Dishonour

by Helen Black

  ‘You have absolutely no idea about that,’ said DI Bell. ‘And in a community like this, no one is going to talk to you.’

  Jack didn’t take his eyes off the chief. ‘I have some names.’

  Bell snorted. ‘What names?’

  Jack pulled out the piece of paper that Malik had scribbled on.

  ‘He gave me the names of some mates who can supposedly give him an alibi.’

  Bell snatched the paper. ‘And?’

  ‘And if these men are prepared to lie for Malik, maybe they’re involved in all this.’

  The chief continued tapping, the noise chipping away at Jack’s brain. If he could just have a little more time he could find Aasha and Ryan’s attackers, he was sure of it.

  At last the chief nodded. ‘I’ll get the extension.’

  Jack couldn’t contain a smile.

  ‘Twelve hours,’ said the chief.

  Jack’s smile slipped.

  The chief pointed to his watch. ‘The clock is ticking.’

  Aasha sits cross-legged on the floor, her back against the cold stone of the wall. From time to time the man unlocks the door to let her use the bathroom or to pass in some food.

  Other than that she is alone in this room with its tiled floor and bare walls. There are no windows and a single bulb hangs from the ceiling. Sometimes she falls asleep but she has no way of knowing what time of day it is.

  She pulls her knees up into her chest and waits.

  She thinks about Ryan. He was just trying to help her by letting her stay with him. He couldn’t have known just how much trouble Aasha was bringing to his door.

  Aasha’s mum has always been quick to pass on the disaster stories of her friends’ children.

  ‘Auntie Shahida called today.’ She would shake her head and sigh, before launching into a tortured story of ungrateful children failing their A levels or marrying beneath them.

  Aasha had never done the smallest thing to bring shame to her family. She laughs out loud at the irony.

  She prays that Ryan is all right. She makes a pact that if he is OK she will never do anything wrong for as long as she lives. She will get the best results in her class, study medicine at university and Mum will have something to brag about to all the neighbours.

  The key rattles in the door and Aasha is on her feet before the door is opened. Though she is desperate to get out of this prison cell she feels the familiar stab of fear.

  ‘Come on,’ the man grunts, ‘bathroom break.’

  Aasha nods and follows him down the hall. Sunlight streams through the windows, dust dancing on the beams. It feels good after the sickly half-world of the electric bulb.

  He lets her into the bathroom and stands outside. He allows her to shut the door but she knows he guards it from the other side. She gets about five minutes then he gives a knock of warning and opens it once more.

  She quickly fills the bowl and splashes water over her face. As she wipes it with the cardboard stiffness of the towel she looks through the window. Outside there is a field, and another field beyond that. Aasha is a townie and has never been this far into the countryside. It seems to go on for ever, though that can’t be true.

  She listens carefully. At first she thought it was totally silent but she’s started to pick up other sounds. The odd car in the far distance which means she must be within walking distance of a road. Not that she could get to it because the window is locked.

  Sometimes she catches something else, like a baby crying or something.

  There it goes again. Aasha stands perfectly still and concentrates. Not a baby, but an animal bleating.

  She once read an old book called The Silence of the Lambs where some FBI agent mentions hearing her uncle killing the baby lambs on his farm. Well, they wouldn’t have been silent, would they? They would have been bleating like the animals outside.

  She tries not to think about sharp knives, and blood and screaming.

  Her thoughts are interrupted by the man’s phone. In the quiet of the house it makes her jump. She listens at the door. The man is speaking in Urdu.

  ‘What’s going on?’ He sounds cross but scared as well. ‘Has he said anything, do you think?’

  There is a pause while the person on the other end speaks, and by the sound of footsteps, the man is pacing up and down the hallway.

  ‘I’m telling you now,’ the man shouts, ‘I’m not going to gaol.’

  Aasha presses her ear to the door. The man is panting as if he’s totally stressed by what he’s being told.

  ‘So what shall I do with the girl?’ he growls.

  What the answer is, Aasha has no way of knowing, but she is not as stupid as Imran says. She knows that some of the options are very bad. She’s heard the stories about girls that were sent ‘back home’, forced to marry cousins they had never met. Girls that were in school one minute, then never seen again.

  She moves back just as the door flings open, without the usual knock. The man scowls at her. He is so angry she fears he might beat her, and she flinches.

  ‘Out,’ he barks at her.

  She scurries down the corridor, back to her cell. She’s almost glad when he shuts her back inside.

  Lilly hurried towards the station. Jack hadn’t been able to tell her over the phone what had happened during Malik’s interview and she was frantic trying to guess the permutations of what could have happened.

  The best-case scenario was that he had made a full confession and implicated himself in Yasmeen’s murder. But as Lilly had explained to Taslima, that wasn’t very likely.

  When she saw him leaving the car park she beeped her horn for him to cross the road and jump in.

  ‘How did it go?’ she asked, though his face told her everything she needed to know.

  ‘He didn’t say a word.’

  Shit. To be fair, if Lilly had been his lawyer she would probably have advised the same thing.

  ‘Did you have enough to charge him?’ she asked.

  Jack shook his head. ‘Without forensics or a witness I can’t place him at the scene.’

  Lilly felt her heart plummet. She knew how badly Jack would take it. He had been desperate to put things right.

  ‘When did you release him?’ she asked.

  ‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘I got an extension on the custody limits.’

  Lilly let out a low whistle. ‘That must have taken some fancy footwork.’

  ‘Let’s just say I have twelve hours and not a second longer.’

  Lilly instinctively checked her watch. It was impossible. They both knew it. They looked at one another.

  ‘I’m not ready to give up yet,’ said Jack. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Not fucking likely.’

  ‘Then we need to move fast,’ said Jack, ‘collect as much evidence as we can.’

  ‘Where do we start?’

  ‘I have a list of Malik’s close friends. Uniform are checking them now.’

  ‘What about us?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘I’m going back to Aasha’s family to see if there’s any link between them and Malik,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’ll do the Khans,’ said Lilly.

  Jack threw open the car door. ‘If anyone has so much as spoken to this bastard on the bus I want to know.’

  She had been about to tell him about the scan, show him the grainy photograph of their unborn baby, but somehow it seemed all wrong.

  ‘OK?’ he asked.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ she said.

  Ismail sat on his hands. He’d bitten his nails right down to the quick but he still felt an urge to bring them to his lips.

  His brother had taken up his usual position, lolling on the sofa. How could he be so relaxed? Did it not worry him that they might spend the rest of their lives in prison? Probably not. He could spend his days lifting weights and watching TV—identical to what he did now. But Ismail had plans. College, a good job, maybe run his own little business. He wanted to get his end away with a ton of English girls before his par
ents introduced him to some nice girl from Kashmir. Or lose his cherry, at the very least.

  And what about Aasha? Didn’t Imran care that their sister was locked up somewhere and they had no way of finding out where?

  A quick glance at his brother told Ismail the answer. Imran didn’t give a shit about Aasha, never had done. Ismail wasn’t convinced he gave a shit about anyone or anything apart from himself.

  Mum perched on the very edge of her seat, listening to every word the policeman said.

  ‘Abdul Malik is a very dangerous man,’ McNally told them. ‘The young lad he attacked is in a serious condition.’

  Tears welled in Mum’s eyes and Ismail had to turn away. This whole mess was killing her. He imagined how she’d feel if the police found out he and Imran were involved. It didn’t bear thinking about. And what if they were arrested and taken to court? The shame would probably finish her off, which was stupid when you considered that this all started because Imran said Aasha had shamed the family.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mum murmured. ‘I don’t know him.’ She looked over at her sons, desperation glinting in her tears.

  ‘Nah,’ said Imran. ‘Never heard of him.’

  Ismail didn’t trust himself to speak and just shook his head.

  The policeman frowned at them. He was one of those white men you just couldn’t read. He seemed so polite and ineffectual, yet Ismail could sense something behind that.

  ‘That’s strange,’ he said. ‘Malik admitted that he did know you.’

  Ismail risked a glance at Imran. What had Malik been saying about them? Imran met his eyes and the warning was very clear.

  ‘He must be mistaken.’ Imran shrugged at Jack.

  The policeman smoothed down his tie, a horrendous, polyester thing that he must have got cheap.

  ‘He was quite clear that he knew you.’

  Ismail’s stomach flipped and bile stung his throat. He leaped to his feet and ran to the kitchen, retching into the sink.

  Mum was behind him in seconds, rubbing his back. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, a string of mucus stretching between them.

  ‘Everything all right?’ The policeman was standing in the doorway, Imran by his side.

  ‘We’ve all been very upset,’ said Mum.

  ‘Of course,’ the policeman said, but he stared hard at Ismail.

  Imran shot towards Mum and took her arm from Ismail’s back.

  ‘Why don’t you show Sergeant McNally out and I’ll take care of Ismail?’

  She smiled at him gratefully and led the policeman away. When they were safely out of earshot he took a handful of Ismail’s hair in his fist and hauled back his head. He yanked hard, making Ismail cry out.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

  Imran twisted the hair, his knuckles digging into Ismail’s scalp. Ismail could feel the roots ripping away from the skin. ‘What do you mean?’

  Imran pushed Ismail’s head down into the sink so his nose was almost touching the vomit.

  ‘This crap,’ he hissed. ‘Like some sort of batty boy pussy.’ He let go of Ismail and snorted in disgust. ‘You may as well crawl down to the station and tell them everything.’

  Ismail took a swipe at his tears. His scalp was screaming.

  ‘That policeman said Malik told them about us.’

  ‘He’s lying,’ said Imran.

  ‘How can you be sure?’ Ismail sobbed.

  ‘Because Malik’s a true Muslim brother.’

  ‘But what about Aasha? What’s going to happen to her?’ asked Ismail.

  ‘Malik will sort it out.’

  ‘From prison?’ Ismail shook his head. ‘Maybe we should talk to that policeman. Explain that we never meant for any of this to happen.’

  Imran grabbed his chin. ‘Listen to me. If you go to the police Malik will kill you.’

  ‘But what about Aasha?’

  ‘That bitch is the reason we’re in this mess.’ Imran squeezed until Ismail’s chin stung as much as his scalp. ‘And if I hear you mention one word of this to anyone, I’ll kill you myself.’

  Anwar showed Lilly and Taslima through to the sitting room. He was anxious and agitated.

  ‘Is Raffy OK?’

  ‘Let’s sit down,’ Lilly suggested.

  Saira and her mother had already taken chairs at the edge of the room. Saira held her mother’s hand. Anwar gestured to Lilly and Taslima to sit, then took his place opposite. He was fidgeting and biting his lip.

  ‘What’s happened?’ he asked. ‘The prison called an hour ago and said there’s been an incident. We’ve been trying to contact you.’

  Lilly took a deep breath. She was here to discuss Malik but obviously the situation at Arlington was all the Khans could think about.

  ‘I saw him yesterday,’ she said. ‘He’s been moved to the hospital wing.’

  ‘Why didn’t they inform us sooner?’ asked Saira.

  ‘Prison communication is glacial,’ said Lilly. ‘A day’s delay is not bad.’

  She glanced at Mrs Khan, still silent and unmoving. Saira squeezed her mother’s hand so hard her knuckles were white.

  ‘The governor said there had been a fight.’ Anwar shook his head. ‘What has my brother done now?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing,’ said Lilly. ‘He was attacked by another inmate.’

  Anwar stood up and began to pace. ‘You saw him at court, Miss Valentine, totally out of control.’

  ‘He was provoked by the guard,’ Taslima pointed out.

  Anwar flapped his arms. ‘There’s always some reason why he loses his temper. His behaviour is never his fault.’

  Saira gently replaced her mother’s hand in her lap and approached her brother. She led him back to his place and sat close to him, patting his leg.

  ‘Calm, Anwar,’ she whispered.

  Lilly was taken again by how maternal this seemed, as if Saira had taken on the role of mother.

  ‘I don’t believe this was Raffy’s fault,’ said Lilly. ‘It was a racially motivated attack.’

  Anwar’s eyes opened wide. ‘He was attacked because he’s a Muslim?’

  ‘A Muslim, a Sikh, a Jew,’ said Lilly, ‘black, brown or yellow, these people don’t care.’

  ‘How can such things take place in prison?’ asked Anwar.

  ‘Come on,’ Saira spoke in a hushed tone, ‘these things happen every day out here so why not in prison?’

  Anwar nodded, the truth of it weighing visibly and heavily.

  ‘So what now?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s recovering well,’ said Lilly, ‘and the other boy will be charged with assault.’

  Anwar blew through his nose.

  ‘OK then.’ Lilly paused. She had to ask about Malik but she needed the Khans to focus. Under normal circumstances she would have let them calm down for a day or so, but she didn’t have time. She sneaked a look at her watch and gulped. Minutes and hours were ticking away. Soon Malik would be released and any chance of linking him to Yasmeen’s murder would be lost. She nodded slightly to Taslima to steer the conversation away from Raffy.

  ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else as well,’ said Taslima.

  Anwar and Saira looked up at her expectantly.

  ‘We’ve been trying to think of anyone who might want to hurt Yasmeen,’ she continued, ‘and someone’s name has come up.’

  ‘Who?’ Anwar and Saira spoke as one.

  ‘Abdul Malik.’

  No one said a word.

  ‘The police think this man is involved in another honour attack,’ said Taslima.

  Anwar covered his mouth. ‘Another girl has been murdered?’

  ‘Kidnapped,’ said Lilly. ‘They’re desperately trying to find her.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Anwar muttered.

  ‘That’s why I want you all to think very, very carefully,’ said Lilly. ‘Whatever you can tell me about this man might not only help Raffy’s defence but also save another girl.’
/>   ‘Abdul Malik,’ Anwar rolled the words around his tongue. ‘Sorry, I’ve never heard the name.’

  Lilly’s heart sank. ‘He delivers meat to the Paradise Halal Butchers.’

  Anwar turned to his mother. ‘Do you know him, Ma?’

  Mrs Khan didn’t respond.

  ‘We don’t use it,’ said Saira.

  ‘But he’s your uncle,’ said Lilly.

  Saira gave a tight smile. ‘Uncle Mohamed is a very good man in lots of ways, but his meat is tough.’

  Lilly almost laughed out loud. ‘Blood is thicker than water,’ her mother used to say, ‘but it isn’t cement.’

  ‘Malik’s very distinctive,’ said Lilly. ‘He must weigh seventeen stone, about six two.’

  ‘He has a beard.’ Taslima stroked her chin.

  Lilly willed them to recognise the description. ‘In the last few days his nose has been broken. He has black eyes.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Anwar, ‘no.’

  Lilly and Taslima said their goodbyes and left the Khans. They were no further forward in placing Malik at the scene.

  Jack punched the kitchen wall. ‘Damn it.’

  Lilly and Taslima jumped.

  ‘Sorry,’ Jack shook the pain from his fist. ‘I just can’t believe no one has even heard of this guy.’

  ‘Do we believe them?’ asked Taslima.

  ‘Good question.’ Jack sucked his knuckles. ‘The Hassan boys are hiding something. The younger one started puking when it got too close to home.’

  ‘The Khans seem to be telling the truth,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Though I thought Anwar was a bit quick to respond,’ said Taslima.

  Lilly nodded. He had been quick to deny any knowledge of Malik and quicker still to blame Raffy for starting the fight in prison. Then there was Mrs Khan, utterly unengaged in her son’s fate.

  ‘I think there’s something they’re not telling us,’ she conceded.

  ‘If I had my way I’d nick the lot of them and shove them in a cell until they were ready to talk,’ said Jack.

  ‘Don’t let something as small as the Human Rights Act stop you,’ Lilly laughed.

  Jack slapped his forehead with his hand. ‘Someone must know this man.’

  ‘The only person who’s been willing to mention him is the uncle,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Then let’s go back there,’ said Jack. ‘See if there’s anything else.’