Friendless Lane

by Helen Black

  Lilly took a deep breath. Jack wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

  ‘Thing is, Jack, I’m not sure it’s him.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The car,’ said Lilly. ‘The one I saw in Tye Cross.’

  ‘Hussain’s car,’ said Jack.

  Lilly smiled. ‘Well, technically, yes, but someone else is using it.’

  ‘That’s not possible.’

  Lilly pursed her lips. ‘After you called me to say you’d arrested Hussain, someone else saw the car.’

  ‘Who saw it?’

  ‘The mother of the girl I brought into the rape suite,’ said Lilly. ‘The girl was dropped off by that car after you’d arrested Hussain.’

  ‘It could be a mistake.’

  Lilly rubbed his arm. ‘It’s too much of a coincidence, Jack. This girl was raped and the man in the car must be part of that. If you think about it, it fits with what happened to Gem.’

  It certainly fitted more than a random teacher being part of a grooming gang. Jack’s face darkened. He was going to be in all sorts of shit over this.

  ‘Hussain’s guilty,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Lilly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  They stood for a moment, Lilly’s hand on Jack’s arm, his face changing like the sky on a stormy day.

  ‘I can tell you,’ said Kelsey.

  Lilly and Jack turned as one. ‘What?’

  ‘Let me see the geezer you’ve nicked,’ said Kelsey. ‘I can tell you if he’s one of the Bury Park boys that go to the club.’

  Jack looked at Lilly.

  ‘Why not?’ she said.

  He dived back into the station to fetch his laptop. Lilly sat back down next to Kelsey.

  ‘This don’t look too good, does it?’ said Kelsey.

  ‘Not great,’ Lilly agreed.

  ‘Did he have to convince some high-up people to make this arrest?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Course he might not have the wrong bloke,’ said Kelsey. ‘No reason why he wouldn’t be sharing the car with someone. No reason why they both didn’t do for Gem. Jack said there was a gang of them.’

  Lilly nodded. It was a fair point. Just because someone else had used the car to collect and drop off Velvet didn’t mean Hussain was innocent. She felt a little lighter at that prospect.

  When Jack returned, he sat next to Kelsey and opened his laptop. He typed ‘Field High School’ into the search engine. The home page showed a playground full of smiling children.

  Kelsey laughed. ‘It weren’t like that in my day.’

  ‘You attended Field High School?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘Yeah, we all did before Mum put us into care,’ said Kelsey. ‘It was a proper shithole.’

  Lilly pictured Manor Park, with its manicured croquet lawns, its lacrosse pitches and tennis courts. Life wasn’t a level playing field, was it?

  Jack navigated from the home page to the English department, and there was Khalid Hussain and his student, grinning for the camera.

  ‘Is that him?’ Kelsey asked.

  Jack nodded.

  Kelsey stared at the screen and Lilly held her breath.

  ‘Well?’ Jack asked.

  ‘He’s got a look about him,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘What sort of look?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Dunno, sort of familiar,’ Kelsey replied. ‘I ain’t saying he’s definitely been in the club, but I think I recognize him.’

  Jack slammed the lid shut and beamed.

  ‘You’ll do for me, Kelsey Brand.’

  ‘Hold on.’ Lilly put up her hands. ‘She didn’t identify him.’

  ‘I’m not looking for something that would stand up in court,’ he said.

  ‘Good, because this absolutely would not.’

  Jack punched her on the shoulder good-naturedly. ‘You worry too much.’

  ‘I just don’t want you to get burned over this, Jack.’

  He smiled and made for the door. ‘Good evening, ladies. I have a very bad man to put away.’

  When he’d left, Lilly and Kelsey remained in their seats, side by side.

  ‘He really loves you, don’t he?’ said Kelsey.

  ‘Stop it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t go there.’

  Kelsey gave a laugh that soon turned into a wheezy cough. ‘I might be a mug from the Clayhill, but I’ve met enough wankers in my time to know a good bloke when I see one.’ She stood and pulled down her skirt. ‘And he’s a good bloke.’

  Lilly reddened and changed the subject.

  ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘No bleedin’ idea.’

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  Kelsey shrugged. ‘No idea what anything feels like any more, Lilly.’

  ‘How about a nice big bowl of pasta?’

  [#]

  Jack was going to get Hussain to crack. He could feel it. As for Jafari, if the bastard put one more foot out of line, Jack was going to sling him out of the nick.

  The custody area was quiet and the sergeant was form-filling.

  ‘Where’s our friend with the leaky chin?’ Jack asked.

  The sergeant looked up from his paperwork. ‘Been carted off to hospital, thank God. Honestly, why do these girls do it?’

  ‘Booze is too cheap,’ Jack replied. ‘And all their mates are doing it.’

  ‘Some mates, letting her get into that state.’

  Jack nodded. He liked a pint himself. And he and Phil Cheney had got into more than one or two scrapes over the years. A pub crawl across Liverpool sprang to mind, when they’d ended up in a club called Bananas, dirty dancing with a couple of drag queens called Raquel and Romola. But even they knew when to put the brakes on.

  He headed to the interview room and knocked on the door. Hopefully Hussain had had a good chance to stew over the photographs of Gem’s dead body.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked Hussain. ‘You’ve had an opportunity to chat with your lawyer?’ The photographs had been collected into a neat pile and placed face down on the table. ‘A chance to reassess?’

  Jafari gave a smile so citric it must have stung his lips. ‘We don’t need to reassess. Our position remains exactly the same.’

  Jack hid his disappointment by fiddling with the camera.

  ‘Right, interview continues at …’ He checked his watch. ‘Seven forty-two p.m.’

  ‘Time flies when you’re having fun,’ said Jafari.

  Jack sat and faced Hussain. ‘Let me go back to your car. A BMW 5 series, I believe.’

  Hussain didn’t respond, just stared back at Jack. The sight of Gem’s mutilated body clearly hadn’t ruffled him.

  ‘Now this car, your car, was recorded entering and leaving Latymer Street in Tye Cross on numerous occasions.’ Jack reached into his box file and pulled out the log Lauren had prepared. ‘This is a list of all those occasions.’ He placed the log on the table. ‘Would you like to comment on that?’

  ‘Would you like to ask a question?’ said Jafari.

  Jack kept his frustration in check.

  ‘Mr Hussain, can you recall entering Tye Cross on any of those occasions?’

  Jafari snorted. ‘You expect anyone to remember where they were on all those dates?’ He flicked the log as if it were a dead fly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Jack. ‘Let’s look at the last entry, two nights ago. Even your client’s memory should manage that.’ He turned to the suspect. ‘What were you doing in Tye Cross two nights ago?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Were you visiting Orlando’s?’

  ‘No comment.’

  Jack underlined the entry with his finger. ‘If you weren’t in Orlando’s, where were you?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘If you were somewhere else, you’d better mention it now,’ said Jack. ‘I’m sure Mr Jafari has explained the rules relating to alibis?’

  Hussain glanced at Jafari.
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  ‘I see,’ said Jack. ‘He hasn’t told you.’ He tutted and shook his head. ‘Well the thing is this, if you try to bring up an alibi at a later date, then inferences can be made about the validity of that alibi. Understand?’

  ‘No comment.’

  Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘Put it this way, Khalid, why would anyone believe something you don’t mention now when you can?’ He leaned towards Hussain. ‘They’d just think you’d had your chance, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘We’ve already established that no one is ever going to see this interview,’ said Jafari.

  ‘Have we?’ Jack didn’t take his eyes from Hussain. ‘Do you really want to take that risk, Mr Hussain?’

  There was a pause. Jack could almost hear the thoughts pouring through Hussain’s mind as he weighed up the alternatives.

  ‘No comment.’

  Jack sat back in his chair and tried to think like his prisoner. The man obviously didn’t give a damn about Gem. He’d already started going back to Orlando’s; maybe he’d even started to line up a new girl. The only thing likely to rattle him was the thought of being caught. He wasn’t some hardened lag; he’d never even been arrested before today.

  ‘Have you ever been inside a prison, Mr Hussain?’ Jack asked.

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Thought not. I don’t blame you. They’re bloody awful places. I wouldn’t want to spend a second in one if I could avoid it.’

  ‘Get to the point,’ said Jafari. ‘Assuming there is one.’

  ‘It’s easy for him to take a gamble on this never getting to court.’ Jack nodded towards Jafari. ‘He’s not the one looking at four months on remand in Wormwood Scrubs.’

  Jafari gave a hollow laugh.

  ‘He still gets paid whether he gives you good advice or not, Mr Hussain.’

  Jafari stopped laughing and slapped the table with his palm. ‘Are you questioning my professional integrity?’

  Jack didn’t answer but spoke directly to Hussain. ‘Where were you on the night of fifteenth February?’

  ‘No comment.’

  Jafari slapped the table again. ‘I want this interview terminated.’

  Jack ignored him. ‘The day after Valentine’s Day.’ He pulled out the cleaned-up photograph. ‘This is your car leaving Latymer Street, isn’t it?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘I said I want this interview finished,’ Jafari roared. ‘I want to speak to a senior officer.’

  Jack tapped the blurred face of the man driving. ‘This is you, isn’t it, Mr Hussain?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Course it is, it’s your car,’ said Jack. ‘And who’s this in the back wearing a red hat?’

  ‘No comment.’

  Jafari stood up and pushed back his chair. ‘I said—’

  ‘Sit down,’ Jack shouted. ‘Or I will nick you for obstruction.’

  Jafari’s mouth fell open, but he sat back down.

  ‘And who’s this, Mr Hussain?’ Jack tapped the front passenger. ‘It doesn’t look like another one of your friends, does it?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘This person looks small and white, don’t you think?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Who is it, Mr Hussain?’ Jack hissed.

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘I think that’s Gemma Glass,’ said Jack. ‘Do you deny it?’

  ‘No comment.’

  Jack grabbed the photograph and held it up. ‘Do you deny that this is Gemma Glass in your car on the fifteenth of February? The day she was abducted and taken to her death?’ His hands were shaking and the photograph quivered. He could smell his own sweat. Come on, you piece of crap, say something. Anything.

  ‘No comment.’

  [#]

  Kelsey washed the dishes in silence. There were a dishwasher, but it were already full of dirty pots, and anyway, she’d always liked doing it by hand. The feel of washing-up liquid and hot water were nice. Comforting. Kelsey’s mum had taught them all how to do it properly. Along with moving the furniture when she hoovered and tucking sheets like an envelope so that they lay tight and wrinkle-free. Kelsey laughed. Even when Mum’s habit had been at its worst and she had been melting under the heat of debts and fear, she’d kept their flat spick and span.

  Lilly’s place weren’t anywhere near as clean. Mum would have had a fit at the sight of the inside of her fridge. And there were something properly rotten in the cupboard where she kept her veg.

  Not that it were a bad place. Not at all. It might not be tidy, but it felt warm and inviting, like Lilly were stamped all over it. Take the table in the kitchen where they’d eaten dinner. It had definitely seen better days, but that didn’t make it shitty. Instead, it were covered in little nicks and cuts and paint marks, where Kelsey imagined the kids had been making little Christmas cards covered in glitter and that.

  Dinner had been nice. Pasta spirals with smoked salmon. Home-cooked. Everyone had eaten loads and talked. Or at least, Lilly and her ex-husband had talked. He talked all posh, saying that Lilly should get an au pair. She told him he should pay more child support. Alice had sat in her high chair, banging her fists and roaring, like a proper little wild animal. Sam had mostly stared down at his food, occasionally sneaking a suspicious glance at Kelsey. She couldn’t blame him for that. She must look a bleedin’ sight.

  When the ex-husband left, Kelsey offered to wash up. It seemed only right.

  She was rinsing a bowl, the water as hot as she could stand it, when she smelled something. Weed. Nah, it couldn’t be. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She sniffed again. No tricks; definitely weed.

  She left the bowl to drain, wiped her hands down her front and followed the smell to the front door, which had been left ajar. She stuck her head outside. The rain had stopped. To the side of the house she saw the glow of a joint in the darkness.

  ‘All right?’ she said.

  Sam jumped and hid the joint behind his back.

  ‘Bit cold out here, ain’t it?’ said Kelsey.

  ‘Are you spying on me?’ he asked.

  ‘Why would I give a shit what you’re doing?’ she asked.

  ‘So have you come to give me a lecture?’ He had a posh voice. ‘Because I don’t need one.’

  Kelsey laughed. ‘Listen, mate, I ain’t in a position to lecture you about nothing, believe me.’

  He stared at her.

  ‘I’m waiting to go into rehab,’ she told him. ‘So I ain’t likely to get vexed over a bit of puff now, am I?’

  ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why are you going into rehab?’

  ‘If I were a celebrity, they’d probably say I were suffering from nervous exhaustion,’ she said.

  Sam laughed. He looked a lot like Lilly then. Only without the mad ginger hair. He took the joint from behind his back and had a drag.

  ‘You won’t tell Mum?’

  Kelsey shook her head. ‘For fuck’s sake, I think you’re old enough to decide if you want a bit of weed.’

  He held out the joint to her and she took it. A good smoke of this and a couple of jellies might be enough to keep her on a level for a few hours more.

  ‘And I ain’t lecturing you or nothing, but don’t ever be tempted by more than this,’ she said, and inhaled deeply.

  ‘Sounds like a lecture to me.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  They both laughed.

  Somewhere upstairs in the house Alice screamed. Lilly had been trying to settle her for over an hour.

  ‘This family is seriously screwed up,’ said Sam.

  Kelsey took another long drag. ‘From where I’m standing you seem like the bleedin’ Waltons.’

  ‘Now I know you’re taking the piss.’

  ‘Seriously.’ Kelsey blew smoke into the air. Not bad gear as it went. ‘Your mum and dad still get on fine.’

  ‘You call that fine?’

  ‘They ain’t trying to batter each other, are they?’
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  Sam shrugged.

  ‘And you’ve got your sister,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘Haven’t I just?’ he said. ‘Mum palms her off on me whenever she can. Like tonight, I was supposed to be working.’

  ‘What? You had to help out for a couple of hours boo-fucking-hoo. I’d give anything to have my sisters in the same house as me. I’d give anything to just bleedin’ see ’em.’

  ‘Where are they?’ Sam asked.

  Kelsey shrugged. ‘In care.’

  ‘What about your mum?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Dead.’

  ‘And your dad?’

  ‘Dead.’

  Sam’s eyes were like saucers. He might be six foot and ripped like Wolverine, but he was just a kid.

  ‘So think on when you’re moaning about Lilly and having to mind your sister once in a while. Family’s important.’ Kelsey finished the joint and flicked the dog end on to the drive. ‘Got any more?’

  He laughed, reached into his back pocket and pulled out another. ‘Proper draw monster, aren’t you?’

  ‘Mate, I’m a bleedin’ crackhead. This stuff ain’t hardly touching the sides.’

  He put the joint in his mouth, took out a lighter and tried to spark it up, but it wouldn’t work. He shook the lighter and tried again. Nothing. Kelsey took out her own and lit it up. She brought it to Sam’s face and cupped the joint against the wind. When the joint caught, he took it out of his mouth and blew smoke on the end until it glowed orange. Kelsey lowered her lighter but didn’t step back.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  ‘For what?’ she asked.

  ‘Your sisters. Your parents,’ he said. ‘For everything.’

  She snatched the joint and took in a lungful of smoke. ‘Yeah, well, shit happens.’

  [#]

  The FME prepared to take a DNA swab from Hussain. Frankly, there was no rule to say Jack shouldn’t do it himself, and the doctor looked like he wanted to go home, but Jack had persuaded him.

  ‘I want someone neutral,’ he had told him. ‘I don’t need this muppet saying I hurt him, or I messed with the swab.’

  The FME had groaned, muttered something about a pregnant wife, but ultimately agreed to do the job.

  ‘Good man yourself,’ Jack told him.

  Jack and Jafari stood side by side, watching, careful to ensure they didn’t touch.

  ‘If you open your mouth as wide as you can, I’m going to drag this along the inside of your cheek,’ the FME explained to Hussain. ‘It won’t hurt at all.’