Unseen Evil

by Liz Mistry

  ‘Looking for something, Kiran?’

  Fucking little bitch beat me to it! What am I gonna do now?

  CHAPTER 69

  O f course, Jo Jo tried to run. Gus was expecting it and took off after him, elbowing aside the bruiser who’d been loitering outside Jo Jo’s home. The lad had gangster written all over him and it gave Gus pleasure to have an excuse to land one in his belly. Who knew why he was staking out Jo Jo’s home, but it would, no doubt, be for some gang related reason or other.

  Jo Jo was faster than Gus had expected, as he took off down the street and further into the estate. Aware of the two uniformed officers pounding the concrete after him, Gus focussed on the lad in front. The officers, with their kit, carried an extra twenty pounds, which although it offered them protection, close up, it definitely slowed them down. Gus’ stab vest was heavy, but he hadn’t bothered with all the other paraphernalia and he wondered how the hell they managed, particularly in this heat.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Gus had spotted a red-haired freckled face peering out from behind the lad before he’d taken off. Gus presumed Alice had remained with the little girl and now her plaintive cries followed him, getting fainter as he gained on her brother. He was just wondering if he could summon a final spurt to get within tackling distance of the lad, when Jo Jo ground to a halt, bent over, hands on knees wheezing like a fifty-a-day man. Droplets of sweat dripped from the lad’s fringe onto the pavement as he dragged air in through his mouth.

  Drawing level, Gus, remained alert, ready to dart after him, if he decided to take off again, but Jo Jo glanced up and scowled. ‘You can take me in. I’ve had enough.’

  Gus studied him. The lad oozed discomfort. His face contorted in anguish, his lower lip trembling just a fraction and Gus, seeing in his face someone who had given up, raised a hand to stay the officers who had just arrived. Bending over again, still gasping but not quite as laboured, Jo Jo spoke, ‘Anything’ll be better than having to sell my soul to Goyley and his boss.’ He lifted his chin in an infinitesimal gesture towards the thug who Gus had elbowed earlier. Gus realised quickly that Jo Jo was using his lowered head to impart this information without being seen. ‘Got you. One of Razor McCarthy’s thugs or Hammerhead’s?’

  Still bent over, Jo Jo said, ‘Razor’s.’

  Gus considered this for a moment. Jo Jo seemed more concerned about McCarthy than about being arrested and Gus wasn’t entirely sure what that implied. ‘Reckon we can do without the cuffs, eh?’ Gus linked his arm through the boy’s and led him back towards his house, the officers trailing behind.

  A bit of a crowd had gathered in the street. Nothing like a police presence to bring folk crawling outside. McCarthy’s thug stood at the back, keeping a watchful eye on proceedings. His phone was glued to his ear and as they got closer, Gus saw that his lips were moving. More than likely keeping his boss in the loop. Gus focussed on Jo Jo but directed his next words to the two officers. ‘Go over and hassle that thug, will you? See if he’s carrying anything. I don’t like the look of him, and he tried to obstruct me when I was chasing Jo Jo. That’s a good enough excuse to hold him for a bit.’

  Leaving the officers to it, Gus guided Jo Jo through his front door. After closing it behind them, they made their way through to the kitchen where Gus could hear Alice talking. As soon as they walked through the door, the little girl jumped to her feet, her face tear streaked, and ran to her brother. ‘Jo Jo, what’s going on. Why did you run off? I was scared.’

  Jo Jo lifted her up and hugged her close. ‘It’s fine, Jessie, everything’s fine. Just got to help these people for a while, that’s all. Someone will look after you.’

  Gus frowned. The lad’s ready acceptance that he would be taken away seemed to confirm his guilt. Watching the brother and sister together, Gus was reminded of his relationship with his own sister. The only difference being that Katie was the older sibling. Glancing round the kitchen, Gus could see that although it was basic with little in the way of homely touches, it was clean. Similar to Mo’s kitchen, the walls were covered with bold artwork, still brown damp stains escaped from beneath the paintings and peeling wallpaper. The fridge made a peculiar sound that told Gus it was on its way out and the back of one of the oddly matched kitchen chairs was held together with string and gaffer tape.

  Voice gentle, Alice smiled at the little girl. ‘Where’s your parents, Jessie?’

  Jo Jo ruffled his sister’s hair and made an admirable attempt at keeping his tone level. ‘It’s just me mam. She’s not right well. Please don’t tell her what I’ve been doing. It’ll kill her.’

  As if on cue, a faint voice drifted downstairs. ‘Jo Jo. What’s happening? What’s all the noise?’

  Immediately the lad glanced up at the ceiling, his eyes blinking rapidly as his gaze settled on Gus.

  Voice gentle, Gus asked, ‘Your mum?’

  Jo Jo repeated his earlier words. ‘She’s not well. She won’t be able to cope with this. What’s gonna happen to her… and Jessie?’

  Exchanging a quick look, Alice left the room and went upstairs. Jessie, thumb in her mouth gazed up at her brother, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Jo Jo smiled at her. ‘It’ll be all right, Jess, you’ll see.’

  But the tears began to roll down Jessie’s cheeks. This was so unfair. Gus had seen it before, and it didn’t take a genius to realise what the outcome of all of this would be. Social services would become involved and this little family would be obliterated. Sometimes, Gus wasn’t sure what the best course of action was, but looking at the siblings together, he was certain that the repercussions for both of these kids would be far reaching. When Alice returned, she switched the kettle on and with a forced smile said, ‘I think we could all do with some tea. Pop for you, Jessie?’

  The little girl looked up at her brother for permission before nodding and hiding her face in her brother’s shoulder once more. Alice made the pop and placed it on the table. With a smile at the boy, Alice took her phone out of her pocket. ‘Need to make a phone call. I’ll do it outside.’

  Jo Jo, eyes downcast, nodded. He’d no fight left in him and Gus could see the guilt in his eyes. Before following Alice into the hallway, he squeezed the lad’s shoulder. There was a backdoor in the kitchen, but Gus knew the lad wouldn’t try to use it.

  Once out of earshot, the door closed behind them, Alice ran her hand over her face and exhaled. Her eyes had darkened, and her entire body bristled. ‘This is fucking shit, Gus. Fucking shit. That kid’s been looking after his invalid mum and his sister for months now. The mum says the carer who’s supposed to come daily, blobs most of the time and they’re too scared to complain in case they take Jo Jo and Jessie away. Now, I’m going to have to phone social services and try to be civil. This shouldn’t be happening. Not in this day and age.’

  Closing his eyes, Gus swallowed. He’d seen the look in Jo Jo’s eyes. When he’d been a kid, his friend Greg had often carried the same haunted expression – despair and fear and hatred all rolled into one. It wasn’t until adulthood that Gus had realised how bad things had been for his friend. Society had let Greg down and now, thirty years later, it was still letting families like this down. Although Gus wanted nothing more than to rant and rave and possibly punch a wall, he took a deep breath instead. ‘We need to do our job, Alice. Jessie will be taken into foster care and the mum will be taken to hospital. You know that’s what has to happen. Neither of them is safe here. At least now they’ll be looked after.’

  ‘But they’ll be split up.’ She spat the words at him, her eyes blazing.

  ‘Yes, they will. But they’ll be safe. Now if you can’t hold it together, leave. Go for a walk, calm yourself. This family needs us to be professional.’ When her eyes still blazed, her body still tense, he added ‘Perhaps you came back too soon, Al. Perhaps you need more time.’

  For a moment he thought she might turn on her heel and walk out or punch him. Either was a distinct possibility, but she did neither. She straightened h
er back and gave a curt nod. ‘I’ll be back once I’ve made the call.’

  He watched her walk down the hallway, rigid and fragile all at once. She stopped when she reached the door and without looking back said, ‘You need to ask him for the key to the padlocked bedroom before they take him away.’

  CHAPTER 70

  C an’t bear this. Can’t bear to see Mum and Mo, their faces all worried and underneath all of that they’ll hate me. I know they will. How could they not? Anyway, I made Uncle Gus promise not to let them in. He wasn’t happy about it, but I insisted. Now I’ve got a stuck-up smiley social worker, who probably knows my mum and is more than likely laughing up her sleeve at this turn of events; Middle class kid goes wrong… middle class Pakistani kid goes wrong. Shit! Everything’s got scary all of a sudden. I don’t know what to do with myself, don’t know what to say… so I’ll just say nothing.

  I’ve really landed Jo Jo in it and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. Jo Jo’s had my back for so long. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s got responsibilities… he’s not like me. Jo Jo’s got his mum and Jessie to think of, so why the hell did I drag him into all of this shit? That’s where Gus has gone… to bring Jo Jo in. I’ve really messed up.

  I pull my knees up to my chest, my heels balancing on the edge of the soft chair and catch the frown from the social worker. Sod her! Ms Bloody Perfect. If I’m gonna end up in the nick, then I’ll sit how the hell I like. I glare at her, daring her to say something, but her frown goes and a slight smile tugs at her lips. Why the hell is she just sitting there, arms crossed and knees together. Bet that dress she’s wearing isn’t Armani… what’s it Jo Jo calls it…? ah, yeah Primani. Yes, the stuck-up cow’s probably all cheap clothes and attitude.

  The door bursts open and my mum, followed by Mo, are there in the room. Mum pulls me up and into her arms, her perfume embracing me like invisible armour. For a moment, I want to give in and let them stay, share my pain with them. But then I jerk out of her arms, pushing her away and look at the social worker who has jumped to her feet, glancing between the three of us and the officer who’s just rushed into the room.

  Stepping between the officer and my mum, she puts her arm round her. ‘Naila!’

  So, she does know my mum!

  ‘You can’t be here. You know that.’

  Mum looks at me, her tear-stained face scrunched up, her eyes pleading, and I want nothing more than to say, ‘Stay, Mum, please stay.’ But I can’t. I flick a quick glance at Mo. He’s so skinny looking, his chin is quivering, and I know he wants to hug me.

  I straighten up and although I’m bleeding inside, I pull a scowl on my face and make my voice cold as ice. ‘Get them out of here. I never want to see them again.’

  The social worker leads my mum from the room. Something inside my stomach squirms as Mum’s sobs cut through me, but it’s Mo who breaks my heart. As the officer guides him from the room, Mo turns back, not bothering to hide his tears. ‘No matter what you’ve done, Zarqa, I’ll always love you. You’re my daughter… now and forever. I love you.’

  As the door slams behind them, I keep breathing. How can I keep breathing when I’m dead inside?

  ‘I love you too, Dad,’ I mumble, but it’s too little, too late. I turn and sit down again, keeping my feet on the floor this time.

  CHAPTER 71

  G us found the key on the top ledge of the door where Jo Jo had told them it would be.

  He’d walked up the worn stair carpet after Sid and his team with Alice trailing behind. They were already suited and booted. The house, although not spotless, wasn’t filthy, like some of the houses they’d had the pleasure of searching. The wallpaper was shabby and marked. There was a faint damp smell, mostly overlaid by lemon disinfectant. Jo Jo had tried his best to keep on top of things.

  A quick glance into a single room saw a made bed, with a pink, princess duvet on top and a bundle of soft toys spilling all over the pillow. Jessie had chosen two toys to take with her and, crying her eyes out, she allowed the social worker to lead her by the hand to the waiting car. Alice had turned abruptly and returned to the house, her anguish at the desperate situation resonating with Gus. When Jo Jo had been escorted to the police car, Jessie had clung to him like a limpet, until he said, ‘You gotta be a big girl, Jess. You gotta keep an eye on mam. I’ll come see you soon as I can.’

  Her lower lip had wobbled, but she’d done as her brother asked, which only made the separation of mother and child worse. Jo Jo’s mum, almost too weak to speak, tried her best to reassure her daughter, but Gus could see that she was resigned to losing both her children. When the paramedics arrived, they’d lifted her emaciated frame onto the gurney with little effort. Standing aside to let them wheel her down the path, a drip attached, feeding her fluids, Gus cringed at the sight of her skeletal frame.

  ‘She going to be okay?’ Even as the words left his lips, he realised how stupid they were. Even with the right care, it was clear that the children’s mum was in for a long and possibly painful recuperation, if she made it all. He hoped that worry over Jo Jo wouldn’t impact negatively on her recovery, but deep down he knew it would. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that this little family loved each other very much.

  Sid unlocked the padlock, bagged both the lock and the key, and pushed the door open while Gus stood aside to allow a lanky CSI, who was carrying the evidence storage box, to enter.

  Jo Jo’s room was unlike any other teenage boy’s room Gus had ever seen. It was divided into two distinct areas. The wall behind his bed was painted black and his bedding was a deep purple. To the right of the bed was a long pasting table that the lad was clearly using as a worktable. And behind it was a shelving unit containing eight drones of different sizes and shapes. Laid out along the bench were Jo Jo’s tools; electrical screwdrivers, pliers, spanners, and the like. Battery casings and a selection of different parts and controllers took up the rest of the space, with an extendable spotlight positioned at one end.

  If Gus had needed evidence that Jo Jo was in some way involved in the murders, it was here, laid out on a platter for him. So, why did the knowledge deflate him? They were on the cusp of closing this case and yet his overriding feeling was one of regret. How the hell did the lad afford all this stuff?

  On a dresser at the foot of the bed was a large screen, hooked up to a smaller laptop, with a webcam attached to the top. Gus’ gaze drifted to the two spotlights directed towards the bed. It was then he noticed the handcuffs attached to the bedpost and as his gaze moved round the room, he saw another surface with an array of sex toys ranging from butt plugs to dildos and cock-rings of every imaginable design, and some Gus hadn’t ever imagined. Large bottles of oil and lubricant stood among tissue boxes, wet wipes, and antibacterial wipes… Gus’ stomach lurched… there was his answer. The lad was webcamming to make ends meet and to fund his DIY drone hobby.

  Gus was overcome with a sense of futility. No matter how often he witnessed how other people lived, no matter how hard he tried to make things better, he would never get to the bottom of the cesspool. Heavy-limbed and equally heavy-hearted, Gus turned to leave the room. Jo Jo might well be a cold-blooded killer, but still, Gus couldn’t help but feel sorry for the lad and desperately frustrated with the situation he found himself in. ‘Get that PC and all the drone stuff to Compo as soon as you can. I’ll take his phone with me.’

  CHAPTER 72

  T his was the longest Thursday Gus had ever endured. Every passing minute added a further twist to the toxic coil in his gut. Speaking to Mo and Naila earlier had been torture. For the first time, he’d noticed streaks of grey running through his friend’s hair, but what worried him most was Mo’s glazed expression and the way he stood back, his body so tense that Gus thought it would snap and Mo would end up a rubble of bones at his feet. The last time Gus had seen an expression like that had been when Alice had been arrested and look how that ended up. He wanted to hug his mate and tell him everything was going to
be all right and that he’d get Zarqa out of there no matter what, but he couldn’t.

  Naila had grudgingly given them permission to search Zarqa’s room. Her eyes, like a laser, had pierced Gus’ heart. Her tone was accusing. ‘My daughter has done nothing wrong, Gus. You of all people should know that. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.’

  Mo had tried to reason with her, saying, ‘Gus is on our side, Naila. He’s our friend. He’s Zarqa’s godfather.’

  But Naila had turned on Mo, her teeth bared. ‘If he was on our side, he wouldn’t be accusing his goddaughter of being a murderer, would he?’ She turned to Gus, eyes flashing, ‘My daughter is not a murderer, so just you get the fuck out of my sight. You’re a disgrace… an absolute disgrace.’

  Her words stung, and Gus was ashamed… ashamed and angry and confused. He’d followed the evidence. Zarqa had admitted culpability, saying it had all been her idea… he didn’t know what else he could’ve done, yet the guilt was threatening to strangle him. They’d found nothing of consequence in Zarqa’s room, bar some weed and a few spray cans, but then Zarqa was an artist in the making, so that wasn’t unusual. Sid had suggested she may have access to somewhere else that may hold incriminating evidence and Sebastian Carlton had backed that idea up, suggesting that if Jo Jo and Zarqa were working together, they may keep incriminating stuff like burner phones elsewhere.

  Now, watching the interview from a screen in another room, Gus’ heart hammered, his mouth was rancid, and his head throbbed. The smell of Sebastian Carlton’s aftershave was forcing him to take shallow breaths through his mouth and he could feel his chest tighten. He hoped he’d be able to hold it together… at least for a while longer.