by Mark Timlin
‘If there was no violence involved Nick wouldn’t think he was earning his money,’ said Melanie.
‘She paints a rather lurid picture of my methods,’ I said.
Melanie just gave me one of those looks in reply.
‘Well, I hope there will be no repeat of the incident,’ said Khan. ‘Now, will you both choose from the menu before we get down to business?’
So we did.
30
It was a high class establishment as Indians go, at least by south London standards, which are the ones I’m used to, which meant that things like lamb cutlets, duck and trout were on the menu, and the portions were tiny, at inflated prices and tarted up with greenery and carrots cut into the shape of rosebuds. You know the deal.
‘We get a lot of actors in here,’ said Khan proudly when our dishes were delivered. ‘The Granada studios are not far.’
‘See what I mean,’ I said to Melanie. ‘Real life’s not like Coronation Street at all.’
Khan looked puzzled but left it, and when our plates were full and our glasses charged with an expensive white wine, he said to me, ‘I’ve made arrangements for you to see Meena’s closest friends.’
I looked at him with interest over a forkful of okra.
‘There are three of them. Dalgit and Geeta you can see tomorrow, Meena’s English friend Caroline on Saturday, although I think you’ll be wasting your time.’
‘I’ve plenty of it,’ I said.
‘Yes I know, and I’m paying you well for it.’
‘And I hope I earn it. Give me their names and addresses and I’ll get started first thing.’
‘No. No addresses. We have to do this my way. It’s delicate, you see. It took me a lot of persuading for you to be allowed to see the Asian girls. The English girl wasn’t easy either. So I’ve arranged for Rajah to ferry you back and forth, and he will stay with you during your interviews. With a family member present of course. People know Rajah, and trust him. He is one of my foremost lieutenants and he was very fond of Meena. He’s known her since she was a child.’
‘That’s going to make it difficult to get them to be forthcoming,’ I said. ‘With half of Manchester sitting in.’
‘These are young women, Mr Sharman,’ said Khan. ‘The Asian girls have led sheltered lives. As for Caroline, she is still at school and it took all my persuasive powers to get you an interview. Believe me you do it this way or not at all. And you will be alone. I’m sorry Melanie but that’s how I arranged it.’
She nodded assent.
‘Very well, Mr Khan,’ I said. ‘Have it your way. But it’s not going to make my job any easier.’
‘You wanted to meet these children,’ said Khan. ‘I was against it from the beginning. I don’t like my family business being discussed by all and sundry.’
‘But you want Meena back.’
‘Of course. That goes without saying.’
I knew I was getting nowhere, and at least I could get to talk to Meena’s friends even if I had to be heavily chaperoned to do it, so I changed the subject. ‘These three are all girls,’ I remarked. ‘No boys.’
‘Meena was not allowed to mix with boys.’
‘She mixed with Paul Jeffries.’
‘I’ve explained the circumstances of that.’
‘Maybe that was why she ran away with him. Perhaps you should’ve been more liberal.’
‘Liberation has nothing to do with it. Meena was promised to another.’
I was amazed that Melanie wasn’t putting in her two penn’oth. Then of course she did. ‘Isn’t that rather an old-fashioned outlook, Mr Khan?’ she said.
He focused his gaze on her. ‘Fashion has nothing to do with it either,’ he said. ‘There is too much talk of fashion these days. I believe in the old ways. My marriage was arranged over fifty years ago when I was just a boy and my wife wasn’t even born. She stayed chaste until our wedding night. We only met that very day, but we had over twenty good years together, so don’t talk to me of fashion and liberation. I see the results of those things every day in my city. I see broken homes and delinquent children. I see drug addiction and the morality of alley cats. I see beggars on the streets and naked women in daily newspapers. Fashion. You have a daughter, Mr Sharman. I hope you never lose her because of fashion and liberal ways. Then you’ll know what I’m talking about.’
There wasn’t much either Melanie or I could add to that impassioned speech, and you never know, maybe he was right. In fact I almost had lost Judith to those very things, so we stayed silent and finished our meals in a rather subdued way.
Whilst the Irish coffees were being served to me and Melanie and I’d accepted a cigar from the box proffered by Ronit and she’d declined the same, Khan said, ‘I’ve arranged for you to meet my sons also.’
‘Good,’ I replied. ‘I’ve been looking forward to that. Where and when?’
‘On Saturday evening we will gather for dinner.’
‘Life’s just one long feast when you’re about, Mr Khan,’ I said.
He half bowed in his seat. ‘I do my best.’
I looked round the restaurant. ‘And your best is very good,’ I remarked. ‘How many restaurants do you have?’
He flicked his fingers as if it were of no consequence. ‘A dozen. Maybe more.’
‘Not quite sure, eh?’ I said. ‘I suppose it must be easy to lose track. Forget you’ve got a restaurant and then be pleasantly surprised when it’s featured in the Michelin guide.’
He smiled. ‘Your sense of humour gets stranger with the wine, Mr Sharman,’ he said.
‘You should see him when he gets on the brandy,’ said Melanie. ‘He’s a laugh a minute.’
‘You two seem well suited,’ said Khan.
Crazy as bed bugs I think is what he meant but was too polite to say.
‘We’re just a pair of comedians,’ I said. ‘Two little rays of sunshine.’
‘Perhaps you should get married,’ he said, and smiled as I choked on the Cuban.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Melanie. ‘I don’t think Nick is ready to settle down yet.’
‘Don’t leave it too long,’ said Khan. ‘Life is very short.’
And on that happy note we finished the meal.
31
When the three of us left the restaurant, a man and woman were just coming in and I stepped politely aside to let them through the door. Outside Melanie grabbed my arm. ‘Isn’t she in Coronation Street?’ she asked. ‘The one they put in prison in the show.’
Khan looked back through the door. ‘That’s right.’
‘See,’ said Melanie triumphantly to me. ‘It is like Coronation Street up here.’
‘I didn’t know they’d let her out,’ I remarked.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s not real,’ said Melanie.
‘What is?’ I asked as she crossed the pavement, but no one was listening.
Rajah was standing by the kerb with the Mercedes, and there was a BMW 7-Series with a driver for Khan. ‘Let me know how you get on with the girls,’ he said as he shook our hands before climbing into the back of his car. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Melanie, Mr Sharman,’ he added through the open window, but I don’t think he really meant it. At least about me. Melanie was a different matter.
‘A pleasure,’ I said to Melanie as Rajah opened the back door of the Merc for us. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘I’m beginning to wish I’d not kept on at you to take this job,’ she said as she settled into the deep upholstery. ‘You’re right about him. He gives me the creeps.’
‘Too late now. The money’s almost spent. I was a bit behind on the mortgage.’
‘Trust you.’
We got back to the hotel in a subdued mood and Rajah said, ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten,’ to me as he deposited us outside.
�
�I can’t wait,’ I said.
We went upstairs to our room and Melanie made coffee and we sat on the bed and I said, ‘This is a bust. They’re not going to tell me anything. I don’t know if Khan even wants Meena back. He’s not making it easy.’
‘What do you think he’s spending all this money for then?’ she asked.
‘Fuck knows. Anyway let’s go to bed and worry about it later.’
We did, but we weren’t in the mood for fooling around, and we just lay together side by side and watched the car headlights from outside make patterns on the ceiling through the gap in the curtains until eventually we both fell asleep.
I’d ordered an eight o’clock call and we were up and finishing breakfast when Rajah arrived to collect me. The restaurant was at one end of the foyer so I spotted him as he asked for us at the desk and was pointed in our direction. ‘He’s here,’ I said. ‘What are you going to do today?’
‘Shopping. I’ve heard there’s some good places in town.’
‘I’m sure there are. I bet all the actresses from Coronation Street shop at them too.’
‘I wish I’d never mentioned that show,’ she said as Rajah arrived at the table.
‘Ready?’ he grunted.
‘As I ever will be. What time do you expect to get back here?’
‘Mid-afternoon,’ he said.
‘I’ll see you in the bar then,’ said Melanie.
‘Shop till you drop, babe,’ I said and followed Rajah out into the drizzle to where the Mercedes was illegally parked again.
32
We drove through thickening rain into the suburbs of Manchester, which were very much like the suburbs of London as far as I could tell. Leafy and affluent, with Jeep Cherokees, Audis, BMWs and Jaguars parked in the streets and drives. All the way Gary Glitter’s greatest hits were on the stereo. ‘You really like this stuff, don’t you?’ I said to Rajah who had been silent throughout the entire journey.
‘The Leader,’ he said.
‘But fallen on hard times.’
‘He’ll be back.’
‘Did you miss him while he was away?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you keep his picture up on your wall?’
Rajah looked over through slitted eyes. ‘Funny,’ was all he said.
I thought so. I was tempted to ask if he told those naughty boys not to call, but I thought he might take more offence.
Eventually we turned into a wide boulevard with detached houses separated by trees and shrubs on both sides of the road, and Rajah slid the Mercedes to a halt outside an imposing set of iron gates. ‘First one,’ he said. ‘Her name’s Dalgit. They were at school together. They’ve known each other since childhood.’
‘’K,’ I said, and went to open the door. He put a meaty hand on my arm. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked as the rain spattered the windscreen in front of me.
‘What?’
‘Looking for Meena and that boy.’
‘Because it’s my job. I’m a detective and I’m being well paid.’
‘Meena was my friend. I’ve known her since she was born. She is a beauty.’
I didn’t know quite where we were heading with this. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen the photo.’
‘The photo doesn’t do her justice.’
‘I’m sure it doesn’t.’
He said nothing.
‘And?’ I asked.
‘And I don’t want to see her hurt.’
‘Nor do I.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Yes. I just want to see her back safe.’
‘But how safe would she be?’
I shrugged his hand off and said, ‘What’s all this about? I thought you would want what Khan wants.’
‘I do up to a point.’
I felt we were getting on to dangerous ground. ‘Is there something I don’t know?’
He grinned, showing large white teeth. ‘There’s lots you don’t know.’
‘Like what?’
‘You’ll find out.’
‘Something tells me that almost everyone has a hidden agenda up here.’
‘Maybe, maybe not.’
‘You’re not being very clear.’
He shrugged.
‘And something else tells me that Mr Khan wouldn’t be happy if I told him about this conversation.’
‘I’d deny it ever took place, then I’d find you and you might end up in the canal swimming with the fishes.’
Shit. I believed he was serious.
‘Rajah,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what’s going on here, honest. I’m just trying to earn a crust. But if there is something I should know just tell me. It won’t go any further, Scout’s honour.’
He looked at me hard and long and sucked his teeth. ‘We’ll see,’ he said. ‘Just be careful.’
Believe me I was going to be.
33
He obviously wasn’t going to elaborate, so I opened the door and ducked through the rain close on Rajah’s heels, up to the porch of the house and he rang the doorbell.
It was answered by a tall, middle-aged Indian gentleman with a beard shot through with grey, wearing a charcoal suit, white shirt and plain tie. ‘Rajah,’ he said.
‘Mr Singh,’ Rajah replied and they embraced.
‘Any news on Meena?’ asked Mr Singh.
‘No. This is Mr Sharman, the gentleman Mr Khan told you about.’
Singh surveyed me and stood back to allow us to enter. Once inside he shook my hand, but it was barely a touch. ‘I don’t like doing this to Dalgit. She’s distressed enough already about Meena. I’m sure this will just be a waste of time.’
‘I understand,’ I reassured him. ‘I have a daughter of my own in her teens. Believe me, I’ll keep it short and simple.’
‘She’s in the lounge,’ he said and pointed to an open door beside an imposing staircase. The house was silent and chilly and extremely neat.
I went into the room where a slight, pretty girl in a sari was standing by the mantelpiece of a dead fire. ‘Dalgit, this is Mr Sharman,’ said Mr Singh. ‘He has a few questions for you. You know Rajah of course. Please let us all be seated. Does anyone require refreshments?’
I shook my head and Rajah did the same, and all four of us took our seats. Me on a straight-backed chair next to a small table, Rajah and Mr Singh on a long sofa and Dalgit on a matching armchair. I moved my chair to be in front of her. ‘Dalgit,’ I said. ‘I know this is upsetting, but Meena’s father has asked me to find her. You were her friend. Maybe you know something…’
She went to deny it and I smiled.
‘… I know. You’ve thought long and hard, but this is my job, and you may know something important that you haven’t even thought of. When did you last see her?’
‘A few days before she left. We went to the cinema.’
‘What did you see?’
‘Titanic. For about the sixth time.’
‘You obviously like the film.’
‘It’s wonderful. Leonardo DiCaprio is so dishy.’
Mr Singh made a sound of dissent but I ignored him. ‘My daughter likes him too,’ I said. ‘Did Meena tell you she was leaving?’
‘No.’
‘No indication at all?’
She shook her head.
‘Did you know she was seeing Paul Jeffries?’
She looked at her father, then shook her head. ‘Only as a friend. In the group.’
‘But you had no idea it was serious?’ I pressed.
‘No.’
‘And have you heard from her since?’
Another shake of the head.
‘You’d tell me if you had?’
She looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘Yes. I miss Meena. I wish she was here. We use
d to have fun.’
Something told me that fun was in short supply in this household. I smiled. ‘Of course you would. Do you think any of her other friends have?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. Geeta would’ve told me, I’m sure.’
‘How about Caroline?’
‘We don’t see each other.’
‘Fair enough. That’s it, Dalgit. Thanks for your help.’
‘I haven’t. Helped you, that is.’
‘Yes you have.’ I took one of my cards from my pocket and put it on the arm of her chair. ‘If you think of anything or hear from Meena please get in touch with me. With your father’s permission, of course.’
I looked at Mr Singh and he nodded. He seemed pleased the interview was over. I stood up. ‘Thank you both,’ I said. ‘We’ll be off now.’
Rajah rose and Mr Singh showed us to the door. ‘I told you it would be a waste of time,’ he said, as he opened it.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘Most of my time is.’
34
Rajah and I ate lunch in a balti house in another suburb. But an inner one this time that was more like I’d remembered Manchester as being. It was full of high rises and the restaurant itself was in a row of mean shopfronts, half of which were empty and boarded up, and there was a metal shutter over the window decorated with graffiti that was kept permanently pulled down as far as I could tell. Left to my own devices I would’ve been sure the place was derelict.
But the food was good, better in fact than the poncey place we’d eaten in on the previous evening. I had straight lamb balti with bread, and because the place wasn’t licensed, a Coke. Rajah had chicken. The ambience was crap and the waiter picked wax out of his ear whilst he served us, but I enjoyed the meal.
Rajah opened up a bit about his life as we ate. He was an old rock and roller at heart and had toured with loads of top bands as a minder before he’d webbed up with Khan. He still missed life on the road. ‘I could’ve worked with Oasis,’ he said. ‘I know their mum.’