? You had someone help you? You must’ve. There’s no way a runt like you could’ve done it all by yourself.”

  I looked at him in disbelief and in disgust.

  “Am I under arrest?” I asked him. “Is that why you came?” I asked Martin. “To arrest me?”

  “Relax,” Martin said. “We’re just having a little talk about all the madness going on. That’s all.”

  “In that case, get the fuck out of my flat. The talk is over.”

  Barker leaned in close to me. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

  I glared back at him.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll get to you soon. In the meantime, stay where we can reach you.”

  They headed or the door.

  “We’re going to check out your alibi and get back to you,” Martin said, before he shut the door on his way out.

  “It’s not a fucking alibi!” I called out after them. “It’s the truth!”

  32

  In the news reports of Marcus and Carl’s murders there was no mention of a connection with the investigation around the Bestco arson.

  I searched the internet for more news on the murders of Carl and Marcus. It wasn’t any use though. None of the news reports on other websites included any other information about the incident. There was speculation about the murders being gang related. That was all.

  “Karma’s a bitch, eh?” Sajid said over the phone. “What goes around come around.”

  I said nothing. I was still fuming over the interrogation I just had from the cops.

  “Carl and Marcus got what they deserved, right?” he asked.

  I thought about that for a moment. The police were convinced Carl and Marcus had been responsible for the Bestco fire. They had caused Mark’s death and now they too had been killed.

  It wasn’t exactly justice. They would never go to prison for their crimes. No court of law would convict of them of causing Mark’s death because they were dead too.

  “But who killed them?” I asked. “And why?”

  Were their deaths connected to their actions regarding the arsons?

  Or were they murdered over something completely unrelated?

  Was it a drug deal gone bad?

  Or revenge for something else?

  The police had to be looking at more than just me for these murders.

  “Who cares,” Sajid said.

  “Joe might,” I said. “He’s gonna wanna avenge his brother’s death.”

  Sajid was silent for a moment. “You reap what you sow,” he said. “The way I see it, they got what they deserved and it was a lot better than anything the law would’ve done if they had been arrested. Just think, they would’ve probably done a few years for accidental manslaughter or vandalism or some other shit and then been back out on the streets.”

  I hadn’t told him that it had been DI Martin and DC Barker at the door earlier.

  I was about to tell him when he interrupted me saying he had to get off the phone and get back to work. We agreed to talk later and hung up.

  I stood up and paced my room, thinking about everything that happened. I thought about Chantelle and wondered what the hell was up with her. She had become so cold in the morning yet the night before she was so passionate. I realised I had read her all wrong.

  She wasn’t passionate for me. She just didn’t want to be alone last night.

  I had hoped to sweeten her up after giving her some space but now that the cops were probably on the phone to her right now, checking out my alibi and asking her about the night we shared, I began to feel like whatever I thought I could have had with her was crumbling away for sure.

  I got up and felt my body still aching slightly from the injuries I suffered the night before. I lay back into bed and closed my eyes.

  I thought about the cops questioning Chantelle about me and then it occurred to me that she had seen Sajid pointing a gun at Anil. What if she told this to DC Barker and DI Martin? That cunt Barker would probably link Sajid to Carl and Marcus’s murders too. I could already see it.

  Hey, Ali, did your mate help you shoot them hoodies? You used his gun, right?

  I groaned at the thought. I didn’t want to think about anything. I wanted to forget everything but knew I wouldn’t.

  I had made a lot of mistakes in the past and I had vowed to never repeat them. Now not only did I have a whole new set of mistakes – this time around it was as if my fate had been sealed already and no matter what I did I was destined to go down once and for all.

  33

  Going back to Binford had sent me spiralling out of control and no matter what happened, no matter how much worse things got around me, I couldn’t stop the madness.

  I had been surfing the internet for the next hour to find as much information as possible about Carl and Marcus’ murders when my phone rang.

  It was Bob.

  I hesitated to answer the phone, dreading the police had told him about my potential involvement in gang murders. Was I about to be given a formal disciplinary? Bob had warned what would happen if I had given the company a bad name by being careless.

  I answered the phone.

  �
�Hi, mate. How’s it going?” he asked.

  I told him I was alright and asked him why he was calling. I could feel the tension inside me rising as I squeezed the phone in my hand, anticipating the inevitable reprimand.

  “I’m at the Head Office and I’ve just talked to the Regional Manager for Ealing. How do you feel about resuming your graduate programme at one of their branches?”

  I groaned. I had totally forgotten about my career during the last couple of days of madness.

  “Reckon we could meet today to discuss it?”

  “Ealing? Wow... man, that’s something.” It meant to sound more enthusiastic than it came out but I couldn’t hide how indifferent I was about it.

  “It’s a good opportunity, mate. It’ll be good for you to get back in the swing of things as soon as possible too.” He was right. And Ealing did sound like a good idea.

  “There’s some choice in the branches to choose from too. Like I said it’s a good opportunity, we can go over the details today if you can make it out here for six. What do you say?”

  There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t have gone digging around Binford trying to get to the truth of the arson if I hadn’t had all that free time off work. I had made a mess of things over the last few days and gotten myself in too many stupid situations to pass on this lifeline.

  “Ealing sounds good, Bob. I’ll see you there at six.”

  “That’s great,” he said and then he lingered as if I needed further encouragement. “...Don’t worry. It’ll be like being back in Islington like how it was before.”

  That made me wince.

  “As if Binford never happened.”

  Now he had definitely overdone it.

  “Bob?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’ll never be like how it was before. You know that.”

  He sighed and I felt a little sympathy for him. I knew he had a tough job and was just trying to overcome the massive fuck up that was Binford.

  “I know that, mate,” he said. “But we need to carry on. We can’t let it drag us down.”

  “It’s what Mark would’ve wanted, right?” I didn’t say it sarcastically but the cynicism in my voice was obvious.

 

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