The Front (36 page)

       
Jackson’s heart slowed to normal. ‘Are you saying you already know her?’

       
‘Not know her, exactly,’ Mrs Lilley explained almost apologetically. ‘But I’ve certainly seen her going to and from the shops. It’s hard not to notice the regulars when my window overlooks the only route from the main road. I would venture to say I’m ninety-nine per cent certain, but I don’t know if that’s good enough?’

       
Jackson smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s good enough for us to find out who she is and have her questioned. If she is our girl, we’ll soon work it out. Please don’t think you’ve let us down. You’ve been very helpful.’

       
‘Oh dear,’ Mrs Lilley sighed almost regretfully. ‘I hope I’m wrong. She seems such a pleasant girl. Whereas I’m afraid the same can’t be said for her friend!’

       
‘Oh?’ said Jackson. ‘You mean the blonde?’

       
‘Mmmm,’ Mrs Lilley murmured, pursing her lips. ‘Unpleasant girl. Spends a lot of time hanging about at the back of the shops with a very unruly mob. Until recently, that is. Probably all the police activity has chased them away for the time being.’

       
‘And you’re quite sure she’s not the girl you saw there that night?’ Jackson asked.

       
‘Not at that time.’ Mrs Lilley shook her head. ‘Earlier, yes. She was sitting on the wall at the side with her friends. They were drinking and smoking and making a racket, as usual. In fact, there was an altercation between them and Mr Singh.’

       
‘An altercation?’

       
‘Oh yes, quite noisy too. Lots of shouting, some pushing and shoving. As I said, they’re very unpleasant characters, and that was certainly not the first time they’d been aggressive towards Mr Singh.’

       
‘What time would that have been?’ Jackson asked.

       
‘Ten o’clock,’ she told him confidently. ‘The news was just coming on and I missed the first ten minutes because of all the shouting. I’m sure if you ask Mr Singh’s nephews they’ll be able to give you more details.’

       
‘They were there?’

       
‘Oh yes. They came out and chased them away. They’d probably know who they are, because, as I said, it wasn’t the first time.’

       
Jackson made a mental note to visit the supermarket on the way back to the station. It was a bit of a coincidence that these two girls were together the morning after the murder, when one had been involved in a scuffle with the dead man the night before and the other was supposedly spotted going into the yard very late on the same night. This was starting to take shape, and he wanted to be sure he’d covered every possibility.

       
‘I wonder if you’d look at some cars now?’ he asked Mrs Lilley when he’d finished jotting his notes. ‘With luck, there should be one that’s similar to the one you saw that night.’

       
Mrs Lilley pored over each of the pages Paul Dalton had ripped from his magazines, then pointed out two cars that she thought were very like the silver one.

       
Jackson tipped Paul a wink. They were both BMWs, as he’d suggested. One was a 325, the other a 318. So similar that it was understandable she couldn’t pinpoint exactly which model she’d seen. As for the darker car, she wasn’t certain, but thought it looked like a Ford Escort. The only problem she had was that the ones in the pictures looked much plainer than the one she’d seen. Jackson was delighted. Even without knowing the exact makes, it narrowed the range down considerably. It would make their work so much easier.

       
Next he showed her the mug books, but this didn’t go quite so well. Page after page of photos of criminals, but none that Mrs Lilley felt sure enough about identifying to be significant. All she could say about the three men she had seen running away from the supermarket after the shots had been fired was that one was very broad and tall, another was shorter but still quite well built, and the third a fair deal shorter. And she was pretty sure they were white, whereas the man in the silver car was black.

       
‘I’m so sorry I can’t be more helpful,’ she apologized. ‘I’m much surer of the girl because she was alone, and she stood right outside my window. I wouldn’t even like to hazard a guess if one of the men in your books was one of the men I saw. I’m sorry.’

       
‘Don’t be,’ Jackson said quickly. ‘You’ve been a tremendous help. I only wish all of our witnesses were as astute as you. You’ve given us a lot more than we expected.’

‘Canny old bird,’ Mac said as they left the home. ‘Shame she has to spend the last days of her life stuck in that rat-hole. Must be hell when your mind’s as sharp as a pin. Still, a few days in court will give her something to occupy her.’

       
‘Mmmm.’ Jackson nodded towards Paul. ‘But as me laddo here was only too quick to point out – only if she lasts as long as it takes us to catch these scummy little shits and get them to court! I don’t know,’ he went on, sighing long and hard. ‘Eighty-nine. And we’re not that far behind, Mac. Will you visit me when I’m stuck in a place like that?’

       
‘No way!’ Mac retorted. ‘I’ll be long gone. But you’re the Dragon Master. Don’t you possess the secret of eternal life or something?’

       
Paul’s foot pressed down harder on the accelerator with shock when he heard them joking about the nickname the lads had given Jackson. He felt the blush suffuse his face in a burning wave.

       
Jackson nudged him. ‘Like I said . . . I know everything! Now, pull in round the front of the supermarket.’

Guptar Singh felt a stirring of panic in his gut when the three officers walked in. He was dreading the day they discovered the other business his uncle had been running. And even though he knew he had scoured every inch of the shop and found no leftover drugs, he could almost feel the handcuffs snapping into place as Jackson approached him.

       
‘Good afternoon, Mr Singh. I wonder if we could have a quick word?’

       
Guptar glanced at a couple of customers who had stopped shopping to blatantly gawp at the scene. ‘Just let me call my brother and we can go through to the stockroom,’ he said, adding pointedly, ‘It’ll be more private back there.’

       
He went to the door off to the side of the counter and called through. Seconds later, Raj appeared and took over. Guptar led them through to the back of the store.

       
‘Business good?’ Jackson asked on the way, more out of politeness than any real interest.

       
‘Been a bit slow, actually,’ Guptar said. ‘But it’s the recession, isn’t it? Businesses are closing up all over the place.’

       
Jackson raised an eyebrow. ‘Can’t be that bad,’ he said, looking pointedly at the expensive colour monitor and recording machine showing a crystal-clear image of the shop floor.

       
And then there was the new jeep Guptar’s uncle had recently acquired. Not to mention the brand new Mercedes van. Or the luxury detached house with all mod cons Jackson had visited after the murder.

       
Walking slowly around the stockroom, peering nonchalantly into cartons, he said, ‘Is this your only business, Mr Singh?’

       
Guptar was visibly agitated by the questioning, which Jackson thought suspicious in itself.

       
‘No. We’ve another shop in Moss Side.’

       
‘Same as this?’

       
‘Smaller,’ said Guptar, glancing nervously at Mac and Paul Dalton standing in the doorway. ‘Look, what is this, Inspector? Why are you asking these questions? I hoped you’d come to tell us you’d caught whoever murdered my uncle.’

       
‘Unfortunately not,’ Jackson replied, sitting on the edge of the desk beside the monitor. ‘But I
do
have some questions regarding the night of the murder.’

       
‘I’ll be glad to tell you what I know,’ Guptar said. ‘But I’m afraid I don’t have too long to spare. I’ve dragged my brother away from his work to cover for me as it is.’

       
‘Oh, it won’t take long,’ Jackson drawled. ‘Now then, on the night in question, at approximately ten p.m., I believe there was a confrontation between your uncle and a gang of local youths?’

       
Guptar nodded, folding his arms. ‘That’s right. But it wasn’t anything, really. Just some kids getting lippy. We got rid of them easily enough.’

       
Jackson made a note on his pad. ‘Could you be a bit more specific, sir? What exactly do you mean by “lippy” for example? Were they threatening your uncle?’

       
‘No, nothing like that,’ said Guptar. ‘They’re always doing it. They come in and buy their beer, then sit out back drinking it. And when they start getting drunk, they think it’s funny to knock on the back door and shout things. You know what kids are like. It’s not serious.’

       
‘Shouting things?’

       
‘You know, the usual. “Piss off back to Paki-land”, “Paki bastards” – the usual rubbish.’

       
‘So they’ve never threatened you or your family? Never said anything that worried or annoyed you?’

       
Guptar snorted. ‘If I got wound up by every piece of white trash that called us names, I’d be in an early grave!’

       
‘Like your uncle?’ said Jackson quietly.

       
‘Is this some kind of a joke?’ Guptar demanded. ‘You think my uncle was shot through the head by some kid, just because they called us names and we chased them away? They were always doing it! Don’t you think they’d have shot him before now if they were capable of that?’

       
‘Depends how angry they were about being chased away that particular time,’ Jackson countered.

       
‘They weren’t angry,’ another voice said. ‘They were laughing, as they usually were at the climax of their night. They knew what would happen, just as it did every other time. It was a game to them. Cat and mouse.’

       
Jackson hadn’t heard Ranjit come in. He acknowledged him with a nod, waiting until he’d put down the boxes he was carrying before asking, ‘I believe you were also here when this gang was arguing with your uncle? Is there anything you can add? Your brother doesn’t think it was in any way related to the murder a few hours later.’

       
‘Neither do I,’ said Ranjit, wiping his hands on a small towel. ‘They’re just kids who got a kick out of winding my uncle up, that’s all.’

       
Jackson pulled the print of the two girls together from the folder and held it out towards Ranjit. ‘Do you recognize either of these girls?’

       
‘Yes, both of them.’ Ranjit nodded. ‘The blonde’s part of the gang we were just talking about, and the other’s a regular customer. Why? What have they got to do with anything?’

       
‘Do you know their names, or where they live?’

       
‘The blonde’s called Elaine,’ Ranjit told him. ‘She lives with one of the lads in the gang. Tommy, I think his name is, but I’m not sure. They’ve got a flat in Trent Court, the flats across the way. You don’t think she had anything to do with this, do you?’

       
‘What about the other girl?’ Jackson asked, ignoring the question.

       
‘Em, Susan, or Suzanne, something like that,’ Ranjit said. ‘She lives somewhere over that side.’ He pointed through the back wall in the direction of the Crescents. ‘Nice girl, very polite.’ He handed the print back. ‘But I still don’t understand why you’re interested in them.’

       
‘I’m not, not specifically,’ said Jackson guardedly. ‘I’m just trying to fit some pieces together.’

       
‘Yeah! Adding one and one and coming up with five, instead of chasing the people responsible!’ Guptar butted in angrily.

       
‘I assure you we’re doing everything we can to trace whoever murdered your uncle, Mr Singh,’ Jackson snapped at him. ‘And in doing so, we have to follow up every lead, however small.’

       
‘And you’re saying one of those leads has led you to investigate these girls?’ Ranjit interjected, eager to clarify the matter in his own mind – and shut his excitable brother up at the same time.

       
Jackson pushed himself to his feet. ‘No, Mr Singh. I’m not saying we’re investigating them. I’m saying it’s been drawn to my attention that one of them was involved in an argument with your uncle on the night he was murdered. To eliminate her, I need to question her. Nothing more sinister than that. I’m hoping she may be able to tell us if she saw anyone suspicious hanging about at the time.’

       
The explanation was plausible and both Guptar and Ranjit settled visibly as they accepted it. Jackson was relieved. The last thing he wanted was for the family to think they were accusing the girls. That could be very tricky. He knew they’d be out for revenge when they found out who it was, and it was his job to keep such information from them until they had their suspect – or suspects – safely locked up.

       
‘Well, I won’t take up any more of your time, gentlemen,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as we have anything to tell you, and please don’t hesitate to contact me if you hear anything. Good afternoon.’

       
He inclined his head to the men and walked towards the door. Reaching for the handle, he stopped and turned back.

       
‘Oh, by the way – just out of interest, where did you say your other shop was?’