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

by Rashad Salim

  “...You still there?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna go down town.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, why?” I asked.

  “You know what everyone’s saying about staying in and keeping the doors locked and all that, right?”

  I threw my head back and groaned. “So what are we meant to do? Stay home ‘til school’s open again? Get real! You’re actin’ like there’s a curfew or some shit.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Do what you want. But if you go missing too don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

  We talked a little more before hanging up.

  I was working myself up indoors. I had to get out or I’d go mad. I knew I’d be taking a risk if I left the house alone but I didn’t care.

  I decided to take my bike out with me. That way I’d get around much quicker and if I felt like I was in danger I’d race back home as fast as I could.

  I went into the back garden and got my bike, I was taking it through the hallway to the front door when my mum stepped in front of me.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Just for a ride, that’s all. I was going to tell you.”

  She looked terrified. “Asim...”

  I didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t worry, mum. I’m not going far. Just down Binford Lane and you know how busy that is.”

  “I don’t care,” she said. “If your dad were home he’d be furious.”

  “Then don’t tell him,” I said and realised I was asking her to lie by keeping it a secret. “Okay, tell him. But tell him not to worry, I’m on my bike.” I took the bike past her and opened the front door. “Besides I’ll be back before he gets home.”

  “You better be! He gets home around six.”

  I took the bike out into the front garden. “Don’t worry. I might ride around the park.” She looked alarmed at that last bit so I added, “But only if it’s busy with families on a day out.”

  “Be careful and don’t get into any trouble,” she said, standing at the door.

  “Don’t worry, nothing can happen.”

  59

  DC Cole

  We had to get started on the snooping as soon as we could but when we got in to the office, there was a lot to do and catch up on with the actual investigation.

  Rahman had spoken to all the families and updated the whole team. He told us neither Maqsood nor Ravinder’s homes had new carpets fitted. Neither had Rishi’s but they did have some construction done to build an extension at the back of the house a couple of months ago.

  Clark thought there might have been something notable there but it didn’t fit right. Firstly, it wasn’t carpets being fitted and secondly, it had nothing in common with the homes of the other two boys.

  I told Clark it was worth a shot and at least we could eliminate that possibility. It meant we were still looking out for someone in a role that would’ve brought him into contact with all three boys.

  We were racking our brains, trying to come up with a potential role until WPC Burton spoke up. “How about the postman?”

  We all gave it some serious thought and tried to test it by coming up with ways it could work. A postman would’ve known the area well but he wouldn’t have had any real contact with the families. And in regards to the boys – they’d all have been at school anytime the postman came to drop off the mail. In the end, we threw it out but made a note of it as part of the investigation progress.

  Clark reminded me to go out and speak to the local home decorating and furniture businesses to see if they knew anyone who fit the description Neil Roberts had given us about the man who showed him the roll of plastic sheeting.

  Richardson stepped in and handed all of that over to Enfield, telling him we needed to check out a lead.

  Richardson and I were sitting in his car parked near Asim Patel’s house. Luckily the boy was at home.

  Richardson had DI Rahman phone the family to determine Asim’s whereabouts.

  We had been watching the house for two hours when Richardson nudged me. “Look.”

  Asim Patel was walking out his front door with his bicycle.

  “Target is on the move,” Richardson said and gave me a wink.

  “He’s probably just goin’ to pick up a pint of milk.”

  “Well, wherever he’s goin’, we’re goin’ too,” he said and turned the ignition.

  Asim Patel began riding away and we were soon following behind.

  60

  Asim

  I rode out to Binford Lane. It was as busy at around three in the afternoon as it was on the weekend. I thought of all the kids out there with their families and how they’d normally be at school.

  A crowd formed near a street corner. I got closer and saw a cameraman filming a TV news woman standing there holding her microphone at the face of an Asian man in his thirties.

  I approached the crowd slowly and got close enough to hear what was being said.

  “All I can really say is that I’m glad he’s dead,” the man said.

  “What about the way some of the local residents were involved in the lead up to that?” The newswoman asked. “Shouldn’t they have left that to the police?”

  “If the police had done their job, there wouldn’t still be a missing boy out there,” the man said. “If the community hadn’t confronted ‘The Binford Snatcher’ ourselves, the police would never have caught him!” This led to murmured cheers from the crowd around him.

  “Do you think the police have mishandled this investigation?”

  Before the man could answer, another Asian man – probably in his late twenties – intervened and spoke into the microphone. “If they had done their jobs properly we wouldn’t have lost all these boys in the first place!”

  The crowd jeered and egged him on.

  I rode away after that and went down some backstreets. I didn’t have anywhere specific I wanted to go – I just wanted to ride around town for a while before I returned home. I kept on riding until I found myself near the local field Max played football with other local boys.

  I rode towards the field and stopped when I reached the edges.

  The field was fairly small. Just an empty patch of grass – a little bigger than a basketball court. There were no swings or slides or anything like that. There wasn’t a goal post but boys would set up their own one.

  There were a few families sitting on the grass, having a picnic while a couple walked their dog and a few joggers passed by heading in opposite directions. I noticed a bunch of boys playing football too.

  I watched the boys play football. The sun was beating down on them and two of the players had taken off their T-shirts. I thought about how Max and Ravinder used to play football there and wondered if Rishi Malhotra had too. When I thought about what had happened to them I looked at the topless boys in a new light.

  There was a serial killer on the loose – someone who had kidnapped and sexually assaulted teenage boys before killing them.

  Boys just like these topless ones in front of me.

  It seemed careless of them to be parading themselves like that. I wondered if they even realised the risk they had taken exhibiting themselves like that.

  I got back on the bike and was about to ride away when something caught my attention at the other side of the field. It could’ve been a coincidence but for some unknown reason my instincts kicked in and I knew what I was looking at.

  The white van I had seen right after discovering Rishi Malhotra’s corpse.

  61

  DC Cole

  “How long we gonna keep this up?” I asked Richardson while he drove.

  We were following Asim Patel riding around Binford on his bicycle and all we’d seen him do was ride past the high street and then ride back in the direction of his home. He had briefly stopped at a local field. We were watching him closely, trying to work out if there was an ulterior reason for his every action.

  “...As long as we have to,” Richardson said. �
��Unless you got somethin’ more important to do.”

  I shook my head. “We’re just wastin’ our time here and deep down you know it too.”

  “If Asim’s the key to all this and we miss that break, you really wanna live with that?”

  He had a point but I still felt we were better off spending our time talking to the local businesses and the pub Neil Roberts had met the suspicious drinking partner.

  I was still brooding when someone on the field caught my attention.

  A man sitting on a bench watching a football game played by teenage boys.

  He was white, seemed like a big man even while sitting and he wore a baseball cap.

  “Richardson! You see him? Over there on the bench.”

  “Yeah,” Richardson said calmly. I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

  “That’s gotta be him, right? Roberts’ drinkin’ buddy. Has the cap an’ all.”

  “Could well be,” he said. “Could be someone totally innocent though.”

  “You think he’s just havin’ a sit down?” I asked. “It’s a bit obvious he’s here to enjoy the scenery. What do we do?”

  “Wait.”

  “For what?” I asked. “Let me get a closer look at him at least.”

  “We can’t get out and blow our cover, can we?”

  He was right but I was eager to get a good description and at this distance that wasn’t possible.

  “We gotta follow him,” I said.

  “What about Asim? You just wanna leave him?”

  “He’s not done anythin’ remotely dodgy, has he? Unlike this suspicious fella here. I say we switch. Follow him instead. What happens if he leaves? We’re gonna lose him!”

  “Okay, okay, I get it.” He watched the man and narrowed his eyes.

  “Let’s split up,” I said. “You stay on Asim and I’ll trail this man, see what I can find out.”

  “You dozy sod, you can’t get out! Asim might see you and how you gonna explain how you happen to be here?”

  My heart was beating so fast I was struggling to remain calm. We were in a bind. If this had been a proper surveillance operation we’d have had support from other officers who could pursue multiple targets – which is what we had here.

  62

  Asim

  The van was parked and empty. I kept my eyes on it and rode out slowly. I was going to take a long roundabout way past the van to get a better look without drawing attention to myself. The driver could’ve been anywhere.

  Making my way towards the van, I kept trying to figure out how I had been so sure this was the same van. I got my answer when I rode past it. It had a deep dent to the side about two feet long. I don’t know how I had forgotten that detail but the second I saw it now it all came back to me.

  It was like the answer to the question you knew deep down but just couldn’t recall but felt it was obvious only after it was revealed to you.

  I looked at the number plate and did my best to memorise it. I didn’t have a pen or a pencil on me. If I had I wouldn’t have been stressing myself so badly to remember the plate. I kept repeating it over and over again in my head. I looked back at the van a few times, just to be sure. Then I rode about thirty to forty feet away and stopped. I tried to look around discreetly and wondered what to do. I knew I had to tell someone but there was no one around to share my suspicions.

  I hoped the driver of the van might be nearby. I knew none of the other drivers who parked in that area left their vehicles there for a long period. It was a busy area and from what I had seen in the in the past – mainly people dropping off passengers or collecting them. I was scanning my surroundings when I heard the van door slam shut.

  I quickly turned to face the van and saw the driver.

  It was the white man in a cap. The same one I saw the night I found Rishi Malhotra.

  Same man, same van.

  I had just ridden right past him seconds ago. He had been sitting on the bench when I passed by and I barely noticed him.

  I was frantic. All of a sudden I had to decide what to do. I was so flustered I couldn’t think straight.

  I thought about following the van but it was such a stupid and dangerous idea that I instantly knew it was the wrong move. I considered alerting someone nearby but imagined how it would waste valuable time explaining everything and in the end I probably would be told to piss off.

  I cursed and wondered why there was never a cop around when it mattered the most.

  Following the van was the only thing I could do. I jumped on the bike and followed the van, which was still driving out of its parking spot.

  I told myself to keep at a safe distance – as to not catch the attention of the driver – while trying to stop my heart from exploding.

  I was convinced that was ‘The Binford Snatcher’ or one of his henchmen and what I was doing scared the shit out of me. I tried not to wonder if Max was in the van.

  63

  DC Cole

  “We might not have to split up,” Richardson said.

  The man had walked over to his van and got in, while Asim watched him too. The man started up the van and Asim started following him!

  “We gotta do something,” I said.

  Richardson turned the ignition and drove out, following Asim Patel.

  “Are we followin’ the man or the boy?”

  “Both.”

  “The man’s the priority here though, right?” I asked.

  Richardson didn’t answer. I slammed the dashboard with my fist.

  “Don’t get so worked up,” he said. “Just be glad we were here to see all this.”

  “We gotta get those plates, mate. And we gotta radio them in the first chance we get.”

  “Patience, mate.” He was calmer now than before.

  It was as if he was finally getting what he had been waiting for.

  We drove for around ten minutes. I had been hoping Asim wasn’t really following the van and that he if he was he would eventually change his mind and just go home, especially the further away the van led him. But I gave up that hope when we were far away from his house and he was still in pursuit of the van.

  Traffic had thinned out a long time ago and we had slowed down to keep from being noticed – either by Asim or the van driver.

  Eventually we reached an industrial area of Binford – a long way away from any residential buildings. We stopped when the van drove through a wide gate and into one of the many industrial sites. Asim had stopped too.

  I wondered if he was going to ride into the industrial site too and wished he’d ride away as soon as possible. The site was private property. No trespassers were permitted and that’s what Asim would be if he pursued the van any further.

  “We gotta stop him,” I said. “We can’t let him go in there.”

  He raised his hand to silence me and watched the boy and the van, which was parking near a warehouse.

  “Right, that’s it,” I said and unbuckled my seatbelt.

  Richardson grabbed a hold of me. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I don’t think the boy’s got the balls to go in there. We wait ‘til he rides off and then we keep an eye on the van for a little longer, see who else is down there. Maybe he’s here to meet someone.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we go back to the station and check out the plates and this location on all the records we can access. Find out who the driver is and who owns that building. And if it turns up anything juicy, we come back here with a proper search team. Got it?”

  I looked out at Asim Patel spying on the van driver. I couldn’t tell who was more anxious, me or Asim. “That’s all good, Richardson, but if he goes in, we go in! Got it?”

  I had never been so blunt with him before. He gave in.

  64

  Asim

  The man in the van got out and went to open the big door on the side. My heart pounded and my mouth went dry as I watched him reach into the van and pull out some tools. I don’t know what I wa
s expecting him to do but he had given me the creeps.

  There was no doubt he had been watching those sweaty, topless schoolboys.

  He shut the van door and walked into the massive building. I couldn’t tell what the building was – probably some kind of warehouse or factory. There had been a few signs outside indicating it was construction related but that’s all I had to go on.

  After he disappeared from my line of sight I had to make a tough decision.

  Should I stay and wait, just in case there’s more to find out or leave now?

  I looked at my watch. If I raced back I could get home in time and tell Rizwan what I saw. He’d be angry with me but at least he could talk to the police on my behalf. But if I left right then, I wondered if I might miss something critical. Maybe the man would drive away never to be seen again. I tried to weigh the risks and knew I was defying all logic when I had made up my mind.

  I had to go in and prowl around and see if there was any sign of Max.

  I got off the bike and locked it to a tree nearby. After scanning my surroundings to see if anyone was around I made a dash straight to the van.

  If I was wrong and got caught, I’d just make up some bullshit about how I was looking for a summer job. And if I got in trouble with the law over this, I was willing to face the consequences.

  If I fled now the guilt would eventually kill me if Max was never found.

  I reached the van and peeked inside the driver’s side window. I couldn’t see into the back of the van. The front carriage was separate to the storage section.

  I ran towards the wall of the building the man had entered. Fortunately, there were windows further along the wall but they were too high. I found a steel cylinder drum nearby. I thought it might be too heavy to move but luckily it was empty so I rolled it up against the wall and turned it upright. I climbed on top of it and leaned in close to look through the windows.