Dishonour Page 4

  He flicked one of the larger piles with his nail. Being a copper these days was like being a civil servant.

  He took a violent gulp of coffee and checked his email.

  To: Sergeant Jack McNally

  From : The desk of the Chief Superintendent

  Subject : A Meeting

  Please see me at your earliest convenience.

  Jack scowled. The super was a total prat. He couldn’t just pick up the phone, could he? No doubt he wanted to go over a list of dead cases for archiving or review the latest figures for youth offending. Ticking boxes was something the man revelled in.

  Jack refused to hightail it up to the super’s office. He’d finish his coffee first.

  To be fair, Jack knew full well it wasn’t the email that was making him cranky. It was Lilly. The woman was beyond infuriating.

  He’d be the first to admit that her pregnancy had come as a bit of a shock. Becoming a dad was never something he’d wanted. He couldn’t look after himself, never mind a kid. All those years living alone and he still never managed to have fresh milk in the fridge or pay his gas bill on time. How on earth would he remember all the stuff you had to do for a baby? The poor wee fella would probably starve if it were left to Jack. But after a couple of months he’d settled into the idea. The two of them, with Sam and now a baby, seemed somehow right. A family.

  It should be a time of joy, shouldn’t it? Anticipating the big day, buying prams, choosing a crib. He’d even bought one of those baby names books. So why was Lilly so determined to carry on as usual?

  Setting up a new office, taking on cases, were not what women ought to be doing at a time like this. She should be taking care of herself, letting him take care of her. Maybe he didn’t put it across well but he only ever wanted to look out for her.

  He took another sip of his now cold decaf and pulled out his phone to call her.

  ‘It’s Jack,’ he said.

  ‘Right.’ She sounded distracted.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Mmm,’ she said. ‘Just right in the middle of something.’

  ‘Sounds important.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  Jack knew he should leave it there but he just couldn’t help himself.

  ‘Have you taken your folic acid?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have you taken your folic acid? It’s very important for a growing baby.’

  There was a small silence.

  ‘I put the tablets next to the kettle,’ he said. When she didn’t answer he added, ‘In the kitchen.’

  ‘I know where the kettle is, Jack.’

  ‘Of course you do. I’m just saying.’

  Lilly heaved a sigh down the phone. ‘I have to go.’

  Jack stared at the phone for a few seconds after Lilly hung up. He could picture the brown bottle of tablets, untouched, exactly where he’d left them. Lilly couldn’t possibly have missed them. He slapped his mobile back in his pocket. It made him so angry that Lilly wasn’t prepared to do such a small thing for their child.

  Today was not looking good and a meeting with the biggest penpusher of them all would just about finish him off. Sometimes he was tempted to walk out of the door and never come back.

  ‘Take a seat, Jack.’ The chief super pointed to the chair at the opposite side of the desk.

  Jack slipped silently into his place. Something about the chief super’s office, with its clean lines and heavy paperweights, made Jack uncomfortable. Every visit increased his discomfort.

  ‘I won’t beat around the bush,’ said the chief super.

  That’ll be a first, thought Jack.

  ‘You’ll have heard about the death of Yasmeen Khan.’

  Of course Jack had heard about it. Every copper in Luton knew there were rumblings that the girl’s suicide wasn’t all it seemed. A short-arse called Bell had been swanning around making sure everyone knew just how big this was going to be.

  ‘I understand DI Bell is heading the investigation,’ said Jack.

  The chief super nodded. ‘I’d hoped—well, we’d all hoped—that this could be sorted out.’

  ‘And can’t it?’

  ‘It seems not.’ The chief super steepled his fingers. ‘It seems that the girl was murdered.’

  Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Who’s in the frame?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to divulge that at this stage, Jack,’ said the chief super, ‘but believe me when I say this situation is going to need to be handled with the upmost care.’

  Jack nodded. He thought the tragic death of any young woman merited the upmost care, whatever the current political situation, but he knew this was not something the senior officer wanted to hear.

  ‘And this is where you come in, Jack.’

  Jack was stunned. The chief super wanted him to assist on a murder case. He’d been involved in only one other—when a young girl in care was accused of killing her mother. That case hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Still, he couldn’t help feel a warm glow of satisfaction. Perhaps his talents were being recognised after all these years.

  ‘I’ll do whatever I can to help,’ he said.

  The chief super touched the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. ‘What’s needed here is someone with a delicate touch. We can’t go stamping around with size tens.’

  ‘You can count on me,’ Jack beamed.

  ‘Excellent.’

  The chief super tapped his keyboard and the printer sprung into life. He motioned for Jack to collect the printed document. Jack read it.

  Bury Park Community High

  Denleigh Secondary

  Lealands

  St Joseph’s Roman Catholic High.

  It was a list of the local secondary schools. Jack nodded in what he hoped looked like a thoughtful way.

  ‘Didn’t the Khan girl attend Beech Hall?’

  ‘Two of her siblings still do,’ said the chief super.

  ‘It’s not on the list,’ Jack pointed out.

  ‘Like I say, Jack, this is all very sensitive. Which is why you need to steer clear, for the present time at least.’

  Jack wasn’t so sure. If he was being tasked to talk to people who knew Yasmeen then Beech Hall was the obvious place to start. He didn’t want to argue with the chief but wasn’t convinced the other schools would prove anywhere near as useful.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to leave it too long, sir,’ he ventured.

  ‘A couple of months should do it.’

  ‘A couple of months?’ Jack couldn’t disguise his surprise. ‘That would normally be considered far too late in the day to start gathering evidence.’

  The chief super frowned. ‘What evidence?’

  ‘It’s difficult to say, sir.’ Jack shrugged. ‘Maybe her fellow pupils know something. Maybe she said something to her friends.’

  The chief super pursed his lips. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jack.’

  Jack felt heat seep around his collar in embarrassment. He didn’t consider himself the most articulate of men, he wouldn’t win a debate with Stephen Fry, but most people could understand him.

  ‘I think, sir, that in a murder case it would be fairly standard procedure to speak to everyone who came into regular contact with the victim,’ said Jack, ‘and in this instance that would be the pupils and teachers at Beech Hall.’

  The light of recognition came on in the chief super’s face. ‘Of course, of course.’

  Jack heaved a secret sigh of relief. He was beginning to think he was going mad.

  ‘DI Bell and his team have already got that underway,’ said the chief. ‘The Head has already set up an impromptu interviewing room in one of the science labs.’

  ‘I see,’ said Jack, but he didn’t.

  If they didn’t want him to gather evidence in the schools then what on earth did they want him to do? He didn’t want to flag up his lack of experience in serious offences but he needed some help here.

  ‘And you want me to do the same at these othe
r schools?’

  ‘Good God, man, no. We don’t have the manpower to do that,’ said the chief super. ‘Can you imagine the expense?’

  ‘I hadn’t given it much thought, to be fair,’ said Jack.

  The chief super’s smile was nothing short of patronising. ‘Which is why you’re so good at the sort of thing I’m talking about.’

  Jack reread the list of schools. He had no alternative but to admit defeat.

  ‘And what sort of thing is it I’m good at, sir? What is it you actually want me to do?’

  The chief opened his arms as if the answer were obvious. ‘I need you to visit those schools and chat with the staff.’

  ‘To find out what?’

  ‘Nothing in particular, Jack,’ said the chief. ‘What we need at this delicate time is a calm and friendly presence among the young Asian community.’

  It hit Jack like a truck on the M1.

  ‘You’re asking me to be a schools liaison officer.’

  ‘Oh, nothing as official as that, Jack. For one thing we can’t afford to create an actual post,’ said the chief. ‘A one-off visit to a couple of schools with a high proportion of Asian students should suffice.’

  Jack felt disappointment swell in his chest, crushing his ribcage.

  ‘You don’t want me on the murder team.’

  The chief super looked embarrassed. ‘Best to leave that to the detectives, don’t you think?’

  Jack didn’t answer.

  ‘Anyway,’ said the chief, ‘you have a huge conflict of interests.’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Lilly Valentine,’ answered the chief. ‘She’s representing the Khan family.’

  Lilly chewed her lip. She headed over to Bury Park with the intention of telling the Khans what DI Bell had said. Their beautiful daughter and sister had not killed herself. Someone had murdered her.

  She couldn’t imagine how they would react.

  She’d been racing over in her Mini Cooper when Jack had called to moan about some vitamin or other. The man had no sense that there was anything else going on in the world apart from her pregnancy. She knew she should be flattered, grateful even, but she just couldn’t stand it. She could well guess what his reaction would be to the current turn of events and so she’d hung up. Getting involved with Raffy Khan would be seen as foolishness. Like forgetting those bloody pills. Right now she just didn’t have the time to explain things to him; to make him understand.

  She pulled up outside the Khans’ house and rang the bell.

  Deema opened the door. She held her shawl against one cheek, dark circles under her eyes.

  ‘Mrs Khan,’ said Lilly, ‘may I come in?’

  The older woman didn’t answer but looked over her shoulder to her elder son, who was hurrying down the hallway, wiping his hands on a piece of kitchen roll.

  ‘Thank goodness it’s you.’ Anwar ushered Lilly through to the living room. ‘Mum’s been desperate for news.’

  Lilly cast a glance at Deema. She seemed devoid of any emotion, let alone desperation.

  ‘We’ve all been very anxious.’ Anwar was gabbling, his hands shaking as he dried between his fingers furiously. ‘I’m sure you can imagine.’

  Lilly smiled calmly, determined not to be infected by Anwar’s anxiety. She needed to deliver her news in a composed manner.

  When he opened the sitting-room door she was greeted by a sea of faces. The Khans had already congregated. Raffy sat at one end of the sofa, his legs apart, his arms folded. Mohamed had taken one of the chairs and was tapping the arm with his thumbnail. Deema slid into the other like a trickle of water.

  Saira appeared from the kitchen. ‘Can I get you some tea, Miss Valentine?’

  ‘Thank you, no,’ said Lilly.

  Saira nodded and took her place on the sofa next to Raffy. She tucked her feet under her.

  Anwar pulled over a kitchen chair and beckoned Lilly to sit. He stood at his mother’s side.

  They were all waiting expectantly. Lilly gulped down her panic.

  ‘I thought the younger members of the family might be in school.’

  Raffy tossed his head like an angry colt. ‘We ain’t kids, you know. Saira’s seventeen and I’m fifteen.’

  Lilly made the mental calculation. If Anwar was nineteen and Yasmeen had been sixteen, Mrs Khan had had her gaggle of children one after the other.

  Her eyes flicked to a family photograph taking pride of place on the wall. The young Khans smiled up at their handsome father. Anwar’s hair was neatly parted at the side and Raffy’s front teeth were missing. Even Deema had a lightness to her and held Saira and Yasmeen close. The girls were laughing, sharing a private joke.

  Anwar followed Lilly’s eye line to the photo.

  ‘Happier days,’ he said. ‘Eid, two thousand.’

  ‘Two thousand and one,’ Saira corrected him. ‘Just before Dad died.’

  Anwar nodded sadly.

  ‘Yasmeen was very beautiful,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Oh, yes, everybody said so,’ Anwar agreed. ‘She had the reddest lips I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘I can see that,’ said Lilly.

  ‘When you two have finished your little chat maybe we could get back to the important stuff,’ Raffy snarled. ‘Like our sister being dead and the police harassing us.’

  ‘Please remain civilised, Raffy,’ said Anwar. ‘Miss Valentine is our guest.’

  ‘Guests are people we invite over, brother.’ He pointed at Lilly. ‘She works for us.’

  Lilly gave a tight smile. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re all here because I have some important information.’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ said Raffy,‘you found the police station.’

  Anwar ignored his younger brother and leaned towards Lilly like an excited puppy. ‘They’re sending Yasmeen home to us?’

  Lilly looked into his expectant face. How was this man-child going to cope with what she was about to say? She put her hand over his.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Anwar, but that’s not going to happen.’

  Lilly didn’t know which was worse, the cacophony of abuse from Raffy or the look of quiet horror in Anwar’s eyes.

  ‘I told you we should have instructed one of our own.’ Raffy leaped to his feet. ‘What does someone like her care for a bunch of Pakis?’

  Lilly snapped back her hand from Anwar and whipped her head towards Raffy. ‘Oh, sit down, you stupid boy.’

  Raffy was momentarily silenced but he remained standing. ‘What did you say to me?’

  Lilly hauled herself to her feet and looked the teenager straight in the eye. ‘I told you to sit down.’ Her voice was ice.

  Raffy opened his mouth to speak but Lilly waved away the words before they had the chance to leave his brain.

  ‘What I’m about to say is pretty shocking so I’d prefer it if everyone in this room behaved with dignity.’

  At last Raffy snorted his disgust and flopped back onto the sofa.

  ‘As you know, I agreed with DI Bell that he would have until today to conclude his investigations,’ said Lilly.

  ‘You’ve spoken to him?’ asked Anwar.

  ‘That’s why I’m here. I’m afraid the police won’t release Yasmeen’s body because they believe she was murdered.’

  There were a few seconds’ silence punctuated by the sound of Lilly’s pulse in her ears.

  ‘Murdered?’ Anwar whispered.

  Lilly nodded. ‘That’s what they believe.’

  There was more silence until Raffy let out a shocking roar. He pulled back his leg and kicked over the coffee table. Cups, plates and books scattered across the carpet. Saira screamed.

  ‘That can’t be right.’ Mohamed was also on his feet.

  ‘Of course it’s not right, Uncle,’ Raffy shouted. ‘Those racist bastards just want to torture us.’

  Anwar had his head in his hands. ‘This cannot be happening.’

  ‘Wake up, brother,’ Raffy screamed. ‘They hate us.’

  Saira had begun to we
ep, deep racking sobs from the depths of her belly.

  ‘You can’t let them get away with this,’ Mohamed said to Lilly.

  ‘I can’t stop a murder investigation,’ she replied.

  ‘Look at what they’re doing to this family.’ Mohamed opened his arms to encompass all the Khans.

  Lilly looked around her. Raffy was stalking from one end of the room to the other, crunching through the broken crockery. Saira continued to sob. Anwar sat with his face in his hands. Only Deema remained unmoved and untouched by the chaos around her.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Anwar, tears coursing down his cheeks. ‘Why would they do this to us?’

  ‘Because we are Muslims,’ screamed Raffy. ‘We’re the enemy.’

  Saira, still sobbing, got down on her knees and began to collect up the pieces of broken china.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, leave that, sis,’ said Raffy.

  ‘Someone might hurt themselves,’ she murmured, and continued to clear the shards.

  ‘I said fucking leave it,’ he snapped.

  Lilly tried to clear her head. This was all wrong. She’d feared the family would be devastated but not like this.

  ‘I truly don’t believe your religion has any bearing on this matter,’ she said.

  ‘Religion has a bearing on every matter,’ said Mohamed, a dangerous darkness in his tone.

  ‘Miss Valentine’s correct, of course.’

  Everyone turned to see a man in the doorway, his waspish frame incongruous in a charcoal pinstripe suit.

  He held out his police badge in front of him. ‘DI Bell,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you could hear me knocking.’

  Anwar stood to offer his hand. ‘I’m sorry for that.’

  ‘Don’t apologise to him,’ spat Raffy.

  DI Bell slid his badge into his breast pocket and looked Raffy up and down. A lone wolf, eyeing up his supper.

  ‘How can we help you, Inspector?’ asked Anwar.

  ‘I came to inform you that Yasmeen was murdered but I see Miss Valentine got here first.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ Mohamed asked Bell.

  ‘The only thing he’s sure of is that he wants to make our lives a misery,’ said Raffy.