A prayer followed and then Alan spoke of how Farook had arrived in the UK, how he had established himself as the town’s Mosque Imam and how, towards the end of his life, he had adapted to the Methodist tradition, lavishly devouring Methodist hymns and the simple direct prayer which held no binding mantras. A further shorter prayer followed then a surprise development occurred which no one was expecting.
‘And now I ask Sadar Zubaid to come forward.’
Alan made a gesture with his hand and Sadar stood up then made his way to the chancel step beside the coffin.
‘Salaam Alaikum. Farook was our friend, he was our Imam. We learned from him as his devout prayers and examples carved out the lives of two generations in this town. We are grateful to Allah for his service.’ Sadar then approached the coffin and took from it the Pakistani national flag. The plain-clothed officers could be seen exchanging glances to their colleagues and Alan leant forward from his pulpit to see what was about to transpire.
Sadar opened the flag and begged one of his Pakistani mourners, who he introduced as Kamran, to come forward and hold the other end, making the flag stretch to its full splendour.
‘What do you see?’ he asked. But there was no response. ‘Yes, it’s our national Pakistani flag. But look closer. It is not a green flag with a crescent and a star. It is a green flag with a crescent and star and a white vertical stripe down one side. You see it?’
Heads nodded. His speech so far was not controversial. It seemed to be almost educational.
‘Since 1947 this flag has not changed. The narrow white colour represents all in Pakistan who are not Muslim. Yes, that’s what the white stands for. The Baha’is, the Christians and the Jews, and of course even those who have no religion. They are represented on this flag. Now we can say that Farook crossed from the green side to the white side, but retained his national identity. I do not know why but I am sure he did so with God’s permission. I cannot make that move. Nor do I know whether Farook was settled with his new religion. So, whether he was or not, let me ask you to hear my prayer:
‘O Allah, forgive Your servant, raise him to high rank among those who are rightly guided; make him as a guardian of his descendants who survive him. Forgive us and him, O Lord of the Universe, make his grave spacious and grant him light in it.’
Heads rose. The flag was replaced to fall over the coffin. Before sitting down, Sadar raised his hand to Alan to indicate he had one other matter to announce.
‘I have never attended a crematorium. I will not and cannot either. It is not our tradition to burn a body. So this service may now continue and we will remain till its conclusion.’
Thereafter Sadar returned to sit with his two Muslim friends. Tony felt a relief that there had not been a demonstration or indeed much criticism of the funeral being delayed a week or being held in the Methodist church.
Alan concluded the service by announcing a hymn which Frank had enjoyed learning to sing. Inevitably it was a Charles Wesley hymn. And Can it Be with music by T. Campbell. It was a hymn of Affirmation. There was no doubt in Alan’s mind, Frank was a Christian.
16
The Cremation
As the mourners left the church, Paul Risk’s shivering shoulders bore witness to his distress. Tony caught up with him.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t help it,’ he said in a stuttering voice, wiping his tears from his eyes.
‘Don’t be. It’s good to grieve. It releases the tension of the sad day,’ said Tony.
Paul turned around. His face still etched in agonised pain.
‘I had no idea how much I would miss Frank. I felt we were rowing in the same boat, away from our troubles. I can’t believe he’s no longer with us.’
Tony was touched to think Paul and Frank had found each other’s company mutually beneficial. ‘It was a brave route Farook took to become Frank. I admired him for that, although it cost him his life.’
‘Yes, it must have riled his community. But why take revenge? It was evilly excessive to murder such a gentle man,’ Paul whimpered again.
‘The police are working on it, Paul. Perhaps one day we’ll hear what happened. It might even raise the debate about the right to change one’s religion,’ said Tony.
A further sob led Paul to take Tony’s sleeve.
‘I don’t think I can come to the cremation. It’s still too raw for me and I don’t want to make a scene. To be honest I couldn’t last a half hour without a loo break either.’
‘I understand. That’s all right Paul. You made an appointment with your GP?’
‘Yes, I did. I certainly did.’
Tony nodded then smiled offering his hand.
‘Then I’ll see you next week. Take care.’
The coffin bearing car passed them as they parted. Marti approached Tony in its wake.
‘A touching service, wasn’t it?’
Tony turned towards her and smiled. ‘Yes, went off quite smoothly. Quite a relief.’
‘I was not sure what that Sadar was going to say. I was actually quite apprehensive when he was asked to speak.’
‘I was too, but in the end I was glad he did.’
‘Yes, I had no idea what the white stripe stood for, why it was on their flag. He spoke well.’
‘Are you going to the Crematorium?’
‘Of course, aren’t we all?’
Tony hesitated. He looked around to see Paul head away on the street towards town. ‘Paul has decided not to go.’
‘That’s just as well. He could not control his grief. I had no idea they were so fond of each other.’
‘It wasn’t noticeable in our group musical practices,’ said Tony.
‘No, different focus there.’
The mourners made their way to the crematorium and arrived in good time. The previous service was underway when they arrived. Supt Graham joined Tony as they waited in the forecourt for the mourners to leave and head out to their cars.
‘Went quite well I thought, Superintendent.’
‘So far so good. I’ve not stood my men down yet.’
‘Are you expecting trouble here?’
‘On the face of it, in our planning we felt this would present more of a difficulty if it was seen to be a Muslim cremated. But after Sadar’s speech to the congregation, perhaps there will be no trouble. In fact ...’ said the Superintendent looking around, ‘I can’t see anyone here yet from the Muslim community.’
‘Then you could perhaps stand down your men....and women officers of course?’
‘No, I won’t do that, not yet. A bit of spiritual exposure will do them no harm.’
The men laughed quietly as the Crematory doors opened. The previous grieving family left by the back of the chapel. Those attending Frank’s cremation made their way in from the front.
Once more Karen Kane was on the organ stool playing Barber’s Adagio for strings. Only three pipe stops were out, just the violins, violas and cellos which gave a peaceful aura around the chapel.
Farook’s simple coffin, still covered in the national flags of Pakistan and the Union Jack, rested in the centre of the church on a catafalque in the centre of the chancel.
Tony sat beside Ivan on one side with Marti on the other. A moment later, Alan came out of the vestry and stood in the pulpit.
‘We meet again, this time to say our final farewell to Farook or Frank as he became. Farook had taken a journey from Islam to Christianity and now takes the final journey to dwell in the presence of God in heaven. Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions, if it were not so, I would not have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. Let us pray.’
Tony’s mind wandered during the prayer. He did not believe in what he was hearing, more accepting the prayer as the opium of the people as Karl Marx had said of religion in general. The
hypnotic effect of the prayer with eyes closed found Tony back at his office wondering what the day’s referrals might bring. He was brought back to reality by the request for the congregation to stand and sing I To The Hills Will Lift Mine Eyes. Tony enjoyed singing such a familiar tune but briefly stopped singing when his throat turned hard.
Alan asked them once more to pray. A light touch of Karen’s fingers played less of a melody, more of a dirge, a sombre piece. Tony noticed the curtain start to close. In no time at all, the coffin disappeared and the curtains closed. Frank was on his way to cremation.
Suddenly, a loud explosion came from the back of the crematorium. Heads ducked down as clouds of dust entered the Chapel of Rest. The closed doors took the brunt of the explosion as some of the glass shards flew into the backs of the last row of mourners. A few received cuts to their face and hands. Four police officers immediately responded.
‘Lie low,’ shouted one officer.
‘Wait till we see the situation is clear,’ shouted Supt Graham.
An officer pointed his Tazer gun as he proceeded while the others held truncheons at the ready. They left the chapel and entered the vestibule. Its walls remained intact but cracked. The male toilet door had disintegrated. Vases were on the floor, cracked and broken, their flowers scattered everywhere and a pool of water seeped into the hard wearing Triumph cut pile tiles. The toilet was the scene of most damage. Suspicion that the exploded device was lodged there surfaced. Despite the burst water pipes running around the broken urinal china, Superintendent Graham sealed off the site as a scene of a crime while a colleague requested the ambulance service. Then he alerted his command station.
Out of breath, the woman police officer returned to the vestibule to inform the Superintendent that there was no obvious terrorist in the area but the general public were approaching out of interest from the town.
Supt Graham returned to the chapel to see the frightened mourners, many holding an arm or hand of their seated neighbour.
‘The crematorium has been made secure. Now has anyone got any injury of any kind?’
‘Yes,’ said Alan. ‘There are two ladies with glass in their heads over there on the back row. They are both bleeding and I guess we are all in shock.’
‘I am sure you are. Alan is there another male toilet here?’
‘Yes, next to my vestry.’
‘Then that’s where the men should go if required. Fortunately as the ladies toilet is situated down the outside wing of the building, I can confirm it is not damaged. However to get there you will have to go through the back of the building.’
A siren was heard faintly at first and then it grew louder.
‘That will be the ambulance. So those of you who have any cuts, the walking wounded, please go through the front of the chapel. Put your hand up if you can’t manage to do that.’
One lady raised her hand. ‘Then stay there till the medical staff arrive.’
Tony ran his hand through his hair. He had not been injured. Marty did so too and her finger bled as a shard of glass pierced her hand.
‘You’d better go for a check-up too Marty,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’ll go with you if you like.’
Tony stood up and left the pew. ‘And I thought all was going well. I did not expect this.’
‘No Tony, disappointing. No one expected this at all,’ said Supt Graham.
‘Perhaps the suspicion lies with the Muslim community for this as well. It seems so,’ said Tony.
‘If we catch who did it we might catch who murdered Frank.’
‘I suppose so. So will that make it easier to find him?’ asked Tony.
‘Possibly, depends what these people can find,’ he said pointing to his colleagues.
Tony looked towards the vestibule as a team of scenes of crime officers dressed in white overhauls entered. ‘Yes, they might find the evidence.’
‘Yes, evidence of attempted mass murder.’
‘Mass Murder?’ Tony realised this was indeed a very large police enquiry now. He saw an officer approach the Superintendent.
‘That’s the source of the device sealed off, sir. We’ve made it safe.’
17
Suspicions
Superintendent Graham held a press conference the following day. The local Standard journalist Magdalene Smith began the questioning.
‘Superintendent, with the local murder and this explosion, are the two crimes related?’ A general nod of heads suggested the right question had been asked.
‘That must be a factor but it is not conclusive. We must keep the options open at this stage. We are still combing the area for evidence and following up some leads.’
‘With the murder of the former Imam and now the explosion at the crematorium where no Muslim is ever cremated, the suspects must stem from their own community,’ suggested Magdalene lowering her microphone and brushing back a strand of hair from her eyes.
‘Is that a question? I doubt it. Ms Smith that is merely your summation. Not mine. As I say I must remain open to the evidence which will emerge.’
‘And what evidence will emerge and how will that link to my community?’
‘You are sir?’
‘Mohammad Waris, owner of The Orchard Restaurant.’
‘You must understand no one is charged unless there is evidence against that person. To find the offender we must use whatever tactic is required and within the law.’
‘Yes but will this mean interrogation of the Muslim community? We will resist such biased targeting, I assure you.’
‘I urge you to think carefully. We will act with due care and have no intention of offending anyone. Now unless there are any other questions, I end this press conference.’
The silence which ensued gave those in attendance a moment to reflect on the tension which had emerged. Eyes flirted around the room but no further questions were put before the Superintendent left smartly.
‘Mr Waris, before you go, can I have a word with you?’ asked Magdalene rising from her seat with pen and pad in her hand.
Supt Graham returned to his office and unclipped his black tie. He laid it on his desk and took a long drink of water. He lifted a brown envelope marked urgent lying at an angle before him. He opened it with a sharp plastic date knife which stood erect in his pen pot. It was a report from the forensic team. He eased the report out and sat back in his desk.
A smile crossed his lips. The team had located a fingerprint on the device which had exploded. It was an amateur device, one which a third year pupil could easily have produced in a chemistry class. It had a battery with a timer. It was however an Improvised Explosive Device, a so-called IED. A CO2 cartridge had been filled with an explosive powder and a slow burning wick.
Only by the grace of God had this device not made the building collapse thereby leading to multiple deaths. Had that been the intention, it had failed. Had it succeeded, then no Muslim would have been injured. Once more the elephant in the room came into sight. The Superintendent had to face the wrath of the Muslim community. He would have to interrogate each and every one.
Sadar Zubaid was the obvious link. He had spoken well at the church service. He was a level-headed man and Supt. Graham hoped an interview with him would take the cases forward. He phoned him.
‘Salam Alaikum.’
‘Alaikum Salaam,’ replied Sadar.
‘You appreciate we have two major incidents going on in our town at present, the death of Farook and the explosion at the cemetery.’
‘Please, I accept Farook changed his mind. Let us refer to him as Frank, his chosen name.’
Supt. Graham acknowledged his statement with an unseen smile and a pleasing nod of his head.
‘You see the Holy Qur’an is very clear that mankind has a free choice in the matter of religion. There should be no compulsion in religion. Surely, right has become distinc
t from wrong....Ch 2 V 257 of the Koran.’
‘I hear what you say.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes, but what about those who support ISIS, as extremists, for these crimes in our town have been committed in a similar way?’
‘No. Islam strongly and unreservedly rejects and condemns terrorism in any form, whether committed by an individual, group or government. In fact, according to Islam, no religion can sanction violence and bloodshed of innocent men, women and children in the name of God, since all religions came from God Who sent His prophets to establish peace in the world. Islam places an obligation on every Muslim to uphold peace. This concept is so rooted in Islam that the Holy Qur’an describes true Muslims as those who .....walk on the earth in a dignified manner. And when the ignorant address them, they say Peace. That is verse 64 Chapter 25 of the Holy Qur’an.’
‘I do not doubt the wisdom you are imparting to me, not at all. But Sadar, I have a problem.’
‘Then share it brother.’
‘I have a fingerprint. I must match it to an individual.’
‘Then you are well on the way to finding the culprit or culprits.’
‘I hope so,’ said Supt Graham wondering if the penny had dropped in his thinking. He waited a moment.
‘I will have to obtain all the finger prints of your Mosque attendees and the wider Muslim community.’
Sadar’s neck veins seemed to bulge. ‘You select only one group to isolate the suspects? No Jewish, no known criminals who could have murdered or tried to murder others, Supt Graham? I do not like what you are insinuating. This is discriminatory.’ Sadar’s tone left no doubt about his feelings.
‘Wait a moment Sadar. I’m not targeting anyone.’
‘It’s not the message you are giving out.’
The Trials of Sally Dunning and a Clerical Murder Page 23