Uncoiled Lies: a stunning crime thriller Page 16

  DCS Hussain shook his head, in a way that reminded Gus of his nursery teacher when he’d done something silly. ‘You were always too impetuous, Sadia. Too quick to believe what you’re told. That’s not a good trait in a DS. Insh’Allah, you will outgrow it one day and then, maybe, you’ll be worthy of your position.’

  Gus opened his mouth to respond but before he could object to his superior officer’s assertions, Hussain continued. ‘No, I won’t sanction reopening that investigation. It was investigated robustly at the time. Clear up here and I’ll be happy. Is that understood?’ he glared, first at his daughter and then at Gus, adding, ‘You need to keep better control of your team, McGuire.’ He glanced at Sampson. ‘We’ve had trouble with them before.’

  Taking another slice of pizza, he looked at Gus. ‘As the investigation isn’t progressing as quickly as I’d like, I’ve taken the liberty of making an appointment for you to consult with a forensic psychologist. A Professor Carlton. Tomorrow at 2pm, Leeds Trinity University. There is a serial killer at large and you could do with some expert help on this one.’

  A sudden flash of anger, burst through Gus. Not because he’d been told to consult with a forensic psychologist – he admired their skills and welcomed their contributions to profiling offenders. No, Gus was pissed off that Hussain had made the appointment without consulting him first. When he replied, his tone was clipped but polite. ‘With all due respect DCS Hussain, much as I welcome the input, I’d rather make my own appointments. If you give me the number, I’ll reschedule the appointment to a more convenient time.’

  Hussain stood, his thin lips in a semblance of a smile. ‘No, McGuire. I’m issuing a direct order to you. You will consult with Professor Carlton at the time given. I thought you’d be champing at the bit to get some input from a renowned psychologist who has worked for a number of years at Quantico. Or… perhaps you think you’re better qualified.’

  The last statement, Gus knew, was a dig at his own degree in forensic psychology that had got him on the fast track scheme in the first place. He knew Hussain devalued the work of fast-tracked graduates at every opportunity. Gus was fine with that when it was merited. He was all too aware that some of his fellow fast-trackers had fallen short of the expectations their superiors had placed on them. However, he was equally aware that he was one of the success stories, with a proven track record behind him.

  Feeling ready to explode at the man’s arsiness, Gus took a deep breath as Hussain walked out, closing the door behind him. For seconds the air held a palpable chill before, as one, everyone released a huge breath. Then, just as they relaxed, the air was sucked from the room, when Hussain popped his head back round the door and spoke to his daughter.

  ‘Shamila phoned for you last night, Sadia. Strange really, as I was sure you said you were with her.’ He shrugged and his smile reeked of insincerity. ‘Never mind, beti, we can clear that little mystery up tonight after prayers, can’t we?’ and he pulled the door closed with a sharp click.

  Sadia’s face paled and she glanced at Gus, who shook his head with a worried smile. Shit, it looked like Sadia would be in for it tonight. Although she’d told him repeatedly how domineering and controlling her father was, Gus had, until now, thought she must be exaggerating. However, the behaviour he’d just witnessed left him in no doubt that every word Sadia had told him was true.

  The next thing he knew was that Alice had grabbed Sadia’s hand and was dragging her from the room announcing, ‘Toilet break, now. Come on.’

  17:25 The Fort

  Brighton had watched the interaction from behind his computer screen feeling smug. Earlier he’d seen what appeared to be a thaw in relations between Alice and Sadia when they’d been blabbing on to McGuire about something or other. They’d lowered their voices, so he’d been unable to work out what had caused this. However, from the bitch’s reaction to her father’s orders regarding the Millie Green murder, followed by Alice’s almost immediate evacuation, Sadia in tow, he surmised it had been concerning this.

  He intimated to Gus that he was taking a smoking break and, humming under his breath, left the incident room in time to see the two women disappear into the ladies’ loos. He’d give anything to be a fly on the wall during their conversation in there.

  Finding himself alone in the smoker’s shelter to the side of The Fort entrance, he used the time to consider his next actions. How soon should he give DCS Hussain the evidence he’d compiled about McGuire and the DCS’s spoilt daughter? He’d do it anonymously if he could. He knew only too well how often it was the messenger who was shot and he’d no intention of succumbing to that fate. However, Hussain had entrusted him to keep an eye on his precious daughter and the rest of McGuire’s team, and he’d agreed. With the prospect of a promotion looming on the horizon, Brighton couldn’t risk DCS Hussain finding out about Sadia and McGuire himself. No, he’d just need to bite the bullet and hope things would work out.

  He inhaled deeply, savouring the hit of smoke in his lungs. He’d print the photos off tonight and take them personally to the DCS in the morning. He grinned. Then he could sit back and watch the fireworks fly. DI McGuire’s days would be numbered and that bitch would be put on a tight leash. She’d probably be shipped off to Pakistan to marry her cousin or something… that’s what Pakis did after all. Yeah, that would be even better, and whilst McGuire was busy sorting out his career, Brighton could get his feet under the table by playing Hussain and McGuire off against each other. He frowned. He’d have to play it carefully though. He’d maybe been a bit too obviously disruptive earlier with the DNA and PM reports. Better ingratiate himself a bit more with McGuire and not rock the boat.

  Brighton flicked his cigarette towards the large metal ashtray and made his way back indoors as two bits of skirt from the offices walked into the shelter. As the women lit up Brighton eyed them up. One was a bit fat for his liking but the other? Well, he wouldn’t kick her out of the bed for farting, that’s for sure.

  17:25 The Fort

  Sadia followed Alice down the corridor and into the ladies’ toilet where she watched with barely concealed amusement as Alice checked each cubicle and, after ascertaining that they were empty, locked the external door and turned to face Sadia. Hands on her hips, she looked like an indignant elf. ‘Bloody hell, Sadia, what are you up to?’

  Sadia raised one eyebrow, feigning puzzlement. ‘What, Al?’

  Alice snorted, inelegant as ever. Again, Sadia refrained from smiling, sensing the other girl was in no mood to be teased.

  ‘Don’t you “what?” me, Sadia. Spit it out, right now!’

  In an attempt to delay responding, Sadia turned and began to fill the sink with cold water. A single glance in the mirror that ran behind the row of sinks confirmed that her face looked clammy and pale after the run-in with her father. Reaching round Alice, she grabbed a handful of paper towels and dampened them in the basin before mopping her face. Studying Alice’s reflection, she wondered what exactly it was that Alice wanted her to ‘spit out’. Not wanting to give anything away, she hedged her bets. ‘Not sure what you’re on about, Alice. It’s not news to anyone that my dad and I don’t get on very well.’

  ‘Look, I’m not a bloody idiot, you know?’ Alice huffed and, folding her arms over her chest, she leaned her bottom against the adjacent sink and glared as Sadia began to dry her face.

  Turning to face her, Sadia knew that Alice wasn’t going to let her get away with this so easily and she was proved right when Alice straightened and, chin jutting out, said, ‘How long’s it been going on?’

  Sadia tossed her used towels into the bin, ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You and Gus aren’t keeping an eye on me because of what happened in Brent are you?’

  Sadia frowned. God, had Alice really thought she was spying on her? No wonder things had been chilly between them for the past few weeks. ‘Hell no, Alice. I wouldn’t do that. Neither would Gus. If someone wanted you monitored, Gus would have
told you up front. He doesn’t do stuff behind the team’s back.’

  Alice grinned. ‘Yeah, that’s what he said too. So, you and Gus have nothing going on that you’re keeping from the rest of the team?’

  Sadia felt her cheeks colour as she tried to maintain eye contact with Alice without flinching. Finally, when it was clear Alice wasn’t going to budge she flung her hands in the air. ‘Okay, what do you think you know?’

  Alice’s grin deepened, ‘Well, judging by the way Gus looked ready to clout your dad when he spoke to you like that, I’d say Gus has more than just a professional interest in you. It’s me you’re talking to, Sad, and in case you wondered, I’m not bloody stupid.’

  Deciding that one more bluff was worth a try, Sadia looked straight at Alice and, tone firm, said, ‘Rubbish! You’ve got an over-active imagination, Alice, that’s all.’

  Alice laughed. ‘Yeah, right, and the way you looked when your dad was being arsy with Gus wasn’t more personal than professional, was it? I knew it. I should have guessed last night, but I got myself all aerated about Brent’

  ‘Oh Alice,’ said Sadia, her voice angry, ‘Let London go. It’s finished. Over. You’ve been exonerated. Graham Willis was the bad officer, not you. We all know that.’

  Alice shook her head, ‘Stop deflecting, Sadia.’

  Sadia closed her eyes and shook her head slowly from side to side for effect.

  Alice nudged her. ‘Again, at the risk of repeating myself, you and Gus are getting it on.’ And, in what Sadia considered to be a childish tone, but one that nevertheless had her creasing up with laughter, Alice began to sing, ‘Gus and Sadia up a tree K.I.S.S.I.N.G…’

  Sadia, realising that she was beaten, nudged Alice. ‘Okay, okay shut up! Yes, we’re in a relationship. We didn’t want everyone to know. Mainly because of what my dad would do, but also because it’s new and with him being my boss, it’s a bit iffy. Not that he makes any exceptions for me.’ As soon as the words left her mouth Sadia felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. The past few months had been a strain. Keeping secrets wasn’t in her nature and she was relieved to finally share it with someone other than Gus.

  Alice sniffed. ‘Well, I’m relieved to be honest. I was going round the twist thinking you two didn’t trust me.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Professionally that is, because of course you didn’t actually trust me on a personal level.’ She paused and face serious, she looked at Sadia. ‘What are you going to do, Sad?’

  Sadia shook her head. After her dad’s performance, she felt even more confused. She loved him, course she did, but right at this minute, she wanted to disown him. Did he have to be such a pompous git with the team? And the way he’d treated Sampson? That was just unforgiveable… it was nothing short of bullying. ‘Gus thinks I should tell him but I can’t. He’d destroy Gus. His career, his life and maybe even Doc McGuire’s, too. He’s got weight, you know, he could make sure Doc McGuire doesn’t work for us again.’

  ‘I don’t get it. Gus is great. A good guy. Doesn’t womanise, holds a good job.’

  Sadia smiled. She was well used to this sort of reaction. At school she’d constantly had to explain aspects of her culture to her non-Muslim friends. But this was something she didn’t really have an explanation for… it just was. ‘Gus isn’t Muslim, Alice, and if he’s not Muslim, my dad won’t even consider him.’

  ‘It’s serious, then?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ said Sadia, tears rolling down her cheeks, ‘but I know how it will end.’

  Alice frowned. ‘How?’

  ‘Gus hurt again and me married to some bloke I hardly know.’ She hated the tone of self-pity in her voice.

  Alice snorted, ‘Oh, get real, Sadia. You’re twenty-five. You’re a woman not a little girl. He can’t decide for you.’

  Sadia realised how limp she was being, but she just didn’t know what she could do about it. How could she keep everyone happy when they all wanted and expected very different things?

  ‘No, you’re right. My dad can’t decide for me. He’ll just make the options very clear and then leave it for me to decide.’

  ‘Well, that’s okay then.’

  ‘You don’t understand Alice. I’ll have to let Gus go. Since my mum died I’m all my dad’s got left. He brought me up almost single-handedly. My mum was never in very good health and I can’t repay him in this way.’

  ‘Have you spoken to Gus about all this? Surely there’s a solution.’

  Sadia smiled. ‘I did mention the possibility of him reverting to Islam, but as you can imagine that didn’t go down too well.’

  Alice snorted. ‘God, I can imagine. Gus has got no time for religion, I can’t see him becoming Muslim, but, at the end of the day, Sadia, your dad’s not God. He can’t touch Gus or the Doc, for that matter.’

  ‘Hmm, you don’t know my dad.’

  17:30 Thornbury

  Serafina had stayed late at school hoping to find out how Hasnain was doing, but the last she’d heard was that he was still critical in Bradford Royal Infirmary. Of course, she felt responsible. Hasnain’s friend Benny’s words kept reverberating in her mind. She was certain in her own mind that Anastazy was behind the attack and it was her fault that he’d done this. Now, her mood matching the drizzle that speckled the streets and the darkness that the warm glow of streetlights did little to dispel, she trudged home. Anxiety had made her restless so she’d walked down the side streets to the interchange before catching her bus up Leeds Road to Thornbury. The hustle of crowded bodies, in damp steaming clothes, had done nothing to restore her spirits as she waited for her stop, near the Pakeezah supermarket.

  Memories of Anastazy’s taunting face at the bus window before he ‘shot’ Hasnain, merged with the hatred on Benny’s face when he’d heard about Hasnain, until both became contorted in the pool of blood she’d seen in the Lidl car park. She felt like throwing up and even her crucifix offered her no comfort as she jumped from the bus, and headed home.

  Pushing open the front door and stepping into the warm hallway, Serafina felt a frisson of fear. Something was different, the atmosphere felt heavy, the air malevolent and stagnant. She hesitated, head cocked to one side and then it clicked. The Polish radio station her mum normally listened to was silent. Her mum’s gentle humming, as she pottered about the kitchen was absent and there was no sign of her father upstairs getting ready for his night shift. Heart hammering, she threw her school bag in the corner near her brothers’ discarded trainers and, coat half-fastened, she burst through the kitchen door and ground to a sudden halt.

  Seeing her mother standing by the sink, her father beside her with his arms round her shoulders she felt immediate relief followed by the realisation that something must be very wrong for her father to hold her mother so. The most affection they ever shared was her mother’s clipped civility in response to her father’s silent expectations. Her eldest brother, Jacob, leaned against the back wall and, as Serafina’s glance drifted over him to the figure seated at the table, she noted his fists were clenched by his side. A jolt of fear had her raising her hand in silent warning, her eyes wide and pleading as she willed him to be quiet. Thankfully, neither Luka nor Thomas were present.

  She turned, eyes flashing, to Anastazy, who straddled a chair, his arms balanced along its back grinning and swallowed. Her instincts told her to march over and pummel him till he admitted what he’d done to Hasnain, but, fortunately, her survival instincts kicked in before she could move. Anastazy had hurt Hasnain because of her and now, his presence in her home was a clear threat against her family. This was his way of telling her that not only could he hurt anyone she cared about, but that he most definitely would.

  Unable to contain herself, Serafina glared at him, her chest heaving. Finally, speaking in Polish she said, ‘You are an animal. Why did you do that to Hasnain? He’s just a boy. You had no need to hurt him.’

  Anastazy’s grin deepened. He glanced at her parents. ‘Your daughter has spirit, but maybe she needs t
o be taught respect.’ He scraped his chair back and jumped to his feet in one fluid motion. Before either Serafina or Jacob could protest, he grabbed her mother by the hair and dragged her to the centre of the room.

  Serafina looked at her dad but he stood motionless his expression unreadable. Why didn’t he react? Why hadn’t he done something? Cursing in Polish under her breath, Serafina ran over, tears flooding her face, and managed to grab Anastazy’s arm as he pulled it back, his hand formed into a fist ready to punch her mother. ‘Okay, okay. I am sorry. I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. Please don’t hurt my mother.’

  Anastazy jerked away from her grasping hands and followed the punch through, hitting her mother on the jaw. He let her arm go and she slid to the ground. Serafina hands covered her mouth, as she looked with appalled eyes from Anastazy to her father, who remained glued to his position by the sink. With her eyes she beseeched him to do something, but he looked straight through her a strange half-smile on his lips. Realising he wasn’t going to move to help his wife, Serafina stepped forward and helped her sobbing mother to her feet.

  Behind her, Jacob roared and she felt a waft of air as he lunged towards Anastazy. Releasing her mother, Serafina spun on her heel and placed herself between the two men. ‘No Jacob, no! Let me deal with this. It’s me he wants. I’ll handle this.’ She forced her brother to look her in the eyes, her eyes that were begging him to back down. Breathing heavily, Jacob took a step back and lowered his arm.

  Anastazy laughed and spat in Jacob’s face. Head on one side, eyes narrowed he waited for a reaction. Jacob, a muscle in his cheek the only outwards sign of his anger, looked at Serafina, who shook her head. He backed off to the sink and running cold water on a cloth, he began to dab it on his mother’s bleeding lips. Serafina kept her eyes lowered in what she hoped looked like supplication to Anastazy but, beneath her lowered lashes they sparked in anger. ‘What do you want?’