The Binford Mysteries: A Collection of Gritty Urban Mystery Novels (3 - BOOK BOX SET)

by Rashad Salim

  I sat at my desk opposite his and leaned back in the chair.

  “He’s still goin’ over Roberts’ premises,” Richardson said. “The search team has been there all mornin’.”

  I looked at the wall clock. It was past noon.

  “Has Roberts said anythin’ yet?” I asked.

  “His solicitor advised him not to until he has spoken with him.”

  I slapped the desk in frustration and sighed.

  Roberts and his legal representative were stalling for time. Every minute that passed without an indication Maqsood Abdullah was still alive felt like we had our hands tied.

  If the consequences of Roberts withholding of evidence meant the boy was beyond rescuing then there would be hell to pay.

  48

  Asim

  Break time at school was eerie. There weren’t many boys around and it made me wonder if there would be fewer and fewer boys during the following days until it turned into an all-girl school.

  I spent the entire break time hiding in the school library. They had all the national broadsheet newspapers and I couldn’t resist poring over them for whatever progress had been made in the hunt for ‘The Binford Snatcher’. It didn’t look promising.

  The police had search parties around town and the nearby areas but there wasn’t much about a national manhunt underway. The killer could be hiding in a different city, I thought.

  I thought about how the adults had failed to protect us and that maybe the vigilante gangs weren’t such a bad idea after all – that maybe if the local Neighbourhood Watch teams had worked with all the concerned residents of Binford after I found Rishi Malhotra, Ravinder and Max would still be sitting in classes.

  I went to the toilet and was at a urinal when another Year 11 boy took the urinal next to mine. Neither of us had finished pissing when I saw him in the corner of my eye turn to face me.

  “Oh, shit! It’s Asim, right?”

  I said nothing and tried to piss faster.

  “Sorry about your boy Max. He was in my Maths class.”

  I finished pissing and started washing my hands.

  “The police heard from him or anything?” he asked. “It’s fucked up, right? I was just playing footy with him the other day and now he’s gone.”

  I didn’t like what he was implying. All the other students thought Max was long gone. Like he was already dead and done with like Ravinder and Rishi had been.

  “He’s still out there.” I finished washing my hands.

  “What’s that?” The boy came closer.

  I turned around and grabbed him. “I said he’s still fuckin’ out there somewhere!”

  That startled him and I left.

  I had to knock it into people’s heads that we couldn’t assume Max was dead just because he was missing.

  Making my way to my next class I wondered how much of my belief that Max was still alive was down to optimism, rather than rational thinking.

  Every time the possibility crossed my mind that Max had been murdered already, I had to force myself to keep the faith but it was getting harder with every passing hour.

  When the last class before lunchtime was due to start our teacher Miss Hawkes made an announcement: we all had to go to the school sports hall immediately.

  It could only mean one thing: whole school meeting. All the previous announcements and speeches the teachers had made before were done in the assembly hall. Whatever they had to tell us this time it was a bigger deal.

  We had to wait quite a while outside the sports hall before our class could enter. While we waited, some of the teachers from the PE department assisted in managing the queues.

  Omar was already there in the queue for my form class. “Good timing, eh? I hadn’t done my History homework.”

  Some of the boys in my class tried to embarrass each other by pushing each other onto girls.

  Mr Mitchell approached them. “You lovebirds gonna give it a rest?”

  That made the girls laugh. Mr Mitchell smiled and shared the joke with them.

  The boys straightened up and Mr Mitchell continued patrolling down the queue until he reached Omar and me. “How you doin’ boys?” He rested his hands on his hips.

  We said we were alright and kept our answers short.

  “I heard about Max,” Mitchell said. “Terrible news.” He shook his head and looked at the ground. “One of my star players, as well. Just like Ravinder.”

  Omar and I exchanged looks.

  “Still can’t believe it,” Mitchell said.

  “Max only went missin’ last night,” I said. “They might still find him.”

  “Let’s just hope it’s not at the bottom of a canal, hey?” Mitchell gave me a wink and a slap on my shoulder before walking away.

  I leaned closer to Omar. “He says some fucked up shit sometimes, doesn’t he?”

  Omar smiled. “Yeah, he does. But don’t take it the wrong way. That’s just the way he is. Some of these teachers – they don’t know how to deal with this. Think it says in their handbooks what to say to students when one of us is murdered and another goes missing?

  “They’re finding it as hard as us. Just look at Mrs Taylor. That bitch is always in tears now. Some of the girls were talking about how they saw her wiping her eyes with tissue this morning during registration.”

  He had a point. Mitchell was probably just trying to keep up our morale by bantering. Something he had said made me wonder.

  “Ravi and Max were both keen footballers,” I said.

  “So?”

  “Think there might be somethin’ to it?”

  “Like what?” Omar asked. “Our rival schools are picking off all our star players one by one?”

  I thought he might have been onto something with that. It wasn’t something I’d considered before. I remembered what Tariq, the boy in the same class as Rishi Malhotra, said to me at the mosque oddly around the exact time Max went missing.

  “Rishi Malhotra was a keen footballer too.”

  Omar’s eyes widened. “Nah!” He then looked at me with scepticism. “Don’t fuck around!”

  I told him about the conversation with Tariq. “Still think there’s no connection?”

  Omar raised his hand to silence me. “Hold on, bro. Think about what you’re saying. You ain’t serious about someone at the rival school killing these guys over a game, are you?”

  “Maybe it’s not another high school student,” I said. “Maybe it’s someone they know. Someone older and capable of shit like that.”

  “I dunno,” he said. “I was taking the piss with the football angle.”

  “I know but think about it now!”

  Omar was silent for a moment. “...Do you wanna tell someone about that?”

  “Who am I gonna tell?” I asked hopelessly.

  I didn’t think the teachers would take me seriously and as for the cops – the ones in charge of the investigation had pounded me with accusations. “Maybe you could tell them.”

  He shook his head. “It’s your theory. You gotta stand by it.”

  49

  Asim

  The headmaster, Mr Kent, made a big speech once everyone was in the sports hall.

  He talked about how in light of recent events he had met with the other teachers and had come to the decision of cancelling all classes for the rest of the day – and that school would remain closed for the remainder of the week. He said it was in the best interest of our welfare and that the time off would help us get through this difficult time.

  The majority of students took the news well. There were plenty of high-fives and hushed cheers all around. I overheard one boy telling the boy beside him the summer holidays had come early.

  The only ones I noticed moaning about the closure were the girls, probably worried about how missing a full week of teaching would affect their performance in the upcoming GCSE exams.

  Mr Kent ended his speech by reminding us to be more vigilant than ever. He seemed overwhelmed by the recent
tragedies that had befallen his students. His final words were “alright, get out of here now and go bother your parents.”

  The teachers ushered us out of the sports hall and off the school premises like they couldn’t wait to get rid of us.

  “Don’t forget,” Mrs Taylor said as we neared her, “Just because there’s no school, doesn’t mean there’s no homework ‘til Sunday night!”

  Omar nudged me as we came closer to her. “You gonna say something?”

  I gave him a weird look. “What? To her?”

  He was referring to my theory that football had the link between Rishi, Ravinder and Max but I didn’t think Mrs Taylor would take me seriously. So we passed her in silence.

  “Don’t say you didn’t get the chance,” Omar said.

  That only added the pressure on me.

  Leaving the sports hall, we came face to face with Mr Mitchell. In that moment it became clear he was the right person to tell.

  “Boys,” he said greeting us, “behave yourselves now.”

  He passed us. I called out to him and he spun around.

  “Yes?”

  Omar and I exchanged looks. The look on Omar’s face was insistent.

  “I was wonderin’ if we could talk to you for a minute.”

  “About what?” He looked at his watch. “Better make it quick I’m busy.”

  “It’s about the murders,” I blurted out.

  He frowned. His gaze shifted from Omar to me. “Go on,” he said, before waving me over to the side, away from the crowds of students.

  “What is it?”

  “Omar and I, we were thinkin’... Ravi and Max were on the school football team, right?”

  Mitchell nodded.

  “And I don’t know about this but I’m guessin’ Rishi Malhotra – the kid from Mayville – was on their school’s football team too.”

  “Yeah, he was,” Mitchell said.

  The confirmation stunned me. “He was?” I said a little too loud. I couldn’t believe I had been right.

  “Yeah, we played them a couple of months ago. Thrashed them, thanks to Max and Ravi.” He stared into the distance, lost in the memory. “Of all the boys...I tell ya...”

  “Well, don’t you think that’s odd? All three of them bein’ keen footballers?”

  He frowned. “They were courageous boys, Asim. They had balls. Like most of your classmates they actually gave a shit about the game!”

  I felt like my decision to tell him had backfired. I nodded just to get myself off the hook. “Okay, sir. Never mind.”

  He looked at me with pity and shook his head. “Go home, Asim.” He walked away.

  I turned to face Omar.

  “At least you tried,” he said.

  I walked away from the sports hall with him, feeling totally deflated.

  We walked in silence while I thought about everything that had happened.

  I thought I might be totally wrong about the football angle but I decided not to abandon it until I told an adult who took me seriously.

  The problem was I didn’t know if that person existed.

  50

  DC Cole

  “What the fuck was Brown thinkin’, cancelling school for the rest of the week?” Richardson asked Chief Stein.

  We were in the Stein’s office – me, Richardson, Clark and Rahman – to update him on developments made Maqsood Abdullah’s, Rishi Malhotra’s and Ravinder Singh’s investigations.

  “Think it was a bad move?” I asked Richardson.

  “Yeah, it was a bad move,” he said. “At least we didn’t have to worry about the boys being snatched during school hours. Now they’re free to roam the streets all day, who knows how many could be at risk? How are we meant to keep an eye on them?”

  “You think Brown should cancel the cancellation?” Clark asked Richardson.

  “Yeah, for starters,” Richardson said. “As long as the kids are at school they’re safe. Maybe the school should enforce extra after-school lessons and restart all the after-school programmes they had goin’ on. Give ‘em all detention if you have to!”

  Rahman and Clark laughed.

  “Thanks for your input, Richardson. Always appreciated,” Stein said. “Now does anyone have anythin’ to report?”

  We all looked at each other, hoping someone else would speak up.

  “I do,” Clark said. “But it’s not exactly good news.”

  “What is it?” Stein asked.

  “The search of Neil Robertson’s home doesn’t look promising. Forensics are still checking various fibres and samples taken from his clothes and other possessions but so far there’s nothing to indicate his involvement in any of the investigations. It’s the same with his car. Nothing turned up.”

  Stein sighed. “...You lot manage to get anythin’ from this Asim Patel lad?” he asked me and Richardson.

  “No,” I said. “It didn’t lead anywhere. The boy’s clean. He just has bad luck.”

  “Bad luck, my arse,” Richardson said.

  I looked at him. “Maybe not as bad as the other boys...”

  “Either the boy’s cursed or he’s definitely involved in all this somehow! We just don’t know how but we will soon enough.” Richardson leaned forward in his seat to get closer to the Chief. “Guv, you can’t honestly tell me he seems perfectly kosher, can you?”

  Stein pondered this. “Stick with it,” he told Richardson.

  The meeting ended and we all left. I was on my way to use the toilet when Richardson stepped into my path. He raised a finger to his mouth and pulled me to the side.

  “You think the Asim boy’s clean, do ya?”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. I didn’t want to get into an argument with him over it.

  We just didn’t agree on the matter and I just wanted him to accept that instead of trying to convince me how his suspicions of the boy were correct.

  Before I could say something to appease him he pulled me into the fire exit nearby. We were now out of sight and earshot.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s just say he’s totally clean.”

  “Go on.”

  “If he’s clean then he’s got nothin’ to worry about-”

  “Except for his best mate bein’ missin’ and a serial killer on the loose.”

  He looked around one more time. “I say we put him under surveillance.”

  I threw my head back in disbelief. “Are ...you ...serious?”

  “Hear me out!” he strained to keep his voice down.

  I tried to walk away but he blocked my path.

  “Look, Cole. The boy found Rishi’s corpse. Then his classmate, Ravinder, who he never got on with was next to die. Now his former best mate, Maqsood, is missin’. You wanna wait ‘til he shows up dead too?”

  “We’ve been through this before,” I said. “Just give it a rest.”

  “Fuck’s sake, mate!” Richardson was wild eyed and seized me by both arms. “How many times have you heard of the perpetrator insertin’ himself into the investigation in the early stages – stickin’ his nose in it – before it turns out it was him who done it?”

  The presumption that the serial killer was another schoolboy was too ludicrous to take seriously.

  “He’s just a kid, Richardson. A fuckin’ kid!” Now I was straining to keep my voice down.

  “And you never had kids his age kill other kids in South London?”

  I had nothing.

  “You heard the Chief,” he said. “He said stick with it and eventually somethin’ will turn up. Asim might’ve eluded us so far but mark my words he’ll cock up and when he does we gotta be there to nab him!”

  I looked down and shook my head.

  “What if he’s had someone do his dirty work for him and lied about that to us?”

  I kept shaking my head.

  “If he’s been workin’ with the Snatcher on this it’ll mean he’d have to be meetin’ with him to feed him info or for whatever else reason there might be, right? All we gotta do is be
there when they meet.”

  I kept saying no until something occurred to me. “...Say we do get surveillance on him – have someone watch his house and follow him around, where are we gonna get the resources for that?” I thought if I reasoned with him rationally and showed him his approach was flawed he’d have to give it up. “You know we’re badly stretched as it is. There’s no one to spare.”

  “Then we’ll do it ourselves.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Richardson!”

  “Come on, partner,” he said. “Work with me on this.”

  He had me cornered after side stepping every obstacle I had presented him.

  “...Okay. You win. We’ll do it.”

  He looked at me carefully before clasping a hand on my shoulder and cheering.

  “Just one thing –if we follow him around and realise he might be in imminent danger, we’ll have to intervene immediately.”

  Richardson raised a finger. “Only if the Snatcher makes a grab for him.”

  I looked at him in disgust but I’m not sure he realised it. “That sounds like we’re usin’ him as bait. Are we?”

  He winked and walked away.

  51

  Asim

  When 48 hours had passed since Max was last seen I began to wonder if he was still alive.

  One of the police officers they had on Crimewatch had talked about how the first 24 hours after someone went missing were the most important and after the 48 hour mark there was a slim chance of the missing person ever being found.

  If he was dead, I thought, where was he? He had to be somewhere. I wanted to be out looking for him but couldn’t. The search parties looking for any trace of him all over Binford were made up of adults only.

  Since I had the rest of the week off, my parents allowed me to go out with Rizwan as long as we stayed together and remained local.

  In the evening we went to eat out at Binford Lane with Rizwan’s friend Salman. The three of us sat by the window at an Asian restaurant when the sun set. It looked so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off the view outside while we ate.