by Rashad Salim
Tom frowned. He didn’t like the sound of where the conversation was going – down a dark place.
“Ya see, Tom, either someone tried to frame you for murder – using this note – or the note was meant for you. As were the four bullets that killed John Thompson.”
Tom staggered back aghast and covered his mouth with his hand. Gilby Waters suddenly came back to him. “It had to be Gilby Waters, right?”
“The caretaker who went missing earlier this week?”
Tom nodded eager for confirmation. “It was him! It had to be. He knew you were gonna catch him eventually and that was only a matter of time so he’s gone on the run. He came back here last night to get his revenge on me.”
DS Barker smiled. “That’s a great theory and quite plausible too. What with Waters’ criminal past.”
Tom braced himself in anticipation for the inevitable confirmation of his prediction.
“But no, Tom. That’s not the case, believe me.”
Tom frowned. “Why not? How can you be so sure it wasn’t him? It’s too early to tell.”
“Not really. Since, we’ve managed to establish Mr Waters’ whereabouts this morning. Turns out he went on a bit of a bender – was feeling a bit down and just thought fuck it. Decided to drown his sorrows and give the school two fingers.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Waters has been staying with his step-brother in Essex for the last three nights. We would’ve established that a lot sooner if we hadn’t experienced such difficulty in getting the contact details of his brother.”
Tom took it all in and tried to reconcile it with John Thompson’s murder. “He could’ve still come back here and done this.”
“I doubt it,” Barker said. “He’s not been in any shape to pull this off.”
“Maybe that’s why he got the wrong house. He was out of his mind. Did you think of that?”
Barker raised his hand. “Look, Tom. Just take my word for it. Waters has an iron clad alibi for his whereabouts for the last few days. He hasn’t left Essex in all that time. We have several witnesses who can verify this.”
“What about witnesses to what happened here?” Tom waved his hand around, pointing at the other neighbours. “Someone must’ve saw something!”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you? What with all the gunfire...”
Tom stared at the detective expectantly, eager for some good news.
“...But no. So far we’ve got nothing. Neighbours were all minding their own business. No one saw anything.”
Tom felt deflated and lowered his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Gilby. Where is he now?”
“At the station, where I’m going to need you to join me now. We’ve got lots to go over.” Barker put his arm over Tom’s shoulder and gently guided the dumbstruck teacher towards his car. “Don’t worry, neither of you will be anywhere near each other.”
Tom entered the detective’s car and stared out of the passenger side window. He watched John Thompson’s front door and imagined how his neighbour had been shot dead.
He thought of the killer and shuddered when his mind went back to the moment Chris Jones had been murdered in front of him.
First the killers had attacked him outside his school, now they were targeting him at home to accomplish their mission. Where were they now, he wondered, as he and Barker drove away from his home. He racked his brain but was still at a loss trying to come up with the answer to the question which had been plaguing him since this nightmare began – what exactly had he done to bring this on himself?
32
At the station, Tom had co-operated with DS Barker as well as he could. There was a lot to do with the police officers – a lot of waiting around for questions from different officers – and he ended up leaving in the late afternoon. He was still shaken as Barker drove him back home.
Tom had told Barker all about Kate. He hadn’t been in touch with Kate since Barker had summoned him that morning – something he was eager for Barker to know. There had neither been the time nor opportunity to let Kate know about his neighbour’s murder. Barker reassured Tom that this would help the investigation run smoother since the alibi of having spent the night at her place was much more credible this way.
When they reached Tom’s address, Barker parked the car directly outside.
There was no sign of police presence now because there wasn’t – something Barker had been clear about. There wouldn’t be any protective guard duty at either John Thompson crime scene or Tom’s address. The most the police had offered was to have a patrol car pass by every few hours to look out for anything odd.
“...And you say they won’t come back to finish the job?” Tom asked.
Barker shook his head. “Not now. There’s too much scrutiny. They’re running scared. You remember what I said earlier? About being careful and cautious?”
Tom nodded.
“Don’t answer the door to anyone you don’t know and make sure you immediately report any suspicious behaviour you see.”
Tom nodded.
“As I said before, we’re gonna step up the manpower in this investigation now. Obviously the two cases are linked – Jones’ and Thompson’s.”
“Yeah,” Tom said. “I’m the link.”
“The culprits got reckless. As I said, I doubt they’ll want to risk another attempt.”
“Maybe third time will be lucky,” Tom said.
“Hey!” Barker tapped Tom’s shoulder hard. “Get a fucking grip, okay? The last thing we need right now is you coming undone.” He relaxed his tone. “Just keep your head on and let us do our jobs. We’re close to making a break. I can feel it.”
Tom looked at him. “Why do I get the feeling the only way you’re making progress is when the killers fuck it up? All you’re doing is waiting for them to make their next fuck up so you can nab them.”
Barker gave him a dirty look but said nothing.
“I’ve been wondering... would you have caught the killers by now if they had been successful the first time around?”
Barker looked straight ahead and ignored him.
“How about this second time?”
There was an uncomfortable silence in the car as neither man spoke.
“...I haven’t got nine lives, ya know,” Tom said.
“Get out, Mr Smith.” Barker’s face was expressionless but his voice was stern as ever.
Tom got out of the car, shut the door and turned away as Barker drove off.
It was just after four o’ clock but already dark with strong winds.
He looked at Thompson’s front door – police tape still covered the entrance to both the door and the entrance to the weedy garden path – and imagined the tape on his own property.
He had escaped death twice now and as he said to Barker, he felt his luck was about to run out any second.
In that instant, someone called out his name. It was a man’s voice.
Startled, he spun around to see who it was.
Across the street was a white man in a beat-up parked car. Tom didn’t recognise the man and a terrible feeling came over him.
The man sat in the driver’s seat. He was alone and smoking a cigarette. There were a bunch of cigarette buds scattered outside on the ground where the man’s door would open.
Tom gawped at the sight of the man, who didn’t look too happy to see him.
A million different thoughts raced through his mind.
How long had the man been waiting there?
Who was he?
And what did he want with Tom?
Tom’s heart pounded as he considered whether this man was responsible for John Thompson’s murder.
DS Barker was long gone now. If this man was a threat, Tom had to face him alone.
“Tom Smith?”
“You a reporter?” Tom asked.
The man smiled but it was a joyless, cold smile. “Do I look like a reporter?”
“What do you want?”
The m
an got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Tom looked him up and down.
The man was over six feet tall and while not overly built, Tom could tell he had a lot of muscle on him. He wore a long black coat and black boots. Tom guessed he was a little over a decade older than himself, perhaps in his late thirties.
Tom tensed up as the man crossed the road and approached him.
The man stopped when he was roughly five feet away from Tom.
“My name’s Billy. Billy Thompson.”
The surname spoke volumes. “You’re related to John Thompson?”
The man nodded. “I’m his big brother.”
Upon hearing this Tom racked his mind again, trying to recall ever having seen this man before. He was sure he hadn’t. Tom had never been around when John Thompson had guests over, least of all an older brother.
There was an intensity in his eyes Tom had seen in the younger Thompson’s. However, John had been in poor shape and had never seemed a physical threat at all, whereas Billy seemed like violence was something he was familiar with and that made Tom nervous.
Tom began to panic, assuming Billy had come to harm him after mistakenly believing Tom had been involved in his younger brother’s murder.
“I’m sorry,” Tom said and tried not to look so nervous. He was trembling and felt it was obvious to Billy.
Billy’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”
The question confused Tom. Wasn’t it obvious why he had apologised?
“About your brother,” Tom said and swallowed hard.
“What have you got to be sorry for?” Billy asked. “Did you kill him?”
Tom’s mouth fell open and he struggled to speak. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Billy asked, eyes still narrowed.
Tom realised the man was toying with him for some inexplicable reason. Maybe he was upset about John, Tom thought, and he was taking it out on Tom. But there was something about Billy that Tom couldn’t quite place. Billy seemed experienced in toying with people and Tom didn’t want to know why.
“All I meant I was sorry to hear about John,” Tom said.
Billy nodded and his expression changed to a more understanding one. He appeared somewhat more relaxed but there was nothing relaxing about his presence and Tom wished he would leave as soon as possible.
There was no ignoring the man. Turning away from Billy and going into his flat would be an act of rudeness he was not willing to risk.
“It’s okay,” Billy said.
Tom felt the tension ease slightly.
“...I can see why you would be sorry though,” Billy said, looking at the ground between them.
Tom held his breath in waiting for Billy to explain himself.
“I mean, you did end up getting him killed, didn’t you?” Billy looked up at Tom again.
“I had nothing to do with his death.”
“You really believe that?”
“It’s the truth. I wasn’t even here when it happened.”
“Is that right?”
Tom puffed out his chest and stared Billy down. “Damn right, it is,” Tom said staring right back at Billy.
He’d had enough of Billy’s intimidation tactics. He might have been afraid of Billy Thompson but he wasn’t going to tolerate any more accusations from the man.
“Is that why you’re here? Come to avenge your brother’s death?”
Billy snorted. “I just wanna know who killed him. After all, I already know why he was killed and it had nothing to do with him but everything to do with you.”
Tom studied him. “You talked to the police?”
“I was his next of kin, so yeah I did. They never told me much though – but then again, the Old Bill and this old Bill never got on much so who knows how much they really know? All they said was it looked like a case of mistaken identity. Whoever did it was looking for you.”
Tom nodded and looked at Billy with suspicion. “Seems that way but who knows?”
“What’s that suppose to mean?”
“Did John have any enemies?”
Billy laughed. “You are hilarious, you know that? By the way, I did some checking up on you while I was waiting. Read all about the way you dodged a hit outside the school. I gotta say you really know how to let someone else take the fall for you instead.”
The man’s comments incensed Tom but he was determined not to react to the bait.
“Your brother was a bit of a nightmare. He must’ve had his share of enemies, hey?”
“You watch your fucking mouth, son!” Billy pointed a finger at Tom. “Not another bad word about John, you hear me?”
Tom nodded insincerely. “Yeah, yeah. Just answer the question.”
Billy glared at him and took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself.
“I’m sure he pissed off a fair number of people in his life but nothing serious. Nothing worth killing him for. Anyway, isn’t it obvious whoever did it was after you?”
Tom took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yeah, I suppose so. It seems that way.”
“So then,” Billy said, putting his hands on his hips. “Who wants to fucking kill you and how am I gonna get my hands on them?”
* * *
Part III
33
Tom told Billy about how the police were increasing their efforts in the murder investigations of Chris and John – how they were going after the killers relentlessly and would not stop until the killers were caught.
“Don’t gimme that bollucks,” Billy said. “The filth couldn’t find their arsehole with a mirror and a stick.”
It was true, Tom thought. He knew he was offering lies of reassurance – peddling the same crap DS Barker had tried to sell to him and he wasn’t having any of it either.
No amount of reasoning appeased Billy. He would not leave Tom alone until he had the names of the potential suspects Tom had considered.
Standing out there in the street discussing murder with a threatening and volatile man was an unsettling experience for Tom. But when the man put his hand on Tom’s shoulder and said, “I’ve gotta make them pay,” in a sympathetic tone, Tom found himself having a change of heart.
“Okay,” Tom said. “I’ll tell you all about it but only on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“If you’re gonna go looking for them I’ve gotta go with you and if we find them, you can’t kill them.”
Billy smiled and said, “That’s two conditions.”
“I mean it,” Tom told him. “I’m not setting up anyone up to be murdered, do you understand?”
Billy held his eyes intently.
“I don’t care if they did try to kill me. I want them brought to justice.”
“They’re gonna pay for what they did, don’t you worry,” Billy said.
“I need your word on this,” Tom said. Even in the moment he had realised how absurd it was to make such a request from a shady character like Billy who he had just met minutes earlier. “No leg breaking or anything like that. No harm can come to them.”
Billy nodded. “As you like.”
Tom moved in closer to him. “They killed your brother. I’m fully aware of the emotions involved here. I’m trusting you to keep your word if we find them. We’ve got to hand them over to the police in one piece. I don’t want them getting off because of brutality on our part, it’ll just help their defence.”
Billy stuck his hand out and waited for Tom to take it.
Tom studied him for a moment before shaking hands.
“Alright then,” Tom said. “I better put the kettle on.” He nodded towards his flat and gestured for Billy to join him.
So despite all that DS Barker and everyone else had told him – to leave the investigation alone and in the hands of the police – Tom had decided to go against all of that and against all his natural instincts by inviting his murdered neighbour’s vengeful brother into his own home to discuss how they were going to find the mu
rderers.
Tom told Billy everything about Chris Jones’ murder over a cup of tea.
He told him all about Mobeen Uddin, the student he had expelled who was now a born again Muslim with a solid alibi for the time of Jones’ murder.
He told Billy all about Marcus Wright, another student he had expelled, one whose whereabouts were still unknown but was rumoured to be heavily involved with gangs now. Tom mentioned how he had confronted the boy’s vicious uncle Curly and questioned him.
He told Billy about Shazad Latif, the elder brother of his star student Heena Latif, and how he had suspected Shazad had been behind the attack, since Heena’s boyfriend Atif had also been targeted by the attackers. He also mentioned how Shazad wasn’t anywhere near London at the time of the attack and that he might not even have been a suspect at all, considering he may still be oblivious of his sister’s forbidden relationship with Atif.
He told Billy about Zafar Khan, yet again a student Tom had expelled, and one who possibly held a grudge against both Atif and Tom but had an alibi for his whereabouts at the time of the attack outside the school.
Tom told Billy about Gilbert ‘Gilby’ Waters and how he had been convinced Waters had been responsible for Billy’s brother’s murder until the police had informed him that Waters was far away in Essex at the time of John Thompson’s murder next door.
Tom was surprised to learn that Gilby was an acquaintance of Billy’s. He didn’t say much – just enough to let Tom know they moved in the same circles but hadn’t been in touch in recent years.
Billy had listened intently and patiently while Tom had talked for well over half an hour. Tom was impressed with the way he had asked intelligent questions throughout the discussion. The man had an ability for deep concentration that was missing from some of Tom’s best students.
Tom had recommended Billy take notes, since there was so much to cover and noticed Billy had come prepared when he pulled out a pocket notebook at the start of the discussion. Now at the end of the discussion he was shocked at the number of pages of notes Billy scribbled down.
Something occurred to Tom in that moment and he felt the discussion wasn’t complete unless he had come completely clean with Billy.
