Best Friend, Worst Enemy

by Menon, David

  ‘That looks pretty conclusive to me, ma’am’ said Tim. ‘That guy fired the shot that killed Faisal Hussein’.

  ‘Looks like it’ said Sara. ‘But what I’m really excited about is what the next piece of film shows us’.

  ‘Well don’t keep us in suspense, ma’am’ said Tim, sitting forward in his chair.

  Sara made a few more clicks and then the footage of Robert Jackson being led through the reception of the Landmark hotel beneath the block of apartments where he’d lived, was playing on her computer screen. She watched as eyes widened all around her.

  ‘Yes’ said Sara. ‘It’s the same two men who shot Faisal Hussein. Now who are they and just who are they working for?’

  THIRTEEN

  Craig cradled Dean in his arms after they’d got into bed. Earlier that evening they’d been to the committee meeting of the local Labour party where Craig had announced what would be happening to his seat at the next election. On the way back in the car Craig had hinted that he may have tired of the political life.

  ‘Craig, would you really think about giving up politics like you said at the meeting tonight?’

  ‘I don’t know’ said Craig. ‘It’s tempting to take this as an opportunity to throw the cards in the air and see where they fall. Don’t you think? I mean, what with this and bloody death threats from anonymous maniacs. We could sell up and buy a restaurant in France or Spain or something’.

  ‘That sounds very tempting’.

  ‘No more being apart all week’.

  ‘You’re doing a great job of selling it to me’.

  ‘Every day, every night, just you and me and whatever the world throws at us’.

  Dean smiled. ‘Okay, I’m sold’.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Having you all to myself instead of sharing you with the world and his dog for all these years? Too right I’d snap your hands off for that’.

  ‘You wouldn’t miss all the hustle and bustle that we’re used to?’

  ‘No is the short answer to that’ said Dean. ‘But I think you would’.

  ‘No I wouldn’t’ said Craig.

  ‘Yes you would’ said Dean. ‘Politics is what drives you as a human being. You see things that are wrong and you want to put them right’.

  ‘I could do that somewhere else’.

  ‘Like where?’

  ‘Teaching? I could go back to that?’

  ‘You still wouldn’t be able to stay away from politics’ said Dean. ‘It would be like a force pulling you back into its heart. You know I’m right’.

  ‘Yes, you are’ said Craig.

  ‘Although I’m not saying that I wouldn’t be happy if you did decide to give up politics and we went for the restaurant idea’ said Dean. ‘I just don’t think that you’re ready for that yet. Maybe one day but you’re not done trying to sort the world out’.

  ‘Well, the next election at which all these boundary changes will be implemented won’t be for another two years so we’ve got time to work out what we’re going to do’.

  ‘I think Ruby would see it as her chance for her and Jack to start making babies’.

  ‘She won’t be sick to the stomach to lose her job then?’

  ‘Well she will because she likes working for you’ said Dean. ‘And because of why and how it’s happened. But I also think she’ll use it as an opportunity to move on’.

  ‘I can understand that’.

  ‘You’ve still got allies, Craig. It was clear from the reaction at the meeting tonight that you’ve still got a lot of support and other people somewhere else would take to you like they’ve done’.

  ‘This is going to sound pathetic but there’s part of me that doesn’t want to give the party the satisfaction of knowing I’ve fallen in with their little scheme’.

  ‘I can understand that after the way you’ve been treated’ said Dean. ‘But you’re bigger than that, Craig’.

  ‘I’ve also got feelings’.

  ‘I know but think of what you’ve done in politics and what you could still do if you stick around’ said Dean.

  ‘I told you Nina was up to something’.

  ‘But do you think she was entirely responsible for this?’

  ‘I think she has more influence than we give her credit for’ said Craig. ‘And now I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. If I protest or put in any kind of appeal I’ll be accused of misogyny and the party will be trapped in some awful headlines’.

  ‘But they’re expecting you not to kick up a fuss publicly about the fact that your seat has been carved up and you can’t go for any of the new ones because they’re all-women shortlists’.

  ‘They are because they know me’.

  ‘Yes, exactly, and that’s how they plan to get away with what they’ve done. And this is supposed to be the fucking Labour party. We’re supposed to be the compassionate ones, the ones who do things differently to the other lot’.

  ‘Except when it comes to doing the business of politics’ said Craig. ‘That’s the one thing that unites all parties’.

  *

  ‘So what will happen to Nicholas Trent now?’ asked Ruby during their usual Friday morning strategy meeting. They used the meetings to discuss everything to do with constituency business for the past week and plan for the week coming up. Holly sat in the main office looking after the phones. ‘Now that he’s resigned his seat altogether as well as from being foreign secretary?’

  ‘Well right now he seems to have disappeared from view’ said Craig.

  ‘What, no fuss, no denial, no blaming it on forces beyond his control and all that bollocks?’ said Dean.

  ‘Yeah, come to think of it’ said Ruby as she looked through the pages of all the dailies. ‘There’s no picture of him standing with his arm round his wife looking all contrite and sickeningly false either. What’s going on?’

  Craig shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nobody knows’ he said. ‘But he’s slipped out of sight and some say he’s actually left the country. There’s no sign of him at his constituency house near Macclesfield, no sign of him at his residence in Chelsea, and his wife who’s a doctor has apparently taken an indefinite leave of absence from her job at one of the London hospitals’.

  ‘Curiouser and curiouser’ said Dean.

  ‘Indeed’ said Craig. ‘The rumour down at Westminster is that he knew this was coming and had already prepared to go into hiding once it blew up’.

  ‘But he hasn’t held a news conference or even spoken to the press’ said Dean. ‘Do you think this means that all of the stories about him are true?’

  ‘I think it does, yes’ said Craig. ‘I think he’s up to his neck in it’.

  ‘Well it couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke’ said Ruby.

  ‘Yes, and arms dealing has to be one of the most insidious trades there is’ said Craig. ‘It’s right behind child trafficking in my opinion. It leads to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent people and I’ve no sympathy for whatever happens to Trent and his cohorts now’.

  The three of them turned when they heard Holly screaming next door. They rushed through and were immediately hit by the smell. Somebody had sent Craig a parcel that was packed with shit. Whether or not it was human excrement they didn’t know and didn’t care. It was vile and Holly was crying with shock. But there was a note inside, done in the same way as the one Craig received before, with all the letters taken from magazines and newspapers and stuck crudely onto a sheet of paper. Craig picked it up between his fingertips and held it aloft before reading.

  ‘ ... by the time I’ve finished with you, Sutherland, you won’t be able to do this on your own. Men have died because of men like you. And I’ll make sure you suffer just like they’ve done ... ‘

  ‘I’m sick of this’ said Holly as she lifted her jacket and bag. ‘I’m not risking this happening again. I’m out of here’.

  *

  They arranged to meet on a patch of waste ground just on the western edge of Salford before it passed
into Lancashire. She saw his car and drove hers round in a large circle so that she could line her drivers’ side up with his.

  ‘Would you like to come and sit in mine?’ Nina asked as she lit a cigarette.

  ‘No, thanks’ said Howard Phelps. ‘I’d get lung cancer just by sitting in your car’.

  ‘Oh behave’ said Nina, irritably. ‘I gave up believing you could get pregnant from a toilet seat many years ago about the same time as I discovered that Santa Claus doesn’t exist and that to win the lottery I actually had to buy a ticket. No good praying for divine intervention when you haven’t even met Him half way’.

  ‘That reminds me of a joke’ said Howard.

  ‘Me too’ said Nina. ‘We have the same humour, you and I. That’s why we get on’.

  ‘Do we get on?’

  ‘Well don’t you think we do?’

  ‘In an expediency kind of way I suppose we do’ said Howard.

  Nina swallowed hard. However much she tried to get onto friendly terms with Howard Phelps there was always that distance that he kept there. It was as if he had to constantly remind her that he had the upper hand and if sacrifices had to be made then she’d be on the list way before him.

  ‘What have you done with Mr. Trent?’

  ‘He’s been in the States since before his resignation had been announced’ said Howard. ‘Senator Bainbridge has fixed him up in a house in Virginia that nobody will find. Not that there’s any risk at all of him talking. It’s for his own protection’.

  ‘And is his wife with him?’

  ‘You really are a bitch’.

  ‘So she is with him?’

  ‘Until next weekend when I fly out to take over until the sun sets on the story of his resignation’ said Howard. ‘But there’ll be no coming out story. That was agreed a long time ago’.

  ‘You sound like you agreed against your will?’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s life’ said Howard.

  ‘So is James Henderson talking?’

  ‘No’ said Howard. ‘I’m told that they’ve sent him to Hell and back but he’s not giving anything away which suggests that he genuinely doesn’t know anything’.

  ‘Will they kill him?’ Nina asked and for a moment she wondered how the hell she’d ever got herself into all this. But she couldn’t get out of it now. Wherever she went they’d be able to find her. She had no choice but to see it through.

  ‘Not yet’ said Howard. ‘They’ll hold onto him for a while longer. We mustn’t get too frenzied or greedy in murdering our way through this’.

  ‘Well I’ve managed to get Craig Sutherland out of the way’.

  ‘Yes, that was good work’ said Howard. ‘But where does he go now?’

  ‘I don’t know’ said Nina.

  ‘Well you’d better keep an eye on it because we don’t want him popping up in some other winnable seat’ said Howard.

  ‘I wouldn’t let that happen’.

  ‘And what about your press source?’

  Nina dragged hard on her cigarette. ‘What about him?’

  ‘You haven’t fallen out?’

  ‘Not exactly but you know what it’s like sometimes between men and women who fuck’ said Nina. ‘Or perhaps you don’t’.

  Howard smirked. ‘Hilarious, I’m sure. But just remember why you’re where you are now, because if you forget, then it wouldn’t be good for you’.

  ‘Howard, I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do so far and more’

  ‘Well then just carry on doing that’ Howard emphasised. ‘And make sure you get it right because you know how they deal with failure. That’s all I’m saying’.

  FOURTEEN

  Sara drove down to Yitzhak and Hettie Goldstein’s house. Something one of them had said when she was there with Adrian Bradshaw had not been able to let go of her mind. Something about everything taking them back to nineteen forty-seven. She didn’t have a clue as to what it could mean but she had to go back and pursue it with them.

  When she pulled up outside the house, Yitzhak was cleaning what looked like fresh graffiti from his front door. She got out of her car and walked up to him.

  ‘Mr. Goldstein?’

  Yitzhak turned round but he didn’t offer a friendly greeting. ‘Detective’.

  ‘Mr. Goldstein, what’s happened?’

  ‘If you and your colleagues had done your job properly then it wouldn’t have happened!’

  Sara paused to contain her irritation. ‘But what has happened, Mr. Goldstein? And have you told my uniformed colleagues?’

  ‘No, I haven’t’.

  ‘I also gave you my mobile number’ said Sara. ‘So why didn’t you call me?’

  Yitzhak put the sponge he’d been holding back in the bucket of water on the ground beside where he was standing. ‘You’d better come in’.

  Sara followed Yitzhak into the house and through to the kitchen. ‘Where’s Mrs. Goldstein?’

  ‘Staying with her sister down the road’ said Yitzhak as he filled the kettle. ‘As you can imagine she’s very upset’.

  ‘Mr. Goldstein, I couldn’t make it out from what was left on the door but what was the message this time?’

  ‘Oh there were no words, detective’ said Yitzhak. ‘It was a rather crude depiction of a man being hanged’.

  ‘And was it on any of the other doors in the street or elsewhere in the neighbourhood?’ asked Sara.

  ‘No’ said Yitzhak. ‘Our house was singled out this time. They knew their target’.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Detective, please sit down. I’ll make us some coffee and tell you everything’.

  Yitzhak fussed around the kitchen making the coffee. Once it was done he placed the pot on the table and next to it some sugar in a bowl and a small jug of milk. Then he took some biscuits from a tin and placed them on a plate which he then put down next to the pot of coffee. He poured some coffee for Sara and added some milk as she requested. Sara wondered if all elderly Jewish people were like Yitzhak. She’d probably find out soon enough. That would be the next thing in the journey of her relationship with Jacob. Parents on each side would have to be introduced if she and Jacob admitted to how serious things were getting between them.

  ‘So’ said Sara. ‘Tell me everything’.

  ‘My family, my parents, my siblings and I, arrived in England just before the outbreak of the second world war in 1939. We were from Lithuania originally. But when the war finished my father went out to Palestine, which was then ruled by the British, to prepare the way for us all to move out there and begin the realisation, like thousands of others, of the Jewish dream of a homeland. But, it didn’t quite work out that way. How it happened, I don’t know, none of us did, but my father somehow became involved with the Irgun’.

  ‘The Irgun?’

  ‘They were a Jewish underground organisation that campaigned against the continuation of British rule. They wanted the British out so that the Jews could declare themselves a homeland called Israel’.

  ‘So the Irgun were a terrorist organisation?’

  Yitzhak smiled. ‘You call it terrorism and we call it underground. But anyway, semantics won’t drive this revelation on. To cut a long story short, detective, my father was charged with the kidnapping and murder of a British soldier’.

  ‘And was it true?’

  ‘Yes, it was’ said Yitzhak. ‘He did it. He admitted it. Back here in Manchester we, his family, were profoundly shocked as you can imagine. We had started to think of ourselves as British, we had been given sanctuary by this great country of Britain, and there was our father, our father who was admitting to having murdered a British soldier. It was psychologically and emotionally conflicting to say the very least’.

  ‘Then you must be able to appreciate what it’s like for the vast majority of our Muslim citizens at the moment’ Sara ventured.

  ‘Well no because, you see, the populist feeling amongst Jews is that all Muslims are our enemy, whether they’re on the West Bank or C
rumpsall’.

  ‘I thought a man of your intelligence and wisdom would be above all that, Mr. Goldstein?’

  ‘I am a Jew first’ said Yitzhak. ‘That means there’s a constant internal battle with being reasonable, detective’.

  Sara smiled. ‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’ve been a Jew for seventy-eight years, detective’ said Yitzhak. ‘I’m one of the chosen people and I know myself’.

  ‘Why did you say Crumpsall?’ Sara questioned and then watched the reaction on Yitzhak’s face. He was embarrassed. He’d let something slip that he knew he shouldn’t have done. It was all over the otherwise kind, gentle face. He wanted to be honest with her but he knew he could only go so far. Crumpsall was where the mosque that Faisal Hussein and his cohorts attended. Was it just a coincidence that Yitzhak Goldstein mentioned it when he could’ve mentioned several places across greater Manchester where there was also a mosque?

  ‘Did I say Crumpsall? It was just the first name that came into my head’.

  Sara paused just long enough to let him know that she didn’t believe him. ‘Mr. Goldstein, is there something you’re withholding from me? Because if there is, I suggest you tell me now if it’s pertinent to any of our inquiries’.

  ‘No, of course there isn’t anything I need to tell you’ he answered swiftly, rubbing his face and his long, white beard. ‘Why would there be?’

  ‘A simple no would’ve been okay, Mr. Goldstein, but let’s move on’ said Sara. He was a dreadful liar but she’d come back to it. ‘Okay’ she said. ‘So coming back to your father? What happened to him?’

  ‘He was hanged’ said Yitzhak, folding his hands over and over on the table.

  ‘That’s some skeleton in the family closet’.

  ‘I’ll never forget the look in my mother’s eyes on the day it ... happened. I was only a teenager but I was old enough to understand the gravity of the situation. But it wasn’t just my father. Several British soldiers were murdered by the Irgun and it sparked anti-Jewish riots all over this country and particularly in places where there were a lot of Jewish people, like London, Liverpool, and here in Manchester. All of a sudden we didn’t feel safe again. It was a difficult time but you see, according to Hettie, my father died with honour, fighting, as she saw it, for the creation of a Jewish state’.