by Liz Mistry
Gus waited until Haider’s mum and dad had left the room and then called the boy back with a, ‘You need to sign this.’
Haider shuffled back to Gus and, despite his affected swag, he avoided meeting Gus’ eyes as he grabbed the pen and bent over the table to sign the form.
Glancing to make sure his parents were out of earshot; Gus lowered his voice. ‘As long as you have nothing illegal or incriminating on your phone, your parents will never learn of anything else we find. We’re not looking for pornography – as long as it’s legal, nor stupid texts about weed use – for example.’
Haider’s head jerked up and for the first time since he’d handed over his phone, he met Gus’ eyes and nodded. A small smile lifted his lips for a moment and then disappeared. ‘Pratab won’t be sitting in the hall doing his exam this morning.’
Gus put a hand on the lad’s shoulder and squeezed. The empty desk would be a distraction for all of Pratab’s friends. ‘Just do your best, Haider. It’s all you can do.’
Sniffing, Haider handed the pen and paper back to Gus. ‘Just find the bastard who did this.’
Gus waited until the lad joined his parents and then said, ‘You know the information you’ve shared is important?’
All three of them nodded.
‘Well, you need to keep this to yourself, all right? You can’t share it with anyone – not your friends, no one. You could get in bother if you do. It could be critical to finding out what happened to your friend.’
Dr Ayyub put an arm round his son’s shoulder. ‘We won’t repeat this. The last thing we want is to interfere with your investigation.’
Gus hoped that was true. However, he suspected that once the initial shock had worn off, Haider might be tempted to share his knowledge with his friends and then it would, without doubt, grace the front pages of the tabloids.
CHAPTER 20
Pisces
I never slept a wink. How could I? How am I supposed to go to school after all this? Act normal? Zodiac will be there and the last thing I need is that. I can’t get up. I need a shower, but I can’t have another one, not so soon and I had to have one last night. It was like I had blood all over me. Like it was everywhere. It wasn’t, really. I knew that, but I still needed to wash it off. I used the last of the shampoo and the water was freezing but I deserved it.
How can they not care? Specially Leo? We all just do what Zodiac says… but do we? We’re the ones came up with the names. Came up with the game. We’re the bad ones. It’s all on us. Zodiac just keeps us to task. When we started, it was a laugh. Getting folk in trouble, getting our own back. We only chose the ones who deserved it. Then it got worse. Mr Borthwick ending up in prison was okay. He deserved it but posting the photos of Becky online… outing her as Mr Borthwick’s tart, that wasn’t nice. Yeah, she’d dumped Leo, said some bad things, done some worse things, but that was bad. She were off school for months after and then she only came back for a few weeks and then moved to another school.
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
Fucking Instagram! They’re all over it. Posting photos of Pratab with stupid love hearts round them.
RIP Pratab you’ll be missed! Tom :-(
Best mate in the world. Miss you! Jamie Grieves :-(
You’ll always be in my heart, xxxxxxxxxx!
Play with the Angles! Sally
Spelled angles… Twat can’t even spell angels right.
Maybe I’ll add her to the Zodiac Club hit list… Fuck, what am I thinking?
I’m a knobhead, I am. I’m not adding no one else to the list. Soon as these are done, so am I.
Billy though? Billy was all my fault. He’d made my life hell. Calling me names. I really wanted to hurt him. I wanted him dead, I really did… but then… he was dead and all I could think was that I wished he were back at school being a wanker. That would’ve been better than him being gone. I visit his grave sometimes after school. Hard to believe he’s down there with all the worms and shit. There’ll be nowt left of him. I looked it up one day in the library. Just his bones and a few scraps of skin and his hair.
I scroll through Facebook. Fuck’s sake. They’re all posting to his timeline too. Fucking tossers. Half of them don’t even know him, I bet!
Heaven will be a better place with you in it! Love Holly xxx
Can’t believe I’ll never see your face again. Miss you forever! Love Sonal xxx
:-( :-(
Miss you mate, Haider :-(
The Angels will protect you, Love Krishna and Trupti xxx
Could’ve done with the effing angels last night, couldn’t you, Pratab? I realise I’m laughing at nothing and shove my fist in my mouth. Shut up! Get a grip! Get an effing grip!
What am I going to do? If I don’t go to school, Zodiac will kill me… not literally. Well, maybe not literally. I keep having flashbacks. We put the pills in the voddie. Leo ground them up at home and we put them in before we got there. We gave him some weed, and the bottle and he was being a knobhead, as usual. I was shit scared… nervous. He was such a wanker though… such a dick!
Leo was jumping about like it was a bloody rave or summat. All hyped up like we were there to party… downed a couple of pills too, I reckon. When it was time, I thought one of us would say no, stop. I waited. I looked at Leo. I looked at Zodiac… but no.
When the knife went in, it hardly made a sound. Still can’t believe it. The Snapchat… can’t remember whose idea that was. Part of the plan… part of the fucking plan. Did I suggest that? Was it me? It could’ve been. I just can’t remember now. Then it’s spurting out, over the handle, over the hand… blood… fucking blood everywhere. And they’re laughing… we’re laughing. Pratab’s dead… lying there dead, with his hands tied up and we’re moving his body, cutting the ties off, making him just right and taking fucking Snapchats on his phone.
I get up. I’ve got to get sorted. Got to get ready for school. Got to do it… it’s all part of the plan and we can’t deviate from the fucking plan.
CHAPTER 21
‘B
oss wants to see you, Gus – asap.’ Gus paused, coffee pot mid-pour.
‘Nancy?’ His heart skipped a beat, maybe she had sorted out Professor Carlton. No, too soon. Some news on Alice, then? Perhaps Alice was coming back, but Compo’s next words dashed those hopes.
‘Nah, the DCS.’
It wasn’t even half eight and she was on his case. Gus continued pouring his drink and moved over to sit behind his desk. He hadn’t had breakfast after jogging up to work. He’d had a quick shower, met with Nancy, and immediately went into the interview with Haider. He was starving and now he had to go and see the DCS? Well, she can surely wait ten minutes, couldn’t she? He grabbed a cereal bar from his drawer and ripped it open, just as his stomach growled. Leaning back in his chair, he balanced his feet on his desk and took a sip of his coffee. He needed a bit of time to absorb everything Haider had told him about Pratab. Changes in behaviour in teen boys was always something to watch out for, but in this particular instance suicide wasn’t an option. It seemed like Pratab had fallen into the wrong crowd… maybe got in over his head? Or, maybe it was a chance encounter? A predator?
Gus shook his head and took a bite of his breakfast bar. No, that didn’t sit right with him. The location, for one, seemed too out of the way to be a chance encounter and the CSIs hadn’t seen anything to indicate Pratab had been dragged from the main road to the back of the house. Was it a drug deal gone wrong? Again, that didn’t explain the way the body had been positioned after death and, according to Haider, after the Snapchat had been sent. That was another thing… why send a Snapchat at all? At that point, nobody even knew he was missing and surely sending the Snapchat to a family member would have been more effective if the aim was just to shock.
His desk phone rang, interrupting Gus’ train of thought. He swung his legs off his desk and grabbed the receiver. ‘DI Gus McGuire. How can I help?’
‘Well, perha
ps answering your mobile would be a start.’
Recognising the sarcastic tones, Gus glared at the phone. DCS Gazala Bashir didn’t sound very happy. Not that that was unusual in itself… still, her snarky tone put Gus on edge. Truth was he’d switched his mobile on vibrate the previous evening after he left the crime scene because he was fed up listening to ‘The Bitch is Back’ blaring from it. He’d known the DCS was trying to contact him but had chosen to defer replying. ‘I’ve been in an interview this morning. Seems that whoever killed Pratab Patel sent a Snapchat of the body to one of the mates of the victim last night.’
‘Hmm, DS Compton mentioned that you were in interview…’
For a moment Gus wondered who the hell DS Compton was, then he realised… Compo. Why the hell couldn’t she just call him Compo like everyone else did?
‘…seems strange that the boy only came in this morning. Is he a suspect?’
‘Well, clearly we can’t rule him out completely, but he has an alibi – dinner with his extended family – and the reason he didn’t report it last night is because he thought it was a prank. The thing is with Snapchat, the sender decides how long you view the live ‘Snap’ for, and you can only see it twice before it’s deleted automatically. Lad says it was only on screen for a second and last thing he thought of was screenshotting it.’
‘Well, that’s as may be, but you need to double check his alibi. Can’t have a young lad being killed and we’re not on the ball…’
And there it was… The real reason for her call. Bashir was a micromanager like he’d never come across before and it rankled. Gus was used to being trusted to do his job. Nancy trusted his judgement and he had a track record to back it up. Yet ever since she’d arrived, DCS Bashir had been at great pains to second guess him, question his actions, and make him justify his decisions. That really pissed him off. He’d no time to be filling in reports, then heading up two floors to her office to repeat the written report verbally. Nancy had tried to have a word with her, but Bashir was insistent that she wanted to have her ear to the ground.
Sitting straighter, Gus rolled his chair further under his desk and shook his mouse to activate his screen. What he really wanted to do was respond with a breathy sort of ‘…OMG! I didn’t think of that! God! I see why you’re sat up there in the ivory tower and I’m boiling my arse off in an overheated, smelly investigation room with no air con.’
Instead, he took a deep breath before replying, every word sticking in his throat. ‘Yes, Ma’am, I’ve actioned a check on that already. Uniforms are taking statements at Haider’s home.’
‘And you’ve kept him here, haven’t you?’
Gus bristled and tried not to feel like he’d been caught out. ‘Actually, no. I’ve allowed him to go into school so he can sit his maths GCSE. No point in him missing it.’
For a moment there was silence and he could imagine the wheels turning in Gazala Bashir’s head before she said, her tone grudging, ‘Right. Good call. You seem to have this under control and right now I’ve got my work cut out with public relations after the graffiti on the mosque last night.’
Gus took that as a dismissal and was about to hang up when…
‘What I actually phoned for was, I want you to come to my office… there’s something I need to discuss with you. Shall we say…’ The sound of her shuffling papers on her desk drifted down the line… ‘five minutes?’ And without waiting for his reply she hung up.
‘You all right, Boss – it’s just, you’ve gone all red in the face.’
Gus frowned at his colleague. He didn’t need Compo telling him how he looked, he could feel the steam coming from his ears. Seeing Compo’s grin as the lad popped his ear buds back in, Gus relaxed. Cheeky sod was teasing him.
‘Gotta go upstairs, Comps, you crack on with those phones, will you? And tell Taff you and I are going to head out to the Patel family and then City Academy. He can join us there before starting on the CCTV footage when he gets back from the PM.’
Draining his coffee mug, Gus stood and then hesitated for a moment. Should he remove his bandana before his meeting with the DCS? He snorted and strode to the door. When she got the damn air con working, then he’d take off his bandana, until then, tough shit.
He took the lift up to the DCS’ floor and strode along the carpeted corridor to her office, noting as he went that there was a distinct waft of cool air along this corridor and an equally distinct lack of BO… the perks of being top brass, eh?
From outside her open door he could hear her speaking on the phone. He raised his hand ready to do a perfunctory rap on the door, when she glanced up and saw him. She waved him in with one hand and gestured to a chair on the opposite side of her desk.
Gus sat and allowed the conversation she was having, presumably with her daughter, to drift over him, as he surveyed her office. A familiar perfume filled the room.
‘…well, where were you? All I ask is that you’ll let me know…’ She tapped her pen on the desk, head tilted to one side. ‘…I know you’ll try your…’
Her desk was wood and covered with paperwork, folders piled up to one side and an in-tray that was overflowing… perhaps if she didn’t spend so much time micromanaging him, she’d be on top of her paperwork.
‘…I didn’t say that and that’s not what I meant. You know I think you’ll do well… I just wish you’d maybe studied a bit more… you skipped breakfast.’
Gus’ eyes drifted over various awards framed in silver that lined up symmetrically on the wall next to her bookshelf. He wondered if she’d deliberately hold off framing one if it would unbalance the display. Everything he’d gleaned about Gazala Bashir in the months since she’d joined Bradford Met spoke of a regimented personality.
‘Mehmoona, I know you won’t mess up again… why should you? We’ve moved on from that… It’s in the past.’
There was one picture of her with her daughter on the bookshelf alongside various well-thumbed policing manuals. Gus recognised the girl from when she’d come into the office earlier in the year. He smirked, remembering how he’d shared a smile with the daughter when his mum’s dogs had jumped up at her mum, leaving a dark wet patch on her skirt.
‘Look, we’ll talk tonight, and you can tell me all about your exam. Good luck, Meh—’
She shrugged and threw her phone onto the desk, before, with the first hint of a smile Gus had ever seen from her, saying, ‘Kids, huh? Who’d have them?’
Hoping that his smile was sympathetic rather than gloating, Gus shook his head but remained silent.
Closing her eyes for a moment as if to gather her thoughts, Bashir tapped her fingers on the table. ‘I hear you’ve been receiving anonymous letters and that the last one was delivered directly to your home?’
Shit! Someone had spilled the beans to her. This was the last thing he wanted. If he knew anything about DCS Bashir, it was that she was meticulous when it came to sticking to the rules. She was about to warn him off looking into it on his own. He opened his mouth to insist on his involvement, when she stuck a pin in his balloon. ‘Do you think it’s your ex-wife?’
Eh? Where had that come from? Gaby was a bitch, sure enough, but even she wouldn’t stoop to sending him anonymous letters. No, if Gaby had something to say to him, then she wouldn’t hang back… which, of course, was the main reason he was deflecting her calls. You never knew what you were going to get with her, and he just couldn’t be arsed with her dramatics. ‘No, no. It’s not Gabriella. Not her style – Bitch, yes, anonymous stalker, most definitely no.’
Bashir steepled her hands at her mouth. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive.’
She nodded. ‘Okaaay… well, you’ve handed everything over to C team and DI Byrne is very capable… still – you need to be involved in a purely advisory role.’
To say Gus was surprised would have been an understatement. He’d expected to be warned off and yet here she was telling him to be involved.
‘You must have crossed pat
hs with this person and so you’re best placed to know who it is. Another thought that did cross my mind was that it was something to do with the Russians or Syrians after you kyboshed their attempts to buy that bioweapon.’
Gus scratched his forehead. Yeah right, I can really see the Russians and Syrians sending me scented letters. ‘Again, no, Ma’am. If they were pissed at me, they’d be a hell of a lot more direct and a hell of a lot more threatening. At the moment, these letters are more conversational with mildly threatening observations. It’s someone local… not a terrorist organisation.’
‘I won’t take any sort of threat to one of my officers lightly. I’ve arranged for extra drive-bys at your home, your parents’ home, and your girlfriend’s home, until we find out who is doing this. I expect you to be extra vigilant in the meantime. Now, if you’re happy to liaise with Byrne then—’
She abruptly turned to her paperwork without finishing her sentence and Gus realised he’d been dismissed. As he made his way back downstairs, he wondered what had just happened. A DCS taking an extra interest in his welfare was surprising… but very refreshing. Perhaps she wasn’t as bad as he imagined. That warm fuzzy feeling lasted until he got back to find his desk phone ringing. He snatched up the receiver.
‘Turn your damn mobile on, McGuire…’ And once more she hung up before he had the chance to reply.
CHAPTER 22
Zodiac
T hey’re all crowding past us. Some have come off the bus, the rest have grabbed their breakfast at Lidl and they’re all laughing and joking. The thick smell of nicotine hangs in the air as they have their last fags before entering school property… banter, jokes, kids mucking around. Lynx, BO, perfume, weed…
I don’t mind talking about ‘it’ as we walk. It being what we got up to last night, but the way Pisces is acting, you’d think I’m parading up and down outside the school with a loudhailer instead of whispering. After the texts earlier, I thought all we’d be doing is talking about it, but Pisces is scared people will hear. I keep saying, ‘We’re invisible, chillax.’ But the div’s too pussy.
