Friendless Lane Read online

  Raz comes back in with a bottle of vodka and hands it to Leah. She doesn’t say thanks, just grabs it, unscrews the top and takes a big gulp. Raz looks like he’s never seen anything so vile in his life and leaves again. Leah takes two more swigs and lets her head fall back against the sofa.

  ‘They’re all right really,’ she says. ‘Just get a bit lairy sometimes.’ She holds the bottle out to me.

  ‘He took pictures of me with Cal, when I was pissed,’ I say.

  She doesn’t look surprised. ‘You need to learn how to handle ’em and not piss ’em off.’

  You take the bottle and drink.

  ‘We’ve just got to make the best of it.’ She laughs. ‘Know what I mean?’

  [#]

  Sam was bent over a textbook. At least he was now wearing a T-shirt. Okay, it was two sizes too small and bore the words ‘Scream If You Wanna Go Faster’ across the chest, but clothes were clothes.

  Lilly kissed the top of his head.

  He looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes. ‘Because?’

  ‘Because I can.’ She kissed him again. ‘Because you’re my son and because you could be a lot worse.’

  ‘I’ve been telling you that for years,’ he said.

  Lilly sat on his bed next to him. ‘Why don’t you take the bus into town tomorrow lunchtime? I’ll take you to China Garden.’

  ‘Have you been drinking?’

  She batted him across the head. ‘You’ve been working hard and you need a break.’

  ‘Cool.’

  Downstairs, Alice began to wail. It was a soft, mournful cry that they both knew would soon turn to tannoy level.

  ‘When I’m gone, you will look out for her, won’t you?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘Why? Where’re you going?’

  She went to bat him again.

  ‘Go make tea, Mother,’ he said. ‘And tell Alice to put a sock in it.’

  She smiled, sneaked one last kiss and went downstairs to pacify Alice with a breadstick. Since she’d missed dinner last night, she was determined to make a feast. Spaghetti with creamy salmon sauce. Maybe a baked chocolate cheesecake, its belly still wobbling, for pudding. Bliss.

  She rooted around the baking cupboard, through Union Jack cupcake cases, bottles of green food colouring and a sticky tin of golden syrup. At last she found two bars of dark chocolate. Cheesecake was definitely on the menu.

  Humming, she dragged out her food processor and threw in a packet of Hobnobs. As it whizzed the biscuits to the texture of sand, she broke the chocolate into cubes. She wasn’t tempted to eat any. Her own habit was for the stuff you could buy in all-night garages. David, Sam’s dad, had always derided her for her addiction to cheap chocolate, but what did he know?

  Her mobile rang and she saw it was Jack.

  ‘Guess where I am?’ he asked.

  ‘How can I possibly know that?’

  ‘Guess.’

  She covered the bowl of chocolate pieces in cling film and whacked it into the microwave. ‘Iceland? Tahiti? How about Guantanamo Bay?’

  ‘Wrong.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake just tell me,’ she said.

  ‘I’m in Bury Park. I’ve just arrested Khalid Hussain,’ he told her. ‘He’s in the back of a van as we speak.’

  ‘That’s brilliant.’

  ‘Yep, and when we match his DNA, he is going down.’

  She could hear the sound of sirens.

  ‘Be careful in the interview,’ she said. ‘And let me know how it goes.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Lilly put down her phone and poured herself a large glass of wine. Hopefully Hussain would lead Jack to the rest of his sick gang of friends, and soon Gem’s killers would be behind bars.

  She lifted her glass. ‘Cheers.’

  The phone went again. This time it was Julia.

  ‘I did what you told me to do.’ She sounded breathless. ‘I did it exactly like you said.’ Her words came out in a rush. ‘I kept watch for bloody hours.’

  ‘How did you get on?’

  Julia laughed. A tone of hysteria had set in. ‘Oh Lilly, I’ve got it, I’ve only bloody well got it.’

  Lilly grabbed a pen and paper. ‘Tell it to me very slowly so we don’t make any mistakes.’

  Julia gave her the registration number of the man who was abusing her daughter.

  ‘Say that again,’ Lilly asked.

  Julia repeated it. There was no mistake. Lilly put down her glass.

  ‘When did he drop Velvet back?’ she asked.

  ‘A minute ago,’ Julia replied. ‘Literally a minute ago.’

  Lilly pushed her palm against her forehead. Something was wrong. This didn’t make any sense.

  [#]

  Jack was buzzing. Everything was going according to plan.

  Prisoner tucked up in his cell, solicitor on the way. Technically, he could photograph and swab Hussain now, but he’d wait for the brief to arrive and let him watch as the DNA sample was scraped from the inside of his cheek. It paid to take precautions on a murder rap.

  He rubbed his hands together and wrote up the offence on the custody board.

  ‘You on a promise?’ asked the custody sergeant.

  ‘Better than that.’ Jack beamed. ‘Nothing beats the high of getting a nasty piece of work bang to rights.’

  The sergeant checked the paperwork. It was a quiet night in the custody suite, with only two other prisoners besides Hussain. The board said one was in for robbery, the other for possession of class A drugs. There wouldn’t be any queue for an interview room.

  ‘Will you page me when the brief shows up, Sarge?’ Jack asked. ‘The reception’s shocking in the canteen.’

  At this time of day, the canteen was almost deserted and the hot plates were all scrubbed down and closed. The only person in there was Rose, who was sitting at a table, her mop propped up next to her.

  ‘Look who the cat dragged in,’ she called out to Jack.

  ‘Evening, Rose.’

  ‘What you still doing here, darlin’?’ Rose asked. ‘You got no home to go to?’

  ‘No rest for the wicked,’ Jack answered.

  ‘I don’t know what dis world is coming to when a man have to work all day and all night.’ She leant heavily on her mop handle to get to her feet. ‘You want a cuppa?’

  Jack put his hand on his heart. ‘You make this man very happy, Rose.’

  ‘You’re not the first one to say dat.’ She hooted with laughter. ‘Not by a long ways.’

  ‘You’re breaking my heart, Rose,’ he called after her.

  He watched her trundle back to her counter to make tea. She was obviously tired after a long shift. He could only hope that at that age he would have half her energy and good humour.

  There was a sharp beep that alerted the station to listen for a page, then a woman’s voice, clear and well spoken, rang out.

  ‘Could Officer Jack McNally please return to the custody suite.’

  Jack jumped to his feet and went to the counter to collect his tea.

  ‘Don’t work too hard now,’ said Rose with a wink. ‘Keep somet’ing in the tank for later.’

  Jack smiled and almost ran from the canteen. It was time to get the interview under way. Bring it on.

  [#]

  Lilly pressed redial. Again Jack’s phone went straight to voicemail. She had to get hold of him before he interviewed Hussain.

  Ruefully she abandoned the biscuit base and melted chocolate and grabbed her coat.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Sam asked.

  ‘The police station,’ said Lilly. ‘I’ll be half an hour tops.’

  ‘What about Alice?’

  Lilly waved at her daughter, who was sucking her third breadstick. ‘She’s happy as Larry.’

  ‘Come on, Mum. You know how she gets,’ he said. ‘I’ve got revision to do.’

  ‘Half an hour, that’s all I’m asking.’

  He ran his index finger through the chocolate and licked it. It was too late to r
emind him to wash his hands.

  ‘Can I call Dad to come over?’ he asked.

  Lilly’s heart sank. The last thing she needed was a lecture on childcare priorities from her ex. What the hell did he know about juggling work and family? There was only one set of balls that he kept his eye on …

  ‘It’s only half an hour,’ she repeated. ‘You won’t notice I’m gone.’

  ‘Fine,’ he replied, trailing another finger through the chocolate mixture. ‘But if you go over by even one minute, I’m calling Dad.’

  [#]

  Saeed Jafari, Hussain’s lawyer, had the sort of face you could never get tired of punching. Jack imagined that sticking one on him would be an experience akin to watching Manchester United lose an FA cup final.

  ‘I’m assuming this is some sort of joke,’ said Jafari.

  Jack folded his arms. ‘Joke?’

  ‘I can’t see why else you’ve arrested my client.’ Jafari leered at Jack. ‘So it can only be that you’re having a laugh.’

  ‘Mr Jafari, a fifteen-year-old girl was held prisoner, abused, assaulted, murdered and her body dumped,’ Jack replied. ‘To be honest, I’m failing to see the funny side.’ He could almost hear the soft under-skin crunch of a nose being broken. ‘I’ve arrested your client because I suspect he is one of a gang of men who committed those crimes.’

  Jafari had a clod of skin on the bridge of his nose, as if someone had got in before Jack. When he frowned, the lump aligned with his eyebrows.

  ‘You’ve got no evidence,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve plenty of evidence,’ said Jack. ‘And if your client wants to clear himself, a DNA test will do that no problem.’

  Jafari turned to the custody sergeant. ‘Have you put your name to this sideshow?’

  The sergeant narrowed his eyes. Jack knew he’d met enough cocky solicitors in his time to be familiar with the drill.

  ‘If you could just put your details here, sir.’ The sergeant tapped a form. ‘That would be helpful.’

  Jafari stepped forward, the soles of his plastic slip-ons squeaking against the tiles like a series of small, tight farts. The sergeant held out a pen but Jafari ignored it and pulled out his own from the breast pocket of his nylon shirt, which was neither white nor grey. A similar colour to his teeth.

  ‘I hope you know a good solicitor,’ he said.

  ‘Why don’t you take a seat in there?’ Jack pointed to interview room three. ‘I’ll bring the suspect in.’

  [#]

  Lilly clattered into the reception of the police station, her jacket pulled over her head. How had she run out of the house without a proper coat again?

  The young man at the desk was the same one from this morning.

  ‘Hello again,’ said Lilly.

  He blinked, clearly not recognising her. Who was it said women in middle age were invisible? Whoever it was, they were right.

  ‘I need to speak to Jack McNally,’ she told him. ‘MCU.’

  The young man pulled a mobile from his back pocket and checked the time. Why did no one under twenty-five wear a watch?

  ‘His shift finished a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘I know, but he made an arrest earlier this evening,’ she said. ‘And I really need to speak to him before he interviews the suspect. I’ve got information and it’s vital he’s made aware of it.’

  The young man smiled at her pleasantly, as if what she was saying was mildly interesting at best.

  ‘Could you page him?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘Not from here.’

  ‘Could you contact whoever it is that’s able to page?’

  ‘I don’t know if there’ll be anyone there at this time,’ he said, smile still intact.

  Lilly pressed her lips together. She could cheerfully knock the smile off his face. Instead, she took a step forward, pressed her hands on the side of the desk and leaned close to him.

  ‘Listen, sunshine, I have information on a murder case.’ She let that sink in. ‘And if Jack McNally doesn’t get this information and finds out it’s because you were playing silly buggers, he’s not going to be a happy bunny.’

  The young man turned rhubarb pink. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  [#]

  Jack spent a few minutes rearranging the angle of the camera in the interview suite. In reality it barely moved, being permanently set up to film a particular position commonly known as ‘the hot seat’. But Jack wanted to make Hussain sweat, and one of the best methods to achieve this was to make him wait. All the time he was waiting, he would be trying to figure out what Jack was going to ask him.

  ‘There.’ Jack stood back, looking from camera to Hussain, Hussain to camera. ‘That should do it.’

  ‘David Bailey eat your heart out,’ said Jafari.

  Jack laughed amiably and turned to Hussain.

  ‘I’m assuming you’ve been advised why we record interviews for serious offences such as this. Juries like to see as well as hear defendants.’ He placed as much weight as he could on the last two words.

  Before Hussain could respond, Jafari dived in.

  ‘No jury is ever going to see this interview.’

  ‘Let’s just crack on, shall we?’ said Jack.

  Jafari ignored him. ‘Because this case is never getting to court. Not in a million years.’ He jabbed a stubby finger at Jack. ‘We both know that you didn’t even have enough reason to arrest my client, let alone charge him.’ He snickered unpleasantly. ‘Jury my backside.’

  ‘How about you just let me put the evidence to your client?’ asked Jack. ‘I’m sure he’s raring to tell me his side of the story.’

  ‘My client is saying absolutely nothing about this rubbish,’ said Jafari.

  ‘Surely if he’s innocent he’ll want to explain himself?’

  Jafari leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across the tumble-dry-safe shirt.

  [#]

  Lilly sat down, stood up, then sat back down. She crossed and uncrossed her legs.

  What was taking so long? Where was Jack? Surely he had received her message by now?

  At last the young receptionist reappeared.

  ‘You managed to contact Jack, didn’t you?’ she asked him.

  He smiled.

  ‘It really would be a bloody disaster if he conducted the interview without this information,’ she said.

  ‘I went to the office myself,’ he replied. ‘I relayed what you told me and the desk duty officer confirmed that he’d get hold of Jack McNally and make him aware.’

  Lilly nodded. There was nothing more she could do. She just needed to sit tight and pray Jack would turn up in the next few minutes.

  [#]

  ‘Khalid Hussain, you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder of Gemma Glass,’ said Jack. ‘You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention anything now that you later wish to rely on in court.’

  He looked directly into Hussain’s face for the first time. The man was less cheery than in his school website photograph, but given the circumstances, that wasn’t odd. Was he nervous? If he was, he was keeping it under control. No shaking or sweating. No fidgeting. He didn’t flinch even a little under Jack’s hard gaze. Instead, he held it calmly.

  ‘Do you understand what I’ve just said to you, Khalid?’

  ‘Mr Hussain,’ said Jafari.

  ‘What?’

  Jafari straightened his cuffs. There was a thin blue line across the left one, probably from a biro.

  ‘I think you should show my client some respect,’ he said. ‘He’s not a child or your friend. He’s a man you’ve arrested for no other reason than he fits the racial profile you’ve decided upon for this crime.’

  Jack didn’t react. Not so long ago, he would have blown his top and argued the toss. The interview would have been derailed. But that was exactly what Jafari was looking for. Nice try, mate. No can do.

  ‘Do you understand, Mr Hussain?’ Jack asked. ‘Or would you like me to go ove
r the caution once again?’

  Hussain blinked slowly. His eyes were the colour of Guinness; they had a sparkle to them, like a pint held up to some bank holiday sunshine.

  ‘He understands,’ Jafari snapped.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Jack. ‘Then let’s get on, shall we?’

  He reached under his chair for a box file he’d slipped in place earlier. It was black and bore the word ‘evidence’ in red capitals. He placed it on the table and waited for the two men to read the label, knowing they would immediately try to second-guess what it might contain.

  ‘Empty, is it?’ asked Jafari.

  Jack smiled politely and opened it, allowing them to see the pile inside.

  ‘This is Gemma Glass.’ Jack placed her mug shot on the table, facing Hussain and Jafari. ‘She was murdered by strangulation.’ He pushed the photograph towards them. ‘Do you have anything to say about that, Khalid … sorry, Mr Hussain?’

  ‘That’s not a proper question,’ said Jafari.

  ‘Okaaay,’ said Jack. ‘Mr Hussain, do you know anything about Gemma’s death?’

  Hussain was still looking at the photograph. His face was unreadable. At last he looked up.

  ‘Mr Hussain?’ Jack prompted.

  ‘No comment.’

  Jack inhaled deeply and held the breath. He had known Jafari would advise his client not to cooperate, yet he was still disappointed. All coppers liked a confession. Still, with any luck he could goad Hussain into saying something that might trip him up.

  He exhaled. ‘Did you know Gemma?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Only she attended Field High School for almost five years, and I understand that’s where you work,’ said Jack.

  ‘Is this the crux of it?’ Jafari sounded incredulous. ‘You think that just because my client is a Muslim man who teaches at your victim’s school, he must have killed her?’

  ‘I think that’s one of a number of links between them,’ Jack replied.

  ‘A link?’ Jafari threw his hands into the air. ‘There must be more than a thousand pupils at that school.’

  ‘Nine hundred,’ said Jack. ‘But only one of them is dead.’

  Jafari and Jack stared at one another. The solicitor’s eyes were pale and watery. Jack’s mum would have called them weak, and who was he to argue?

  ‘So did you know her, Mr Hussain?’