Unseen Evil

by Liz Mistry

  You’ll be missed my bestest friend, from Declan :-(

  RIP, Pratab. Love you, Meena and Kamal xx :-( :-(

  You’re loving angels instead! Missing you already, Love Betsy Reavley xxxxxx

  Really? I mean really? Barf!

  Yuk… makes me sick. Some of them are even posting pictures with them and the dumbass. Ones with love hearts round them or with flower haloes. What the fuck. Maybe they deserve to join him. What are they like? It’s getting hotter and I wonder how much longer I’ll have to wait.

  It’s then I see him. He’s jogging round the lake, so I snap a couple of photos on zoom. Then he stops, talking to some mucky old tramps and I fire off another couple. Before he heads round in my direction, I backtrack down to the lower path and circle back. I’ve got a job to do before I head back home and last thing I need is to be seen. Not here… not right now.

  CHAPTER 14

  C ompo had been a bit liberal with the Lynx, to the point where on entering the open plan investigation room after his shower, Gus nearly choked. He got why Compo had done it… it was stifling in the room. The windows only opened a couple of inches, presumably in case Gus decided to throw one of the team out. The air conditioning was broken, and the few fans dotted around the room weren’t strong enough to waft a crisp packet never mind have a cooling effect. In short, the amalgamation of busy, sweaty bodies, in a confined space for hours on end, in the middle of a heat wave, had resulted in a less than palatable undertone.

  Taffy and Compo between them were setting up the new, all singing, all dancing crime board that linked all the computers in the room to a touch screen interactive board at the front. He was sure he’d seen a Tom Cruise film with something similar in it. Was it wrong to wish they’d spent the money on the air con rather than equipment Gus wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to master without Compo’s presence?

  ‘Soooo, we’re up and running with that, are we?’ Gus could hear the petulance in his voice and wished he could take the words back. It wasn’t Compo’s fault he was a dinosaur and deep down; he was aware that he really should get to grips with this tech stuff. He relied far too heavily on Compo for even the most basic of things.

  Seemingly oblivious to his boss’ mood, Compo grinned, his shiny cheeks wobbling as he nodded. ‘It’s brilliant, Gus. Don’t you worry though, I’ll get you trained up in no time.’

  Gus snorted. It wasn’t that he was worried exactly, more irritated. He always had so much on his plate that finding time to update his knowledge of the new-fangled system that had been foisted on him was way down his list of priorities. Watching with grudging admiration as Compo and Taffy effortlessly operated the system, he sighed. ‘We’ll see. But for now, we’ve got a killer to catch, yeah?’

  Seeing he had both officers’ attention, Gus began. ‘Right, Compo, you’ve got the victim’s phone – do your magic with that. I want to know everything he was up to for the last six months, who he spoke to, who his friends were, where he went, what his social media can tell us… the lot.’

  He turned to Taffy. ‘Although Dr McGuire didn’t detect any sexual activity on site, this won’t be confirmed until the PM, so I want to know about any perverts, paedophiles etc. in the area. Get to grips with drug activity and see if you can establish some sort of link there.’ All too often teen deaths were gang and/or drug related and although there was no indication this was the case here; Gus would ensure his team explored all avenues. ‘Also, check for any like or similar crimes in the region.’

  As he’d been speaking Compo had input his actions and they were now on the screen next to two images of Pratab Patel. Gus took a moment to look at the lad. In death he looked pitifully young. In life he had a big grin, sparkling eyes, and a handsome face… what a damn waste!

  ‘Pratab’s one of Patti’s pupils at City Academy so we’ll head up there later. I’ll address the older kids… see if we can drum up some information from them.’

  ‘Poor Patti.’ Compo’s tone was morose, and this was reflected in his doleful expression and heavy sigh.

  ‘Eh, why poor Patti?’

  ‘Well, City Academy’s had more than its fair share of press attention recently, hasn’t it?’

  Gus groaned. What an idiot! Of course, this would be crap for Patti. She’d had journalists laying siege at the school gates off and on for months now. Jez Hopkins had been particularly persistent after one of her kids was arrested last year. Gus still hadn’t forgiven him for his irresponsible reporting before that and then the man had compounded his idiocy by exploiting the parents of a boy who’d committed suicide after online bullying and argued that City Academy was responsible for not having tighter policies on digital usage. Like a school could monitor kids’ social media activity twenty-four/seven. ‘Nearly forgot about Jez Hopkins’ Suicide Watch articles.’

  ‘Not to mention the field day the prat had when that teacher was arrested,’ added Taffy. ‘Hope he’s not a dick about this.’

  Gus hoped so too, although he suspected not being a dick wasn’t top of Hopkins’ priority list. ‘We’ll just have to get this solved quickly before he can be a dick. That’s all there is to it.’

  He walked over to the screen and looked at Pratab’s picture from the crime scene. Was he posed like that? His dad certainly seemed to think so and Gus tended to agree. The phone clasped in his hands like some sort of homage to 4G and technology. The equivalent of rosary beads or something? Why did it smack of ritual? He had no real indication that it was a ritualistic kill… just experience, and he’d had more than his fair share of experience of rituals and evil and death. Yep, he’d definitely speak to Nancy. No point in risking things spiralling out of control because he hadn’t acted on his finely honed instincts. Not this time.

  CHAPTER 15

  Y ou can cut the atmosphere with a knife. Mum’s trying to do the whole ‘everything’s normal’ thing… the special breakfast to mark a special event… spicy scrambled eggs and paratha. It’s just a fucking exam. The important thing happened before I was even born. The thing they don’t want to talk about. The thing they haven’t wanted to talk about since I was conceived. My acne’s flared up again and I have to stop myself picking at it, especially the big one right on my chin. Instead, I play with my cutlery, head down, aware that he’s watching me, all sad eyed, trying to make me feel guilty. He’s the one that should be feeling fucking guilty. The silence is too much for Mum, I reckon that’s why she switches on the radio.

  …the youth found dead in Heaton last night has been identified. A police spokesperson says that the boy found at a property on Smith Lane has been identified as sixteen-year-old Pratab Patel. They are treating his death as suspicious and ask anyone in the Bradford Royal Infirmary area last evening between nine and eleven p.m. to contact them on this number…

  ‘Zarqa, that’s my T-shirt you’re wearing. Give it back… Mum?’

  ‘Sssh, Sabah. I’m listening to the news.’

  …paint attack on a Bradford mosque in Manningham has prompted representatives from the Muslim community to call for a full investigation…

  And now on yet another scorching Monday morning, here at Capital Radio, we wish GCSE students all the best as they start their exams…

  My heart starts hammering. It’s out there… on the news. Police are involved. Fuck. I hadn’t thought it would hit the news so soon and then she’s there, frowning at me, her face full of concern. ‘Did you know the young boy? Pratab?’

  My knee starts to judder up and down and I think I’m going to pass out as she puts a plate in front of me. I feel sick. She rests her hand on my shoulder and I have a sudden urge to lean against her, let her hug me tight… but I can’t do that. I shrug her hand off and pretend I don’t hear her sigh.

  ‘He might have been in my year at school – don’t know.’

  But goodie fucking two shoes, Sabah, is sticking her nose in. ‘You did know him Zarqa. You sometimes hung out with him at lunchtime, I saw you.’

  Why’s her voi
ce so sly? Why’s she always stirring it? I open my mouth to reply, but Mo jumps in first, laying a hand on her arm and telling her to, ‘Shush.’

  I scowl at him. Don’t need him jumping to my defence. Don’t want him sticking up for me. Don’t want him looking at me all sad and stupid. Picking up my fork, I start shuffling the egg around on my plate. My stomach’s gurgling and I feel faint. The smell of the Masala chai makes me want to barf, but I make myself roll up my paratha and dip it in the tea. Forcing myself, I bite off a chunk and chew. Despite the tea, it’s like cardboard in my mouth and all I want to do is throw the mug and the eggs at the wall, shout at the top of my voice and run from the kitchen. I need to think. I need to think about what we did last night and with this fucking family around I can’t concentrate. It’s only the presence of my sisters… no, correction… my half-sisters, round the table that stops me. Sabah’s already finished her egg and slurped her chai, like the greedy little shit she is.

  ‘Come on, Zarqa, don’t want to be late and you better not be. You’re the one with the exam.’

  I take another sip of tea. It lands in my belly like a brick and I swallow hard to keep it there. My head’s thumping as I stand up. When Mum comes over to give me a hug, I pull away from her. If she knew what I’d done, she’d cast me out, just like her parents did to her. I scowl as I pass him and don’t acknowledge my mum’s strained voice when she says, ‘Good luck, Zarqa. You can only do your best.’

  Tears spring to my eyes. No, I don’t have to do my best… I can do my very, very worst.

  CHAPTER 16

  I t was still early, yet Gus thought he’d find DCI Nancy Chalmers at her desk and he was right. Her door was open, so he walked straight in, noticing her sandals kicked off near the door and the lingering smell of her perfume that was a sharp contrast to the sour smell in the investigation room just two floors down.

  She glanced up, saw it was him, and took her glasses off, flinging them on top of her paperwork as if his visit couldn’t have come soon enough. ‘Can’t get on top of this damn inbox no matter how early I come in. And half of it’s shite! So much for going paperless… seems I’m the only one got that damn memo.’

  Well aware of how much she hated the admin side of her job, Gus just walked over and sat down, allowing her the time to vent. She looked tired – bags under her eyes, crows’ feet at the side of her eyes, and her normally perfectly styled hair looked decidedly floppy, which Gus put down to the heat more than anything else. He noted that the air con on this floor was working perfectly and savoured the coolness as Nancy ranted. When she finally ground to a halt, ending with an abrupt, ‘Update!’ Gus leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

  ‘You’ve read the preliminary report?’

  When she nodded, he continued, ‘We’ve got an ID and I spoke to the parents last night. Thing is, this was staged – quite elaborately – and the lad who found him couldn’t have come along very much after the killers left the scene.’

  ‘Killers?’ Nancy stood up and walked over to her coffee machine, her floral dress catching the slight air con breeze as she went. ‘You sure about that?’

  Inconsequentially, Gus noticed her hem was half undone and one of the buttons near her neck was missing. Nancy loved her feminine clothes, and bought upmarket – the trouble was, she never could quite carry it off. He nodded when she held the coffee pot up, asking if he wanted a drink. ‘We’ll know more when the PM results come back but that’s where the evidence points so far. Definitely wasn’t suicide. Looks like he was held in place while the actual killer stabbed him.’

  ‘So, what are you saying, Gus?’

  He took his time before replying, mentally going over everything he’d seen at the crime scene, checking if his gut instincts from the previous night still remained. Nancy walked over, handed him his drink and leaned on her desk, gently sipping her own drink, bare feet crossed in front of her, toenails painted a startling red. She tilted her head to one side and waited.

  ‘I think we need to call in Sebastian.’ Gus held her gaze. This, he was sure was the right thing to do. Sebastian Carlton, the ex-FBI behavioural analyst, who now lectured as a Professor in the Forensic Psychology Department at Leeds Trinity University, had worked with them before on cases with multiple victims. This was the first time Gus had asked for him to be brought in after only one victim.

  ‘We can’t afford to be caught on the back foot with this one, Nancy. This kid’s death isn’t a one-off… no way.’

  To give Nancy her due, she nodded her acceptance of his words. They’d worked together for a long time and Gus hoped she realised he wouldn’t ask for Carlton’s involvement unless he was certain it was necessary. ‘Budget’s well and truly fucked as it is, Gus, you know that.’

  Gus waited, of course he knew their budget was tight – it was always spent almost before it came in. But this was a kid… and it wasn’t long after the other kids had been killed at that house party the previous year. He lowered his tone. ‘We can’t afford the bad press for this, Nance. Not after those kids last year. They’d slaughter us.’

  Nancy, none too gently set her mug on the table, ignoring the coffee which slopped all over her paperwork. Placing both hands on her face, she rubbed her fingers into her eyes and then exhaled. ‘You get hold of Carlton and leave the budget with me.’

  She stood up and began soaking up the spilled coffee with some tissues. ‘Now piss off, looks like I’ve got some books to cook to keep She Who Must Be Obeyed off my back.’

  Gus grinned. Nancy hadn’t taken to their new Chief Superintendent, and he suspected she’d rather enjoy thwarting her boss.

  CHAPTER 17

  ‘T

  hat’s it, Mam, just one more pill.’ I’ve got my arm round her holding her up against the pillow until she swallows her meds. She’s a dead weight in my arms this morning… lifeless. I hate pumping her full of meds and leaving her lying there, but I’ve no choice.

  ‘Look, Mam, there’s some beans here right next to the bed. You’ll eat them, won’t you? In half an hour, yeah?’

  She looks up at me, her eyes glazed, and her hand shakes as she tries to touch my cheek. ‘You’re a good lad, Jo Jo.’

  I sigh and lower her back onto the bed. The food will still be there when I get home tonight. She’s getting weaker and weaker. I kiss her forehead, but her eyes are already closed, her chest heaving under her nightie. What the hell will we do if she dies? As I leave the room, I turn back and whisper, ‘Bye, Mam, have a good day.’

  Pelting down the stairs, I grab Jessie’s book bag. ‘Come on, Jessie. Get a wriggle on. We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry.’ My skull’s pounding like some bastard’s playing basketball in there, my shoulders ache, and I’ve got a crick in my neck. Last night was mad… totally mad. Fuck! What did we do? Haven’t had a chance to think about that yet either. Shit! What am I gonna say to her today?

  Yesterday was mental, what with me mam and then Jessie followed by the webcamming. Nah, that’s not true… not really. I could’ve thought about it… just didn’t want to. Can’t get my head round that. That was some big fucking shit we did. Then, that other bloke wanted the usual… said he’d pay big time. I need the money. Need it right now, but I’ll have to wait. Looks like I’ll need to go to the food bank again after school. Jessie needs to eat and so does me mam. Where the hell is she?

  ‘Come on, Jess.’

  The gas and leccy are due this week and Mum’s benefit check will only just cover it. Maybe I should just give in and choose a side. Not like I’d be able to leave my mum and Jess to go to university, anyway. Might as well resign myself to selling E to scrotes in clubs to keep the gangs off my back.

  ‘Jessie! Right now.’

  I open the front door and the sweltering heat hits me in the face nearly knocking me backwards. Aw for fuck’s sake, Jess, come on! Today of all days, I can’t be late. ‘Jess, you’re making me late and I’ve got my exam. You don’t want me disqualified, do you?’

 
What the hell is she doing? I turn and march back through into the kitchen and stop. Jess stands there, her little red and white school dress smeared with tomato sauce, her hair knotty and tangled, her face streaming with tears. I take a deep breath and bundle her into my arms. ‘Aw, Jessie babes. Don’t cry. Look, I’ll sort it.’

  Poor kid. She’s got two school dresses and the other one is in a pile near the washing machine because I had no detergent to wash it over the weekend. Lifting her onto a chair in front of the sink, I use a cloth to wipe off as much of the sauce as I can. Her dress is sodden now, but the sauce has gone. ‘It’ll dry by the time you get to school.’

  After rinsing the cloth, I wipe away her tears, before lifting her back down to the floor. ‘I’ll do your hair. Won’t be as good as Mum does it, but it’ll be all right. But then we need to scoot, right?’

  Her bottom lip still trembles, but she nods at me and my heart breaks a little as she obediently turns around so I can brush her hair. I hate doing this. How the hell can I make robots and drones and stuff, with all their little fiddly components, but put a hairbrush in my hands and they turn into big fat sausage fingers. Although I’m yanking her hair, pulling the tugs until they’re smooth, Jess doesn’t so much as yelp. I could kiss her. She’s a tough kid and I’m right proud of her.

  As I flip the band into her hair and inexpertly twist it over again, I hear a noise. As I glance up my fingers tighten momentarily on Jess’ shoulders before she turns away with an, ‘Ouch, Jo Jo that hurt.’

  But I’ve seen who’s come into the house.

  ‘What d’you want?’ My voice is level and calm, but inside my stomach’s flipping like it’s Pancake Tuesday.

  Razor, as smooth and articulate as Hammerhead is dumb, looks at me, a knowing grin all over his face. He’s holding a fag in one hand and, as if sensing my annoyance that he’s smoking in my house, he takes a slow drag and blows the smoke towards me. Over his shoulder his two enforcers are there, waiting for him to direct them. What the hell is it with little men leading the gangs in Bradford? For a single second, I wish I’d slammed the door shut behind me when I came looking for Jess – no point in that though. This was going to happen sooner or later… just wish it was later. Time’s cracking on and I really need to get to school – get to my exam.