Hunter wanted to punch the air.
“That lift is on the fifth floor. Now all you’ve got to do is some old fashioned door-knocking and you should have your attack site.”
Hunter studied Barry. A pneumatic drill couldn’t remove that sickly contented smirk on his face he thought. He was so pleased for him and so glad he had brought him onto the team.
“Ever thought about being a detective Barry?” said Hunter straight-faced, launching himself out of his seat.
The civilian investigator scrutinised him for a second then said “Detective Sergeant Kerr if I didn’t know you better I would say you’re jealous because an old hand has beaten you to the end-game.”
They both flashed a grin to one another.
“One up to you Barry,” returned Hunter wetting a finger and striking it in the air. “Well done you old fart.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment shall I. By the way I will accept payment with several pints of John Smiths amber nectar,” he finished, switching the TV off.
* * * * *
“Let me have a go at Jilani,” begged Grace after briefing.
Detective Superintendent Michael Robshaw had determined that now they had the CCTV evidence damming Ari there was no rush to re-interview him and that the team should focus on Samia’s parents since no one had spoken with them following their re-arrest the previous afternoon.
He had allocated that task to Hunter and Grace whilst sending the remainder of the team across to Sheffield to find Ari and Pervez’s place especially given that Barry had narrowed down the flat complex location and the floor level.
Hunter looked up from the notes he had scribbled.
“Let me try the empathy approach – Mother and daughter thing again. It might work this time coming from me. I can guess she’s been subservient to Mohammed for years and even afraid of him, but I can’t believe deep down that she is involved in all this. My gut instinct is she’s just keeping silent because she’s more afraid of her husband than she is of us.”
Hunter stroked his chin and mused over her comments.
“Okay let’s go for it.” He clicked the top back on his pen and slid the folder of evidence across the desk. “She’s all yours.”
* * * * *
Jilani looked haggard. Her dark hair was unkempt, her red and gold sari crumpled and black streaks stained her cheeks from her crying.
Grace could see Jilani had suffered a sleepless night and guessed that she would be jaded and feeling vulnerable. That all stacked in her favour for this interview.
An interpreter and her solicitor were present.
Hunter started the tape recording machine.
“Jilani I want to make things easy for you. Yesterday we interviewed your nephews Ari and Pervez and one of them has admitted being involved in the abduction of your daughter Samia.” Grace concentrated on Jilani’s face, watching her reactions as the interpreter repeated her opening lines in Urdu.
“He has also implicated your husband Mohammed in this, actually saying that your husband forced them to carry out the abduction under threat of violence.” Grace deliberately held back the sighting by Doctor Woolfe which negated this story so that they could hopefully stack up the evidence against Ari and Pervez.
There was a flicker in the woman’s eyes and a quick shake of the head.
“Mrs Hassan I don’t want to prolong this agony for you because what happened to your daughter was horrendous. But we have a duty to investigate this thoroughly and if we find you are involved in her murder then you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Jilani nodded even before the interpreter finished and Grace realised for the first time that the woman had a better understanding of English than she had initially made out. That was a good thing. It would be easier now for her to look for the signs in her facial expressions and body language.
“I’m going to show you some film footage now that was captured by CCTV cameras about two months ago at Meadowhall. I must warn you it is disturbing but I want you to concentrate on it.”
Hunter got up, switched on the small TV, and started the DVD rolling. It re-ran the same footage they had shown to Ari Arshad the previous day.
As it ran Grace never took her eyes off Jilani. Five minutes had gone by when the woman dropped her head onto her chest and started weeping. Grace knew at that point that the tape had just ended without seeing it happen. “I’m sorry you had to sit through that Mrs Hassan but I needed to show you just how your daughter started her suffering. I also have to tell you that we now believe she was held for five days before she was finally killed and during that time she was violently raped.”
Her anguish increased to a sob.
“I can tell you that we now have enough evidence to take this to court and prosecute for murder. Ari has implicated your husband in your daughter’s murder and your prolonged silence in all this is not going to help you. If you continue to refuse to talk then we will suspect you are involved in this and you will also go to court.”
Jilani looked up into Grace’s eyes. Black runny kohl eyeliner scarred her cheeks.
“Mrs Hassan I am a Mother of two daughters and if I thought my husband had been involved in their deaths I would move heaven and earth to see him punished. As a mother yourself I do not believe for one second you would want anything different. Am I right?”
With glazed over eyes she nodded. Then she began to speak in Urdu. After about twenty seconds she stopped. “I never realised that they had done that to my Samia,” she delivered in broken but understandable English.
Grace reached across and took hold of Jilani’s hands and fixed her a sympathetic look. “Mrs Hassan do you want to tell us what you know?”
She hung her head and dropped her gaze to the table. “I never wanted Samia harmed. I went along with my husband and told her I would disown her after what she had done with that young doctor. She knew our values and she just went against them but I never wished any harm against her. It was Mohammed he wouldn’t let it go. He arranged for her to marry a cousin of his back in Pakistan. He said it would be the best thing for her, but she flung it back in his face. Then he discovered she was planning to run away and he got even angrier.”
“What did he do?” Grace still held Jilani’s hands.
“I knew he was arranging things with Ari but I didn’t know what he intended. I know Ari and Pervez are not good people – that they have been in trouble, but I do not know what for. I pleaded with Mohammed to let things be, just disown her as our daughter, but he wanted to punish her he said for bringing dishonour to him.” She lifted her head and broke into a fresh sobbing fit.
Grace let her hands go and fished a paper handkerchief from her jacket pocket and handed it over.
Jilani dried her eyes. The kohl smudged further.
“Please go on Mrs Hassan.”
“I never knew it was going to go this far. Mohammed told me Ari and Pervez were going to force her to go to Pakistan and everything would be sorted. When you came to the shop and I heard you say you were investigating her murder I was shocked. It was only then that I realised what Mohammed had done to Samia. Believe me I did not know this. What you have shown me on the TV, the thing that has happened to Samia – it is evil.”
“Are you willing to give a statement?”
Jilani wiped her eyes again. Then she nodded.
For evidential purposes the first statement was written in English followed by a second in Urdu, by the interpreter. The evidence against Ari and Pervez Arshad and also Mohammed Hassan was damming and Hunter couldn’t wait for that evening’s briefing. He was also eager to get back into the incident room to find out if the flat had been located.
Hunter followed Grace out into the custody suite corridor closing the interview room door behind him. He could hear Jilani Hassan’s cries of pain. He turned to meet Grace and with sparkling eyes gave her a ‘you did it’ look and then pulled her head forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“You little beaut,” he said before strolling away back to the incident room.
* * * * *
Sheffield:
Hunter and Grace rode the clanking lift to the fifth floor; they were looking for flat 508.
An hour earlier they had returned to an empty incident room and learned from Isabel Stevens, the HOLMES supervisor that the whole team were over in Sheffield – the Arshad’s flat had been found and they were doing house-to-house enquiries. Upon hearing this they had immediately exchanged excited looks and decided they wanted to be in on the action.
Pervez and Mohammed could sweat in the cells a little bit longer, Hunter had determined as he scooped up a set of car keys.
They had lodged the statements made by Jilani Hassan with Isobel. Then with Hunter aggressively worming and forcing his way through heavy traffic, had quickly journeyed to the Parkhill Flats complex.
The instant the metal doors screeched open Hunter was greeted by a strong smell of pine disinfectant and he could hear lots of activity somewhere out along the corridor.
As he stepped out of the lift he immediately recognised the location from the CCTV footage he had seen earlier that morning. He glanced up at the ceiling at the small black domed fitment, which held the camera, and wondered how on earth the pair had been so stupid. He pointed it out to Grace and then made his way to number 508.
Blue and white police crime scene tape was draped across the dim corridor and a uniformed officer barred their way. Hunter ducked under the tape flashing his warrant card before slotting it into the top pocket of his jacket leaving the shiny silver and blue South Yorkshire Police crest showing.
The door to flat 508 was ajar and he rapped loudly on the boxwood panel and pushed it gently. It opened into a small shadowy corridor but a warm light coming from the partially open door at the other end greeted them. He and Grace stepped through and Hunter pushed open the second door, which from its furnishings Hunter clocked was the lounge. Duncan Wroe was the first person he spotted, crouching on his haunches carrying out a careful examination of the carpet. Two other protectively clothed females were in the room working on the spraying and swabbing of a wall opposite. A bare bulb in the centre of the ceiling gave off the only light. Heavy draped curtains covered one wall and were thick enough to keep out most of the daylight. They hadn’t been pulled back.
The room was sparsely furnished with a flimsy two-seater sofa and a single armchair of cheap quality and yet fastened at chest height on a wall above the fireplace was a huge plasma flat screen TV.
“They’ve obviously got their priorities right,” Hunter said wryly, glancing at Grace and pointing at the TV.
Duncan looked over his shoulder. “I wondered how long it would be before you two arrived,” he said and returned to his task.
“You know us, Duncan can’t keep our noses out,” Hunter quipped. “Anyway I thought you’d have finished with the scene by now. Are you holding out for overtime?”
“Very funny Hunter, very funny,” he riposted without turning around.
“Seriously Duncan, is this the place where Samia was killed?”
“Oh this is it all right.” Supporting his knees with his hands, he slowly eased himself up.
“I’m getting too old for this, roll on my pension.” He sauntered towards the far wall where the white suited women were working. “Attempts have been made to clean down the walls but we’re already picking up blood spatter patterns low down close to the skirting.”
“Blood spatter?”
“Yes a spouting or squirting effect when a blow has been delivered - but by the looks of this lot I would say this is from a cut – a slashing effect. Didn’t she have her throat cut if I remember rightly?”
Grace nodded.
“And there is also a pooling effect soaked into the carpet down to the floorboards.” He lifted an edge of cheap nylon carpet to reveal a dark stain ingrained in the lightwood flooring beneath. “She’d obviously lost a substantial amount of blood.”
He moved back into the centre of the room. “Finally I have this for you. Switch off the light behind you.”
Hunter reached behind him and pitched the room into semi darkness. Just a little daylight poked between the gaps in the heavy drapes.
“Remember when I showed you how fibres could be lit up by a light source when I examined the white Renault.”
Hunter and Grace nodded.
“As you know fragments of fibres are transferred when they come into contact with another surface and as I mentioned different fibres can give off different wavelengths which can be picked up by fluorescent lights. I already told you that we had the wavelengths of the fibres from the Asian rug because of its unique make-up.”
Hunter acknowledged again with a nod.
“Well this is what I’ve found.”
Duncan switched on a low voltage, hand-held fluorescent light and began scanning the carpet. As if by magic a line of bright blue fibres became distinguishable from the remainder of the room carpet. As he swept an area an oblong outline began to appear over the surface. “What would you say if I told you the perimeter of this is the exact same size as the rug Samia’s body was found in. In other words she was wrapped up in the rug, which once fitted in this exact spot.”
“You’re a genius Duncan.”
“Science actually Hunter but I will accept that accolade.” He turned off the lamp plunging them back into semi-darkness.
Hunter switched the room light back on.
“Another four or five hours and I’ll have this room telling me what exactly went on but at least for now I’ve given you something which will help hold them in custody.”
Hunter and Grace thanked him and made their way back to the car.
* * * * *
Barnwell:
It was just after four pm when they got back. Other members of MIT were still out on enquiries and Hunter had gathered from Isobel that she expected them all back within the hour. They had gathered enough statements and material evidence to place Ari and Pervez in flat 508.
Armed with this information Hunter and Grace made their way back to the custody suite to re-interview Pervez.
Pervez was already waiting in the sticky warm soundproof interview room with his solicitor. He didn’t have that air of cockiness like his brother yet nevertheless he fixed them with a penetrating glare.
As they sat down Pervez folded his arms in defensive posture and met them with a smug grin.
Hunter liked nothing more than a challenge.
Grace switched on the tape recording machine and turned around to switch on the TV/DVD player.
“Mr Arshad during your last interview you chose to make no comment throughout and as you know that is your prerogative. However it is only fair to tell you that since that last interview things have moved on considerably. We have interviewed your brother Ari and I have to tell you that he has implicated you in the abduction of Samia. We have a statement from a witness placing you at the scene where Samia’s body was dumped and I must also tell you that Jilani Hassan, Samia’s mother and your aunt has also made a statement implicating you and Ari.”
Suddenly his eyes were restless. He searched out his solicitor who had his head down making legal notes. He returned his gaze back across the table.
“You’re bullshitting.”
“Mr Arshad would I be telling you this in the presence of your solicitor and on tape if it wasn’t true?”
Hunter watched him roll his eyes up towards the ceiling.
Pervez unfolded his arms and wiped the palms of his hands down the thighs of his trousers.
“Now I know you have been shown the CCTV evidence of you following Samia in Meadowhall and then your involvement in her attack down in the car park and that you chose not to respond when that evidence was presented, well now I want to show you some more footage we have recently acquired, which you might find interesting.”
Grace switched on the DVD player and started to play the footage, which Barry had shown
to the team that morning.
Hunter watched the sweat trickle down the sides of Pervez’s forehead. He brushed away the trickles before they rolled onto his neck.
Hunter heard Grace switch off the machine. He leant across the table and locked together his fingers. “We have now found yours and Ari’s flat. As we speak forensics are going through the house with a fine tooth comb. We already know this was where Samia was held and where she was killed and you have seen from that CCTV footage that we now have you on camera taking out her body to dump in the lake. Now as I say you have every right not to say anything, but I hope your brother will be as loyal when he sees this.”
Hunter watched Pervez’s face change. He was rigid with fear.
“Ari raped and killed Samia,” he barked out. “I thought we were only going to kidnap Samia and force her to go to Pakistan. That’s what Ari told me. He said Uncle Mohammed wanted to teach his daughter a lesson because she had brought shame on the family and that we were to take her to our place and hold her there.”
“Is that what happened then after you put her in the back of the van at Meadowhall?”
He nodded feverishly. “Yes, yes. We took her back to our flat and Ari tied her up in the bedroom. He phoned Uncle Mohammed and told him we had her and asked us what he wanted to do with her.”
“What did your uncle say?”
“I don’t know. Ari was always the one who talked to Uncle Mohammed, though he did come to the flat the next day and started hitting Samia. Swearing at her and saying she had brought dishonour to him and she didn’t deserve to live.”
“Is that when she was killed?”
“No, no, he busted her mouth and nose and I cleaned her up with a towel from the bathroom. She was still alive. She begged me to let her go and then Ari came into the bedroom and dragged me away. Uncle Mohammed left and I could hear him and Ari talking in the hallway.”
Cold Death (D.S.Hunter Kerr) Page 24