Unseen Evil

by Liz Mistry

  With Compo’s, ‘Brilliant, I love Mrs M’s chocolate brownies,’ ringing in his ears, Gus snorted. His mother’s brownies would be inedible to all but Compo, but she didn’t realise and continued to bring her burnt offerings into Gus’ place of work for his team to share.

  ‘I heard that, Angus.’ Dr McGuire’s tone was mildly disapproving.

  Gus had a momentary pang of guilt which was dispelled when he saw a group of paparazzi gathered outside the school gates. ‘Window’s up, Compo. Don’t want any microphones stuck in my face. Dad, give me a sec, there’s a whole load of journalists outside the school and I’m just pulling into the car park.’

  ‘Oh, I won’t take a minute, laddie. Just think that maybe you need to speak to Gabriella. Poor thing’s been trying to contact you for days now. You should take the time… she’s not going away, you know… she’s family after all.’

  For a moment Gus was speechless. Poor thing? Family? Gus had a childish urge to say What the fuck! in the same tone he’d heard various teenagers using. Instead, he took a deep breath and glowered out his closed window at the journalists who were rapping their knuckles against the glass. His temptation to mouth the words ‘eff off’ to them was strong. ‘I’m working, Dad. Now’s not the time, as I thought you’d realise, bearing in mind the post mortem you’ve just done.’

  Except for Compo’s exaggerated intake of breath there was silence in the car. Compo looked at Gus, his mouth a perfect ‘O’, his forehead puckered, and Gus could almost feel the waves of disapproval adding to the temperature in the already overheated vehicle.

  Showing his warrant card to the gate camera, Gus waited for the barrier to go up and drove past the media herd and into the nearest parking space before mumbling, ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I think you know fine and well that I haven’t forgotten the wee dead laddie, Angus. I’ve just been up to my elbows in his innards. I’ll not forget the waste of that young lad’s life in a hurry. Which is why it’s important that you patch up your differences with Gabriella. Life is too short… shorter than you know.’

  Was his dad getting maudlin? Before he had a chance to ask what he was on about, Dr McGuire continued, back to its usual brusqueness, ‘Besides she has something important to ask you.’

  Gus bit down on the retort that sprung to his lips. No point in making things worse by saying that his ex-wife was always after something. ‘I’m busy, Dad. Gotta go.’

  As they exited the vehicle, Gus heard a familiar voice yell, ‘Could you comment on this Snapchat Killer, DI McGuire?’

  Shit! It had leaked already. He knew it would, but he’d expected to have a while longer before the likes of Jez Hopkins got his hand on that info and created a stupid tagline that glorified the killers. He turned and glared at Hopkins, who grinned at him from behind the gates. What Gus would give for that tosser to be behind bars for real.

  ‘Come on, ignore them.’

  But Compo, shoulders hunched, scowled at Gus. ‘No need for that you know.’

  For a moment Gus thought Compo was defending the journalist.

  ‘No need at all. You should be thankful you got a lovely family. Your dad dun’t deserve that.’

  Ah, not the reporter, but his dad. Gus had the grace to admit, if only to himself, that Compo was right. ‘Come on, we got other things to think about. Patti’s got all the senior year groups together, so we can talk to them.’

  CHAPTER 27

  C ity Academy was a fairly new building, with an additional annex off to the side. Its cold concrete dazzled in the sunlight, little sparks of colour glistening from the slabs. Gus ran up the steps and entered the building by the visitors’ entrance, to find Patti waiting for him there. It always made Gus feel a little awkward being with Patti in the school building. Here at her place of work she presented a calm yet efficient aura, that masked the bouts of giggles she was prone to in his company. He never quite knew how to greet her here either, so he took his cue from her as she said, ‘Ah, DI McGuire and DC Compton, the students are waiting for you.’

  Despite her smile, Gus recognised the tension in the way she held her body and the faint lines around her mouth. She would hold things together for her staff and students, but this would be difficult for her. No head teacher wanted to have to deal with the death of one of their students, yet Patti had had this experience before, and not so very long ago and now, once more, she had a team of journalists on the doorstep and her school was in the spotlight. He followed her along a corridor towards the theatre and was taken aback by a display table covered in a velvet drape with a large photograph of Pratab hanging behind it. Beneath it were small offerings of soft toys and flowers and in centre place was an ornate glass bowl with a simple sign containing the words, ‘Our thoughts for Pratab’. A supply of pens and multicoloured Post-it notes were scattered in front and already the vase was more than half full of the students’ messages and thoughts.

  Patti gestured at the shrine. ‘A group of students asked if they could do something to remember Pratab. It’s all part of the grieving process.’

  They passed the shrine and Patti opened the door leading into the theatre. At once the subdued tones of the waiting youngsters drifted into the corridor. Gus wished they were waiting for a normal assembly or a school play rather than to be asked for information about their deceased schoolmate. This was not going to be easy, but it was important that he represented the face of the investigation to these kids. They needed to see both him and his team as approachable despite the presence of four uniformed officers lining the edge of the auditorium. Taffy was already there, standing next to them. Gus made a mental note to remind the lad about speeding.

  Patti introduced Gus and his team to the assembled year group.

  From where he stood in front of the rows of students, a welcome breeze from the massive fan that hung from the ceiling cooled him down, drying the sweat on his body, but leaving him feeling sticky and uncomfortable. Gus took a moment to cast his eyes along the lines of students and realised he recognised a few. Zarqa was sitting halfway up and to the left. There were a couple of lads he’d interviewed the previous year when their friend had gone missing. Haider and Karim were sitting a few seats apart, a few of Zarqa’s friends he’d met in passing at Mo’s and another girl who nodded at him were in the third row. Belatedly, he realised she was the DCS’s daughter.

  Taking the time to make sure he engaged in eye contact with as many students as he could, Gus began. He projected his voice so it hit the back wall. ‘I know this has been a difficult day for you. Exams, the unbearable heat, and most of all, the death of your school friend. I won’t keep you here for long.’ He paused and moved closer to the front row.

  ‘It’s never easy to come to terms with this sort of tragedy… but one thing that will help with that, is finding justice for Pratab. And in order to do that, we need to have as much information as we can about him. We need to know about his friends, the places he went, the things he liked to do, the people he knew inside and outside of school. I expect some of you might have shared secrets with Pratab – things he perhaps didn’t tell his siblings or parents. These sorts of things might be what helps us catch his killer. These officers,’ Gus pointed towards his uniformed colleagues, ‘will be available in the school at lunchtime, and before and after school. If you know anything, no matter how insignificant, we’d like you to share it with them.’

  A few students began to cry, muffled sobs that were probably a combination of grief and fear. ‘I’m not going to keep you much longer. These officers will be interviewing those of you who were closest to Pratab. However, any one of you can arrange a meeting with one of my team by texting this number.’ Gus pointed to a number on the screen behind him.

  ‘These meetings will be confidential. We want you to feel comfortable coming forward with any information you may have. I want you all to take a moment to put that number into your phones.’ He paused and waited.

  A few of the kids took out their phones and began to inp
ut the number, others looked restlessly around them. Gus cleared his throat. ‘I mean all of you… please… if all of you could take down this number.’ He waited and more students took out their phones, some reluctantly, a few in resignation, and most apparently quite happily. There was no guarantee that all the students were actually taking the number down, or even that they’d bother to contact the police with information, but he was determined to make it as easy for them as possible to do so.

  ‘The number will also be posted on walls around school. In my experience, sometimes things occur to people hours, even days after they’ve been asked for information. Please use this function. If you don’t want to meet up, you could text the information to us. We will take every piece of information seriously. Thank you.’

  Gus left the theatre with Patti, leaving Taffy, Compo, and the uniformed officers available to chat to the students. Together they went to Patti’s office and Gus was glad to sit on a comfy seat right in front of a fan. Now that he’d conducted his ‘official’ police business for the day, he drew out his bandana and tied it round his hair, glad to feel coolness between his neck and his dreads.

  ‘So, what can you tell me about Pratab Patel?’

  Patti slid behind her desk, taking advantage of the desk fan that whirred in a desultory fashion. ‘Pratab Patel? Well, obviously I knew you’d be asking, so I asked around. Seems he’d been a bit of an idiot over the past few months. Skiving school, his grades have gone down. He was a solid A and B student, but…’ She shrugged and shook her head. ‘None of that matters now. A couple of his teachers say he doesn’t seem to be friends with the lads he was friends with before. They’ve seen him on his own at lunch and break times, on his phone mainly. We had his parents in a few times, but it didn’t seem like things were improving. Before that though he’d been great – studious, pleasant.’

  That tallied with what Haider had told him. ‘What about the brother and sister? How have they been?’

  ‘Ah, Mita and Kiran. Pratab was the middle child. Mita can be a handful. Spoilt, but bright.’ She frowned. ‘We had a few reports of Mita bullying one of the Polish girls and last year, she sent a couple of inappropriate texts to a girl she’d fallen out with. There was also talk that Mita shoved some ham in one of the Muslim girl’s lockers, but that was never proven. She seems to be settling down now. Hope this doesn’t spark her off again.’

  Patti pursed her lips in a way that told Gus she had more to add but was weighing up her words. He waited. Patti would speak when she was ready.

  ‘Hmm, Kiran? Well. Kiran is a bit of an enigma. He’s smart, A*s all the way, but… and this is only my own personal feeling, he can be sly.’

  ‘Sly?’

  Patti got up, walked round her desk, and leaned on it and sighed. ‘He’s one of those kids you find hard to like.’ She wafted her hands at Gus as if to ward off any criticism he might have of her words. ‘I know, I know. It’s a horrible thing to say… and it’s just my opinion. It’s not often I can’t see something to like in a kid… but he’s the exception.’

  Okay, he hadn’t expected that. Patti wasn’t one to dislike her pupils for no good reason and the fact that she clearly was distressed at sharing this with him was an indication that she was conflicted. ‘Patti, you can’t love ’em all.’

  Her glare was enough to tell him that she wished very much that she could.

  ‘Any chance you could give me a bit more, Patti? If that’s how you feel about the lad, then it must have some basis.’

  Steepling her fingers in front of her lips, Patti gave his question due consideration before replying, ‘He’s always there, you know? On the periphery of things… other kids get dragged over the coals for something and he’s… just there. Looking sly and a bit self-satisfied.’

  Gus was surprised. This hadn’t been the impression he’d got of Kiran, but then kids were often different at school than they were at home. Apart from that, today must be particularly difficult for the lad. However, he trusted Patti’s judgement. If she thought there was something off with him, then he wouldn’t dismiss it out of hand.

  As if relieved she’d got that off her chest, Patti straightened. ‘It’s just a feeling, okay? Nothing more, nothing concrete, and it probably says more about me than him.’

  Gus stood up and walked over to her. He put his arms round her and hugged her for a moment, breathing in the fresh smell of her perfume, glad it wasn’t the one he’d come to associate with those wretched anonymous letters. Releasing her, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. ‘You take care of yourself, Patti.’ That thought reminded him of something. ‘You’ll never believe this, but DCS Bashir has ordered additional drive-bys on your street and mine. Who’d have thought it, eh?’

  Patti raised a perfectly curved eyebrow. ‘She thinks I need protection?’

  ‘Hmm, perhaps not protection exactly. It’s just a precaution. There’s been no implied threat—’

  ‘Other than that single little omission, you mean? That in itself is a threat, I’d say.’

  ‘Omission?’

  ‘Their name. People who don’t sign off their letters are generally up to no good. You know that, Gus.’

  He had to admit that was true.

  As he went back to pick up his team, Gus wondered about Patti’s assessment of Kiran Patel. Sly and smug? Well he couldn’t arrest him for that, but it was strange that, out of the three Patel children, the dead kid was the one who’d only started to play up recently.

  CHAPTER 28

  Pisces

  M e: Need to talk!

  Wish Zodiac would answer. Just want to know what’s going on. That’s all.

  Ping!

  Fucking notification. Gonna block them. They’re getting on my tits, big time. Come on Zodiac, just reply.

  Ping!

  Why’s the daft git not replying? I’ll try Leo.

  Me: You all right? Heard from Zodiac?

  Surely the loser will reply at least.

  Ping!

  Leo: All right. Keeping my head down. So should you. Stop texting.

  Arse! Who the fuck do you think you are? I nearly text back, but I hear someone outside the door, so I slip the phone in my school bag. I’ll try again later. Just need to keep my cool and we’ll be sorted.

  CHAPTER 29

  H eading for the school canteen, Gus kept an eye open for Zarqa. He’d seen her in the assembly, and he wanted to have a quick word with her if he could before he left. Jerry and Dave’s words about her running down Oak Lane late the previous night had made him worried for her. Time he stood up to the mark and acted like her godfather. Zarqa was acting up. She had every right to, she’d suffered a tremendous shock. Everything she’d believed to be true had been upended and it wasn’t surprising she was being a pain.

  The situation was deteriorating. Mo was worried about Naila. Naila was worried about Mo. They were both worried about Zarqa and their other kids and Gus was worried about all of them. There was too damn much worry going around and something needed to be done. He’d taken a back seat, assuming things would level off, but hearing that Zarqa was out on her own after eleven at night, possibly near where a murder had taken place and especially on a school night, was worrying.

  A crowd of kids gathered round the vending machines near the cafeteria and Gus cast his eye over them looking for Zarqa. Then he caught sight of her sitting on a silver chair, slightly away from the other kids, fingers speeding over her phone. In front of her was a pile of books and her bag. She’d done something to her hair. The bottom bit was a mucky yellowy colour. It was probably the fashion, but he thought it looked horrid. She looked skinny and frail and, in that moment, when she didn’t realise she was being observed, her eyes looked haunted. As he weaved through the milling pupils, she caught his eye. Her expression changed. Her mouth pulled down and a frown shot across her forehead. She jumped to her feet and began scurrying away from him towards a corridor leading to a maze of classrooms.

  Gus frowned. What was she playing
at? He only wanted to chat. ‘Zarqa. Stop!’

  As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, for every one of the pupils turned to look at him. Their eyes following him as he headed along the corridor after his goddaughter who had sped up. For goodness’s sake, what had he done? He was on her side. Zarqa was usually happy to chat to him, but her trying to avoid him worried him.

  About ten steps in front of him, Zarqa banged into someone and the pile of books she was carrying scattered onto the floor. She glanced behind, her face contorted into a combination of frustration and anger. Gus was stricken by how desperate she seemed to escape him. He increased his stride and in two seconds was with her, helping her pick up her fallen books. He kept his voice light. ‘You avoiding me, Zarqa?’

  She shrugged as he handed the last of her belongings to her. ‘Didn’t notice you, that’s all.’

  They both knew that was a barefaced lie, but Gus chose to ignore that detail. ‘Look, I wanted to have a quick chat with you.’

  He hesitated, watching the way her eyes darted around as if looking for an escape route. This probably wasn’t the best place to start this sort of dialogue, but he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance, now they were in the middle of a major investigation. Glancing around, he saw an area under the stairs that would afford them some privacy. ‘Over here.’

  With reluctance written all over her face, and dragging her heels, Zarqa joined him. ‘I don’t have time for this, you know, Gus. It’s exam time and I need to study every minute I’ve got.’ Her tone was insolent, each word an accusation, and Gus was momentarily thrown. Where had the sweet acquiescent kid he’d known since she was born gone?

  ‘Oh, so that’s why you’re tearing down Oak Lane after eleven p.m. on the night before an important exam, is it?’ Again, just too late, he realised he’d misspoken. Fuck’s sake, he really needed to get better at this parenting lark.