by Rashad Salim
The fingerprints we got from the Rishi Malhotra crime scene consisted of Neil Roberts’ prints on the plastic sheet Malhotra was wrapped around in when he was dumped in the canal.
Richardson and I sat in our office while Clark went through some of the paperwork about the evidence. “Who wants to take a shot at him?” Clark asked us.
I looked at them both. “I’ll have a go. Who’s goin’ in with me?”
Clark looked at Richardson. “You want to take lead?”
Richardson got up and took the evidence files from Clark. We then walked out while Clark stayed behind.
“How are we gonna play this?” I asked while we walked down the corridor to the interrogation room. “The evidence seems solid. But there’s a lot missin’.”
“Like what?” he asked. “No fingerprints on the body?”
“Exactly.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll get around to that. After we have a crack at him.”
We reached the tiny room where Roberts had been waiting and entered.
Roberts sat at the table with his arms folded across his chest and a sour expression.
“This is bang out of order!” he said, when he saw us coming in.
“Calm down,” Richardson said. “We can start now.”
“What’s this about? You still haven’t told me!”
“What do you think it could be about, Neil?” Richardson asked. “Parkin’ tickets?”
Roberts glared at him.
“You remember we came around the other day and asked you about that recent murder? That lad Ravinder Singh? You were spotted at the crime scene before his body was discovered.”
Roberts’ eyes widened. His bravado evaporated in an instant.
“You do remember that, don’t you?” I asked him.
“...Yes ...Yes, I do.”
“Well, guess what?” Richardson said. “It turns out that you got somethin’ in common with another crime scene, which just so happens to be the murder of a boy as well.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No? Let me make it clear to you.” Richardson banged the stack of the files on Rishi Malhotra down on the table. Roberts’ jaw dropped and he stared at us. “...We found your fingerprints right in the middle of the crime scene! Explain that shit!”
Roberts tried to say something but he was too flustered.
“What the fuck were you doin’ there?” Richardson asked.
“I wasn’t!” Roberts pleaded. “I swear. I never went there. You gotta believe me.” He looked at me for sympathy but he wasn’t going to get it.
“You sure?” Richardson asked him. “Because if I find out you’re lyin’, you can fuckin’ forget about your freedom. I’ll have you sent down for this!”
“We know you often walk around the canal area,” I said. “Isn’t that right?” I asked softly.
Roberts nodded.
“And you say you were never there last Saturday?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“What about the day before?” Richardson asked.
He shook his head again.
“Where were you then?” I asked.
“On both those days,” Richardson said. “Friday and Saturday.”
“I went out for a drink on Friday evening but I came home early.”
“What pub did you go to?” I asked.
“The one near my house. It’s just down the end of my road.”
Richardson looked at me. We would have to verify that later on. There would’ve been witnesses to prove his claim if he was telling the truth. I hoped for his sake he wasn’t that much of a hermit that he didn’t have anyone to drink with.
“And Saturday?” Richardson asked.
“I think I popped down to the corner shop for a bottle of milk and the papers but that was it. I was home most of Friday and Saturday... and Sunday and... well, you know what I mean.”
If he wanted to live a quiet life, that was up to him. On the other hand, if he was laying low because he had been up to no good then I would do everything to take him down.
“So how did your fingerprints end up at the crime scene?” Richardson asked.
Roberts bowed his head. “I don’t know.”
“Think,” Richardson said.
“I am!” Roberts banged his fist down on the table.
Richardson and I exchanged looks.
Was it a guilty man’s anger or an innocent man’s frustration?
“You better try harder if you wanna stay a free man,” Richardson said.
We got up and left the room.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“He seems like a good fit for this but we need more evidence.”
“So let’s keep him here and get a search warrant for his house,” I said. “We can rumble his place and see what we can find. He was really adamant about not lettin’ us in the first time we paid him a visit, remember? Maybe he’s hidin’ the evidence we need to charge him.”
Richardson thought it over. “I was thinkin’ the same. We gotta talk to the Chief first.”
We went to the Chief Stein’s office and told him everything.
Stein told us the search warrant request would be made right away.
“What about Roberts’?” Richardson asked.
“Place him under arrest.”
There was a knock on the door and DI Clark entered. “We might have something.”
“What is it?” Stein asked.
“Another Asian schoolboy’s been reported missing.”
I gasped.
Richardson looked at us all. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”
42
DC Cole
We arrested Neil Roberts in suspicion of his potential involvement in Rishi Malhotra’s murder. He claimed he never had a clue about either Rishi or Ravinder’s abductions or their murders.
We got the search warrant for his house and Chief Stein had Clark lead the search of Roberts’ house and car. Meanwhile, Richardson and I went to join DI Rahman at Maqsood Abdullah’s family home.
We needed to get as much information out of the family as we could and as quick as possible. If Maqsood had been abducted by the perpetrator of the other two Asian boys’ abductions, it was likely he could end up the same if we didn’t find the killer first.
The Abdullah’s were a small family. Just the couple and their ten year old daughter, Maqsood’s only sibling. When we arrived at their home, DI Rahman was already there and had managed to get quite a lot of the information we needed.
Richardson and I had to spend a few minutes with the worried parents and reassure them that we were going to do everything we could to get their son back. We told them to stay in touch and let us know if they heard from Maqsood.
When we left their home, Rahman joined us.
“They seem to be in good spirits,” I told Rahman, once we were out in the street.
“Don’t be fooled by their brave front,” he said. “They’re pretty much convinced the boy’s dead. They’ve been following the Rishi Malhotra and Ravinder Singh cases and they’ve seen how those turned out.”
“You mentioned how Mr Abdullah had a few arguments with his son recently about movin’ to Pakistan,” Richardson said.
“Yes,” Rahman said. “I did, didn’t I? ...Now that I think about it he wasn’t very forthcoming about that. His wife had to bring it up and when she did he seemed to mind.”
Richardson and I exchanged looks.
“I thought it was just stress and pride,” Rahman said. “Mr Abdullah seems to be a very stereotypical Asian father. Trust me – I know the sort.”
“Like yourself?” Richardson laughed.
“Oh, my kids are spoilt rotten,” Rahman said. “But as strict as he appears to be, I think he’s genuinely concerned about his son. Don’t you?”
Richardson nodded.
I felt the same. Both parents seemed totally distraught by their son’s disappearance.
“So you don’t think he ran away?”
I asked.
Rahman shook his head. “First thing I asked them was if he took anything with him. They said it didn’t look like it. I went up into his room with his mum and she told me everything was still the same.”
“Does the boy have any money?” I asked.
“Just a bit of pocket money they give him.”
“What if he had a stash they don’t know about?” Richardson asked.
“There’s no telling about that, is there?” Rahman said.
“So let me get this straight,” Richardson said, and referred to his notebook where he had made notes from his conversations with the Abdullah’s and Rahman. “He went missing around four o’ clock this afternoon?”
“He went out to play football with a few friends at that local field,” Rahman said.
Richardson and I exchanged looks.
I could tell he was thinking the same thing – the field Karim Zaib often frequented.
“Who were these friends?” I asked.
“Local boys – the same bunch he plays with every weekend.”
“The family know them?”
Rahman nodded. “The ones he mentioned to his parents were also Pakistani. His mum said she knew their parents too. When he didn’t come home around six like usual, she waited another two hours – thinking he must’ve got distracted and ended up staying out later than planned – and then she phoned up the boys’ mothers. Their mothers told her they saw him going home a little before six o’ clock. That was the last time he was seen.
“She thought it was strange that he hadn’t phoned her from the telephone box near the field to let her know he’d be late – what he normally did if he was late, which he rarely was. She told her husband and in a panic they contacted the station to say he was missing.”
“We’re gonna have to check for any patterns between the last known locations of all three boys,” Richardson said. “See what sticks out.
“There was something else I thought you should know,” Rahman said. He looked at me and Richardson before speaking. “...Ravinder Singh was in the same class as Maqsood.”
Richardson and I exchanged looks. I didn’t know which of us was more shocked.
Richardson shook his head. “What are the fuckin’ chances...?”
“It gets better,” Rahman said. “Guess who Maqsood Abdullah’s best friend is?”
I looked at Richardson.
“Asim Patel,” he said.
Rahman nodded.
I tried to make sense of it all. Somehow Asim was linked to all three boys.
That boy had been the key to it all. The problem was we had no idea how or why.
43
Asim
I had Rizwan phone the police station on my behalf to find out if they had heard anything about Max. All they told us was he had been reported missing.
I phoned Omar and told him about Max being missing but he already knew.
“Some cops came around and asked me all kinds of questions about Max,” he said. “They asked if I had heard from him. I told them not since Friday after school.”
“I see.”
“They asked about you,” he said.
“What?”
“When I told them how I didn’t think you’d hear from Max either they asked me why and I told them.”
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
“That you two weren’t getting along.”
“You fuckin’ what?” I couldn’t believe he had told the cops that. It didn’t sound right for other people to know about our personal business. “Why’d you tell them that for?”
“I couldn’t lie to them, could I? Besides, if I kept it from them and they found out later, how bad would it look?” He had a point. “Anyway, bro. I gotta get off the phone now. We better just talk about this tomorrow. If Max was up to something dodgy, I don’t want to get mixed up in it.”
We said bye and hung up.
What Omar said about Max possibly being up to no good rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn’t believe Omar could think that about our friend. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to question if I could still call Max a friend.
Max had been distant with both of us. I had put that down to his personal shit about how he didn’t want to move to Pakistan. I now begin to wonder if there was another reason why he had been so distant and why he didn’t want to know us anymore.
I did my best to brush the speculation aside. I told myself I’d go mad if I kept dwelling on the truth behind Max’s strange behaviour recently.
The only way to find the truth was to find him and that was the problem.
44
Asim
DI Richardson and DC Cole showed up at my house that night. My mum had answered the door and called me over. When I saw them I thought they were going to tell me something had happened to Max – that they had found his dead body in the canal or something equally horrific.
I asked if they were here in response to all the messages I had left for them back at the police station. They told me had been with Max’s parents just before they came to my house.
“Have you found him yet?”
“We’ve only just begun searchin’ for him,” DI Richardson said. “We were hopin’ you could help us with that. Maybe answer a few questions and point us in the right direction.”
“May we come in?” Cole asked.
My mum invited them in and my dad came over from the kitchen to greet them.
They told him they had to talk to me about Max and asked if he wanted to join me.
I stepped in and said I wanted to talk alone. I didn’t want my dad worrying about me.
My dad was fine with that and led them into the living room before leaving us alone.
“We were wonderin’ if you knew where he might’ve gone,” Richardson said.
“I don’t think he ran away.”
“He might’ve,” Richardson said.
“What makes you say that?” I asked him. “Did he pack a suitcase?”
“No, not that we know of,” Cole said, “But we think it might be a possibility.”
“Why? Because he was havin’ a shit time at home?”
“You know about that?” Cole asked.
“Of course,” I said. “He’s my best friend.”
“Maqsood tell you about it then?” Richardson asked.
“No.”
“Oh?” Richardson asked. “Then how did you know?”
“Our friend Omar told me.”
“Seems odd,” Richardson said and scratched his head. “You bein’ his best friend and him not tellin’ you.”
I knew where they were going with this and was glad I had spoken to Omar before.
“Max and I have been havin’ some problems lately.”
“What about?” Cole asked.
“I dunno, exactly. At first I thought it was over a girl but that came much later. I think it had to do with him movin’ to Pakistan after the exams.”
“Why would he have a problem with you in regards to that?” Richardson asked. “Did you want him to move there?”
“Of course not! I wanted him to do what he wanted but I only found out recently about the Pakistan thing.”
“Then why do you say him movin’ to Pakistan was a source of tension between you two?” Cole asked.
“Because I think Max wanted a way out of our friendship. Maybe he thought it would be easier to move to Pakistan if he didn’t have to think about me.”
The cops exchanged looks. Maybe they thought Max and I were gay.
“How long have you known each other?” Richardson asked.
I told him. He was silent for a moment. I could see he was trying to process everything I was saying so he could twist it some more and lay the blame on me for Max’s disappearance.
“...You know it’s strange,” Richardson said. “You didn’t get on with Ravinder and then he went missin’. Now you have trouble with your best mate and he goes missin’ too.”
“What are you
sayin’? That I had somethin’ to do with Max goin’ missin’?” I looked over at Cole. “Are you lot serious? You accusin’ me of abductin’ my classmates? Are you fuckin’ mad?”
“Steady,” Cole said, trying to calm me down.
I was fuming so bad I wanted to slap DI Richardson. “I don’t fuckin’ believe this!” I stood up and was about to tell them to get of my house when I thought of something. “What about Rishi Malhotra? You think I abducted and killed him too, don’t you? ...Oh yeah, you already accused me of that last time.” I looked at DI Richardson in disgust. “You make me sick. Comin’ in here and takin’ the piss like this.”
I surprised myself with the outburst. I’d never have dared talk out of line with my teachers the way I was talking to these cops and if someone had told me a few week ago that I would, I’d have told them they didn’t know me to think that. But a lot had happened since then. My whole life had changed.
I wondered about my future and if the cops were going to stitch me up somehow. It wouldn’t have surprised me. I had heard all kinds of shit about Binford police corruption and maybe I was getting a taste of it myself.
I managed to calm myself down, reminding myself that I was in my own home during this interrogation – not at school. My parents were in the room next door and I didn’t want to alarm them by screaming my head off at these cops. DI Richardson and DC Cole hadn’t moved from their seated positions.
“You finished?” Richardson asked.
I took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Yeah.”
My mum entered the room and asked the cops if they wanted tea. They politely declined and she left.
“I never even knew Rishi Malhotra. You know that, right?”
“Yes,” Cole said. “We do.”
“And Ravi...” I started laughing as I recalled some of the heated arguments I’d had with him over the years. “He was a fuckin’ prick. I ain’t gonna lie. I thought he was a total dickhead. But I never wanted something like this to happen to him.” The cops were silent. So I continued. If I didn’t talk now I didn’t know if I’d get another chance. “And Max... he was,” I surprised myself by talking about him in the past tense and corrected myself. “He is a bit of a drama queen – ask his other friends – but he’s still my best friend. Maybe the best friend I’ll ever have and I need him back ...I got so much to tell him.”
