by Mistry, Liz
Mumbling something in Polish under his breath, Jankowski smiled at Alice. ‘Mostly he’s an idiot but, occasionally he’s an excellent detective and so I give him the benefit of the doubt. He thinks Nancy and I are wrong about this being the work of The Matchmaker and so he won’t invest his time.’ He shrugged. ‘We are not wrong so I will invest my time.’ He tilted his head towards Jamal who had entered the interview room. ‘The attack on this young boy demonstrates that he must be in possession of some very important information.’ His lips tightened. ‘And this time The Matchmaker will not get away.’
Alice ushered him into the observation suite with its hard chairs and listening equipment and grimaced at the stale air resulting from too many sweaty bodies, unemptied bins filled with discarded food scraps and the gritty, almost tangible stench of coffee grounds. She reached over, lifted the bin and placed it in the corridor. Then extracting a lavender room spray from her handbag, she sprayed it round the room. ‘No point in sitting in a stink, is there?’ she said looking slightly embarrassed.
Jankowski grinned and settled down, arms folded over his skinny chest. Looking through the one-way mirror, he studied Jamal and his older brother.
‘I hope Jamal can tell us something.’ said Alice. ‘But remember, the first part of the interview will be about his mum’s murder, not the abducted children or the attack outside his brother’s house.’
Jankowski nodded, his eyes boring through the mirror as if sheer will power alone could get him the information he desired.
Chapter 30
Monday 3:35pm
The streetlights clicked on just before the first drops of rain began to fall, turning the pavements into treacherous slides for the unwary pedestrian. Gus had just nipped into the major incidents room for some painkillers before interviewing Jamal. Against his better instincts, he glanced over and saw a light in his sister’s flat. He sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his tight dreads. He knew that later, when he found the time to analyse his emotions, he’d feel angrier by his sister’s betrayal than by his wife’s defection, and that in itself concerned him.
He heard a throat being cleared in the exaggerated manner of someone wanting to gain your attention, without being so crass as to intrude in your thoughts. Lifting the coffee mug to his lips, Gus swigged back his pills, grimacing as cold, bitter coffee flooded his mouth. Turning around, he rested his aching thigh on the low window sill. ‘Hi, Compo, you ok?’
Compo bit his lip and moved his weight nervously from one leg to the other. His eyes darted around the room checking that they were alone. ‘I just wanted to say, I’m sorry I embarrassed you earlier.’
‘Embarrassed me?’
Wringing his fingers, Compo clarified. ‘With the visiting detectives, you know?’
Realisation dawned. ‘Oh, do you mean that smarmy git Wentworth and his stupid comments about bacon smells?’
Compo flushed. ‘And BO, sir. He said I stank!’
Taking two steps towards him, Gus flung his arm round the shorter man’s shoulder. ‘The man’s a pillock, ok? You’ve been on the job in this office in front of a damn computer screen for twenty-four hours and that’s what the arse focusses on?’ He gently shook Compo. ‘It was you working through the night that got those kids matched to their families quickly. That’s the important thing.’ He paused, catching Compo’s eye. ‘Now, you’ve done your job. Go home; get some sleep and tomorrow the bacon butties are on me.’
Smiling lopsidedly, Compo raised one nail bitten finger. ‘Just got one little girl to match, sir, then I’ll go.’ He turned away and then turning back his normally cheery face dark with tension he said, his voice so low Gus had to strain to hear him, ‘I tried to grab an hour last night but every time I closed my eyes, those little faces kept swimming in front of me.’ He wiped his sleeve over his eyes briefly. ‘Does it get any better, sir?’
Gus squeezed his arm. ‘You know what? It might take a while but what will help is the fact that you’ve done your bit to help those kids. It’s the only thing to cling to.’ He released Compo’s arm and lowered his own voice. ‘And believe me, I know. I still relive that thing with Greg. Every damn night I wake up and they’re all dead and I’m still alive.’ His mouth tightened briefly. ‘But now I’m back at work …and life goes on.’ He knew it was crap, but if he said it often enough, who knew, one day it might be true.
Sounds from behind made him spin round. DC Sadia Hussain stood in the doorway. Gus raised an eyebrow at Compo in a ‘how long has she been there gesture?’ In return Compo pursed his lips and shrugged.
‘Em, excuse me, DI McGuire, but DS Cooper asked me to tell you they’re waiting for you in Interview Room Two.’
Gus studied her tall slender frame and perfect complexion for a second, before moving past her and through the door. This was the new DC. The one Alice didn’t rate very highly. He smiled. Alice was a stickler for being a team player and this Sadia had got off on the wrong foot with her. He suspected more sparks would fly between the two before long. Two steps further down the corridor and he turned to face her with a frown. ‘Was it you who witnessed the attack on Jamal Asif?’
She nodded briefly. His blue eyes bored into her face until she flushed. ‘Are you ok?’
Again, she nodded, but remained silent.
‘Anything worth knowing before I go into the interview?’
Her eyes flicked up and to the left as she thought about his question, then she reluctantly shook her head. ‘No, sir. We were parked too far back to see the attack clearly.’ She grimaced. ‘Should’ve checked the bloody parked cars before we went in, though.’
Gus shook his head. ‘Don’t be silly. That’s guilt talking. You’d no reason to check the parked cars. I wouldn’t have thought to check them either on a routine call. Let it go and move on, ok?’
Her mouth drooped sulkily and his eyes narrowed. She’d need to lighten up a bit and take advice if she was going to fit into his team. ‘I mean it. Forget it and move on. You’re no good to anyone brooding about mistakes anyone could’ve made. Don’t be such a bloody diva.’
The sulkiness left her face to be replaced by outrage. Satisfied that he had provoked a reaction, Gus nodded briefly and as he left the room, he heard Compo say. ‘He’s right, you know, you can’t dwell on the little parts of the picture when there’s a whole painting to finish.’
She snorted. ‘Who the fuck are you, anyway? Leonardo Da Vinci?’
Then, just as the door was about to close behind him he heard Compo’s quiet response. ‘Well, you’re definitely no Mona Lisa.’
Laughing, he headed along the corridor. Good for Compo, sticking up for himself with Hussain. God, was he glad to be back at work!
Chapter 31
Monday 3:35pm
The tall man pacing the small square that constituted the largest interview room in The Fort paused when Gus and Alice entered. Painted nondescript beige and lacking character it did nothing to calm a nervous interviewee, but then, on the whole, the design was functional, with the purpose of aiding the extraction of confessions from villains.
Jamal was slumped in the plastic chair. With his legs sprawled under the table, he barely glanced at them, but the tall man extended his hand and introduced himself. ‘I’m Jamal’s brother, Ishaq Asif.’
Gus took the slightly sweaty hand and shook firmly. He gestured to an uncomfortable-looking red plastic chair next to the younger boy. ‘Sit down, Mr Asif. I’m DI McGuire and this is DC Cooper.’ Alice held out her hand. The man looked at it for a second before pointedly ignoring it. He pulled out the chair and sat down next to his brother.
Gus winked at Alice. They were used to sexist arseholes and Gus knew Alice would be fuming about the handshake slight. He also knew that she wouldn’t let it affect her dealings with the man. Moving his chair away from the table to allow him leg room, he sat down and waited till Alice had pulled her chair right up to the table and rested her elbows on top.
‘I’m very angry about the at
tack on your brother, too,’ said Gus. ‘I’ve been informed that the hospital checked you over and, apart from mild shock, you are both ok. Is that right?’
The older man nodded sternly.
‘We’re conducting this interview in two parts, Mr Asif, and because we think the shooting is related to the second part of the interview, we’ll discuss that then, ok?’
Ishaq Asif looked puzzled, ‘What do you mean the ‘second part’. Surely it’s all related to that whore. It was probably some supplier wanting paid that shot us.’
Gus blinked, momentarily thrown by Ishaq’s words, then said, ‘That’s what we need to determine, so shall we crack on?’ Leaning over, he pressed the recording equipment and asked each person present to state their name for the record. Then he sat back, arms crossed and waited as Alice flicked through the folder she’d brought in with her.
Ishaq Asif glanced at Gus, who met his gaze but remained silent. Frowning, Asif tapped his fingers on the table. Ignoring him, Gus focussed on Jamal, who stared at the wall above Gus’s head. Jamal’s eyes were red-rimmed, and his nose looked raw as if he’d rubbed it too hard with a coarse tissue. Gus wondered if his slumped posture indicated defeat, grief or shock or, indeed, a mix of the three.
‘How long are you going to keep us here?’ said Ishaq in a strident voice. ‘We’ve already been waiting for an hour and, now you’re here, you’re not even speaking to us.’
Gus bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from intervening and watched as Alice smiled, laid the folder on the table and carefully positioned it before she said, ‘I was just refreshing my memory before I got started, Mr Asif. We’ll not keep you any longer than is necessary.’
Mr Asif looked at Gus. ‘Aren’t you doing the interview?’
Shaking his head in a flurry of dreadlocks, Gus smiled. ‘No, Mr Asif, DS Cooper’s my best interviewer and so she’ll be leading on this.’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘No objections, I hope?’
The other man looked as if he’d like to complain but, finally shaking his head, he clasped his fingers on the tabletop and waited, the lines on his face expressing every ounce of frustrated anger he felt.
Jamal, with what appeared to be a huge effort pulled himself up and leaned heavily on the table, his eyes meeting Alice’s. ‘Where are the kids? My brother and sisters, are they ok? Can I see them?’
Patting his arm gently, Alice said, ‘Your brother is in BRI at the moment. His nappy rash was severely infected, but he’s on antibiotics and will soon be released into the care of a foster parent. Rehana and Maryham are fine. They’re with a foster carer but you’ll be able to see them later, ok?’
Rubbing his sleeve across his face to soak up the few tears that rolled down his cheek, Jamal nodded and slumped back in his chair.
Ignoring Ishaq, Alice looked directly at the younger boy when she spoke. ‘Jamal, you know your mother was found murdered on Sunday morning?’
She waited but got no response. ‘Jamal?’ she said firmly. He looked up and nodded.
‘You’ve got to speak for the tape, Jamal.’
Reluctantly, Jamal spoke. ‘Yeah, I know. Good fucking riddance to her.’
Jumping to his feet, his voice sharp, Ishaq said, ‘Jamal!’ He looked at the police officers. ‘He doesn’t mean that. He’s just upset. Despite her obvious flaws, she was still his mother.’ Turning to Jamal, he said something in their mother tongue.
Jamal cowered slightly in his chair.
Gus looked from one brother to the other, fleetingly wondering just how scared Jamal was of his brother and wishing he’d got a translator in. What had Ishaq said to Jamal to provoke that reaction? After all, Ishaq Asif was much older than Jamal. However, on balance, Gus felt that Asif was just being over-protective and it was only a few hours since they’d both been shot at. They had the right to be a bit twitchy and on edge. In a firm tone, he said, ‘Sit down, Mr Asif. You are here as an appropriate adult because Jamal is only fourteen, but you mustn’t interrupt the interview unless you feel your brother is becoming unnecessarily upset, ok?’
Ishaq’s mouth flattened into a thin line and he slowly sat down. ‘Yes, ok, fine.’
Looking at Jamal, Alice continued. ‘How did you know your mother was dead, Jamal? Who told you?’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno’
Alice smiled. ‘Was it one of your neighbours?’
With a sideways glance at his brother, he said, ‘Yeah, suppose so.’
‘Which one?’
‘Dunno.’
‘The reason I ask is that none of the neighbours have seen you since Saturday afternoon. I’m wondering how one of them could’ve told you about your mum if they’ve not seen you since her death.’
He sniffed. ‘Overheard some of them talking in One Stop.’ The One Stop shop was a focal point of the small village and was frequented regularly by most of the locals. The owner and the shop workers had been interviewed twice already, the last time being only that morning.
Alice raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, when was that? Because the One Stop manager doesn’t remember seeing you or your mum in there since Saturday tea time.’
Ishaq frowned. ‘You said Mrs Khalifa told you, Jamal.’
Scowling, Jamal fidgeted on his chair, eyes drifting round the room as though seeking a means of escape.
‘We need to know who told you about your mum, Jamal.’ Alice said, keeping her tone calm.
Sighing loudly, Ishaq nudged his brother. ‘Come on, Jamal answer the question, for goodness sake.’
Tears welled up in Jamal’s eyes and when he spoke it was too quiet for the recorder to pick up. ‘I found her.’
Biting her lip, Alice said, ‘Sorry, Jamal, I’m going to have to ask you to repeat that for the tape.’
His head jerked up. His cheeks a swollen ruddy mess as he rubbed furiously at them with a rapidly disintegrating tissue. ‘I found her!’
‘When did you find her, Jamal?’
Gus felt sorry for the lad. He knew the sort of life Jamal must have had to date. A drunken mother, no money, no food and now she was dead and his siblings were in care. He handed him a clean tissue. Jamal wiped his face dry and blew his nose. ‘Saturday night. Don’t know when, about seven, I suppose, before the snow got heavy. She’d left the kids home alone again. I’d told her off about that but she did it all the time. She didn’t care about them. All she cared about was getting drunk or high.’
Ishaq glowered at Jamal. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have come to you. I’d have taken care of the kids. You know that. You should have phoned the police straight away.’
Gus cleared his throat and caught Ishaq’s eye, silently warning the other man not to intervene. Throwing his arms in the air in disgust Ishaq tutted loudly as Alice continued.
‘How did you come to find her Jamal?’
‘I was in the Chinky’s getting chips and I saw her pass by coming from the King’s Arms. She was staggering so I knew she’d had a drink. I finished my chips inside the Chinky’s, then I saw one of them alkies that hang around the church staggering up the road after her and I knew she was going to the graveyard.’ His face flushed and his fingers clenched on top of the table. ‘That’s where she always took them for a shag.’ Alice pushed a cup of water towards him. He took a drink and then placed the plastic cup back on the table.
‘You’re doing really well, Jamal.’
‘I was angry. She was always leaving the kids. It’s not right. They’re too little and I knew she’d spend her shag money on booze, not on chips for the kids so I decided to go round to Quarry Street and wait till she’d got paid and make her give me some money for the kids’ tea.’ He looked round at the three faces round the table. ‘So, I waited at the corner of Quarry Street, near Spicy Delight, for fifteen minutes and when she hadn’t come back I headed round to the graveyard. The snow had got quite thick by then and when I got there I didn’t see her at first and then I looked down and she was there lying near that big broken gravestone, her head was mashed in and s
he was dead. I could see she was dead.’
He laid his arms on the table and, resting his head on top, allowed great sobs to rattle his bones and wrack his skinny body. Ishaq got up and kneeled beside Jamal with his arms round his half-brother’s shoulders. ‘Oh beta, you should have told us. You should have told us.’
Gus raised an eyebrow at Alice, indicating she should allow Ishaq to calm Jamal before she continued. Observing them, Gus could clearly see the love and care that flowed between the two brothers. He could almost forgive Ishaq his earlier sexism on that basis alone – almost, but not quite.
When Jamal was calm, Alice said, ‘I need to ask you a few more questions. Are you able to continue?’
Eyes glazed with worry, Ishaq frowned at her. ‘Can’t you give him some time? You can see he’s upset.’
Alice met his gaze calmly. ‘I have a murderer on the loose and someone just this morning tried to shoot you and your brother. I don’t have the luxury of time. If Jamal could continue, it would be helpful.’
Jamal shrugged his brother’s arm off his shoulders and straightened in his chair. ‘It’s ok, Ishaq. I’m ok. I’d rather get it over and done with.’
Alice smiled. ‘Good boy, Jamal. This is really brave of you and we appreciate it.’
Taking another sip of water, Jamal looked expectantly at Alice.
‘Did you see anyone when you walked round to the graveyard?’
He shook his head and then belatedly glanced at the recorder and added, ‘No.’