by Rashad Salim
Chris’ attacker was about to swing the knife at Tom but Atif swung his backpack and hit the attacker in the face with it hard enough to rock him backwards. The attacker fell on his ass but didn’t let go of the knife.
One of the other armed men rushed forward and grabbed Chris’ attacker from behind and tugged him away. “Let’s fucking go!”
Tom looked down at Chris.
Chris lay on the ground face down while blood poured out of his body. Tom crouched down and rolled Chris around until he was facing up.
Tom heard the sound of car doors slamming shut and looked up in time to see the armed men speed away in a black BMW. Atif had run closer to the car to get a better look.
Tom saw Atif was trembling and wondered for a second if he himself had the same look of fear and panic in his own eyes.
“Sir...”
Chris was unconscious.
“Is he...?”
Tom gripped Chris’ hand and felt his eyes well up.
There was no pulse.
2
When the ambulance arrived and took Chris away, they told Tom it was very likely his friend died instantly from the single stab wound he suffered.
Atif had been the one to call 999 and the police had arrived quicker than Tom had expected. The first officers at the crime scene sealed off the area and questioned whatever witnesses they could find.
The attack had occurred around 5:15pm and it being dark so early made visibility difficult. Some of the other boys and girls who were making their way out of the sixth form had witnessed the murder only at a distance and even then there had been confusion as to what was going on, the lack of daylight being a factor to this.
There hadn’t been any pedestrians on either side of the road at the time of the attack either. That meant the only proper witnesses to the murder were Tom and Atif, who had been victims of the attack themselves and too shaken to make sense of what was happening.
Most of the teachers at the school had already left but fortunately the Deputy Headmaster Mr Blake – a thin, bald man in his forties – was still present and dealt with the police when they had arrived.
Tom and Atif sat inside the sixth form reception area with Blake while they waited to hear from the police again. Tom asked Blake about the CCTV cameras near the car park entrance. Blake told him the footage would be submitted to the police as soon as possible. Tom hoped the cameras had captured the attackers without their disguises but thought it was unlikely.
There was something else that had made him lose heart. Atif had spotted the getaway car’s number plate. It had been covered with black tape. So there was no way of getting a vehicle match from the plates.
A detective from Binford Police Station, DS Barker, finally showed up half an hour after the emergency response units. Barker was led by Mr Blake inside the sixth form to where Tom sat in a classroom, accompanied by a police officer.
When DS Barker walked in through the door Tom gave him a good look once over. The detective was a little shorter than Tom but quite a few years older, in his early thirties. Tom wondered what kind of a man he was and how capable he might be.
Barker walked over and introduced himself to Tom and Atif.
Tom and Atif were to be questioned separately in another classroom.
Atif was first. When Atif was done he emerged from the classroom and gave Tom a nod before walking out of the reception area. His parents were waiting for him outside.
Tom walked into the classroom and sat down at a table with Barker at the opposite end.
“You were lucky he was there,” Barker said.
Tom looked at him and realised the police officer knew Atif had defended him. He felt a sense of shame about that. That the boy had ended up defending him instead of the other way around.
“Can you tell me what happened? From the beginning?”
Tom told him everything from the moment he had left the classroom to when he realised Chris was dead.
Barker scribbled everything down in his notebook.
“He died because of me,” Tom whispered and stared at the table top.
“Excuse me?”
“My glasses,” Tom said.
“Ah.”
Tom had told Barker about Chris chasing after him.
“If I hadn’t forgotten them he’d still be alive.”
“Don’t blame yourself. None of this was your fault.”
“I don’t understand,” Tom said. “Why us? We never did anything to anyone.” He felt like he was about to cry again and fought the urge.
“Well, I was going to ask you about that.” He leaned closer to Tom. “I need to know if you have any suspicions about who your attackers were.”
“I don’t really know much about the bad crowd around here, if that’s what you’re asking me.”
Barker nodded. “Yes, you’re still relatively new around here, aren’t you? But no I don’t mean in a general sense. I meant if you knew any individuals who would want to do you harm.”
Tom gawped. “What? I... no.” He fumbled the words. “I can’t imagine who. I mean I haven’t even been around long enough for that, have I?”
“I dunno, Tom. You tell me.”
Tom thought hard about the question. “I could have a think about it.” He racked his mind trying to come up with a possible suspect.
Barker gave him a wary look. “You do that, Tom. And get back to me. In fact, I’ll be back tomorrow lunchtime to see Atif Hussain. You can fill me in then, okay?”
Tom nodded.
Barker stood up and tucked his notebook into his inside coat pocket.
“In the mean time I’d be careful who I spoke to about what happened here. This is going to be a big investigation and we’re going to need your full co-operation. Everyone’s going to ask you about this and you’re not going to tell them anything. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then.”
Barker walked out of the classroom and Tom followed him out into the reception area where Mr Blake was waiting for them.
Barker told Blake he’d be in touch before leaving the building.
Blake turned to Tom. “How did it go?”
Tom ignored the question. “What happens now?”
“Go home, Tom. Get some rest.” Blake opened the front door and gestured for Tom to walk out. “We’ll deal with this from here.”
Tom walked out and was met with two uniformed police officers – the same ones who were first on the scene and first to question him. They were to escort him home.
He was still shaken by the attack and didn’t feel much safer in the backseat of the police car. He felt as if his attackers would return the second the police officers left him.
Sitting in the backseat and staring out the window he racked his mind again trying to answer DS Barker’s question.
Who wanted him dead?
3
Tom had the whole night to think about everyone who could’ve possibly had a grudge against him. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. The notion of it all made him question everything.
Chris had been murdered by a killing blow meant for him.
Or had it been for Atif?
The thought had been on his mind all night long. Had the attackers been there for Atif while he and Chris had been innocent bystanders?
The question begged more questions: if he and Chris had been innocent bystanders, what did that make Atif?
Tom had mulled it over all night. He wondered if Atif had rubbed someone the wrong way and had revenge coming his way all along. And if that was the case, what had been Atif’s crime? Tom had to do everything to find out.
He thought about his conversation with DS Barker and how the lawman had asked him to think hard about who would want to do him harm and he had a strong feeling Atif had been asked the same question.
He had to get the names of Atif’s suspects. No doubt, Atif would pass whatever names he had come up with to DS Barker but Tom had to know for himself. He ha
d a right to know. He had stared death in the face to earn that right and he wouldn’t be denied now.
As for himself, he had come up with a list of names by the time he had to go back out there to the school and see the aftermath of the murder.
When he had first sat down to write the list he was still dumbfounded by the whole idea of someone trying to assassinate him. But the more he had thought about it and the idea of revenge, things started to become much clearer. And much scarier when the list became longer than he had anticipated.
He checked his phone before he left his flat in the morning. There hadn’t been any unread messages from before the murder occurred – only afterwards, fellow teachers leaving text messages and voicemails of sympathy.
When the police officers dropped him off to his home, he had assumed he would immediately phone Kate and tell her what had happened. He thought he would pour his heart out and let his guilt and grief loose by sharing the horror of what had happened. But much to his surprise he felt numb about it all and not even considering talking to anyone about it.
He knew by the time he reached the school and sixth form he would be inundated by more messages from other staff members since news of what had happened had spread all over the school and sixth form. But he took it in his stride and when he walked into the sixth form, he went straight up to his office like it was just another ordinary day at work.
Not all the teachers had their own offices. Unlike some of the teachers, Tom had no form class to be stuck with, taking registration duties twice a day and dealing with a fixed set of students. For that he had been relieved. His office was located in the sixth form section and he shared it with another teacher, Nadeem Parvez, a Pakistani IT teacher in his late forties.
Tom entered his office and saw Nadeem already sitting at his desk.
Nadeem looked up at him and stood. “Ah, Tom.” He walked around and greeted Tom with a hug.
The gesture made Tom feel awkward, under the circumstances. But he had actually become used to being hugged by Nadeem over the five months he had known him.
Nadeem had made it a habit of hugging Tom on a number of occasions, explaining in jest that being a Pakistani, it was common in his culture to greet other men this way. Now it was a solemn greeting.
Nadeem let him go. “How are you, young man? I just learned about Chris.”
“I’m fine, thank god. I’m just so sorry about Chris.”
Nadeem gestured for Tom to take a seat at his desk and walked around to sit in his own seat.
“Tell me what happened.”
Tom gave him the short version of the events.
Nadeem listened carefully. “Such a terrible thing,” he said once Tom finished.
“Yeah.” Tom sighed.
“Listen, why don’t you come over today after work? My wife will cook you dinner.”
Tom was silent. He didn’t want to accept the offer but he didn’t want to refuse Nadeem.
Nadeem smiled. “Come on, my friend. What do you say? I know you love those samosas and pakoras. You always ask me for them!”
Tom smiled. “Thanks, mate. But I can’t. Some other time maybe.”
“Okay. Just let me know. I can’t let you be alone in this time, you understand?”
Tom nodded. His phone buzzed with a text message alert. The same happened with Nadeem’s phone. They exchanged looks.
Tom checked the message.
“Sixth form assembly?” Nadeem asked.
“Yup.”
The two of them got up and left the office, heading for the assembly hall in the main section of the school. When they arrived at the entrance of the hall, several classes had already entered and were seated while others were still arriving.
Tom and Nadeem entered the hall and walked down the side of the rows of seats.
Although he couldn’t be certain, Tom felt like all the students were watching him as if they already knew about what had happened. It was likely. Some of the girls who were at the scene must’ve messaged all their friends who in turn would’ve alerted others, the news of the murder spreading like a disease by the time Tom had arrived at the school.
The school headmaster Mr Woolrich, a silver haired man in his late fifties, stood at the front of the hall facing the rows of students. When he spotted Tom he walked up to greet him.
Woolrich clasped a hand around Tom’s and placed his other hand on Tom’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what to say, Tom. Such a terrible loss. Words fail me.”
Tom nodded. “Are you going to make the announcement now?”
Woolrich gave him a hopeless look. “Yes, they have to hear it from me.”
Tom thought about hinting that the students probably knew already thanks to online social networks and text messaging but kept quiet instead.
He looked at the rows of students and wondered what else they might know.
He thought about the three armed attackers and how they had been similar sized to a lot of the boys sitting in view right now.
The thought just popped into his mind and now he couldn’t get it out – what if his attackers were sitting right here in assembly?
4
The assembly was excruciating. Woolrich made the announcement, informing the students that Chris had been murdered after school the day before. The news made shockwaves. Some of the girls present were sobbing. Tom thought he spotted a few boys getting teary eyed too. He always knew Chris had been popular among the students but had not expected this kind of outpouring of grief.
He wondered if this was how it would have been if he had died and Chris had lived.
He was nowhere near as loved as the veteran Chris and not many of the students knew Tom because he hadn’t taught as many classes as Chris had.
In a strange way, he felt like he was witnessing his own eulogy. The tribute Woolrich had given Chris was heartfelt and totally authentic. Tom imagined himself being talked about so lovingly and then admonished himself for the foolish thought.
When the assembly ended, Woolrich approached Tom.
“We’ve got a lot to discuss, Tom. Join me in my office in ten minutes.”
Tom nodded and noticed DS Barker standing near the hall entrance besides the Deputy Head, Mr Blake.
He approached the police officer.
“DS Barker thought he’d make an early visit today,” Blake said.
“I see.”
“We’ll have a chat in a while, Mr Smith. I’ll need to have a talk with the lad first,” Barker said, referring to Atif Hussain.
“Okay,” Tom said. “I’ll be with Mr Woolrich.”
Blake told Barker he’d show him to the headmaster’s office when he was finished with Atif.
Tom’s phone vibrated with a text alert. He excused himself and left the hall.
He walked outdoors and pulled out his phone and saw the message was from Kate:
‘Just heard about you and Chris. Why didn’t you tell me? Call me ASAP. xxx’
Tom slipped the phone back into his pocket and wondered what he’d say to her. He knew she would’ve wanted him to have told her right away and now he had to explain why he hadn’t.
He began typing some kind of apology in reply to her text but after rewording it several times and failing to come up with a satisfying message he gave up and walked back indoors.
Woolrich emerged from the assembly and gestured for Tom to join him towards his office.
They walked in silence for a while until it became too uncomfortable for Tom.
“Have his next of kin been notified?” he asked.
Woolrich nodded. “Of course.”
Tom wondered who it might’ve been. Chris wasn’t married and Tom vaguely recalled that his father was deceased. Chris had mentioned visiting his mother a few times.
“His mother?” Tom asked.
“Yes. She’s coming up from Bournemouth. Should be here soon. I’ll be meeting her right away.”
They walked in silence until they reached Woolrich’s
office. They entered and Woolrich walked around to sit behind his desk. Tom sat opposite him.
“Right then, where to begin?” he said, more to himself than Tom. “I suppose I should start by telling you how sorry I am about what happened and that I’m going to do everything in my power to find the scum that killed Chris.” He leaned back in his seat. “Such a bloody mess. I’ve got dozens of concerned parents to deal with now. Never mind it was one of us murdered and another was lucky to barely get away.”
“The CCTV cameras,” Tom said. “Did you pass the footage on to the police?”
“Yes. That was done yesterday. The police should be going over it now.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Tom asked.
“Well, I’m giving you two weeks off – you’ll the need the time away from this place for the time being. I’ve already arranged for yours and Chris’ classes to be handled by cover teachers over that time so don’t worry about a thing. Leave it all to us.”
“I’ll probably come back after a few days anyway.”
“No, you won’t,” Woolrich said. “You’ll take the full two weeks and when you come back I’ll be needing you to be back to normal, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m relying on you, Tom. We all are. But for now, you’re on leave.”
Tom nodded.
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Have you notified your next of kin?” Woolrich asked.
Tom shook his head. “I will though.”
“Maybe a visit back to Notts is in order?” Woolrich said, before adding “Just don’t make it a permanent one, hey?” He let out a laugh to lighten the mood but it didn’t work.
Tom just sat there and stared at the desk in silence.
Woolrich leaned forward. “Tom, I’ve gotta ask you... you got a good look at them, didn’t you?”
Tom looked up. “They had their faces covered.”
“Oh yes, I remember now. But can you tell me who think they might have been?”
Tom thought about the list of suspects in his back pocket and shook his head.
“Take a guess. An educated guess.” Woolrich smiled.