by Rashad Salim
“Shit...” Tom said, perplexed at the situation. What had gone wrong?
“You turn him in yet?”
“We’re being seen now.”
“Alright. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Wait! What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna go to McDonalds. I’m starvin’.”
Tom groaned inward. “I better get back in there.” He said bye and hung up.
Barker arrived five minutes later, hurrying into the interview room. He greeted Tom and Qasim and asked them many questions about everything they knew, probing them further when necessary and repeating several questions.
Tom had downplayed Billy Thompson’s involvement and aggression in detaining Qasim. When he informed Barker of Zafar’s planned meeting with his client at the junkyard, the detective hadn’t mentioned anything about the police presence.
Tom had been eager for any information Barker could tell him but so far Tom had been the one talking with Barker asking the questions. There was no way for Tom to let on that he knew the North Binford junkyard was a crime scene without compromising Billy.
The last thing Tom wanted was for Barker to discover Billy had been on his way to confront Zafar.
While Barker questioned Qasim, Tom’s mind wandered.
It had crossed his mind that Billy may have lied to him – that perhaps Billy did confront Zafar and created the crime scene before leaving the area and didn’t want Tom thinking he had been responsible in case it compelled Tom to inform on him – but it was implausible, he thought. Even if Billy had lied to Tom, for whatever reason, it was too short a window of opportunity for Billy to have done anything... unless Billy had lied about going to the wrong junkyard in the first place...
Around an hour into the questioning, Barker excused himself from the room and was gone for a few minutes. When he returned Tom noticed his expression had grown more serious.
“I’ve just had a chat with some officers who were at the North Binford junkyard,” he said. “Turns out Zafar Khan did go there.”
Tom perked up.
Barker’s eyes darted back and forth between Tom and Qasim, gauging their reactions. “He’s dead.”
47
Tom was rocked at the news of Zafar’s death. He and Qasim exchanged baffled glances.
“I don’t understand,” Tom said.
“He was stabbed.”
Tom frowned and racked his mind trying to make sense of what he was being told. “He was on the phone to Qasim just a while ago.”
“That may be,” Barker said. “But I’m afraid he was attacked.”
“By who?” Tom asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Qasim asked him, looking down at his lap.
Barker gave the boy a look before holding Tom’s eyes.
“He was set to meet his client,” Tom said. “So his client killed him instead of paying him?”
Barker said nothing.
Tom stared into the middle distance. “He was armed,” he said to no one in particular. “The gun he used to kill my neighbour...he had it on him, right? Tell me you got the gun!”
“Officers on the scene didn’t find any weapons on him.”
“There had to be witnesses, right?”
Barker shook his head. “Too early to be sure but it doesn’t look likely. All we got is the cranky old man who alerted us - a resident in the area who’s been complaining about various drug deals and prostitution activities he claims have been going on at the location.”
Barker shuffled the papers on the table and handed them to the uniformed officer who sat beside him.
“What happens now?” Tom asked.
“Qasim, we’ve informed your parents that you’re here.”
“Am I under arrest?” Qasim asked Barker.
“Considering the circumstances, I’d say no,” Barker said. “But your parents can come to collect you and we’re gonna need to talk to you in more detail again. You’re gonna need some legal representation too. I’ll discuss that with your parents. Your co-operation is crucial in multiple cases now and I’m gonna urge you to let us know anything you remember – anything important that you haven’t already told us, understood?”
Qasim said yes.
Barker turned to Tom. “That goes for you too.”
Tom nodded.
“You can go now,” Barker said and stood.
Tom got up too and Barker walked him out of the room.
“I still can’t believe any of this,” Tom said when they were in the corridor.
“Better believe it, Tom. We got three murder victims now. Chris Jones, John Thompson and their alleged killer Zafar Khan.”
“Makes you wonder if this’ll ever end.” They reached the end of the corridor where the reception waiting area was. Tom turned to Barker. “At first I thought Zafar just wanted to get his revenge on me for expelling him but now I don’t know what to think.”
“You have any idea who this person was, his so-called client?”
Tom shook his head in frustration. “I told you all about those people – that list of suspects I came up with, I guessed it was one of them and I was right. Zafar. That’s all I had.”
Barker rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and that alibi of his was absolute bollucks after all. Said he was with some mates – one of them Qasim back there.” Barker nodded in the direction of the interview room they had just left. “They all backed each other up.”
“There will be fingerprints and other evidence at the junkyard, right?”
“There always is.”
Tom nodded and was about to leave when Barker held out his hand to stop him.
“He was still alive when the officers first on arrival got there.”
Tom stared at the detective. “Did he say anything?”
“He was in bad shape. Several stab wounds. Whoever did that left him for dead. Fortunately, he was discovered by the old man in time.”
“Not in time to be saved though.”
“No,” Barker said. “But he lived long enough to babble a few words.”
“What did he say?”
Barker shrugged. “Might be something, might not be anything. Unless the officers got it wrong, he kept saying ‘gimpy’ over and over again.”
Tom felt his blood turn to ice and suddenly found it hard to breathe. He tried to maintain his composure but felt like he was about to collapse. He needed to sit down but couldn’t. If he did, he knew Barker wouldn’t let him go until much later.
Barker frowned. “That mean anything to you?”
Tom snapped out of his shock. “Er... I don’t think so... no.”
“Sure?”
“...I’m thinking.”
“Well, if anything does come to mind, you let me know,” Barker patted him on his back and sent him out into the waiting area.
Tom tried to walk as steadily as he could. His heart was still racing and he needed fresh air. The moment he got out of the building he took several deep breaths and wondered what his next move should be.
He pulled out his phone and called Billy.
“What is it?”
“I know who paid Zafar. I know who’s tried to have me killed all this time.”
48
Finding the address wasn’t as hard as they thought it would be. All Tom had to do was make one phone call to Kate and she told him everything. On the other hand he had told her nothing. Not even why he wanted the information in the first place.
The address was a house in one of the few pleasant areas of Binford so it didn’t take Tom and Billy long to arrive.
Tom hid under the garden wall while Billy marched up to the door wearing leather gloves and rang the doorbell. He had his gun tucked into the back of his jeans. It was something Tom hadn’t debated with him on. They both agreed the gun was a necessary safety measure.
Tom peeped from his position and eagerly waited for the door to open so he could spring into action.
The door finally opened.
Billy smiled.
“Hello, Gimpy.” He punched Nigel Holmes in the face with such force the teacher went flying back into the hallway and lay on his back dazed, his glasses slipping off his nose.
Tom darted around the wall and entered the house, slamming the door shut behind him.
Nigel moaned in pain. When he looked up he saw Tom. He frowned and held his cheek where Billy had punched him. “Tom?” He stared at Tom and Billy. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Tom glared at Nigel. “You fucking scumbag!” Tom lunged towards him.
Nigel flinched.
Billy extended his arm and intervened. He held Tom back and Tom backed off.
Billy then seized Nigel with both hands, pulled him up to his feet and hurled him across the hallway, sending him crashing into a grandfather clock. Nigel collapsed on the floor and reeled in agony, clutching his head with both hands.
Tom approached Nigel as Billy stood by.
“Why, Nigel?”
Nigel moaned some more, begged them to stop, and when he looked up he had tears in his eyes.
Billy grabbed him again and dragged him into the living room. He held onto Nigel tight so he couldn’t break loose.
“Who are you?” Nigel asked Billy.
“I’m your executioner,” Billy said and threw him as hard as he could onto the glass coffee table nearby. The glass table smashed under Nigel’s weight. He winced and cried out in pain.
For a second Tom had thought they had gone too far but when he saw Nigel was still conscious, he brushed off the concern as quickly as it had come.
“Stop! Please stop... I have money.”
Billy frowned. “Money?” He laughed. “Is that why you think we’re here?” He reached out and grabbed Nigel by the ear. Nigel cried out again as Billy pulled him up into a sitting position.
“I never had you down as a killer,” Tom said to Nigel. “And I was partly right, wasn’t I? You never had the balls to do your own dirty work. You got some degenerates to do it for you ...and when they fucked that up, they tried again and fucked up again. This time you tried to cover your tracks and sweep it under the rug, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nigel glared at Tom.
Billy pulled out his gun and aimed the barrel against Nigel’s head.
Nigel shut his eyes tight. “Oh, god,” he said over and over again. “Tom, don’t do this! Please!”
“I’m not,” Tom said. “He is.” He wondered why he didn’t care if Billy shot him dead.
“Don’t let him kill me.”
“Why not?” Tom asked. “You had his brother killed.”
Nigel opened his eyes wide and stared at them both. “What?”
“That was my brother who lived next door to Tom,” Billy said. “He’d still be alive if it weren’t for you.” He crouched down and brought his face close to Nigel’s without taking the gun off him. “So how can I let you live?”
Tom stared at Nigel in silence, prolonging his suffering and let him believe his death was imminent – that there would be no intervention and no reprieve.
When Tom walked out of the police station having finally discovered the identity of Zafar Khan’s benefactor he didn’t give it much thought about leaving this confrontation to the police.
When he had discovered Zafar Khan was responsible for murdering Chris Jones, he had been adamant that justice be left in the hands of the law but discovering Nigel was the one who had started all of this, it posed a dilemma for Tom.
He knew that if he had told DS Barker ‘gimpy’ was a nickname the students had originated for Nigel Holmes, he’d never get to confront Nigel himself and would probably never get the answers he had been dying to know. So he had taken the risk of telling Billy Thompson what he knew with the intention that they would confront Nigel together. There was no way for Tom to confront Nigel himself without tipping his hand.
There was no other way but this way and although he managed to get Billy to swear he would not kill Nigel, Tom knew when the time came to confront Nigel there was no telling how either of them would react.
“You want to live? You better start telling the truth,” Tom said. “Any lies and I’ll make sure you die slow.”
Nigel nodded.
“You paid Zafar Khan to kill me, is that right?”
Nigel hesitated.
Billy pressed the gun harder against his head.
“...Yes, that’s right.”
“Zafar shot my neighbour dead, right?”
Nigel looked up at Billy. “I never meant for that to happen. Your brother’s death was an accident, I swear.”
“He was shot a bunch of times,” Billy said. “Call that an accident?”
Nigel tried to answer but was too flustered.
“And then you killed Zafar a few hours ago, right?” Tom asked.
Nigel bit his lower lip and looked at the carpet.
“You deaf?” Billy asked and grabbed him from the back of the head with his other hand.
“Okay, okay! He’d been reckless when he killed your neighbour.” He lowered his voice. “He had the address but went to the wrong house.”
“Zafar Khan, John Thompson, Chris Jones,” Tom said. “Three people killed all over one woman, hey?”
Nigel looked down at the carpet and said nothing.
“You tried to have me fucking killed over Kate!” Tom said. “You arsehole.” He shook his head in disgust.
Nigel looked up at him.
“That’s right,” Tom said. “She told me all about how you were obsessed with her. And it ate at you to see us happy together, did it? You jealous bastard, you make me sick!”
Nigel screwed up his face in anger. “You think this is about Kate?”
“How is it not all about Kate?” Tom asked, more out of curiosity than anger.
“Yes, I admit it really bothered me that she picked you over me but that was something I could get over. What I couldn’t get over was how you got the Head of Year position.”
49
Tom looked at Nigel totally stunned.
“That’s right,” Nigel said. “You know, Tom, you might have the looks and that made you a big hit with Kate but I had the brains. I was the best one for that position. Not you! And you know it!”
Tom looked away. He was finding it hard to understand all of this.
“I couldn’t believe Woolrich picked you over me.”
“So you decided to have me killed? And take my place?”
Nigel said nothing. He didn’t have to.
Tom shook his head. “...Nigel?”
“What?”
“I wasn’t even sure if I was going to accept that position in the first place.”
Nigel’s jaw dropped but he quickly recovered.
“I would hate to think you went to all this trouble for nothing, Nigel,” Billy said with clenched teeth.
Tom looked at Nigel in disgust. “Fucking pathetic.” He pulled out his phone.
“Who are you calling?” Nigel asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Someone who really wants to meet you,” Tom said and called up DS Barker.
Barker answered.
“I’m with Nigel Holmes at his home,” Tom said, watching Nigel as he spoke. He told Barker the full address. “He’s just confessed to killing Zafar Khan and for masterminding the entire thing. You can come and get him now.” He ended the call.
“Face down, shithead,” Billy said and shoved Nigel face down on the floor. He pulled out plastic handcuffs from his coat and tied Nigel’s hands together and then did the same to his ankles. Once that was done, he tied Nigel’s wrists to his ankles with another plastic binding for good measure. When he was finished he walked out into the hall.
Tom followed him out.
“Time to hit the road, mate,” Billy said.
“Thanks for not killing him.”
“Don’t mention it. Besides, there’s always his release date to look forward to.” Billy gave him a wink and opened the front door.
Tom wondered how long DS Barker and the other police officers would take. There was no way Billy could stay to face the police after what he had done to Nigel.
Since Tom hadn’t laid a finger on Nigel, he knew it was easier to claim Billy had been responsible for Nigel’s state. As for himself, he was well aware he had been complicit in the forcible entry into Nigel’s home and subsequent beating but that was something he had been prepared to confess to without any reluctance.
Billy walked down the garden path and headed for his car while Tom stood at Nigel’s front gate.
When Billy got into his car, which had been parked at a safe distance from Nigel’s home, he drove back and stopped outside the house. He unrolled the windows.
Tom walked out onto the road.
“I just wanted to thank you for everything,” Billy said.
Tom smiled. “I did it for Chris.”
Billy smiled back. “And John.”
Tom nodded.
Billy laughed. “You were a lot more help than you realise.”
“Where are you going to go now?” Tom asked.
“Back to where I came from.” He winked. “What about you? Back to Nottingham?”
“Nah.”
“You gonna take that promotion?”
“I don’t know after all this...”
“You should,” Billy said and stuck his hand out.
They shook hands and Billy drove off.
Tom watched him leave and then sat on Nigel’s garden wall to wait for DS Barker to arrive.
While he waited he thought about the week’s events and marvelled at how much had happened so quickly. It might have been a hectic week so far, he thought, but it wasn’t over yet.
As two police cars approached Nigel’s home, Tom prepared himself mentally for whatever struggles lay ahead but for the first time he was no longer afraid.
* * *
Book Description
It’s the summer of 1991 and sixteen-year old Asim Patel is enjoying a game of football when he discovers the corpse of a local boy and may have seen whoever dumped him.