by Liz Mistry
Right, so, have we left forensic evidence behind, Jo Jo and me? We covered up; we wore gloves. Jo Jo made sure we weren’t spotted. As near as I could make out, we’re okay – in the clear. So why do I feel like crap?
It’ll be all over the news tomorrow. They’ll all be chatting shit about it at school – maybe I’ll skip school – maybe get Jo Jo to bunk off too. Couldn’t care less about my exams, couldn’t care less about anything. Shit, Zarqa, don’t be soft. Course you can’t bunk off school with Jo Jo – that’d be a sure way of drawing attention to yourself. Get a fucking grip! Got to act normal. Like nowt’s happened.
I pull my knees tighter under my chin and try to breathe slowly. There’s nothing pointing to us. They’ll put it down to another hate crime, that’s all. All Jo Jo and I need to do is brazen it out and not crack. So what if it’s on the news? So what if everybody’s talking about it? It’s nowt to do with us. We’ll keep our heads down until it all blows over. I mean how long can it all last?
I begin to rock on my bum. My eyes start to fill with tears, and I open my mouth and bite my knee to stop the sobs that want to break out from escaping. What we did was bad… really bad, but it’s done now. There’s nothing we can do about it, except stay schtum.
CHAPTER 11
B y the time Gus and Taffy got back to The Fort from the crime scene, they knew the victim’s identity. When he hadn’t returned home by eleven, Pratab Patel’s parents had turned up at The Fort to report him missing. It took only a quick glance at one of the photos on Mrs Patel’s phone to wrench their fragile hope away.
Grieving parents shouldn’t be interviewed in a police station, yet Gus had no choice. They needed as much information as they could extract, and grieving would have to come second to expediency for now. Although he hated it, this was one job Gus couldn’t delegate, so he took Pratab’s parents into the coolest, most comfortable room they had. Like it mattered which room you were in when your heart was broken into a trillion pieces. As if they’d ever be truly comfortable again.
Mrs Patel, hair bundled up in a loose top knot sat tearless, clasping and unclasping her hands while Gus made drinks which would remain untouched. By the time Gus sat opposite them, her hands were still, and she sat, straight shouldered, looking directly at him. She was the strong one, maintaining her composure, although her lips were tight and tell-tale lines furrowed her brow. On entering the room, Mr Patel had collapsed in a heap on the couch and remained scrunched in on himself, a low keening sound his only response to Gus’ questions.
As his wife soothed him, speaking all the time in Gujarati, holding his head to her chest, patting his hair as he sobbed, Gus felt like an intruder. He sipped tea he didn’t want and waited until Mr Patel’s blinding grief turned to numbness before speaking. ‘Where was Pratab supposed to be this evening?’
Mrs Patel, gripping her husband’s hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white, spoke quietly, her voice shaking over every word. ‘Pratab said he was going to study at his friend Haider’s house because they have…’ realising her mistake she inhaled sharply. ‘I mean had a maths exam tomorrow. When he hadn’t returned by nine, we phoned round, but he hadn’t turned up at his friend’s, had never had an arrangement to study there. He lied to us and now…’
Tears trickled down her face and releasing her husband’s hand she brushed them away with the back of her own hand. Gus suspected that the knowledge of that lie would haunt her for a long time to come… that and the what ifs that always accompanied a violent death. There was nothing he could do to soothe her, but he wished that even just for a few seconds, Mr Patel would respond to his wife’s grief instead of allowing his own to swallow him up.
As if sensing Gus’ thoughts, Mrs Patel sniffed and gripped her husband’s hand again. ‘Manoj is unwell. He suffers from anxiety and depression. This is too difficult for him to deal with. I need to take him home. I need to tell my other children what has happened… how will I do that, Detective McGuire?’
Helpless and ineffectual, Gus spoke words that he realised offered little comfort. ‘All you can do is tell them the truth and then be there for each other.’
He waited a few moments and then said, ‘I need to ask a few more things. Will you be all right?’
A gentle smile crossed her lips and she nodded. ‘I just want to find out who did this to my boy. Ask anything you like.’
‘Has Pratab seemed different recently? Anything out of the ordinary? Behaving erratically? Worried, anxious… anything?’
‘Maybe a little anxious. We put it down to the stress of his GCSEs. He’s been a bit distant. Skipping meals and things… but nothing major. Nothing that made us feel he was at risk. He’s a good boy is Pratab. Set to get A*s in his exams.’
‘You have other children?’
‘Yes. Kiran is seventeen, nearly eighteen, and Mita is fifteen. We wanted to have them close together. Wanted them to be close growing up.’
Those poor kids to lose a brother like that.
‘I have to ask a few more things. Was Pratab happy at school? Any new friends? No staying out later than normal? Playing up? A girlfriend?’
As expected, those questions had Mrs Patel bristling. No parent likes the hint that their child might be misbehaving, and no grieving parent wants to address their dead child’s imperfections. Her lips tightened and a pulse at the side of her face twitched.
‘My son is dead and you’re hinting that he’s somehow to blame?’
It didn’t matter how prepared he was for this reaction, Gus hated having to ask the questions. ‘I’m not for one minute suggesting Pratab is to blame. The only person to blame is the one who did this to him… and we’ll do our best to find out who that is. However, if there is anything, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant that sticks in your mind, it could help us find his killer. I know this is hard and you’re doing so well. Think about it overnight and if you remember anything at all, just let us know.’
‘Can we go, now? We really need to go… Kiran and Mita… you know?’
Gus nodded. ‘I’ll allocate a Family Liaison Officer. Her role will be to liaise between you and us, but I will come to see you tomorrow. I’ll want to talk to your other children and get more of a sense of who Pratab was.’
She nodded and stood up, gently cajoling her husband to his feet. Mr Patel wobbled and looked like he might collapse. Gus stepped forward and took his other arm. ‘Will you be okay getting home? I can get a patrol car to take you.’
‘If you can help me to the car, Kiran will help us when we get home. It’s not far. I can drive. I’d rather have the car with me… just in case.’
Escorting them to their vehicle, Gus walked slowly and with his hand under Mr Patel’s elbow, Gus could feel the grief wracking the man’s body. He swore that whoever had destroyed this family’s happiness would be brought to justice.
MONDAY
CHAPTER 12
E very stride was like slicing through a brick wall with a butter knife and Gus wasn’t entirely sure why he was putting himself through it. Not five minutes away from his front door, he had only just entered Lister Park through the Emm Lane entrance and already his face was oozing sweat, and his T-shirt was clinging to him. Even the traffic seemed lethargic along Bradford Road, as if it was waiting for a storm to break. Hell, they’d been waiting for one to break for days and nothing had materialised.
It had been a long route to recovery since he’d been stabbed in February and, even now, he felt an acute stab of pain when he jogged; a pulling sensation from his upper thigh to his groin as the scar tissue mended. Still, this was his time. The time for him to think and after the anonymous note and the dead boy who had been discovered yesterday, he had plenty to think about.
Of course, there was Gabriella too. What the hell was she playing at, phoning him after all this time? He’d nearly fired off a text to his sister telling her to make Gaby stop hassling him, but he’d reconsidered. Last thing he needed was to get drawn into their dramas�
� not when he’d just landed a murder case. He could ring Gaby’s bloody neck for the way she’d behaved at her brother’s funeral… the things she’d said to him. Did she really want him to turn a blind eye to her murdering brother’s misdeeds? His pace increased making his chest tighten and his muscles pull. He was aware that it was because he was thinking about Gaby and so he deliberately slowed a little. Just a damn pity the oppressive heat made his jog so much harder. Determined not to let the heat beat him, he made an impulse decision to add an extra circuit of the boating lake before heading up and past Cartwright Hall to work.
He swerved right and, seconds later, groaned as he felt the slight incline pull his leg muscles again. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the burn and soon he was on the level, heading past the ducks and swans that had gathered at the top end of the pond near the islands. Warmth filled the air with a mulchy smell which, combined with the ammonia from the generous deposits made by the geese, had Gus breathing shallowly through his mouth. Dodging the excrement was hazardous and he slipped a couple of times. The park was busy, although mainly with power walkers who had seemingly slowed their pace in deference to the heat. Most were going in the opposite direction from Gus, so he waved and nodded at the few regulars he encountered. A few school kids sauntered around or sat, phones in hand, on the benches, some in uniform and some, clearly on exam leave, wearing shorts and T-shirts.
He’d nearly completed his self-enforced circle of the pond, when he saw that one of the benches ahead was inhabited by two familiar forms, their sleeping bags rolled up and tied with string on the floor at their feet. Smiling, Gus slowed as he approached. He’d not seen Dave and Jerry for a few weeks and was keen to make sure they were all right. During the Beast from the East, things had hit crisis point for Dave and he’d ended up in Lynfield Mount for a while. Now, Gus was pleased to see that he looked chubbier and rosier than when he’d last seen him. ‘Hi, you two. Sunbathing?’
Jerry chortled, deep and low, his eyes sparkling as he replied. ‘Sun gods, that’s what we are, in’t we, Dave?’
Gus turned his attention to Dave who gave an abrupt nod. For Dave, that was positively gregarious, and Gus was happy to see it. The homeless man’s eyes were clear today and it was fair to assume that Jerry was keeping on top of his mate’s meds. Gus had enlisted Mo’s help in ensuring that the two old men had a regular supply of food and hot drinks during the winter, but now that the weather was so hot, Gus was more concerned that they’d dehydrate. He slipped off the small backpack he carried when jogging and took out two bottles of water. Handing one to each man, he was pleased to see no hesitancy from Dave when he accepted it. ‘Keep your fluids up, yeah?’
Jerry grinned, opened the bottle, and took a hearty swig. Dave, after a quick glance at his friend, did likewise. ‘Wanted to talk to you, Gus.’
Jerry had lowered his voice and began kicking the ground in front of the bench. The toe of his plimsoll flapped as his foot moved, prompting Gus to make a mental note to check if his old man had any spare shoes. He reckoned Jerry’s feet were about the same size as his dad’s. ‘Yeah? Is something up?’
Jerry exchanged a quick glance with Dave, who nodded once before folding his arms over his chest and staring into the distance.
This was odd. ‘You two okay?’
Jerry sighed and raised his head to look at straight at Gus. ‘It’s a bit sensitive like, Gus.’
Sensitive? Okay. ‘You can tell me anything, Jerry. You know that. We’re mates, aren’t we?’
‘Well yeah, course I know that. You and Mo and me and Dave… we’re all mates together. Thing is, I don’t want to get her into bother.’
Now Gus was well puzzled. ‘Get who into bother?’
‘That young lass of his. His oldest one. The one who helps out in the café sometimes. Zarqa.’
‘Zarqa?’ What the hell’s she been up to now? Had Jerry and Dave seen her with a lad or something? They were always a bit protective of Mo and Gus’ families.
Jerry sniffed. ‘Saw her last night, jogging down from Lilycroft Road like she was being chased by the hounds of hell. Not right that. Young lass like her should be home before it gets dark.’
Dave emitted a growl from the depths of his chest and judging by the succession of quick nods that accompanied the rumble of sound, he was in complete agreement with his friend.
Jerry continued, a worried frown creasing his tanned forehead, ‘Looked frightened she did.’
That wasn’t like Mo to let Zarqa stay out late on her own, but then that was before she’d decided to act out. ‘You sure it was her?’
‘Yep, that oldest lass of his. It was after dark and you know what Oak Lane’s like after closing time.’
Dark? After closing time? What the hell had Zarqa been out so late for? Wasn’t it GCSE time? And did Mo even know anything about it? ‘Was it that late then?’
Jerry shrugged and, surprisingly, it was Dave who answered. ‘After eleven… too late.’
Seeing that it was preying on the two men’s minds, Gus smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll speak to Mo about it. Teenagers, huh? They’re always playing up.’
‘You talk to Mo today, Gus. He’s worried about her. I can tell. She’s not been in the café recently. I think summat’s up.’
Jerry was right. Something was up and he was glad that Jerry had shared this information with him. ‘I’m on it. Now, are you two managing to get beds in one of the hostels?’
A grin flashed across Jerry’s face and he nudged his friend, giggling a little. ‘Nope. Why would we do that? Dave and I like to sleep with the stars above us and in this weather that’s no hardship, is it?’
The man’s smile was contagious, and Gus found himself responding with a grin of his own. ‘No, I suppose not. Just be safe, won’t you? You still got that phone?’
Jerry tapped his coat pocket. ‘Yes, sir!’ And he did a mock salute, before relenting and adding, ‘Mo lets us charge it up in his café and I make sure I keep it on at least two bars.’
Gus had tried to keep moving while talking to the men, but he could feel his legs stiffening. ‘All right then, I’m off. Got work to do. Don’t want to get sacked now, do I?’
As he headed up through the Botanic Gardens and past the bandstand, he made a mental note to speak to Zarqa first. Time he took this godfather job a bit more seriously than he had in recent months. When it had all kicked off at Mo’s house, he’d thought that things would sort themselves out. Mo and Naila had always had a close relationship with their kids… sometimes though, events could put an almost unbearable strain on them and so maybe now was the time for an intervention, before Zarqa did something really stupid.
CHAPTER 13
Zodiac
A drenalin kept me up most of the night. Kept going over and over it, reliving every second. Each time, I remembered something new, something more. I’ve covered my tracks, so I’m not worried about that. No clues left behind, I’m sure of it… don’t know about the others though, but that’s all part of the plan. What we did was so bad… but sooo good too. The heat… the excitement… the pressure… I thought I was going to explode. Well, I certainly did that when I got home… exploded that is… twice.
Teamwork, that’s what it was… but every team needs a leader and thank fuck, I was up to the mark.
Feel a bit flat now… deflated. Never mind though. I know just the thing. It’s easy to sneak out early. I creep downstairs while it’s all quiet. Nobody will notice I’m gone… why would they? The only time I’m noticed is when I’ve done something wrong. With any luck, I’ll be back before breakfast.
Ping!
Pisces: You awake? Need to talk! Feel crap.
What a div! Can’t be doing with Pisces’ shit right now. Dumbass. Anyway, I’ve got stuff to do… lots of stuff! I check in my bag to make sure I’ve got everything. Shoes on, I grab a couple of croissants and an energy drink and, careful not to bang the door behind me, I step outside. Fucking boiling again. Suits me though. I like the s
un. Gives me an excuse to be outside… to loiter, so I can keep an eye on things.
Doesn’t take long for me to get to where I need to be. The café’s not open yet, but I’ve brought my own breakfast. I sit down on one of the benches and share my croissants with the ducks.
Ping!
Pisces: Can you answer, Zodiac? I’m losing it. Like Bigtime. Need to talk to you. Talk to someone.
Fuck’s sake! Can you believe this shit? I think about ignoring the text, then reconsider. What if the idiot falls apart?
Me: Hold tight. You did so good last night. Really good. I’m so impressed. You were better than Leo. No doubt about it. You just gotta hang in there, okay? I’ll see you at school, right?
Needy, dumbass, div. I grin. The one thing I enjoy more than anything else is setting them off against each other… playing favourites. They’re both so needy but in different ways. That’s why I chose them.
Headphones in, I check my social media. Instagram first. Boy, do I have some pictures I could share! I laugh. Even the thought of everyone’s reaction makes me grin. But, no. I’m not going to indulge myself… not yet, anyway. I’ll save that image and use it for maximum effect, when the time’s right.
That’s the thing, if you do something too early, you mess up. Timing is everything. You get the timing right and you’ve nailed it – maximum effect – maximum chaos – maximum satisfaction for me. I move over to Facebook and scroll down.
Shit… shit…
Like…
Crap…
Like…
Smiley Face…
Rubbish… shit… shit…
Love Heart…
Boring… tedious… shit!
Then it gets interesting. It’s leaked on Facebook and the vacuous comments start. Love that word vacuous… it was the word of the day last week in school. Sums up this situation perfectly. Vacuous comments for a vacuous piece of shit!
