Dead Wrong (12 page)

‘So it would be hard to get in with a knife but not impossible?’ I took a second huge bite.

‘Nah. I’ve seen people in there with all sorts. There’s ways, I suppose, and say if you know the bouncers they’re not going to give you any grief.’

‘You said Zeb sometimes got into fights. Would you say he was violent, then?’

She grimaced. ‘Short fuse, really, dead moody.’

I recalled his barely suppressed rage.

She glanced at me, frowned. ‘He never carried a knife. No,’ she shook her head several times, ‘it wasn’t him. He has his faults, plenty of them, but not that, he’d not do that. He might thump someone but he’d never use anything like a weapon.’

But if he was infuriated and a knife was at hand? Losing his temper, losing control. At that moment was it any different from thumping someone?

‘Besides,’ she added, ‘Ahktar was his cousin and there was no bad feeling between them.’

‘OK. Have you any idea who it might have been?’

‘I wish I had. It doesn’t make sense. Ahktar, he wasn’t the sort to get into trouble.’ She finished her crispbreads and cheese and took out the apple. ‘Someone said there were witnesses, though, someone who saw what happened?’

I nodded. ‘Mr and Mrs Siddiq.’

‘Siddiq – Rashid Siddiq?’ Her eyes widened. She held the apple in mid-air.

‘You know him?’

‘Yeah, he works for Jay, with Zeb and that.’

My stomach tightened as she talked, alert to the implications of what she was saying. Zeb Khan did know Rashid Siddiq. ‘At the Cash and Carry?’

‘They’ve a few places – a warehouse up Cheetham Hill, and they had a shop in the underground market as well. Expect it’s shut now.’

‘With the bomb,’ I bit off another chunk of sandwich, rescued some of the tomato as it slithered out of the side.

‘What was he doing at Nirvana?’ Emma wondered. ‘Shouldn’t have thought it was his scene.’

‘Too old?’

She blew out, raised her eyebrows. ‘Never seen him there before. Not the dancing type.’

And his wife had been very defensive about their decision to go there that night. ‘You didn’t see him New Year’s Eve?’

‘No.’

There was a burst of laughter and jeering from across the park as one of the boys fell and slithered along the ground, his bike on top of him.

‘What does Rashid Siddiq do for Jay?’

‘Dunno. Bit of a hard man, I reckon, security and that, sort out trouble. He used to come and pick Zeb up now and then. Gave me the creeps.’

I waited for her to elaborate.

‘He never had much to say for himself and if you tried small talk he’d just ignore you. Dead rude.’

‘Did he know Ahktar?’

She thought about it. ‘I expect they’d have bumped into each other at the shop or the warehouse. I know Ahktar went up there now and again. I suppose they’d know each other by sight, but not well, like.’

Not at all, according to the Siddiqs.

‘And what does Zeb do at work?’

‘As little as possible,’ she laughed. ‘He and Jay hate each other’s guts. Zeb reckons Jay got all the breaks, big brother and that, gets his own business going but Zeb never gets a share in it. He’s just an employee, thinks he should be a partner.’

‘So Jay’s in charge, and Zeb works for him?’

‘Yeah, and if it hadn’t been for the family, Jay would have slung Zeb out years ago. He’s well pissed off with him.’

‘Because he doesn’t work hard?’

‘And he’s unreliable and he throws it all away. All the money he makes goes on blackjack or on…’ She hesitated.

‘Cocaine? I know he uses it quite heavily.’ Something occurred to me. ‘Is he dealing as well?’

‘I never asked. He never said.’ The way she chose to phrase it made it clear she was ninety-nine per cent certain he was.

‘Does Jay know?’

She didn’t speak. When I looked at her there was a guarded look in her eyes which had not been there before.

‘It might be irrelevant,’ I said. ‘All of this might be, or it might fit in with something else that helps get Luke off.’

She started as there was a sudden crash of branches and a shriek from the magpie in the trees.

‘If anyone knew that I’d told you…’ she explained with reluctance.

‘The only way that could ever happen is if it becomes a vital part of the evidence in Luke’s defence. Then you’d be called as a defence witness and you’d have full protection. I’m not interested in drugs, or busting people, that’s not why I’m here. It’s my job to find out anything I can that casts doubt on Luke murdering Ahktar.’

‘What’s the connection?’ she asked.

‘There may not be one, like I said. It could all be irrelevant to the defence but I’d still like to know.’

‘Just in case,’ she said wryly.

‘Yes.’

She sighed. Turned the apple in her hand. ‘I couldn’t swear to it, I kept well out of it, but you hear things. Jay’s business, import/export – well…it isn’t all clothes and the Cash and Carry stuff. Now and then there’d be a lot of people coming and going, phone calls, stuff Zeb didn’t want to talk about. Sometimes he and Rashid would be away a day or two over at Hull or Holyhead or Southampton – where the ports are.’ She stopped. ‘That’s all.’

‘Jay was bringing stuff in?’

She bit into the apple. Nodded.

‘Was Ahktar involved in any of this?’

‘No way,’ she said emphatically. ‘I know they were cousins but they were really different. Jay and Zeb, I reckon they are mixed up in all sorts. Ahktar – he was studying for his exams, he wasn’t interested in any of that.’

I finished the rest of my sandwich while I absorbed what Emma had told me.

‘That night, at Nirvana, was Jay there?’

‘No. He never goes to places like that. Especially not anywhere Zeb might be. Zeb owed him money, he owed everyone money but Jay wanted paying. Zeb was in a foul mood; he thought he’d have to sell the flat.’

I asked Emma to go over the events of that night as she remembered them. She and Zeb had arrived early at the club, just after half past eight. Zeb sought out Ahktar and gave him the jacket he’d ordered.

‘It was only three months late,’ she laughed, ‘but Ahktar was made up, dancing round in it. Luke’s trying to get them side by side, Zeb and Ahktar, like a fashion show. Zeb is in one of his stupid moods so he goes off to the bar. Ahktar was dancing and twirling, he looked great.’ Her face fell. Without asking I knew she was thinking about how that evening had ended, with Ahktar’s new jacket drenched in his blood.

She told me how she had danced for a while, with Zeb glowering from the sidelines. Joey D had come along and they’d bought some Es off him.

‘Got better for a while,’ she said, ‘then Zeb goes and blows it, asks me for a loan – can he nip to the hole-in-the-wall with my card. I couldn’t believe it! I’d paid for my ticket already and now he wanted to borrow off me. You know what I earn? Four-fifty an hour; four-fifty an hour and he’s tapping off me. Wanting money. More money. I’d had enough. I’d loaned him before, I’m not tight, but I never saw it again. Oh, he’d take me out to dinner or buy me some flowers and call it quits. I was trying to save for a holiday, for a place of my own, and he was like a drain. I told him to stuff it and I went home. Happy New Year, eh?’

‘And after that?’

‘Well, he didn’t come crawling after me begging forgiveness. Not a word. And I haven’t seen him or any of that lot since.’

Emma had left about ten thirty that night. She said she would have gone to Ahktar’s funeral but it specified family only. She asked me if I thought Luke would like a visit from her. I assured her he would. Anything that made him feel he was believed and that he was not entirely alone would help his morale.

Before leaving I asked Emma about Joey D. Did she know he’d run away from home?

‘No. You don’t think he did it, do you?’

‘He did have a knife,’ I pointed out.

‘Yeah, he was like a big kid with it. But Joey,’ she shook her head in disbelief, ‘oh, he could be a pain but he was that sweet-tempered. Either that or thick-skinned. I felt sorry for him really.’

‘Why?’

I drank my pineapple juice.

‘He was like a limpet, clinging on, wanting to get in with everyone but he was just a big kid. He’d always get stuff for us. Couple of times we went to his place – you seen it?’ She widened her eyes. ‘Mansion. We had parties there. I reckon people took advantage of him, used him. He wanted friends but no one was interested. He only ever got invited anywhere if someone wanted him to bring some drugs.’

‘Did he get stuff from Zeb?’

‘I don’t know.’ She frowned. ‘He came round the flat a couple of times. I made myself scarce. But he must have had other people for his regular stuff. Joey could get you anything, small-scale, like, but he wasn’t in it for the money. It wasn’t a business for him, he just liked being able to help people out, I reckon.’

‘But with the brothers, Zeb and Jay, that was more serious? They were importing it, after all. Jay was probably setting it up, providing the finance, and sending Zeb along with Rashid Siddiq to collect it.’

‘I think.’ She stressed the word.

‘It was a business to them, they were in it to make a lot of money.’

‘Yeah. Least, Jay was. All Zeb ever made was a mess of things.’ I drained my drink. Wondered whether any of this talk of drug smuggling had a bearing on the murder.

‘Joey D,’ I thought aloud. ‘His grandmother said he was very frightened, just after the stabbing. That’s when he ran away.’

She shrugged. ‘Maybe he knows something. Look, if Joey had done it he’d be the sort to give himself up. He’d like all the attention, he’d go for that, picture all over the papers, telly. I can’t see it.’

I sighed. Neither could I. I couldn’t see anything clearly yet. But there were clues there in what Emma had told me. Threads to pick at and knots to untie in the finicky process of unfolding the truth.

I couldn’t fathom out why Sonia Siddiq had claimed that Ahktar Khan was a stranger to her and her husband. Surely the witness testimony would be just as valid if Siddiq knew the victim. I tried to find a reason for the denial. Why did it matter? What changed if Rashid Siddiq had known Ahktar Khan? I turned it over and over in my mind but came up blank. Apart from the startlingly obvious conclusion that Rashid Siddiq had wished to obscure the relationship because if it was known about, it could lead to awkward questions.

‘OK,’ I muttered aloud as I paced my office, ‘if Rashid Siddiq has something to hide, then why come forward in the first place?’ He could have just left it. Nobody knew that the Siddiqs had seen Ahktar being killed, so why speak out? Conscience? From someone Emma had described as a heavy with involvement in drug smuggling? It didn’t add up. My investigation was revealing new facts and the picture was shifting, but it was still jumbled; nothing was in focus, no clear relationship between the different elements.

I was even more bemused by Zeb Khan’s clumsy lie, his denial of any contact with Rashid Siddiq. The two men worked together. Whatever was going on, I was sure the fabrication would be well worth exploring in court.

I sat down and wrote a brief report for Mr Wallace outlining who I had spoken to, what points might prove useful for Luke’s defence, and what I thought was worth further scrutiny. I also totted up my time and expenses and prepared an invoice.

Hoping he’d be keen to retain me, I listed what further action I’d take: corroborate that Rashid and Ahktar were known to each other and that Rashid and Zeb were colleagues; continue to examine the Siddiqs with the hope of discrediting their reliability; attempt to meet with Joey D; discuss hypnosis with Luke and arrange for it if he agreed; and meet with Dermott Pitt, Luke’s lawyer, to tell him what I’d uncovered.

I rang Mr Wallace to arrange a time to meet and he was eager to see me as soon as possible. We fixed on first thing the following morning. I also rang Golborne and booked to see Luke on Monday morning.

Then I went to pick the kids up.

Friday morning and the journey through town was just as laborious as before. Little looked to have changed in the bombed area and we were still diverted, following buses and coaches along small side streets. I saw a poster on a hoarding:
They went for the heart of Manchester but missed the soul. Together we can rebuild our city.
My eyes teared up. I sniffed hard and waited for the queue to move.

Victor Wallace answered the door himself this time. It was a dull damp day so there was no sitting in the garden. No coffee either, as if all he could concentrate on was the case. As soon as we were settled in the study he began to quiz me. ‘You said there was new information. Does it exonerate Luke? What does Pitt say?’ In his eagerness he was almost hectoring me, his shiny face alert, eyes bright with hope.

‘I’ve brought this,’ I handed him my report, ‘it summarises the main points and where I’d like to go next.’

He scanned it, nodding, looking up at me and then back at the paper, his head bobbing to the rhythm of the sentences as though he would memorise them.

‘Good, good,’ he muttered, then directly at me: ‘Good. This is what we need and more of it. Start with Pitt. I’m seeing Luke later today, I’ll fill him in but I think you should see him yourself.’

I smiled. ‘I took the precaution of booking a visit for Monday. He’s agreed to hypnosis too, and I’ve arranged for someone I know to see him on the Tuesday.’

He frowned momentarily. ‘Do you think he’ll remember something?’

‘Maybe. It can’t do any harm, anyway.’ Unless Luke did it and he remembers the unthinkable. I kept that possibility to myself.

‘Could it stir up…he’s not very bright at the moment.’

‘No. It’s a form of relaxation; it should help. She’s very good, the woman I know. I trust her. She said you can’t make someone say or do anything they don’t want to; the patient’s got to feel safe and comfortable.’

‘And he’s agreed to it, you say?’

I nodded. ‘He rang last night.’

‘OK.’ He turned back to the papers. ‘I’m not clear exactly on this stuff about the eye-witnesses. They said they didn’t know Ahktar but you think they did?’

‘Well, Rashid did, certainly. I don’t know about Mrs Siddiq.’