by Mark Timlin
‘Maybe it was for the better you didn’t,’ I said picking a hair off my plate. ‘You might not have got on with them.’
‘They’d be in a lot less trouble if I was along,’ he replied. ‘I’d keep those boys in line.’
Looking at the great shoulders inside his distressed leather jacket I was sure he could.
The second interview of the day followed the lines of the first, except this time both Mum and Dad were in attendance. Geeta told me much the same as Dalgit. She didn’t know about Meena and Paul except as friends. She didn’t know where Meena was, hadn’t heard from her since she left, and missed her badly. I believed the girl and didn’t stay long, it seemed like just another waste of time. When we came out of the house, Rajah looked at me with an ‘I told you so’ face and I didn’t argue. ‘Back to the hotel,’ I said and he concurred.
When I got back to the hotel Melanie was waiting in the bar on a roll from a hard day’s shopping in the boutiques of Manchester. ‘Get anything good?’ I asked.
‘Plenty,’ she replied. ‘There’s some sexy underwear shops in this town. I might try some of it on for you later.’
‘I don’t think I’m in the mood,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t appreciate it. Save it for when we get home. Anyway I didn’t think you were into stiff things up your jacksie.’
‘This is all pure silk.’
‘It’s tempting, but I still think it’d be wasted on me tonight.’
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked as I sipped at an overpriced bottle of beer.
‘I get the feeling I’m being pissed on from a great height,’ I said. ‘It occurs to me that some people don’t want me to find Meena, and I don’t know why.’
‘Is your fee refundable?’ she asked only half jokingly.
‘Not if I’ve got anything to say about it. Let’s get cleaned up and go out and eat. And not bloody Indian for a change.’
35
The receptionist at the desk downstairs in the foyer told us that the best Chinese restaurant in Manchester was just around the corner, and she phoned through and got us an immediate reservation. You wouldn’t get that treatment in a London hotel. I thanked her with a fiver, she gave us the directions and we decided to walk.
It took about ten minutes through the back streets behind the hotel, and when we arrived the maître d’ showed us to a table by the window and we ordered gin and tonics. ‘So what’s the problem?’ Melanie asked me when they arrived.
‘Rajah’s got some hidden agenda,’ I said after I told her about the interviews I’d had with the two Asian girls.
‘What? I thought he was Khan’s number one.’
‘He may well be, but I’m sure he knows more than he’s telling.’
‘You think he knows where Meena is?’
‘I don’t know. But somebody in this town does.’
‘What about the girl you’re seeing tomorrow?’
‘Dunno. She’s English. Maybe she’ll know more and be willing to tell me. But with Rajah and members of the immediate family in attendance, who knows? This whole trip has been a waste of time so far.’
‘But a nice little holiday.’
‘You didn’t have to sit in the car with Rajah for half the day listening to T. Rex and Gary Glitter.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.’
‘Not really. It took me back a bit I must admit.’
‘To when you wore tartan trousers and a satin jacket?’
‘Don’t remind me. We haven’t had the Rollers on yet. But I expect we will.’
‘It’ll be something to look forward to.’
The waiter appeared and we ordered one of the recommended meals for two. I couldn’t be bothered to choose anything. I was feeling pissed off and a bit annoyed that our trip to Manchester was becoming a walk up the garden path. I was determined to get to the bottom of the case and find Meena and Paul, and I knew that if I did it would be despite the so-called help I was getting rather than because of it.
But at least when the food arrived it was as good as its reputation, and after a couple of bottles of wine and a few brandies I was feeling better as we walked to the hotel through the back streets again.
Better, that was, until we turned into the road directly behind the hotel and I heard the roar of a car engine behind us, the screech of tyres as it took off at high speed, and when I looked back I was blinded by its headlights as it bounced up on the narrow pavement and headed straight for us.
‘Shit!’ I shouted, shoved Melanie in the direction of an alley off to the side of us, and leapt in the opposite direction myself to try and get as much distance between us as was possible. The car powered its way in our direction hitting the wall and throwing sparks from its bodywork as it zigzagged crazily towards us.
The car missed me by an inch and its slipstream tugged at my clothes as it passed me, crashed back off the pavement over the kerb and shot round the corner out of sight.
I didn’t get the make or licence number. All I saw was that it was a dark, teardrop-shaped saloon, probably a Ford or a Vauxhall.
I stood shaking in the deserted street for a second then remembered Melanie. ‘Mel,’ I called. ‘Are you OK?’
A bedraggled figure limped out of the alley. ‘What happened?’ she said tearfully as I went to her and held her tightly.
‘Somebody tried to kill us. Or more likely me,’ I said. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No, not really. But someone should empty those dustbins. Christ knows what’s in them.’
I held her at arm’s length and looked at her in the faint light from a lamppost a few yards away. ‘Yeah, you stink. Jesus. What did you fall into?’
‘Thanks a lot. I don’t like to think,’ she replied. ‘But whatever it was it was past its sell-by.’ And we both started to laugh hysterically with relief.
36
The same receptionist was on duty when Melanie and I limped back into the hotel and her eyes widened with alarm at the state of the pair of us. See, I always limp a bit from an old injury, but Melanie had broken the heel off one of her shoes and laddered both legs of her dark tights so she showed long strips of white skin through them, which didn’t help. And she was covered in garbage, some of which had adhered to me when we’d embraced, so we looked pretty bad I’ve got to admit. ‘What happened to you?’ the receptionist asked. ‘Are you all right?’
‘A bit of an accident,’ I replied.
‘Do you need an ambulance? A doctor?’
‘All I need is the room key and a hot bath,’ said Melanie rather crossly, and who could blame her, the state she was in. So much for a nice little holiday.
‘Of course. Three-oh-seven, wasn’t it?’ said the girl.
‘That’s the one,’ I replied.
She passed over the key and we ran the gauntlet of stares from the other residents in situ as we headed for the lift.
When we got to the room Melanie stripped to the buff whilst I ran a bath for her then got undressed myself. I put all our clothes into the laundry bag provided and forced it into the wastepaper basket. We weren’t going to wear any of that stuff again. Then dressed in one of the courtesy bathrobes I joined her in the bathroom with a couple of large brandies.
‘What the hell happened there?’ she demanded through the steam as I handed her one of the drinks.
‘Someone tried to warn us off, or worse,’ I replied. ‘That sort of thing happens from time to time. Remember Chris Grant and his pals?’ I was referring to some villains I’d had dealings with in the case of a missing wife earlier that year. It was during my investigations that I’d met Melanie.
‘How could I forget?’ she asked.
‘It’s not all wine and roses, this job,’ I said.
‘I know that.’
‘I’m just sorry you got involved.’
‘Who do you think it was?’ sh
e asked. ‘In the car, I mean.’
‘Your guess is as good as mine at the moment,’ I replied. ‘But I intend to find out.’
Whilst she was drying herself off I ran a bath for myself and afterwards I lay with Melanie in my arms, as she tossed and turned and mumbled to herself as she slept.
Yes, I thought as I lay there listening to the early morning Manchester traffic outside. I’ll find out all right.
37
The next morning Melanie was back to normal apart from some soup bowl sized bruises on her ribs and bottom. ‘Snap,’ I said when she showed them to me. ‘I’ve got a set just like that myself.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Christ, we must’ve looked a state last night,’ I said. ‘Covered in muck, stinking to high heaven, and me with a face like the loser in a light-heavyweight contest that went the full fifteen rounds.’
‘That poor girl behind reception,’ she said, with the first smile of the day.
‘I bet she was glad we were staying in her hotel,’ I said. ‘Just the sort of high-class clientele they need.’
‘Do you think maybe she thought we’d done a runner at the Chinese restaurant and got caught?’ said Melanie.
‘Maybe. I doubt whether she’ll recommend that place again in a hurry.’ And we started to laugh so hard again that the tears were running down our faces by the time we’d finished.
After that the mood lightened. We took our bruised and battered bodies downstairs to the restaurant and were finishing breakfast when Rajah appeared as arranged.
‘You take care of yourself today,’ I said to Melanie as I got up to go.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘That’s good. We’ll go back to London tomorrow, and I’ll treat you to a new outfit to make up for the one that got ruined yesterday.’
‘I can’t wait.’
‘Have fun then,’ and I leant over and kissed her before joining Rajah by the door.
It was still drizzling a little as we set off and I said, ‘Doesn’t it ever stop raining in this town?’
‘Not so’s you’d notice,’ he replied.
‘Someone tried to kill us last night,’ I said as we stopped at some lights.
Rajah looked over. ‘Really,’ he said.
‘Really.’
‘Not for the first time by the looks of it.’ He glanced over and smiled as he looked at my face. He’d never referred to it before. And the expression on his face pissed me off.
‘That was different,’ I said as calmly as possible. ‘At least they didn’t wait for a dark night down a back alley.’
‘Is that so? Down a back alley was it? People should be warned about back alleys. People don’t get into trouble in back alleys when I’m about.’
‘But you weren’t about, were you?’
‘Can’t be everywhere at once.’
‘That’s true.’
‘So tell me, what happened? Someone try to mug you for that flash watch of yours?’
‘No. Someone aimed a car at us.’
‘Dangerous places Manchester back alleys. Lots of drunks and junkies driving about. Could’ve been an accident.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘So what do you think?’
‘I think someone’s trying to warn me off.’
‘And?’
‘Bad decision. It makes me want to find Meena all the more. I’m funny like that. Especially when they involve my friends. I can look after myself but Melanie’s a different matter. She’s not involved. She’s off limits. Putting her in the frame doesn’t frighten me off, it just pisses me off. Got any ideas?’
‘About what?’
‘About where Meena is. About who’s trying to put the frighteners on me.’
‘No idea.’
‘Fair enough. But like I say if you should hear a whisper, let it be known it’s just made me all the more determined to finish the job.’
‘I’ll do that,’ he said.
38
The interview with Caroline Lees, Meena’s English friend, was different from the other two. The house she lived in was slightly smaller than the Asian houses we had visited the previous day, and semi-detached. There was an Audi convertible with the top up, on this year’s plate, parked in the drive.
Rajah and I walked up the garden path and he rang the bell. A stressed-out looking man answered after a moment, dressed in a denim shirt and cords. He was about my age but time had been less kind to his hair, which was retreating across his scalp at a rate of knots. ‘Rajah,’ he said.
‘Good morning, Mr Lees,’ said Rajah. ‘This is Mr Sharman who’s working for Mr Khan. Mr Sharman, Mr John Lees.’
‘Nick,’ I said with an outstretched hand and what I hoped was a friendly smile.
Lees didn’t reciprocate. ‘You’d better come in,’ he said.
Inside it wasn’t as neat and sterile as the Asian houses had been, and looked lived in and rather run down. Lees led us into the living room where the TV was showing a kids’ Saturday morning show with the sound turned low, and Rajah and I sat down.
‘I’ll get Caroline,’ said Lees. ‘She’s in her room. My wife’s out at the shops with my son,’ he explained rather unnecessarily I thought. He went to the foot of the stairs and shouted, ‘Caroline. Come down please.’
There was no answer. ‘She’s probably got her headphones on. I won’t be a moment,’ and he vanished upstairs.
We heard raised voices and a minute or two later John Lees reappeared followed by a tall blonde girl in a charcoal sweater and a short black skirt over dark tights. I imagined under normal circumstances she was extremely pretty, but that morning her mood was such that her face just exuded a sullen aspect which did nothing for her features.
‘This is my daughter, Caroline,’ he said. ‘Rajah, you know, and this is Mr Sharman who’s looking for Meena.’
Caroline Lees made no comment.
I stood at our introduction and held out my mitten. She ignored it. Like daughter, like father.
Good start.
‘Hello Caroline,’ I said. ‘My name’s Nick.’
If she could’ve looked less interested I’m sure she would, but I doubt if that would’ve been possible.
‘Would you like to sit down?’ I asked.
She shrugged, but took a straight-backed chair and stared at the TV screen as if nothing else in the world existed. John Lees noticed and snapped the set off with the remote. ‘I was watching that,’ she said.
‘You can watch it later,’ said John Lees.
‘I want to watch it now.’
‘Caroline,’ he said exasperatedly.
‘You were good friends with Meena, I believe,’ I said to break the tension in the room.
She shrugged again. So far she hadn’t spoken directly to me, but I was used to that from teenage girls with the hump at being disturbed on a Saturday morning. I’ve had it from Judith enough times.
‘Have you heard from her since she went away?’ I asked.
She looked at Rajah and her father and shook her head but I was sure she was lying.
‘I’m only trying to help,’ I said. ‘Her family misses her.’
She spoke for the first time then. ‘Is that right?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘And her family really love her, do they?’
‘As far as I know.’
‘Then you don’t know much.’
I was more than willing to concede that. ‘Like what?’
‘Like they threatened to kill her and Paul.’
‘Caroline,’ said John Lees again, but I saw a spark of fear in his eyes as he spoke.
‘Do you believe that?’ I asked.
She nodded.
‘So you have spoken to her?’
‘Maybe
.’
‘Caroline,’ John Lees interrupted. ‘If you know anything please tell Mr Sharman.’ But somehow I got the impression that was the last thing he wanted.
‘I’m not going to hurt her,’ I said.
‘You won’t have to, Sanjay and Deepak will do that for you.’
‘In fact I won’t let her be hurt.’
‘And how are you going to stop them?’
‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. You know what family arguments are like. Things are said in the heat of the moment.’
She laughed mirthlessly. ‘Is that what you think? Not in that kind of family.’
‘Caroline,’ said John Lees for the third time.
‘All right, Dad,’ she said ‘We know. Mr Khan puts the food on our table and the clothes on our backs. We mustn’t say anything bad about him, must we?’
‘He’s not going to hurt Meena or her boyfriend,’ he said.
‘You don’t know them. Not Sanjay and Deepak. They’ll do anything to get her back.’
‘But not murder, surely?’ I said.
‘Anything,’ she repeated. ‘So why don’t you just leave me alone?’
‘If you do speak to her,’ I said leaning closer, ‘tell her she can trust me. I won’t let any harm befall her, I promise. I’ve got a daughter roughly the same age as you and Meena, Caroline, and she’s the most precious thing in the world to me. I’d never let anyone hurt her and the same goes for Meena. All I want to do is to speak to her. After that it’s her choice what she does.’
‘Do you mean it?’ said Caroline Lees in a small voice as if we were the only two people in the room.
‘I promise.’ I knew she knew something, but I also knew she wasn’t going to divulge it with her father and Rajah there.
I took out another of my cards and wrote the name and phone number of the hotel on the back along with our room number. ‘If you hear anything or Meena gets in touch you can reach me in London on either of the numbers on the front. Or she can. I’m in Manchester till tomorrow at this hotel. Maybe you’ll remember something before I go.’
‘I doubt it,’ she said.