by Rashad Salim
Billy proposed surveillance of Qasim’s home first thing in the morning and requested Tom get a photo of Qasim too or they wouldn’t have a clue what their suspect looked like. Luckily, Atif easily managed to get plenty of photos of Qasim through his Facebook profile and sent them to Tom. There was no recognition when Tom saw the photos. But then again, he wondered, why would there be if Qasim had been wearing a mask during the attack?
It was Saturday morning now and the two of them had assumed Qasim would be rising late.
The idea had been to follow Qasim once he left the house and then confront him when the time was right. The two of them would interrogate him and apply all the pressure they could to get the information they needed out of the boy.
Tom dropped the newspaper in the foot well. “Were you and John close?”
“...No.”
Tom watched Billy’s expression for any emotion. There wasn’t any.
They hadn’t discussed Billy’s relationship with his brother at all until now and Tom suspected it was going to be a very brief and curt discussion.
“Did John have any other family? I never saw any visitors come around.”
Billy continued staring at Qasim’s front door. “...We got a sister – the middle child – who lives far from here.”
“Parents?”
“Both dead. Any other questions?”
Billy’s annoyance at the conversation topic was clear but Tom persisted.
“When was the last time you saw John?”
“Fucking hell, mate. Am I in therapy here?”
“Answer the question?”
“I saw him about a year ago. I came by to give him money.”
“Did the two of you get on?”
Billy winced and Tom noticed. He tossed the cigarette bud out of the window and glared at Tom. “Does it sound like we did?”
Tom looked down at his lap. “Sorry.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Johnny was always getting into shit,” Billy finally said.
And you were always getting him out of it?
“We grew up here,” Billy said. “Used to live around the block until about fifteen years ago. I left first. Didn’t have much of a choice when I was sent down. And then Michelle settled down with someone respectable and they have a respectable family now. Ain’t heard from her in years. As for John, he lived with mum ‘til she passed away two years ago.”
Tom thought about Billy’s prison time and wondered how long he had been put away. “You went to prison?” he asked.
Billy nodded.
“For what?
“Something naughty.” He gave Tom a look that said more than his words could.
Tom had sensed Billy had something dodgy about him from the moment he laid eyes on him and wondered how much of a criminal he still was.
“...Anyway, enough about me,” Billy said and lit another cigarette. “What I’m interested in is you and what got all of this started in the first place.” He turned to face Tom. “Did you have any enemies before you started teaching here? Maybe something from the past?”
Tom shook his head. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of trouble in Nottingham where he had lived a quaint life. “Impossible,” he said.
“How long you been in Binford?”
Tom told him about moving to town from Nottingham. “Ever been there?”
Billy shook his head. “Nah, but I always thought Robin Hood was alright.” He smiled and Tom laughed.
It was the first time the atmosphere between them had lightened up and when the moment passed, it brought Tom back to the reality of the situation.
Tom hadn’t expected the surveillance to be so uncomfortable. He had to use an empty plastic bottle when he had to relieve himself.
Billy had forbidden him from leaving the car unless it was an emergency and the call of nature didn’t qualify. He also had a bottle down by his feet for himself.
They had been sitting in the car for five hours when Billy nudged Tom hard on the shoulder.
Tom had fallen asleep but now he was wide awake and startled. “What?”
“Look.”
Tom looked at Qasim’s front door and saw a middle aged Asian man walk out of the front door. He guessed this was Qasim’s father.
The man wore a white prayer hat and traditional Pakistani clothes.
“Looks like he’s off to the mosque,” Billy said. “Afternoon prayers.”
Tom looked at his watch. It was almost half past one.
“Maybe Qasim will join him?” Tom said.
“I somehow doubt that.”
Tom thought about that. He watched Qasim’s father walk down the road away from them. “What happens if he stays home all day?” he asked.
“What kind of a teenager would stay home all day on a fucking Saturday?”
“One who is trying to keep a low profile?”
“Hmm...”
Qasim’s father was out of sight now.
“Think about it,” Tom said. “If he did do the deed, he’s probably hiding out now. And if he does leave the house it might not be until well after dark. Then what do we do?”
“We keep an eye on his house until he does come out,” Billy said.
Tom imagined sitting in the car for another five hours and sighed. “He better come out soon,” he said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“Relax,” Billy said. “This is the easy part.”
Tom stared out of the window wondered about the hard part.
Qasim’s father returned home less than an hour later. When he entered the family home there was still no sign of Qasim.
Then, at around quarter past three – over seven hours after Tom and Billy had arrived at the spot – the front door opened and Qasim appeared.
Tom sat up straight.
“We could grab him now,” Billy said.
Tom looked at him. “And do what? Kidnap him, right out in the open?”
“No. We’ll just wait for him to get away from home and any neighbours that might get in our way.”
Tom wondered how many times Billy had done this kind of thing before.
Qasim shut the door and walked down the garden path.
“Gotta give him some distance,” Billy said.
Qasim strolled up the road towards them but on the other side of the road.
“Still don’t think this is a wild goose chase?” Billy asked.
“It’s the only lead we’ve got.”
“I still think there’s a chance Marcus was pulling your leg. Even if he had nothing to do with John’s murder. Shifting the attention away from him by leading you to someone else would be a good tactic.”
“I’m pretty sure he was telling the truth.”
“Honour among criminals?” Billy smirked.
“...Something like that.”
There was more to it though. Tom never got the feeling there was any animosity from Marcus’ end when they came face to face. Unless Marcus was a great actor, he was indifferent to Tom as if he hadn’t given the teacher any more thought since he was expelled.
“You really think he’s gonna turn himself in to the cops?”
“He’s not handing himself in. He’s just co-operating.”
Tom watched Qasim walking away through the car’s side mirror.
Billy turned the ignition and they began trailing Qasim at a safe distance.
Tom’s heart was beating faster now. He speculated the different ways Qasim would react to being confronted.
He reassured himself in the knowledge that this time he’d be the one doing the ambush.
38
Tom and Billy had been trailing Qasim Rafiq for less than a few minutes when he turned the corner and ended up on a much quieter road.
“Time to say hello,” Billy said.
Qasim had been talking on his mobile phone, deep in conversation since he had left his home.
Billy overtook Qasim and parked the car fifty fee
t ahead of the boy. He opened the door and Tom followed suit.
The two of them walked around and stood on the pavement, blocking Qasim’s path.
Qasim made eye contact with the two men and slowed to a stroll. He was still on the phone but not within earshot yet.
Tom wondered who he was talking to and if the conversation was related to either Chris or John.
Qasim never broke eye contact with them as he said his final words before hanging up and putting the phone into his jeans pocket.
Billy approached Qasim. Tom fell into step with him.
When they were ten feet away from the boy he stopped and glanced at Tom.
Tom had been waiting for his cue and now he finally got it. He had told Billy he would handle most of the talking but Billy was welcome to chime in at the right time if it was necessary.
“How’s it going, Qasim?”
Qasim frowned. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tom Smith. I’m a teacher at Binford Sixth Form.”
“We just want to ask you a few questions,” Billy said. The comment had come as a surprise to Tom who gave him a look of disapproval but Billy took no notice.
“About what?” Qasim asked.
“About the murder of one of my neighbours,” Tom said.
Qasim shrugged. “What’s that got to do with me?”
Billy was growing agitated. “We’ve got reason to believe that you know who did it,” he said. He folded his arms across his chest and swayed back and forth, while glaring at the boy.
Qasim swallowed hard and blinked several times frantically. “I don’t know anything.”
“Ever seen a gun in real life before?” Billy asked.
Qasim looked around his surroundings, probably for someone to rescue him, Tom thought. “Why?” He was breathing heavy now.
“Because I know you bought one the other day,” Tom said. “So where is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t gimme that shit,” Billy said. “What did you do with it?”
“I don’t know anything about guns!”
“That’s not what I heard,” Tom said. “I know you bought a gun. Now I want to know what you’ve done with it.”
Qasim panted. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Then you better tell us what you did with the piece,” Billy said.
Qasim took a step back and looked past Tom and Billy. “I’m not telling you shit!”
“You little toe rag,” Billy said with his jaw clenched.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on here?” someone called out from behind Tom and Billy.
Tom spun around to see a car had slowed down behind them.
The voice belonged to an Asian youth in the front passenger seat. The young man had his head out of the window and glared at Tom and Billy.
Tom saw the car was filled with four young men and felt a sense of panic consume him. He had been confident he had things under control but now it seemed as if he and Billy were about to lose control of the situation.
They were outnumbered if it came to a physical confrontation and he was sure at least one of the youths would be carrying a knife.
Tom looked on as the car doors opened and the four Asian men climbed out.
Billy pointed at Qasim. “You ain’t going nowhere.”
Qasim took another few steps back and said, “Neither are you.”
39
“Took your fuckin’ time, Aziz!” Qasim called out to his friends.
Tom groaned inward upon realising Qasim had been talking to this rescue squad while he and Billy had been waiting to approach him. He regretted not acting sooner. If he had, he and Billy wouldn’t have this potentially catastrophic confrontation now.
“Relax,” answered the young man at the forefront of the crowd of boys. “They ain’t gonna do nothin’ now.”
Tom guessed Aziz was a little older than Qasim – probably around twenty years old – whereas the other boys were in their late teens.
“Nothing to see here boys,” Tom said. “We’re just having a word with your little friend, that’s all.”
“Not anymore, you ain’t,” Aziz said, puffing out his chest.
“Mind your own business, lads,” Billy said. “This is serious business for grown-ups.”
Unlike himself, Tom was glad to see Billy hadn’t seemed intimidated by the presence of these youths.
At the same time he felt like he had lost the upper hand in questioning Qasim. He doubted he’d regain that, even if the youths stopped interfering in his exchange with Qasim. His problem was he had no idea how to get the truth out of Qasim.
Aziz pulled out a huge blade from behind and held it out.
Tom gulped. The sight of the blade sent him in a panic. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
He recalled the knives Chris Jones’ killers had used when attacking him and Tom.
Billy rolled his eyes and swore. “Alright, that’s it,” he said and pulled out a handgun from his inside coat pocket.
Tom thought he was imagining things.
Aziz and his cronies staggered backwards at the sight of the handgun.
Tom, along with Aziz and his cronies, watched in horror as Billy lunged toward Qasim and grabbed him by his jacket with the barrel of the gun pointed at the boy’s chest.
“You’re comin’ with us,” Billy said to Qasim.
Qasim looked like he was about to burst in tears. He looked at Tom helplessly, appealing for him to intervene. Tom was too stunned to say or do anything. All he could do was look on in shock.
“Please!” Aziz called out and raised his hands in the air.
Billy aimed the gun at Aziz. He clenched his jaw and glared at him.
Tom thought Billy was about to shoot them any second.
“Drop that fuckin’ knife! Right now, cunt!”
Aziz followed Billy’s instructions and the knife dropped to the ground. His friends also raised their hands in surrender. Tom looked around to check if there were witnesses in the area watching Billy holding the youths at gunpoint. He didn’t see anyone.
“Now gimme ya fucking car keys!” Billy ordered Aziz.
Aziz was trembling as much as Qasim. He fumbled in his pockets until he found his keys and held them out for Billy.
“Take the keys, Tommy boy.”
Tom finally snapped out of his shock. “What the fuck are you doing? This wasn’t part of the plan!”
“Fuck the plan, mate. This is the new one. Now get the fuckin’ keys!”
Tom went to Aziz and snatched the keys from him. He stepped back in line with Billy. He stuffed them into Qasim’s pockets. “You can get them off him later,” he told Aziz.
“Count yourself lucky,” Billy told Aziz, with the gun still pointed at the youth. “I was gonna drop ‘em down the fuckin’ drain to teach you a lesson.” Billy smirked at Aziz, taunting him further. “Now fuck off back to ya car.”
The boys did as he instructed.
“We’re takin’ your boy for a ride,” Billy said when the youths were at a safe distance behind their vehicle. “Just try anything and I’m gonna pop him in the fuckin’ head, got it?”
The youths gestured their understanding.
Billy hadn’t let go of Qasim and dragged the boy towards his car. “Come on, Tom. What the fuck ya waitin’ for?”
The situation had gone wildly out of control and Tom couldn’t imagine how much worse it could get – unless Billy’s gun went off and he ended up shooting Qasim.
When Tom caught up with Billy and Qasim, they had reached Billy’s car.
Tom looked on in horror as Billy patted down Qasim and confiscated the boy’s mobile phone.
“What the fuck are you doing, Billy?” Tom said. “This is insane!”
“Shut it and help me out,” Billy said.
Tom watched Billy in confusion as the man gripped Qasim’s collar with one hand and using the other hand to fumble with the car boot handle.
When the boot ope
ned Tom was mortified at what Billy was doing.
He had assumed Qasim would be taken away in the backseat of the car, with either Billy or himself beside their prisoner to ensure he did not try to escape.
“No!” Tom called out.
Qasim was in tears now.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Tom,” Billy said. “You really aren’t much help, you know that?”
Tom watched in disbelief as Billy then turned to Qasim, and as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do, told the boy to get inside the boot.
“Billy...”
“Go on, son, get in,” Billy said encouragingly.
Qasim whimpered but couldn’t manage an audible protest.
He probably thinks we’re going to kill him, Tom thought, and at this point anything was possible.
Tom scanned their surroundings again to check if anyone was watching. There was no one but Qasim’s friends who stood docile and helpless behind Aziz’s car - probably in case Billy fired off a shot in their direction.
Qasim whimpered and pleaded but it didn’t help his plight. It only made Billy angrier.
“Get in,” Billy said sternly this time.
When Qasim failed to move, Billy lost patience with the teenager and bungled him into the boot. The boy went tumbling inside and Billy slammed the boot door shut.
“Fuckin’ tit,” Billy said and looked at the boot in disgust.
Tom stared at him in disbelief.
“What?”
Tom said nothing.
“...Get in the fuckin’ car before someone sees us.” Billy walked around and got in the driver’s seat.
Tom ran around and got into the front passenger seat. His heart was pounding again and he looked at Billy.
Tom was trembling but Billy was acting normal, only seeming annoyed at worse.
“Fuckin’ time waster,” Billy muttered as he turned the ignition.
“Do you realise what you’ve just done?” Tom said. “I’m a fucking teacher! How is this going to look?”
Billy ignored him and drove out.
“Where the fuck are you taking him?” Tom asked.
“Somewhere safe where I’m gonna get all the answers I need out of him.” Billy turned to Tom. “And I think it’ll be better if you left the talkin’ to me this time.”
