Friendless Lane

by Helen Black

  ‘So what did you do?’

  Hussain hung his head. ‘I ignored my cousin’s text. I thought to myself, he’s family, he won’t push it. I was wrong.’

  ‘He’s not a good person,’ said Jack. ‘That much is obvious.’

  ‘Yeah, I found that out when he started threatening to ask my parents for the money. I mean, it would kill them to find out what I’d done.’

  ‘So what happened?’ Jack asked, though he’d already guessed the answer.

  ‘I gave him the car.’ Hussain shrugged. ‘Like I told you, it wasn’t worth that much.’

  Jack leant against the door, the metal cold against his back. In the custody area, everything was still unnaturally quiet.

  ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me all this when I interviewed you?’

  ‘I thought it might get back to my parents,’ said Hussain. ‘They know the solicitor. Plus he told me you were trying to fit me up and I shouldn’t answer any of your questions.’

  Jack groaned. If Hussain had only told the truth, they could have been out there still investigating. They might have found Gemma’s killers by now. They might have found Velvet Blythe.

  ‘So where does this cousin of yours live?’ he asked.

  ‘Bury Park,’ Hussain replied. ‘They all live there with their parents.’ He let out a snort. ‘Like good Muslim boys.’

  [#]

  Talisa had sent Kelsey a text telling her where the Bury Park boys were serving up. To be honest, she would have been able to find the flat without it, just by following the steady stream of junkies, hoods up, heads down, like an army of zombies on the move.

  She caught sight of her reflection in the window of a mobile phone shop. Amongst the offers for cut-price Samsung Galaxies, she saw her own matted hair and sickly skin and figured she fitted right in with the living dead.

  Two women passed her. They were in full black burka, only their eyes visible through the smallest of slits. Enough though for Kelsey to see what they thought of her.

  She wanted to tell them that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. That she was on a reduction programme and then she had a place in rehab. She’d be clean and she’d get access to her sisters and she’d live a normal life.

  Instead, she trained her eyes on the gutter and kept going. Soon she’d have what she needed and then she wouldn’t give a shit what people like that were thinking. She wouldn’t give a shit what anyone was thinking.

  Kelsey spotted the place. Second-floor flat, doors and windows boarded, a younger at each end of the walkway. She squeezed the money in her pocket, damp, greasy, scrunched into a ball. Just enough for a rock and a baggie. She didn’t have a scooby what she was going to do tomorrow, now that Reggie had kicked her out of the club. Maybe try that new massage parlour up on Rosalind Street, though she’d heard they mostly took eastern Europeans there. Girls brought in from Latvia and places, their passports confiscated until they paid off their debt to the traffickers. Maybe she’d go grafting instead, head over to Asda and nick a few packets of batteries like the old days. Trouble was, if she got caught, that would be the end of rehab.

  One of the youngers met her at the stairwell. Dressed like an extra from The Wire, trackies halfway down his arse, hood pulled up over a snap cap, he nodded at her.

  ‘You looking?’

  She wanted to laugh in his face, tell him to go home to his mum, come back when he’d at least started shaving.

  ‘One white, one brown,’ she said.

  He made a sign to the younger at the other end of the walkway, who then disappeared into the flat.

  ‘Green,’ said the younger and held out an open palm against his leg.

  Kelsey pushed the money at him and walked towards the flat. Another woman was already waiting, leaning against the balcony, back to the door. Kelsey stood next to her.

  ‘Fuckers ain’t in a hurry, are they?’ said the woman.

  Kelsey sighed. Another reason why she hated scoring in Bury Park: they always kept you hanging around for the gear.

  The woman stretched an arm out into the rain, then held her hand up to her face and inspected the raindrops. Her fingers were swollen, full of fluid, where the valves of her veins had collapsed. Kelsey didn’t often spike, and when she did, she avoided her hands. You couldn’t give a punter a quick hand job with paws like that, could you?

  The younger came out of the flat. Like the other one, he must have been all of fourteen.

  ‘About time,’ said the woman with the hammer hands.

  He kissed his teeth like he was some gang banger in a movie, not a Pakistani kid from Bury Park.

  ‘Get over yourself, why don’t you?’ said Kelsey and held out her hand.

  The younger pushed a bag of brown and a rock wrapped in a tissue into her outstretched palm.

  ‘And mine,’ said the other woman.

  The boy slapped a package into her spongy hand and she winced. Then she and Kelsey turned and walked away.

  ‘I’m never scoring here again,’ said the woman.

  ‘Me neither,’ said Kelsey.

  But they both knew they’d be back tomorrow if the drought in the estates hadn’t broken.

  [#]

  Lilly drove through the main arteries of Bury Park.

  The numerous grocery shops were packing up for the night, shopkeepers flogging off the remaining fruit and vegetables to the bargain hunters who knew that at this time of day they could pick up okra and spinach and oranges cheaply.

  The red metal shutters on Halal World were being pulled down, and a butcher in bloodstained overalls smoked a quiet fag in the rain.

  Beyond the high street, the colour gave way to a narrow road flanked by grey terraced houses with doors that opened directly on to the grey pavement. One downstairs window was completely covered by a red banner reading ‘Smash the EDL and BNP’.

  At the end of the road was a small block of flats and a piece of waste ground. The latter was empty apart from the black skeleton of a burned-out car, its windows long since gone. She pulled over and parked up.

  ‘Not very nice here, is it?’ said Sam.

  Lilly shrugged. It was no worse than the estate where she’d grown up.

  ‘Do you think this is the right place?’ Sam asked.

  Lilly looked up at the flats, saw that one was boarded up and guarded by a couple of Asian kids in hoodies.

  ‘Yep, this is the right place,’ she answered.

  They watched the flat for a few minutes and at last the door opened. When Lilly clocked who’d come out, her stomach lurched. It wasn’t Kelsey.

  ‘You okay, Mum?’ asked Sam.

  She nodded but didn’t take her eyes off the man who was making his way along the walkway above. The hair in his eyes, the navy coat and the ominous swagger were all too familiar. As he went down the stairs and disappeared from sight, she held her breath, wondering if she’d made a mistake, but when he reappeared on ground level, feet from her car, she knew she was right: it was the man who had rapped on her car window. This close up, she could see his likeness to Hussain.

  ‘There,’ Sam shouted. ‘There she is.’

  ‘What?’ Lilly was still staring at the man.

  ‘Kelsey.’ Sam threw open the door. ‘Over the other side of the road.

  He was out and crossing before Lilly could stop him. She had no choice but to race after him. By the time she caught him, he was standing in the rain, as close to Kelsey as he could be without touching her.

  ‘Fuck me.’ Kelsey’s voice was thick with whatever she’d scored. ‘It’s the full search party.’

  ‘We were worried,’ said Sam.

  Kelsey looked puzzled. ‘About what?’

  ‘Never mind that, can we please get back in the bloody car,’ said Lilly.

  Safely inside, she looked for the man in the navy coat. He was no longer on the walkway, but standing at the edge of the kerb, rain running in silver rivers down his back.

  ‘See the man over there?’ Lilly asked Kelsey. ‘Do you r
ecognize him?’

  Kelsey pushed wet strands of hair from her face and narrowed her eyes.

  ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘Yeah, I do.’

  ‘From the club, right?’

  Kelsey nodded.

  A minicab pulled up and the man leaned forward, speaking to the driver through the open window.

  ‘He had something to do with what happened to Gem, didn’t he?’ asked Kelsey.

  ‘He’s related to Hussain, I’m certain of it. There’s a definite likeness,’ Lilly replied. ‘And I bet he knows where Velvet is too.’

  Kelsey went to open the door.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sam shouted, reaching across to stop her.

  ‘We ain’t gonna just sit here and let him take off,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘We’ll call the police,’ he replied.

  Kelsey laughed. ‘Do you even know what the response time is round here?’ The man in the navy coat got into the cab. ‘Will you explain, Lilly, before we lose him?’

  Kelsey was right. Calling 999 wasn’t going to work. The man would be long gone. The minicab’s engine started.

  ‘Shit,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Let’s follow him,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Sam. ‘We can’t chase after some random murderer.’

  Kelsey laughed. ‘Course we can.’

  ‘For a start, Mum has to pick up Alice.’

  ‘Lend me the car, then,’ said Kelsey. ‘I ain’t afraid of that twat.’

  Lilly gave her a withering look.

  ‘Fine,’ said Kelsey. ‘Let me and posh boy pick up the baby and you follow him.’

  The cab signalled to pull out.

  ‘Come on, Lilly,’ Kelsey shouted. ‘At least this way you’ve got a chance of keeping tabs on him and letting Jack know where he is. Maybe find this Velvet kid.’

  Lilly’s head felt as if it might explode. She’d come up with some daft plans in her time, but this one was even worse.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Have you got cash for a taxi?’

  ‘No,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘Yes,’ said Sam.

  The minicab pulled away into the rainy street. Kelsey and Sam jumped out of Lilly’s car.

  ‘Let me know you’re home safe with Alice,’ said Lilly. ‘And call Dad for backup.’

  Sam slammed the car door, slapped the roof twice and smiled at her through the passenger window. Lilly nodded and shot off after the minicab.

  [#]

  Dusk fell as the cab sped out of Luton and into the countryside beyond.

  In the grey half-light it was difficult to make out the potholes in the tracks. Lilly felt like she was doing a rally drive in a blindfold.

  The wing mirror gave a bang as an overhanging branch hit it.

  ‘Shit,’ Lilly shouted.

  The tail lights of the minicab disappeared ahead, which meant a sharp bend, so she slowed right down. When she did get round it, praying she wouldn’t meet anyone coming the other way, the cab was nowhere to be seen.

  She knocked on full beams, but there was nothing to see but the lane. Rainwater filled every crater and crevice.

  Dammit. She slapped the steering wheel. Where could he have gone?

  She trundled a few hundred yards in the gloom until she came to a white street sign:Friendless Lane.

  She almost laughed out loud. Never had there been a truer description. There really was nothing out here. To the left, the right, up ahead and behind, there was nothing but darkness and mud.

  She’d done it again, hadn’t she? Dashing off without thinking things through, jumping in without testing the water. No wonder she pissed people off.

  Angry with herself, she looked for a spot to turn around, but of course the lane was too narrow. Even in her Mini, it was too tight. She drove on a little further, hoping for a small clearing in the trees to back into. Instead, she saw something else: lights. At first she groaned, thinking it was an oncoming car and wondering how the hell they would pass, but she soon realized the lights weren’t moving. Somewhere up ahead there must be a house.

  She drove slowly, knowing how easy it would be to miss a turning on a track like this, squinting into every possibility. Then suddenly the lane was flooded with white light and the sound of tyres squealing to a halt. It was the minicab coming towards her. The driver flashed a few times and began to reverse, until he came to a passing space.

  Lilly wound down her window. ‘Thank you. It’s a nightmare down here, isn’t it?’

  ‘Give me Luton any day,’ said the driver, laughing. ‘You lost?’

  There was a green mini boxing glove swinging from his rear-view mirror, the crescent moon and star of the flag of Pakistan stamped across it.

  ‘You could say that.’ Lilly rolled her eyes. ‘Is there even anything on this lane?’

  ‘One house a couple of minutes up there,’ he answered. ‘That’s about it.’

  ‘I’ll turn around there then,’ said Lilly. ‘Head back into town.’

  ‘Don’t blame you,’ said the driver and gave a three-fingered salute before driving off.

  This was it, then. She hadn’t been wasting her time. She crawled along until she found it. Not so much an entrance, more a gap in the hedgerow. She killed her headlights and the engine. There was a house and she would stake her life that inside was the man in the navy coat, and a terrified Velvet Blythe.

  [#]

  The team pulled up outside Razwan Alvri’s house in an unmarked van.

  ‘Make sure your stab vests are secure, and that everyone has their baton and spray,’ said Jack. ‘Remember, this man is dangerous.’

  He didn’t need to add that he might have killed Lauren. For one thing, everyone knew that, and for another, he didn’t want to rile them up. When people lost their cool, stuff went wrong.

  Silently they got out of the van and took up their positions, Jack and two officers at the front door, three others around the back.

  Jack held up three fingers and mouthed the countdown. Three. Two. One. Go.

  An officer broke down the front door with a battering ram. The sound of the back door flying off its hinges followed.

  ‘Police,’ Jack yelled as they entered the house. ‘Police.’

  He ran through the splintered wood, down the hallway, kicking open the door to the sitting room, checking inside. He met the team coming in from the back.

  ‘Clear?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  He headed upstairs. ‘Police. Stay where you are.’

  He kicked open the first bedroom door and a girl screamed. She couldn’t have been older than Sam, sitting at her desk in her school uniform, doing her homework. Next to her was a mannequin’s head wearing a green hijab. She reached out to it.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Jack shouted and she dropped her hands. ‘Get down on the floor, hands on the back of your head.’

  Wide-eyed, the girl did as she was told.

  ‘Where’s Razwan Alvri?’ Jack asked.

  ‘He’s not here,’ the girl replied.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The girl began to cry. ‘Please let me cover my head.’

  Jack felt a stab of guilt. She was just a kid.

  Suddenly there was a bang and someone shouted, ‘Bathroom.’

  ‘You lying little shit,’ Jack spat at the girl.

  ‘No.’ She was sobbing now. ‘It’s not Razwan. Please let me put on my hijab.’

  Jack ignored her and raced to the bathroom, where he was greeted only by a blast of icy wind coming in from the open sash window. He leant out and saw that a man had jumped on to the roof of the porch below and was lowering himself to the ground. In the darkness he caught sight of a splash of red. It was a beanie.

  He bolted for the stairs, took them three at a time and flew out of the front door.

  The man in the red beanie was away on his toes.

  Jack thought of the CCTV footage. The passenger in the back on the night Gem was taken from the club. He launched
himself along the street, feet pounding through the puddles.

  The other man was younger than him, fitter, and he had a head start. But Jack had something more powerful. Jack was angry. Not just angry; he was absolutely fucking furious. He careered up the street in pursuit, energized by glittering rage.

  When the man was a few feet away, Jack threw himself at him, hitting the deck hard, rainwater stinging his eyes. The man tried to dodge him, but Jack had the back of his jeans and enough grip to bring him crashing down. The man kicked out, landing a heel in Jack’s face. There was the sound of breaking bone and the taste of blood pouring down the back of his throat.

  He hung on, ignoring the pain and the blood, taking kick after kick, until the rest of the team arrived and pinned the prisoner to the ground.

  He was glad to see them. If they had turned up even a second later, he would have beaten the man in the beanie to a bloody, shuddering pulp.

  [#]

  Jack had calmed slightly by the time the others had cautioned the prisoner and put him in the back of the van. One of the arresting officers walked back towards him and nodded at him with a smile.

  ‘Who is he?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Cal Mujbi.’

  ‘Say anything?’

  ‘Oh yeah.’

  Jack felt the tingle of energy snake through his torso. ‘Go on.’

  The other officer pulled out his notebook and read, ‘“I didn’t kill her, I just helped to move her body. You can’t say I killed her.”’

  Jack sniffed. There’d been plenty of DNA found on Gem’s body. If Mujbi had done more than he said, they would be able to find out.

  ‘I need to speak to him,’ he said.

  ‘Not a good idea, Jack. Let’s get him booked in and then you can interview him properly.’

  ‘That might be too late for the missing girl. I need to find Alvri.’

  The other officer looked dubious but held out a palm, indicating no resistance.

  Jack opened the back of the van. The smell of ammonia rushed at him. Cal Mujbi, big-ass Bury Park gangster and mover of dead bodies, had clearly pissed himself. Before Jack could open his mouth to ask anything, Mujbi began shouting.

  ‘I didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill her, man.’ He was shaking furiously and spit had collected at the corner of his mouth. ‘I’m telling you I didn’t kill her.’