Blood of the Innocents (12 page)

Cox himself was small and weedy, as unhealthy as a plant starved of natural light, as if he never ventured out of his dark and dingy lair. Balding slightly, he was pale as uncooked pastry and the amber-coloured stain on the index finger of his right hand tallied with the pile of home-rolled dog-ends in the makeshift ashtray. ‘How can I help you, Officers?’ he asked politely, with what sounded more than anything like bored resignation.

‘Just a simple question,’ said Mariner. ‘Where were you on Tuesday afternoon at around four forty-five?’

‘Now, why would you want to know that?’ But before they could answer, he laughed out loud. ‘This is about that little Paki, isn’t it?’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Dear me, you must be desperate if you’ve come to me about that.’

‘Her family seems to be on the mailing list for your enlightening pamphlets.’

‘I hardly think that’s significant. We have an extensive target audience.’

‘And David Waldron, one of your party members, was caught inflicting damage on property in the area.’

‘As I said at the time, I can’t be responsible for the actions of all our members. All I do is provide a forum for like-minded people to share their views and concerns.’

‘In the same way that the National Socialist Party of Germany provided a forum?’

‘I repeat, Waldron was acting independently. I had nothing to do with any of that.’

‘Until Mohammed Akram brought your name into it. He said some not very nice things about you publicly, some highly provocative things.’

‘Do you seriously think a bit of name-calling’s going to bother me? It’s what you get when you’re prepared to stand up for what you believe in. Goes with the territory. Our territory.’ He noticed Knox looking around. ‘Want to search the house, do you?’

‘It would help us to—’

‘Well, you’ll need a warrant and a fucking good reason,’ Cox said, mildly.

‘So maybe you could answer the question, just for the record.’

But disappointingly, Cox did have an alibi, and a fairly unassailable one at that: at the crucial time he’d been speaking at a meeting of ‘like-minded people’ in Walsall. He travelled on the train. And if, as he said, the meeting didn’t end until four thirty, it would have been practically impossible for him to have been anywhere near Yasmin Akram when she disappeared. It would be easy enough to verify.

‘It still doesn’t mean that he hasn’t put someone else up to it,’ Mariner said to Knox, as they traipsed back along the street.

‘Mm.’ Knox grunted.

Back at the car Mariner saw he had a message on his mobile. He rang back. It was Millie. ‘I’ve got a name for you. Fakhra has coughed up the identity of that disgruntled parent: a guy called Abdul Sheron. Oh and another thing—’ Suddenly she sounded uncomfortable. ‘DCI Fiske is organising a press conference.’

‘Police Constable Khatoon should get her facts straight before she comes bleating to you.’ Pacing the floor of his office, DCI Fiske was angry. Very angry, if the colour of his face was anything to go by. Even so he seemed keen to defend his actions, Mariner thought with some satisfaction. ‘I am not organising a press conference, I have merely indicated to the press that one is imminent, and asked the TV station to be on standby.’

‘Which, with respect, sir, is as good as declaring it where the media are concerned,’ said Mariner, seriously wondering if Fiske was beginning to lose it already. More than accustomed to keeping the press at bay, he’d never had to fend off an over-zealous commanding officer before. ‘The timing of press conferences is crucial and I’d have preferred to hold it when I was ready. If you want me to continue as SIO then I need to be able to do things my way.’ His powers of diplomacy were being stretched to the limit.

‘That seems to involve doing very little, as far as I can make out. This case is developing a high profile—’

Yes, and who have we to thank for that? thought Mariner.

‘We need to be seen to be acting. We should be looking at running a reconstruction, too. People expect it.’

That was the problem with having all these bloody crime programmes on TV. The public thought they knew better how to do the job. ‘It’s much too soon. We’re following up outside leads, and after a week, we’ll get someone to walk the route to encourage any new witnesses to come forward, but we can’t discount Yasmin’s family and immediate friends yet. We already know that the parents aren’t telling us everything.’

‘So having them in for a press conference would provide you with an opportunity. TV cameras are an excellent way of stripping away any pretence.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Mariner turned to go, thinking that in some cases just the opposite was true. ‘And maybe, sometime, you could go over that egg sucking thing with me again, sir,’ he murmured under his breath.

‘Let’s bring them in,’ Mariner said to Jamilla on his return to the office.

‘Any particular way you want me to steer things, sir?’

‘No, save that for afterwards. Keep it all light and conversational on the journey in. That way, Akram’s guard won’t be up - if it needs to be.’

 

As the Senior Investigating Officer, Mariner had no choice but to accompany Fiske at the appeal, which passed in a blur of flash-bulbs and quick-fire questions. Afterwards, he, Knox and Millie watched the playback. Mohammed Akram was calm and dignified while even his wife, clinging to her husband for support, remained composed, despite the obvious strain. She seemed smaller than she’d looked two days ago, as if she’d lost about half a stone, and all of it from around her face, where the skin was pale and sagging. Mohammed Akram did all the talking, reading from the prepared statement he’d been given by the press officer, appealing to Yasmin to come home, or to anyone who may be holding her to please let her go. Throughout, his voice was clear and steady, his gaze straight into the camera.

‘He’s a cool one,’ Mariner conceded.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ said Millie. She was right to be cautious. Even when parents had made an emotional public appeal for the return of their offspring, they could-n’t be eliminated from the enquiry. Distress and guilt had the habit of manifesting themselves in very similar ways and in recent years, increasing numbers of murderers had successfully, at least for a while, concealed one with the other.

Before being returned home, the Akrams were taken into a side room and offered refreshments. Having fielded the inevitable questions from reporters, Mariner went to talk to them. Two sets of eyes turned hopefully on him as he went into the room. He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, there’s nothing new. But I do need to clarify a couple of things with you.’

‘Anything,’ said Akram, looking shaken now that the ordeal was over.

‘We’ve spoken to Yasmin’s friends and I understand that you were not entirely happy about Yasmin staying the night with Suzanne.’

Mohammed Akram responded instantly. ‘It was nothing. It was the kind of thing every parent and child goes through.’

‘Is that why it didn’t seem important enough to mention?’ asked Mariner. ‘I must impress on you that anything out of the ordinary, however small, could be of help. Tell me what happened exactly.’

‘Yasmin asked to go and stay with her friend, overnight. I said no.’

‘Why was that?’

‘It was a school night and she would have homework. It was inappropriate.’ More to it than that, but Mariner wouldn’t push it now. Was Akram just trying to be diplomatic about his dislike of Suzanne, or was it power games between Mum and Dad?

He looked from one to the other parent. ‘So am I to understand that Yasmin was defying you by going to Suzanne’s?’

‘She was defying me, not her mother.’ Akram glanced at his wife. ‘After I had left the house on Tuesday morning, Shanila allowed Yasmin to go.’ The accusation was there along with the obvious source of that additional tension.

Shanila Akram made a weak show of sticking up for herself. ‘Yasmin was threatening to go to Suzanne’s anyway. I thought it much better that she should go with our blessing than deceive us. I thought if she was allowed to go once she would get it out of her system.’

‘So you encouraged her to collude with you in deception. ’ Mohammed Akram’s anger was building.

But his wife was equal to it. ‘I would have told you when you returned.’

‘Do you approve of Suzanne, Mr Akram?’ Mariner asked. There followed enough of a hesitation to confirm the antagonism that existed there.

‘It’s not a question of approval.’

‘Then what is it?’

‘You went to see Yasmin’s friends. You’ve met Suzanne?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you’ll know that she is very different from Yasmin.’ Full marks for tact.

‘And does that bother you?’

‘As we’ve already told you, Yasmin is relatively inexperienced at life. It would be easy for her to be influenced by a stronger, more . . . worldly personality, someone who has different values.’

‘So you’ve discouraged the friendship.’

‘We have been realistic. We can’t prevent Yasmin from mixing with whoever she wants to at school. Let’s just say that we haven’t done anything to encourage it.’

‘How does Yasmin feel about that?’

‘Kids get angry, you know, especially if they can’t get their way.’

‘She said—’ Shanila Akram stopped abruptly.

‘What did she say, Mrs Akram?’

‘She said we might regret it if we tried to prevent her from doing things.’

‘Like staying with her friends. So then, Mrs Akram, you decided to allow Yasmin to go and stay with Suzanne.’

‘Yes.’ She addressed her husband. ‘I was concerned that we were being too strict on Yasmin and that she might rebel. I thought that once it had happened, when my husband saw no harm had been done and that Yasmin appreciated the gesture, it would be for the best.’

‘For the best? How can you possibly say that now? Look at what has happened. Now we have no idea where Yasmin has gone.’

‘Of course I can see that now, but at the time—’ Mrs Akram’s eyes filled with tears. Her husband reacted with a contemptuous snort.

‘How did Yasmin react when you told her she
could
go to stay with Suzanne after all?’ Mariner pushed on, keen to maintain the momentum.

‘She was excited, happy. She hugged me. But I know she was mindful of her dad’s feelings, too.’

‘Mindful how? Do you think Yasmin really intended to stay with Suzanne, or could she have decided to get back at you for making life difficult for her? Could she have run away?’

Akram was unequivocal. ‘Yasmin isn’t like that. Even if she was still angry she wouldn’t take it this far. If she decided to punish us it would be a gesture, that’s all. She would go somewhere safe; to someone within our family. I believe Yasmin thought of her duty to me, and was intending to come home. Something prevented her from doing so. Something has happened to her, Inspector, and I really think your time would be better spent out there looking for her instead of dissecting our family life. I don’t understand why you are persisting with this. I told you about the trouble we’ve been having. Why aren’t you talking to Peter Cox?’

‘We are following that line of enquiry, but we have to ensure that all possibilities are covered. Tell me about Abdul Sheron.’

‘How did you know about him?’

‘That doesn’t really matter. Just tell me.’

‘Abdul is an old friend.Things have been a little strained because we felt that we couldn’t meet the needs of his youngest child in our school. It can be hard to accept but it is for the good of the child.’

‘I understand he was angry about that.’

‘At first he was, yes, and that was to be expected. His daughter has lots of problems and it is hard. But our families have known each other for years. Abdul would not do anything to hurt us. It’s out of the question.’

And on that note, Mariner allowed Millie to take them home.

‘What do you think?’ Mariner asked Knox after they’d gone.

‘He’s working very hard at trying to steer us towards the racist angle,’ said Knox with rare lucidity.

‘And away from anything else? My thoughts exactly.’

 

As a follow up, Mariner had suggested a few directions for Millie to take with the ‘informal conversation’ on the way back, and was waiting for a debrief when she returned to the station.

‘What else did you find out?’

‘About as much as I would if I’d been making a social call. But I do think Shanila is beginning to open up and talk to me more as if I was a friend of the family than a police officer.’

‘Surely that can be far more productive.’

‘Sometimes. Depends on how much they decide to patronise me and how much they disapprove of my role.’

‘What do you think?’

‘They still hold a fairly traditional view of the female role. Not outright disapproval, but probably not what they’d want for their girls.’

‘Yasmin’s older sister lives abroad?’

‘Yes, we talked about her; she was married earlier this year, apparently.’

‘Fairly recently then. And how often does she see Yasmin?’

‘Quite often, according to Mum and Dad. Her husband is a successful lawyer and travels extensively. They were over here just a few weeks ago.’

‘Was it an arranged marriage?’

‘Sounds like it, in that the two families already knew each other and the match was obviously approved by both sets of parents.’

‘Might Yasmin have wanted to escape from that scenario?’

‘It depends on how strictly they follow it through. Arranged marriage is not always a bad thing. Usually these days, the son or daughter has the right of veto. This couple are a mix, like their dress: her in traditional, him in Western. On the one hand, Shanila Akram seems very Western and liberal, but at the same time I get the impression that Mohammed likes to keep Yasmin on a tight rein.’