by Liz Mistry
Shamila sat down and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Glancing between the two women, Tariq, pushed his hair back from his forehead before he spoke. Gus noticed that he’d softened his voice which lessened the tension in the room. ‘That was her idea.’ He gestured towards Shamila and grinned. ‘Told you she was the chair of vice.’ When he got no response from either woman, he continued, ‘She had this bright idea that in order to work our way through some of the issues we face, we should have first-hand experience of it… well as near to first-hand as we could get. We knew Si was having his party, and although we were invited, it didn’t seem like a good idea. So, Shamila asked Tayyub to record the party and edit it to illustrate how people behave when they’re drunk or stoned and out of control. We were going to use it at Friday’s meeting as an educational discussion point.’
Alice scowled. ‘Didn’t you think people might object to you showing them drunk or stoned in a video? Isn’t it an infringement of their civil liberties?’
Shamila looked down at the table and Tariq looked abashed. ‘We asked Tayyub to fuzz out the faces.’
‘Hmm, well. You won’t be getting your tape for your discussion group. A word of advice: next time you want to do that, use the telly as a resource. All the soaps have examples of free sex, booze, drugs, dealing drugs and the rest. Now, you’ll have to come down to that station to make a statement.’
Gus stood up and leaned over them forcing them to look up at him. ‘We will be keeping an eye on your group and we will consult with other departments to ensure your status as a youth group remains as innocent as you claim.’
Shamila looked up, wide eyed. ‘Are we in real trouble? Will I get a record? I want to go to uni and I won’t get in if I have a record.’
Alice grimaced. ‘No, you won’t get a record if you’re telling the truth, but do yourself a favour and think stuff through before you act.’
Gus, feeling they’d made their point and frightened the hell out of the kids in the process, decided to bring the tension levels back down. ‘Look, your group sounds like a good idea. Kicking ideas around with your peers is a productive thing to do. Truth is, if circumstances had been different and Simon Proctor’s party had gone off as planned, we wouldn’t be here. You’re not in trouble… yet, although we’ll need your statement and we will be investigating your group. So if there’s anything any of your members need to tell us, it would be better for them to come to us rather than let us find out ourselves.’
Shamila and Tariq began to get up. Gus shook his head and rummaged through a folder. ‘Before we go, look at these photos. Do you recognise any of them?’
The teenagers leaned over and studied the photos. ‘Are those the dead girls?’
‘Yeah, do you know them?’
Shamila, face pale, shook her head and looked away. Gus looked at Tariq. Tariq met his eyes, glanced down at the photos again and shook his head.
Gus frowned at the boy.
‘You sure?’
Tariq’s smile was forced as he gave a single nod.
Gus moved away from the table. ‘Okay, a full list of your members and a statement before the end of today, okay? Now Tariq, come and show us out of this maze, please.’
Tariq guided them back through the corridors to the car park. When they were outside, Gus turned to the lad. ‘Right then, young Tariq, who’s the girl in the photo and why were you so reluctant to ID her in front of Shamila? Is she a girlfriend or something?’
Tariq shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. ‘Course she’s not.’
‘You did recognise her?’
A shrug.
Gus sighed. ‘Look, she’s dead, Tariq. Tell us what you know, for God’s sake.’
Tariq shuffled his feet and shrugged again. ‘Don’t know her name, okay? I’ve seen her around though.’
‘Around where? Who with?’
He sighed and thrust his fingers through his hair. ‘Fuck’s sake, this is shit.’ He kicked the wall, then turned to Gus. ‘I’ve seen her with Adnan, okay? She was his girlfriend!’
‘Who’s Adnan and where will we find him?’
Tariq kicked the wall again. ‘Adnan is Shamila’s brother, in’t he? You’ll find him at her address, okay? Now, have you got enough?’
Gus patted him on the shoulder briefly before following Alice to the car. When they got in he turned in his seat to face her. ‘What do you reckon, Al?’
‘They’re just kids trying to make a difference. Tariq fancies his chances with Shamila. Shamila likes him but needs to loosen up a bit… oh, and we need to get anti-terrorism to check the group out, just in case. Not that I think they’ll throw anything up.’
That was almost word-for-word what Gus’ thoughts were. A bunch of kids trying to figure out who they were. Put his, Mo’s and Greg’s teenage efforts to shame. They’d been more interested in girls and smoking behind the bike sheds than trying to better their lives. How times change!
39
20:45 Marriners Drive
Gus leaned back and took a long swig of lager straight from the bottle. Alice took a more desultory sip of Zinfandel. They were sitting in his living room, having been exiled from the incident room by Compo, who was getting fed up with them asking if he’d got any further in narrowing down the source of the YouTube video. Whilst Taffy and Sampson had opted for a pint in The King’s Arms, Gus wanted to get back home for Bingo and Alice was happy to accompany him. He’d lit the stove as soon as they got in and the room was toasty. The arresting painting of Bob Marley with serpent dreads, that his dead friend Greg had painted, was illuminated by strategic lighting and hung in centre stage on the chimney breast. Gus had positioned the couch so it had the best view of the painting, and now he and Bingo were flopped on it, with Alice curled up in a chair opposite. ‘One hell of a day, huh, Alice?’
‘Well…’ Alice counted off on her fingers. ‘You survived not one but two PMs, and also notified both sets of parents of their children’s deaths. Had two ‘chats’ with the Proctors, one of which was to inform them that their son’s abductor had posted footage of the lad in a dank cell. However, look on the bright side. We’ve witnessed the two extremes of teenagers “playing out” with the vile footage Tayyub took, which contrasts with The Young Jihadists trying to make sense of their world. Basically, today has been a steep learning curve.’
Gus absent-mindedly stroked Bingo, who was burrowed against his left, nose resting on his knee. ‘Yeah, though we’re not a lot further forward with finding the missing boy, the bikers or Sue Downs’ killer. Not sure we should have held off for the foetal DNA, you know. Maybe we should have grabbed Adnan tonight.’
‘We’ll get more from the lad if we have the full picture. He’s not got a criminal history, is well behaved and, like his sister, won a bursary for Bradford Grammar School. He’s a low-flight risk. Besides, you’ve got uniforms keeping an eye on him for now.’
‘You’re right, Al. We need to make sure we’ve got everything lined up. Not sure a night in a cell for a fifteen-year-old lad is a great idea. We’ve only got one witness who has identified Adnan as going out with the dead girl, after all. Don’t want to be too heavy-handed at this stage. You’d think if there was substance to Tariq’s claims, that other kids would have come forward with the same info.’ Scratching Bingo’s ears, he grinned when the dog stuck out his tongue and licked his wrist before succumbing to more scratching with a wag of his tail. ‘Knowing our luck, the press will be all over us like fucking maggots on a dead donkey, now the second girl has been identified. That Jez Hopkins is the biggest maggot of all and he’d better steer well clear of me. Still not forgiven him for sneaking into the hospital to get an interview with my mum when she’d barely recovered from her ordeal. Insensitive little toe-rag!’
Alice choked and with tears streaming down her face, placed her glass on the table. Bingo jumped up and ran whimpering to the coughing girl. Gus leaned over and walloped her twice on the back, making her gasp for ai
r. ‘You alright, Al?’
Despite her paroxysm, she glared at him. ‘Ouch, that bloody hurt, Gus!’
Sitting back down, Gus took another swallow of lager to empty the bottle and placed it on the coffee table. ‘Was only trying to help. Thought you were going to choke to death and I can’t lose a member of my team. Not on this damn case.’
Wiping her eyes, Alice, her voice all mock innocence, said, ‘Patti was asking after you today.’
Gus’s cheeks grew warm and he feigned confusion. ‘Patti?’
Alice burst out laughing. ‘Don’t ‘Patti?’ me, Angus McGuire. You know damn well who I mean. Hell, even your ears have gone all red. Gus and Patti up a tree K.I.S.S.I.N.G.’
‘What are you? Ten? Grow the fuck up!’ and he walked through to the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge with her laughter ringing in his ears.
40
21:25 Marriners Drive
Knowles threw his still lit cigarette end out the car window and watched it sail down to land in a puddle where a quiet hiss extinguished it. The steamy whirls from his coffee were more a testament to how cold it was in his car than to how warm the coffee was. Nonetheless, he drank it. After all he’d bugger all else to do whilst he waited for Alice to come out. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was following Cooper. He wasn’t stalking her – just wanted to keep an eye on her. She’d humiliated him and he wasn’t going to take that lying down. He needed to find something incriminating to bring her down and if Jerry couldn’t come up with anything, then he’d have to do it himself. He was determined to bring that little whore to the ground with a huge, well-orchestrated bang. No more than she deserved! He rubbed his fingers over his still tender cheek.
A vibration near his thigh made him smile. Probably Jerry-old-mate with more ammunition for me to use. ‘Yeah.’
There was a second’s delay before Jerry spoke. ‘It’s me. Couldn’t get the actual report; however, I managed to find a loose-lipped DC in the same unit. Apparently, there were doubts about her suitability to be employed in tense or stressful situations where her life or that of a fellow officer could be at stake. In other words, she should be pen-pushing not taking up a DS position in a special unit.’
‘She must have got the all-clear in the end, though?’
‘The DC I spoke to hinted that they’d got rid of her ’cause she was a wreck. Couldn’t trust her judgement. Felt she wasn’t reliable. Were happy to send her up to the “Northern Powerhouse”.’
‘So, it was Brent’s choice to get rid of her, not her choice to move to Bradford?’
‘Seems like it.’
‘Okay, mate, thanks.’
Humming tunelessly, he pushed the phone back into his pocket. Bloody bitch was full of it right now. Wonder if any of her colleagues know just how much of a liability she was? He reckoned not. Well, he’d be happy to spread the word. In fact, he’d get on with that first thing in the morning. He knew a few loose-lipped coppers that’d soon get things moving. Cooper wouldn’t know what had hit her when the rumour mill got working.
He grinned, seeing her earlier on with Jez Hopkins had been a stroke of luck. He’d made sure to capitalise on her indiscretion by giving Hopkins some inside gen on the dead girls and the missing lad – anonymous of course. He was no damn fool!
TUESDAY
41
03:25 Unknown Location
Been dreaming! Dreaming about being found… Detectives slamming their way through the metal doors, guns drawn, flashlights piercing the darkness, bobbing round my cell, clearing the room, like the FBI. Christ, my heart’s hammering, can feel where my nails have dug right into my palms. Images of the parents weeping, faces contorted reaching out to me. Can almost smell mum’s floral perfume and the faint tang of dad’s sweat, like when he first comes home from work, before he’s had his shower. I like those odd wafts when he hugs me… got used to it over the years. Different from before when all I got were a thick ear… or worse! Wonder if I’ll see them again?
What the fuck’s that noise, though? Feel groggy as hell. What the fuck is it? I force my eyes open and strain my ears. Where’s it coming from? Not the rats. No, definitely not the rats. Fully awake now, I shrug the cover off, and struggle into a sitting position on the camp bed. Feel woozy again, must be the mildew… either that or the drugs. Noise is louder now. Can’t quite place it.
I reach down, fingers stretched wide and pat around on the floor for the torch. I find my trainers, first one then the other. Picking them up, I pull them onto my knee and keep feeling for the torch. Must’ve put the lamp off last night, ’cos it’s really dark. Can hardly see owt. Just them creepy shadows again… and the camera light. It’s gone green again. I look right at it and glare. Wonder if it caught my dream. Bet I looked like a right pillock. Hope I wasn’t too much like a fucking pussy. Don’t want my fans see me being a wuss. Gone off again now, anyway. Nowt I can do about it. I feel calm now. Not like before. When I were bricking it. Maybe it is the drugs.
Fucking racket, though. Wish it’d stop. Giving me a damn headache on top of the one I’ve already got. It’s like a whimpering child punctuated by the occasional dull thud. At last, the torch! I put my hand in front of the lens to dull the light, switch it on and point it towards the noise. At once it goes silent.
I study the bundle in the shadow on the floor in the middle of the room… a girl, half covered by an old blanket, lying on her stomach. How long has she been here?
She’s blindfolded and gagged. As if sensing me looking at her, she turns her head and tries to lift it from the floor. Her cracked lips carry a bluish tinge. Blood soaks the dirty rag that strains between her teeth, stretching her mouth open in a gargoyle’s grimace, face bruised, one cheek swollen. From beneath the blindfold a single tear rolls, making the dirt on her face streak.
At first, I don’t know what to do. At least she’s not dead… not like the others. She’s one lucky cow!
I shimmy over her and grip the edge of the blanket. It’s damp against my fingers. In one swift movement, I yank it off, recoiling as a pissy whiff hits my nose. What the fuck? Has she pissed herself?
She’s grunting and groaning and trying to struggle. Probably scared shitless! Not that she can move much because she’s hog tied. I reach out one hand and rest it on her forehead. It’s clammy despite the penetrating cold and she struggles more, shivering and moaning. I’m scared to speak, so I focus on trying to untie her ankles. Stupid, fat, frozen fingers won’t move. I’m fumbling, drawing more blood as she struggles against me. Fucking stay still, will you? Can’t untie you if you’re moving about like a jellyfish on speed.
42
07:25 The Fort
Alice glanced at her watch as she scurried over the road, thankful for the red light that had stopped the traffic. The Chaat Café wasn’t officially open so early in the morning, but Ken, the chef, always made an exception for Alice. Waiting for her usual pain au chocolat and steamy full fat cappuccino to go, she nabbed Ken’s newspaper and flicked it open at the front page.
‘Oh fuck!’ Her eyes skimmed the page – although the headlines had told her everything she needed to know.
Ken glanced over from the frothing machine. ‘Alright there, Alice, love?’
She glowered and shook her head, ‘Actually, not so good, Ken. There’s a shitload of trouble waiting to fall and I’ve got a horrible feeling, some, if not all of it, is going to land on my head.’ Ken studied her woebegone face, popped an extra pain au chocolat into the paper bag and said, ‘There you go, that’ll cheer you up.’
Wishing wholeheartedly that he was right, Alice, balancing her bag and coffee in front of her, retraced her steps and made her way across Lilycroft Road to The Fort. This was not how she’d anticipated her day panning out. She’d wakened that morning feeling positive that things would move forward on the case.
Now she was cursing her meeting with Jez Hopkins the previous day. Why had she let her guard down with him yesterday? Just because he’d looked cute with ra
in pouring down his face and his hair plastered to his forehead? She’d been taken in. Not that they’d spoken about the case – she’d made certain he knew not to go there, yet it seemed someone had been talking and now it would look like it was her. She could only hope no-one had seen them together.
Dragging her feet, Alice took the stairs for once, barely ignoring Hardeep’s cheery greeting as she entered the station. Pushing the door to the incident room open, she sighed. Thank God, Gus wasn’t there yet. Keeping her head down, she ignored Sampson and Compo’s greetings and hurried over to her desk, hoping that when the shit fell, it would offer her a modicum of protection from Gus’ wrath.
She’d barely settled herself when Gus strode purposefully through the door, hair bouncing like a mane round his head. Without breaking stride, he walked to the middle of the room and flung a pile of newspapers onto the table with a resounding thud.
A prickle raced up Alice’s back. It was horrible when Gus was in a bad mood and she couldn’t shake the guilt that clenched like a febrile crab in her stomach. She really had to get a grip. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong. It wasn’t her who’d leaked the stuff to Jez Hopkins. She only hoped Gus would believe her.
‘What the fuck is this?’ He picked up the top paper and threw it to Sampson. The next one landed unceremoniously on Alice’s desk, while another one flew over her head to land on the floor beside Compo. A further paper landed just short of Taffy’s desk and finally Gus stood holding The Chronicle up in front of him so they could all read the headlines. His finger stabbed accusingly at the by-line.
‘See this? It says Jez Hopkins.’
He shook the paper and then stabbed his finger at a piece of writing halfway down the first paragraph. ‘And see this? It fucking well says, and I quote, “A source close to the investigation admits they are no further forward in solving either the murder of Sue Downs, Jade Simmonds or the disappearance of Simon Proctor.”’ He glared round at them, blue eyes clouded dark, a ferocious lion berating his pride.
