The Retribution

by Shankar Kashyap

  She worked as a cleaner at a local factory on a contract basis and got paid only for the hours she worked.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sure you can catch up over the weekend. I don’t want to lose my job.”

  It was finally agreed that Vanessa would stay back to keep an eye on Lenny, who was snoring away on the settee.

  “It does not look like he is going to wake up for a few hours anyway. I might as well get some housework done in the meantime. If Sharon turns up early, I’ll see if I can persuade her to keep an eye on him.”

  It was not to be. Sharon did not turn up till after lunchtime and she was still in a foul mood. If anything, even worse mood than that in the morning. She was carrying the baby in her arms with a large bag full of nappies and baby stuff. She dumped the big bag on the floor as soon as she entered the house.

  “I’m sick of this shit. I had to lug this baby and her stuff in two buses to get here.”

  Vanessa wanted to ask why she had brought the baby, but decided against it on second thoughts.

  “Thanks for coming Sharon. Can I get you anything?”

  “Cup of tea would be great. Where is that bugger?”

  “He is sleeping on the settee in the sitting room. Has not woken up since he came in at around 4 this morning.”

  “At Four? That is middle of the bloody night for God’s sake. What the hell he’s been up to? I bet it can’t be anything legit. One of these days cops will catch up with him and that’ll be the end of it.”

  Vanessa did not say anything as she got busy making a cup of tea in the kitchen.

  “Are you gonna tell me what’s he done?”

  “He thinks he has killed someone.”

  Vanessa’s voice was calm and soft as continued to stir the tea. Sharon put her hands to her mouth and collapsed on to the dining chair. It was lucky that the baby’s basket was on the dining table. It could have ended up on the floor. She found difficulty getting words out of her mouth.

  “What …..? when ….? Are you sure?”

  Vanessa sighed before replying.

  “We don’t know for sure. He keeps saying that he has killed someone and he keeps calling out for someone called ‘Bro’. Difficult to get any sense out of him and he still has not woken up to ask questions.”

  “Have the police been looking for him?” Sharon was shouting. “I knew one day he would get into serious trouble.”

  “We don’t know for sure what has happened, Sharon. He was still under when he came in and could not get any sense out of him.”

  “I’ll tell you it is that bitch got him into this trouble. I told him she was trouble. The bugger wouldn’t listen.” Sharon did not seem to take any notice of what Vanessa was saying. “Did you say Bro?”

  “Do you know anyone called Bro?”

  “Yeah. I even met him once. Nice bloke. Indian or Pakistani I think.” Sharon replied. “He was helping Lenny get a job or something. I am not sure.”

  “Anyway, he now needs help. We have calmed him down now and he is sleeping it off.” Vanessa said. “I got to get to work soon and so does David. You have to keep an eye on him for now.”

  Sean

  Sean did not go straight back to the office from the Harrison road house. Instead, he had knocked on the neighbour’s back door. A middle-aged lady opened it. She looked at Sean and gave him a puzzled smile. She was a slim lady, looking rather jaded and tired. He could see she would have been a stunner a few years back. The years had not been kind on her.

  “Yes? Can I help you?”

  Sean took out the badge from his wallet and showed it to her.

  “I am sorry to bother you. I am Sean O’Connor from Leicester Constabulary. I am investigating what happened next door.”

  “I was not here last night officer. I already told the police man who came to ask me questions before. My husband is not at home, officer. He has gone to work.” She said.

  “I am sorry to intrude again. But I came to see you Mrs Maddison.” Sean said. “Do you know where the milk man who did the rounds this morning lives?”

  “I don’t know where he lives. He has his farm somewhere outside Leicester.” She replied. “But, I have his phone number if you want.”

  “Yes please. That would be very useful.

  Mrs Maddison went inside and came back with a scrap of paper with a telephone number on it.

  “Thank you so much Mrs Maddison. I really appreciate it.”

  “You are welcome. Hope you find whoever did it.” She said and started to close the door as Sean turned to walk back out of the back gate. He stopped at the gate and turned around to see Mrs Maddison through the frosted glass of the back door staring at him. It unnerved him a little, but he kept going. Something made him turn back and look at the door after a few steps. She was still there staring at him. He decided go back. She opened the door as he stepped through the back gate.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you officer?” Sean saw the smile did not go to her tired eyes.

  “I am sorry to bother you again.” Sean was feeling uncomfortable under her stare. He adjusted the collar of his jacket as he continued. “Can I ask you some questions?”

  “I am sorry officer. What did you say your name was?”

  “It’s Sean. Sean O’Connor, Detective Inspector of the Homicide squad.”

  “I am Mandy, Mr O’Connor. As I was saying, I have just come home after a busy night shift at the hospital. I have only been back a couple of hours ago and was about to go to bed. Whatever happened next door, it happened when I was at work. I don’t know how I can help.”

  That made Sean cringe.

  “I am really sorry. Maybe I should come back another day.”

  He started to leave when she stopped him again.

  “That is OK, Mr O’Connor. Another few minutes is not going to hurt. I have the rest of the day to sleep as Jim won’t be back till tonight. Come in and have a seat.”

  Sean smiled with a relief as he sat down on the settee in front of her.

  “Thank you. That is very kind of you. I know you probably were not here when the incident took place. What do you do?”

  “I am night sister at the accident department at the Royal Infirmary.”

  “Did you know the people who owned the property next door?”

  “Yes, I do. It is owned by that nice priest from the Hindu temple on Wrexton Street. He is here most days with the workers. They have been working on it for a few months now. Very nice man, and very pleasant. He is always very courteous and helpful. I saw his wife too once. Stunning girl. Make a very nice couple.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “I think he was called Dev. I can’t remember the wife’s name.” Mandy replied. “I hear someone has been killed next door. I hope it is not that nice man.”

  “We are not sure yet Mrs Maddison. We are still making enquiries.” Sean said. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the man?”

  “Not really. He was always well dressed and seemed to be well off. He drove a flashy car.”

  “Can you remember seeing anyone else with him?”

  “No one apart from the workers. They seemed to have their own keys and came and went most days.” Mandy replied.

  “Thank you Mrs Maddison. You have been very helpful. If you remember anything else, please call me.” He took out a card from his wallet and gave it to her.

  “I’ll certainly do that officer.”

  Sean stood up to leave and as he was crossing the door, she stopped him with and said,

  “You probably know that he was beaten up badly couple of years ago.”

  Sean stopped in his tracks and turned around closing the door again.

  “No. I did not know that. How do you know that?”

  “Sorry. I probably should not have told you.” She suddenly appeared nervous.

  “I am glad you did. Any information however trivial you think it maybe is important to us.” Sean said. “Please tell me what you know.”

&
nbsp; “He was brought into the accident department where I work a couple of years ago. I can’t remember any details now. I think he was beaten up outside a club or something.” Mandy replied hesitantly. “I was working that night at the hospital. Please don’t repeat this to anyone. I will get into trouble. I should not be telling you this as it is confidential information.”

  “Don’t worry Mrs Maddison. I will not put this in my report and it will remain confidential. I can ask the hospital for the information officially.”

  “Thank you. I really should not have told you this. Now you better leave Mr O’Connor.”

  “Thanks again Mrs Maddison. I really appreciate you taking time to talk to me after a busy night shift. And please don’t worry, your information will not go past me. Can you remember approximately when the attack took place?”

  “I think it was in summer two or three years ago. But I can’t be sure.” Mandy said opening the door again for him. “Now you must excuse me. I am sure you can get all the information you need from the hospital.”

  Sean walked back to the car deep in thought. Once inside the car he took the piece of paper Mandy had given him with a phone number on it. There was a name on it too – Joe Bamborough. He took out his mobile phone from his jacket pocket to find that the battery was on the way out and the signal was not too. He was not sure if there was enough battery to last a call. He called the number anyway. The phone rang for a long time and just when he thought he was going to get an answer machine a sleepy voice answered.

  “Who is it?”

  “I am very sorry to bother you Mr Bamborough. My name is Sean O’Connor from Leicester Constabulary.” Sean replied trying to sound as apologetic as possible as he just realised that he must have woken up the milkman who had probably gone to bed just then. “I would like to ask you a couple of quick questions if you don’t mind.”

  “I do bloody mind.” The irate voice on the other end. “I have just got to bed after a tiring milk round. Call me in a few hours’ time.”

  “My Apologies Mr Bamborough to disturb your well-deserved sleep. We are investigating an incident on Harrison Road either late last night or in the early hours of this morning. I just wanted to know if you saw anything unusual this morning on your rounds.”

  There was silence at the other end for a minute. Sean looked at the phone to see if he had been cut off.

  “I don’t think I saw anything out of the ordinary this morning. Just the usual morning jogger and the dog walker I see every morning.”

  “Thank you sir. If you remember anything at all even if you think it is unimportant, please give me a call on this number.”

  “OK.” And the phone went dead.

  Sean was a little disappointed. He was hoping to get more out of the milkman. He decided to knock on a couple of more doors in the vicinity and ask some more questions. He spent next couple of hours knocking on several door on either side of the house with nothing. He had noticed a newsagent shop at the corner of Harrison Road and Moira Street. The doorbell tingled as he pushed the door open and walked in and an elderly man with a long grey beard looked up. There was no one else in the shop.

  “Good morning. It is a bit quiet this time of the morning” Sean said, more of a statement than a question. The elderly Asian shopkeeper smiled showing his dirty yellow teeth.

  “It is always quiet at this time of the morning around here. We were busy this morning though. Someone has been killed down on Harrison Road and the place has been heaving since morning with ghoulish interest in such things.” He laughed. “But it is good for business. I am not complaining.”

  Sean smiled in reply.

  “I am Sean O’Connor, one of the policemen investigating the death. Can I ask you a few questions?”

  “You certainly can officer. I know most of the people in this area as I have had this shop now, let me see … for over twenty years.”

  “Thank you. Do you know the people that live in number 77, Harrison Road?”

  “Now let me see.” He stroked his beard as he spoke, as if in deep contemplation. “77? Did you say? Is that the place where they found the dead body this morning?”

  “Yes. It is.” Sean replied.

  “I don’t think anyone lived there. It was up for sale for a long time as it needed a lot of work. If I remember right the priest from the temple on Wrexton Street bought it.” He said stroking his grey beard. “Now, what was his name? A very nice young man. Not married for long. Popped into the shop a couple of times with his beautiful wife.”

  “Would it be Dev Sharma by any chance?” Sean prompted. The shopkeeper’s name lit up.

  “Yes. Yes, that is him. Don’t tell me he has been killed?”

  “What time did you come into the shop this morning Mr…?” Sean asked.

  “Abdul. I am Abdul Parikh.” He replied. “Now let me see, it must have been just after 5 this morning, just as the newspaper guys dropped off the load.”

  “Where do you live Mr Parikh?”

  “I live in Mowmacre Hill and I walked down. It only takes me less than half an hour to walk down, you know. It is good for me, as I don’t get any other exercise nowadays. Getting old is not good for you.”

  “So you must have set off from home around 4.30 this morning? Did you see anything unusual?”

  “You are right. Let me think.” He was stroking his beard again. “Hmmmm. I don’t think so. The usual milkman and an odd drunk going home, or should I say swaggering home?” He laughed.

  “Are you sure you did not see anything else?”

  “I am not sure what you are getting at officer. But I don’t think I saw anything else unusual.”

  Sean pulled out his card and gave it to the shopkeeper.

  “If you remember anything. Anything at all, please give me a call on that number.”

  Just as Sean was opening the door, he was stopped by,

  “There was this guy who nearly knocked me over this morning.”

  Sean turned around and came back inside.

  “Yes?”

  “He was not really drunk. He looked confused and dazed and he was talking to himself. But I don’t think it is important.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it was in Mowmacre Hill, not on Harrison road. It happened just as I set off from home.”

  “Yes. You are probably right. But I still would appreciate it if you can tell me anything more about this man.”

  “Not much to tell really. I did not take any notice of him. These drunks are best left alone. If he had not nearly bumped into me, I would not have seen him at all.” He said stroking his beard furiously now. “It was quite dark you know at that time of the morning and you can’t be too careful.”

  “I understand Mr Parikh. Is there anything you can tell me?” Sean insisted. “Was he young or old? Was he Asian or white? Anything?”

  Mr Parikh paused for a minute in deep thought.

  “Well, I think he was a white lad, tall and skinny. But I can’t be too sure.”

  Sean gave up after a few more questions and left the shop with the shop keeper staring at his little card.

  Media

  Flash bulbs went off in his face as Philip walked out with Mick tagging behind along with two other cops. Philip looked up to see the crowd standing behind the police cordon. There was a sizeable local population who had already gathered to watch. The police were in force trying to keep them behind the lines. Sheila Blacklock, the public relation girl had turned up by then and came over to speak to him.

  “How do you want to play this chief?”

  “We don’t really know much at this stage to tell the press.”

  “You have to talk to them. They won’t let you go without speaking to them.” Sheila replied. “Why don’t you give out a statement without any questions?”

  Philip agreed.

  “There are the usual suspects from the Leicester Herald, Mercury, the Mail, Evening Chronicle and the some independent reporters. No TV yet.” She
ila said. “I will get them across here.”

  She wandered off to get them from behind the police line as Philip turned to Mick and said,

  “I don’t think we should say anything about the drug find.”

  “Sure, if that is what you want.” Mick replied. “Why?”

  “I got to think how to play this card. I don’t want it to backfire later. Not until we find out more about the dead guy yet.”

  “If that is what you want.” Mick was obviously not very happy. He was losing his chance to get his name in the papers. Sheila came back with a few reporters and a couple of cameramen.

  “Superintendent Stoker is going to make a statement. No questions please at this time.”

  There was a string of protests at this statement. The photographers clicked away with the cameras. Philip put his right hand up and started.

  “Thank you for your patience. All I can say at this stage is that we have found a body of adult Asian male in the house behind us. The family have been informed. We are awaiting forensic tests before confirming the cause of death. The incident appears to have occurred in the early hours of this morning. I would appeal to anyone who had noticed anything unusual around this area during last night and early this morning to come forward with any information they have. I can assure you that any information given to us will be treated with utmost confidence. You can do that either over the telephone or come into the headquarters personally to talk to one of our officers. There are trained officers manning the telephone line ready to take your calls. Unfortunately I cannot take any questions at the moment as I don’t have any answers yet.”

  Philip paused for a moment before continuing. His voice was grave when he said, “It is important that the public works with us in this case. When I talk to the press, I am talking to the killer.”

  He turned to go back inside the house when the reporters started to shout,

  “How was he murdered?”

  “Is it true he was a priest?”

  “Is it a drug killing?”

  Philip did not say a word until he was inside. Sheila could see his face getting redder as more questions were thrown at his receding back. As soon as he was inside, he turned on Mick.