Dishonour (35 page)

Jack stalked out of the custody suite and rushed up the stairs to Bell’s office. He pushed hard on the door and it hit the wall behind. The office was empty.

Anger made Jack’s face burn and his cheek tormented
him. He was so incensed he directed his fury at Bell’s desk and upended it onto the floor. Papers, pens and coffee cups scattered across the room.

He remembered how the signal on Taslima’s phone had suddenly gone dead, as if she’d been found out. As if someone had alerted Jalil. Being ambitious was one thing, but how could Bell have stooped so low?

Jack kicked the papers on the floor.

Were there any lengths the man wouldn’t sink to?

The answer appeared to Jack on the floor, in the disarray of memos and phone notes. A note from Cheney in forensics.

Dear DI Bell,

R V Raffique Khan

Further to your request of a search of the DNA data base, I confirm that we have found the identity of the father of Yasmeen’s child.

His name is Rory Freeman, a member of the extreme left-wing organisation Socialism Today, with a string of public order offences to his name. But more interesting are the three years he served for stabbing his pregnant wife.

Regards,

Nathan Cheney

It was dated two days ago. This was crucial information in the Khan case and Bell was sitting on it.

Lilly felt sick. She had polished off another mint Aero and a family bag of M&Ms. She burped ruefully.

‘You OK?’

Jack smiled from the doorway.

‘What happened to you?’ she gasped at the sight of his bruised and bleeding cheek.

‘Malik didn’t want to miss the final of
Strictly Come Dancing
.’

Lilly sighed. She’d been ready to have it out with him. Tell him that she knew all about his bottle blonde. But the sheer exhaustion in his eyes, coupled with the injury, made her shy away. After a day like today he needed to rest.

‘You should go to bed,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘I just wanted to give you this.’ He handed a letter to her.

She read it. ‘Should you be doing this?’ she asked.

‘It’s a complete breach of police protocol,’ he said, ‘but I’m past caring.’

She reached for her coat.

‘Where are you going now?’ he asked.

‘To ask the Khans if they’ve ever heard of Rory Freeman.’

Anwar gasped.

‘Is everything OK?’

Lilly imagined how she looked with her blistered forehead, her singed hair, her smoke-stained jacket. Saira and Mrs Khan stared at her in horror.

‘There was a fire,’ she said.

Mrs Khan screamed something in Urdu. It was the first time she had shown any emotion—that in itself startled Lilly.

‘Raffy dead?’ Mrs Khan’s accent was strong but there was no mistaking her fear.

Lilly realised how this must look. She had arrived unannounced, late at night, looking like shit, talking about a fire. Of course the poor woman feared the worse.

She shook her head furiously. ‘No, Mrs Khan, Raffy’s fine.’

Saira led her mother to the sofa, where the woman sat, shaking uncontrollably.

‘It’s OK,’ Saira soothed. ‘Everything’s OK.’

Lilly bent low and took the old woman’s hand. ‘The fire was at a farm. The PTF tried to kill the girl they kidnapped.’

‘Not Raffy?’ Mrs Khan’s eyes were stricken.

‘No,’ Lilly whispered, ‘not Raffy.’

Anwar slumped next to his mother. Lilly noticed he too was shaking.

‘I’m sorry to have given you all such a fright,’ said Lilly.

Anwar nodded and gave her a weak smile.

‘It’s just that some very important information came my way and I needed to speak to you about it,’ she said.

The Khans looked up at her wearily. She couldn’t blame them.

‘Does the name Rory Freeman mean anything to you?’

‘No,’ said Anwar.

Lilly looked into his eyes. ‘Give yourself a second to think about it.’

Anwar couldn’t return her gaze and instead stared at his hands.

‘Never heard of him.’

He’s lying, Lilly thought.

She looked at Saira, who was also playing with her fingers in discomfort. Only Mrs Khan met Lilly’s eyes.

‘Who is Roree?’

Lilly gulped. ‘He is the father of Yasmeen’s unborn child.’

A strangled noise came from Anwar’s throat. He coughed to clear it.

‘It’s possible that he killed Yasmeen,’ said Lilly.

The Khans sat in complete silence.

‘The police have tried to suppress this evidence and I want to go to court in the morning to explain the situation to the judge.’

‘Raffy coming home?’ asked Mrs Khan.

‘I can’t promise that,’ said Lilly, ‘but I will be requesting bail whilst we find out why the police have utterly ignored an obvious suspect. That’s why it’s important you tell me anything you know about this man.’

Anwar stood up. ‘Like I said, we’ve never heard of him.’

It was obvious Lilly was expected to leave.

Lilly nodded curtly and headed for the door. ‘I’m sorry to have bothered you.’

When Lilly got back into her car she stifled the urge to scream. What was wrong with these people? Raffy was fifteen and about to go down for a crime he didn’t commit. What were they covering up for that was worth letting him rot in gaol?

All around her were families hiding secrets. Secrets that they would keep hidden whatever the cost.

She had pushed her key into the ignition when her phone rang. She expected it to be Jack, but it was a number she didn’t recognise.

‘Lilly Valentine.’

No one spoke but Lilly could hear the caller breathing.

‘Who is this?’

Again no one answered.

Lilly’s heart began to beat hard. She looked around her. Was anyone there? Was she being watched? She stabbed central locking. The buttons clicked. No one could get in.

Lilly forced herself to sound braver than she felt. ‘Could you tell me who you are, please.’

More breathing.

‘If you don’t tell me who you are I shall hang up,’ Lilly gulped. ‘And I shall report this number to the police.’

More breathing.

‘Right,’ said Lilly.

‘Saira,’ said the caller, as Lilly was about to snap her phone shut. ‘It’s Saira Khan.’

Lilly’s heart quietened. ‘Saira? Why on earth didn’t you say anything?’

‘I wasn’t sure I should.’

‘And now?’

‘Now I’m just trying to consider Raffy,’ said Saira.

Lilly paused. Saira clearly wanted to tell Lilly something but felt she shouldn’t.

‘You sound torn,’ said Lilly.

A sob sounded in Saira’s throat.

‘It’s always hard when you feel you have to make a choice,’ said Lilly.

‘And how do you know what is right?’ asked Saira.

Lilly sighed. How did you know? ‘You don’t know for sure, but there are some things that can never be right.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like letting Raffy take the rap for something he didn’t do.’

The girl sniffed into the phone.

Lilly knew she had to tread carefully but she needed the information. ‘So what do you want to tell me, Saira?’

‘I want to tell you,’ she stumbled over her words, ‘I mean, I want to say that I do know Rory Freeman.’

Lilly closed her eyes. She’d been right.

‘And you knew he was Yasmeen’s boyfriend?’

‘I suspected—well, we all did.’

‘Did she say anything to you?’

‘No, she could never have admitted that. It would have killed Mum,’ said Saira.

Lilly bit her lip. Yasmeen had been young and impressionable, Rory violent. If she had felt able to confide in her family perhaps this tragedy could have been averted.

Secrets and lies. They never did anyone any good.

Mark Cormack slammed the CD into the player. He was desperate for a fag and his hand hovered over the packet.

Not a moment too soon, Paul McKenna’s voice floated around the car, urging him to think positive thoughts. Cormack closed his eyes and listened.

The trouble was, Paul bleeding McKenna hadn’t spent all day trying to get the woman on her own. He hadn’t wandered up and down the corridors of Accident and Emergency, side-stepping some stroppy matron. In the
end, she’d stalked right up to him, her nostrils flaring, a bowl of what looked like piss, slopping in her hands.

‘Can I ask what you’re doing here?’ she’d barked.

‘Waiting for the missus,’ he said. ‘She knocked herself out opening the garage door. Claret everywhere.’

The nurse raised an eyebrow.

‘In fact,’ said Cormack, ‘I’ll pop down to the shop and get her a box of chocolates.’

Now he was pissed off. He hadn’t got the job done. And, God, did he want a fag.

Tomorrow he would do this thing.

Lilly pulled her robe around her. Outside the sun was shining but in the cell area of the Crown Court the air was stale and cold.

‘I’m going to tell the judge that Rory Freeman is the most likely person to have killed Yasmeen,’ she told Raffy, ‘and that the police have deliberately covered that up.’

She thought he might lose his temper, start a rant about their corruption. That the whole thing was institutionalised racism. Instead he just sat in his wheelchair, his feet still encased in bandages. He looked very young.

‘I’m going to say that the police must investigate further and that your case should be dismissed.’

‘Will he agree to that?’

Lilly smiled. ‘I don’t know for sure, but he’ll certainly want more information about Freeman and I’ll ask for bail in the meantime.’

Raffy’s eyes widened. ‘I’m going home?’

‘I hope so.’

He seemed in shock, as if he couldn’t take in what she was telling him.

‘Saira is going to give evidence about Freeman,’ she said.

‘Saira?’

Lilly nodded. ‘Even though she can’t say he killed Yasmeen, she can say her sister was troubled, that something wasn’t right between her and Rory.’

A shadow flashed across Raffy’s face. ‘I don’t think she should get involved.’

‘She wants to,’ Lilly smiled.

‘You don’t understand…’

Lilly held up her hand. ‘I understand that she’s kept quiet this long because of her desire to protect your mother and the family.’

Tears filled Raffy’s eyes. Lilly touched his hand.

‘Now she wants to protect you.’

When Raffy looked up Lilly saw fear in his eyes.

‘Anyone but Saira,’ he whispered.

Lilly understood that after what had happened to Yasmeen he wanted to keep his other sister far away from all this. He wanted to prevent this horror from touching her.

‘I know how you feel about Saira,’ she said, ‘but just trust me.’

Lilly made her way up to court room one. The stairs seemed twice as steep. She held the rail with one hand and put her other in the small of her back. It had been aching since she arrived, in short uncomfortable waves.

For God’s sake, she was heavily pregnant, she should be at home with her feet up.

‘Bad day at the office, dear?’

Taslima was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. She had a hijab on but the dressing peeped through. Her right hand was also fully wrapped.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘Nice to see you too, boss,’ Taslima smiled.

Lilly lumbered over and hugged her assistant, hard.

‘I mean you should be tucked up in bed.’

‘Stop fussing.’ Taslima waved her hand. ‘Anyway, you don’t look marvellous yourself.’

Lilly laughed. What with her blisters and frazzled hair, and now Taslima wrapped up like a mummy, they looked ridiculous. No wonder the guy in the corner was staring at them. Wait till Raffy was wheeled into the dock—then he really would have something to gawk at.

As the man realised she’d spotted him, he picked up a paper and buried himself behind it.

‘I can’t believe the police didn’t tell us about Freeman,’ said Taslima.

‘How did you know about that?’

‘Jack told me.’

When the man thought Lilly wasn’t looking, he stared at her again. Something in his gaze troubled her. He no longer seemed to be enjoying the show, rather he seemed to be appraising her, as if he were working something through in his mind. Perhaps she was just edgy about the hearing.

‘When did you see Jack?’ she asked Taslima.

‘He’s here,’ said Taslima, and pointed to a figure at the far end of the corridor.

Lilly looked up at Jack and nodded. He did the same.

There was going to be a pitched battle between Lilly
and the police, and she knew he couldn’t be seen to be taking her side. It suited Lilly this way. She didn’t want to be distracted by thoughts of the blonde and her texts.

She risked another glance at the man. He was doing something with his phone, holding it out in front of him.

‘You OK?’ Taslima asked.

Lilly wasn’t sure. Something about the way the man was holding out the phone bothered her.

‘Nothing,’ she said, ‘just my back killing me.’

Taslima put an arm around Lilly’s shoulders. ‘Let’s do it.’

Cormack took a quick photo of the woman. She was standing with the other one outside court.

This was absolutely not an ideal place to do this, but there was no way he could wait any longer. He sent the picture to the Pakis, to show them he had her in his sights. And to give them the opportunity to call it off.

Within second he received a reply.

Do it.

‘Court rise.’

Lilly pushed herself to her feet. A sudden burst of pain shot into her spine and she gasped.

Taslima put her hand over hers.

The judge pursed his brow at Lilly’s dishevelled appearance. ‘Miss Valentine?’

Lilly bowed awkwardly, wincing in pain. ‘Your Honour.’

He looked up as the guards wheeled in Raffy. His eyes went from Raffy, to Lilly, then to Taslima, his expression growing ever more puzzled.

‘Miss Valentine, are you and your client well?’

Lilly thought about it. Raffy had been attacked by a Nazi, Lilly herself had been almost burned alive and as for Taslima, the image of her clinging to the chimney was branded on her brain.

‘I think the saying goes, Your Honour, that we are as well as can be expected.’