Last request, p.13
Last Request, page 13
part #1 of DS Nikita Parekh Series
With heavy steps, Nikki approached what remained of her husband.
He was laid out, all his bones intact. Langley had given her the details of his injuries, so putting her detective’s hat on, she let her gaze run down the skeleton. It could have been anyone, but it wasn’t. It was Khal – her Khal. He was diminished. No matter how delicately he’d been placed, no matter how respectfully he’d been looked after, all that was in front of her now was a pile of bones.
A wave of caustic liquid seared her throat. She swallowed it down, feeling the secondary nipping.
Breathing in through her nose, long and slow, she settled herself. She could almost pretend it wasn’t Khal, that it was some other poor sod … almost, but not quite. It took everything she had to study what was left of him. Moving closer, she focused on picking out the marks and etchings Langley had outlined. As she studied them, she tried to imagine what could have made them. Khalid must have been terrified. Did he cry out for her? Did he beg for mercy? The assumption was that they’d been made when he was alive – what else could they assume? That’s how most sick fuckers got off. They’d documented at least twelve puncture sites, but, when pushed, Langley admitted there could have been more – many more –that hadn’t hit the bone.
Leaning over she whispered, ‘Hi Khal, it’s me.’
Raising her hand, she traced her finger over his forehead, his eye sockets, across his cheek bones and his grotesque gaping mouth. They were cold and hard to the touch, yet as her fingers moved, she thought back to the times she’d done this in the past. He’d been warm and vibrant then – full of life – living and breathing. Who had reduced him to this?
Inside her, the angry vat of acid erupted again and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She lifted a hand and roughly wiped them away, but the gesture was futile, for no sooner had she done so, than they were replaced by more. ‘I’m sorry, Khal. I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known.’
Her legs wobbled and, scared that they would no longer hold her weight, she slumped onto the chair that Langley had placed next to the trolley. Fifteen years she’d believed he’d let her down. For fifteen years she’d betrayed him by accepting his deceit so readily. What sort of wife had she been? For weeks, he’d been struggling – she’d been all too aware of it. The pressure exerted on him by his father had taken its toll, left him looking gaunt and drawn. The shouted conversations in Arabic, followed by periods of withdrawal, made him distant. His need to find work to supplement their income after his father withdrew the financial help Khalid had been so used to, left him exhausted. Restaurant work till the early hours of the morning followed by full days struggling to complete his final year dissertation meant there was little time to discuss things.
Nikki had delayed her entry to police training when she discovered her pregnancy, yet she hadn’t told him the real reason. Instead, she’d taken a job as front of house staff at the National Media Museum. Things had been strained. They were keeping secrets from each other and look what it had led to.
She pulled her chair closer and rested her hand on his arm. ‘I promise you that I will find out who did this to you. Whoever deprived you of your life, of seeing your daughter, I will make them pay.’
Sitting quietly in the dimmed lights, Nikki allowed her thoughts to drift back to their time together. For so long she’d denied herself the memories, forcing them behind a locked door in the recesses of her mind. Marking them out of bounds. Now, she opened the door and they tumbled out like a flash flood.
‘You’ve got a daughter, Khal. She’s beautiful and smart. She’s got your eyes – she looks so much like you it hurts. You’d love her. She takes no shit from anyone and she protects her family. Don’t know yet who’ll get to decide what happens to you now, Khal, but if it’s me, I’ll do what we always agreed. I promise. You’ll stay here, close to me and Charlie. I won’t let you go again.’
Afterwards Nikki sat with Langley, sipping coffee. He hadn’t commented on her red cheeks or smudged mascara; a fact Nikki would be eternally grateful to him for – she hated fuss. Langley wouldn’t share this with Sajid, she was sure. Nikki took a deep breath. She couldn’t lose focus now. Couldn’t be distracted by imagining things that might never have happened. She needed to lock those thoughts away for now. She could drag them out one night when this was all over – in the relative security of her bedroom, on her own. Instead, Langley just sat with her, inputting information into his computer, answering emails and the like.
The regular tap of the keyboard and the sounds of the building settling down for the night, quiet now most of the staff had gone, were therapeutic. It allowed Nikki the space to regroup. Had it only been this morning, just a few hours ago that she’d discovered that the husband she thought had deserted her was dead? So much had happened. Haqib, the Springer and Bashir incident, Archie – and she hadn’t had a chance to touch base with the only person who really mattered in all of this: Charlie. As usual she’d left it for her mum and Marcus to take up the slack, whilst she went on trying to fight the world. Why were things always so damn hard? Why did she always find it so hard to deal with the emotional side of things? Khal had always teased her about that – about how she’d rather brood than talk, sort it out for herself. He always said she internalised too much and that was why she was so loyal to her family and the few friends she had. He’d stayed for longer than first impressions, looked deeper, saw her strength. Nikki thought that was a load of romantic old bollocks; she, the moody cow, just didn’t like many people and that suited her. Khal had laughed and shaken his head.
Why was it that she missed him more than ever now? Why, after all these years was it as if her heart were a pomegranate being squeezed with every emotion popping out, seed after blood-red seed? This little hiatus in the morgue was bittersweet. Khal was nearby. She could think without the constant noise and chaos that was her normal life, yet guilt plagued her. Guilt about Khal, guilt for Charlie. She reasoned that giving herself the time to adjust would mean she could be there for her daughter. She had a lot of explaining to do. But the puddle of curdling milk in the pit of her stomach told her she was being selfish – was putting it off because of her own weakness, her own inability to be the mother that Charlie deserved. She’d just about got herself in the right frame of mind and was ready to leave, when her phone went and within minutes, she had left the morgue. One day she would slow down and draw breath.
Chapter 26
Parked in the street outside Jacko Dyer’s house in Wyke, Nikki considered her options. She could march along the road and up the crazy-paved path and hammer on the door, hoping all the while that Jacko’s sister was at the bingo or she could do what her conscience told her she should and turn the car round and head home. This could wait till morning, but Charlie couldn’t. Even as she considered this, she was half out the car, ignoring the rain that drove, almost horizontally, against her body. She half jogged, half shuffled forwards, head dipped against the wind. The lights were on in both the living room and the kitchen. Peering past the bedraggled window pots with the last of the summer’s blooms inside, she tried to see through the slight chink in the closed curtains. No use. Short of going right up and gawping through, she wouldn’t be able to see a thing.
Oh well, I’ll just have to risk it. She stepped up and hammered on the door before taking a single pace back and waiting. She was wet through. Her jeans clung to her legs and her hair in its ponytail dripped onto her leather jacket. From inside the sound of whistling – Jacko’s trademark – approached and it wasn’t long before the door was flung open.
Jacko yanked the door open wider. ‘You took your time. I expected you hours ago.’
Nikki frowned as she stepped inside, then the furrow on her brow cleared. ‘The news?’
‘Yep. Looks like we all got it wrong about Khal.’
For some reason, his words pulled at Nikki’s heart and a prickle jabbed at the back of her eyes. She sniffed and shrugged out of her sodden jacket, handing it to Jacko, who wordlessly took it from her shaking hands and draped it over a radiator in the hallway.
‘You okay, Nik?’
Standing in the middle of Jacko’s lobby, she allowed the warmth to seep back into her body for a second. She raised her head and saw that he was staring at her intently. His eyes were narrowed slightly, and his weathered face was wrinkled in concern. ‘I’m okay. A bit numb if anything.’
Jacko nodded, stepped forward and pulled her into his arms in a bear hug. ‘You look like a teenager, Nikki. Just like you did when you and Khal got it together.’
Nose pressed against his jumper, she laughed. ‘And the rest. I’m too old and tired and jaded to be that teenager again.’
She heard the smile in his voice when he replied, ‘You were always jaded, Nikki. Always just a little bit distant – always a little bit unobtainable. You had that faraway look in your eye, as if you had secrets that would pummel the rest of us – as if you held the weight of everything in your head.’
She laughed and pulled back a little, tipping her head backwards to look into his eyes, ‘You’re being fanciful. I was just a kid just like the rest of us – no more, no less.’
‘Aw, Nikki, Nikki, Nikki. You were never just like the rest of us – you were never just anything, you were always more. That’s why we loved you and the girls hated you.’
‘You mean Tess, don’t you?’
Jacko nodded to the door and Nikki took that to mean that Tess was out. ‘She never forgave you for Khal, that’s all.’
‘Tess fancied Khal?’ Nikki shook her head and exhaled. Why was she just being told this now, after all these years? ‘That’s why she hated me? Because I had Khal? Well – I didn’t have him for long, did I?’
Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket and with difficulty she extracted it. It would be Marcus again, telling her to come home. He was always so sensible, so responsible. But he never quite seemed to get Nikki’s passion – her need to keep active. If you keep moving, the bastards can’t mow you down. Khal used to say that to her and she’d never stopped moving since he left – she couldn’t, for if she did, then she’d have had to address her emotions. Now? Well, things were different now. The stakes had changed.
Jacko pulled her back into his body and she allowed his warmth to heat her. His coffee, minty scent was familiar as his strength seeped into her frozen bones. For once her stomach stopped jangling. She wasn’t being fair to Jacko. He loved her – always had – and she loved him too. Just not in the way he wanted. ‘I’m sorry …’
He pushed her away from his chest and placed a finger on her lips. ‘Ssh, Nik. I know. You don’t need to say it.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t expect anything from you. I know it’s Marcus you love. He’s great, I like him too and he’s a lucky man.’
Nikki frowned. He thought she loved Marcus? It was almost laughable. She was incapable of loving anyone, bar her kids. Just showed how wrong someone could be. She tightened her scrunchie and shook her head. ‘Nah. Marcus isn’t Khal. He could never replace him.’
Shaking his head, Jacko’s eyes clouded, his brows pulled together. ‘What? You mean now you’ve discovered Khal didn’t piss off back to Gaza at his dad’s bidding, you’re going to elevate him to sainthood?’
He jumped to his feet. ‘This isn’t all about you, Nikita. He was my best mate. You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what to do with themselves. I fucking don’t. I’ve spent fifteen years cursing him on your behalf, on Charlie’s behalf and on my own behalf. I feel like a dick. I should’ve known he wouldn’t do that. You were his world – his universe. But Khal was only human. He had secrets. Things he kept quiet about.’ His eyes sparked when he glared at her. ‘Regardless of all that though, we should’ve been better than we were. We should’ve fought for him.’
Nikki massaged the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb. What secrets? About his family? That wasn’t a secret. She was well aware of the pressure Burhan Abadi had placed on his son. She thrust the thought aside and concentrated on Jacko. He looked distraught, not quite meeting her eyes. If she didn’t know him so well, she’d think he looked guilty. After Khal disappeared, Jacko was the one who’d been there for her. He’d been hurt, upset, but she’d been his priority. Sometimes Nikki wished she could love him the way he wanted. ‘We let him down then – I’m damned if we let him down now, right?’
Jacko nodded. ‘I’ll get my jacket. Last thing you need right now is to face Tess. She’s …’ He shrugged and cast a quick glance at the door as if expecting his sister to materialise there. ‘… a bit unpredictable at the minute. This’ll set her off on one. You know what she’s like. We’ll go to The Mannville Arms and talk things through. Maybe Gordon and Nancy will remember something.’
Squashing the thought that this wasn’t about Tess, it was about Khal, Nikki sighed. She doubted the pub landlords would remember anything more. Fifteen years was a long time and a lot had happened in the intervening years. It was worth a try though.
After grabbing his jacket, leaving a note for his sister and locking up, Jacko followed Nikki to her car and slid into the seat beside her. ‘Hell, don’t you ever clean this cesspit out? It’s vile. I’m sure I’m sitting in something sticky. Aw for God’s sake – it’s toffee sauce. You been eating those bloody Maccie D’s chocolate fudge sundaes again?’
Nikki put the car into gear and drove off. ‘Nothing wrong with a chocolate fudge sundae.’
‘There is when it ends up slathered all over your passenger seat.’ Jacko grabbed a tissue from a box in the footwell and tried to wipe the gooey mess off, but instead, big clumps of tissue stuck to his fingers. ‘Bloody lethal.’
Nikki’s response was to switch the radio on.
‘Capital Radio News. And in Bradford, in a shock new discovery, it appears that more bones have been discovered at the site of the Odeon car park on Quebec Street. A source close to police say they are now linking the gruesome discovery with the skeletonised remains found during the Sunbridge Wells excavations in 2012. Bradford it appears has yet another serial …’
Tutting, Nikki switched it back off. ‘If we ever find the tosser who keeps leaking news of ongoing investigations to the press, then I’ll happily lead the lynching mob.’
‘If I ever catch the fucker who did this, Nikki, I’ll kill him.’
His quiet tone had Nikki risking a quick glance at her friend. Jacko was staring straight out the window, his eyes narrowed, his chin thrust out. Nikki had never seen him look so ferocious and it calmed her. Whatever happened, she wasn’t in this entirely on her own. Releasing the wheel for a nanosecond, she squeezed his knee. There was no need for words.
Driving past the ice rink and through the traffic lights, Nikki pulled up outside the Mannville Arms.
‘You sure about this? You could just head straight home to Charlie.’
Despite what her heart was telling her, Nikki shook her head. ‘No, my mum’s got her. This is more important. Besides, after the day I’ve had, I could do with a pint.’
They walked through the puddles – Jacko dodging them, Nikki storming straight through them – and entered the pub. If Nikki closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the heavy fug of smoke, the taste, the smell. Khal had smoked. She’d hated it but had given up nagging him. She ate chocolate fudge sundaes, he smoked. They both had their weaknesses. When they’d come here in a group of friends and later as a couple, the bar had always been busy; busy, smoky and loud. Khal would have hated the smoking ban that followed a few years after his death. He’d have moaned, but he wouldn’t have given up. Maybe Charlie’s appearance would have been the catalyst for him breaking the habit.
The night he’d not come home, he’d come here to get away. To think, he’d said. None of their friends had been here. Jacko had flu and was in bed and Tess was looking after him – their mum already too much of an invalid herself to care for her grown-up lad. Amar and Samir were at a Bhangra gig in Huddersfield and Cindy and Sally had gone to the pictures. It wouldn’t have mattered to Khal. He’d have bought his pint and sat in a corner, brooding into it. He’d been doing a lot of that in the weeks leading up to his disappearance. Thinking of her friends from that time, Nikki realised she’d pushed them away. She’d neither seen nor heard from any of them in years. Jacko was the only friend from then that she’d kept in touch with. Actually, it was Jacko who insisted on keeping in touch with her.
In the early days, she’d have been happy to let the friendship slide. It was he who persevered, wouldn’t take no for an answer, insisted on turning up and demanding she interact with him. Over the years, she’d grown to accept it, to rely on him. As she glanced round the pub, she could almost imagine Khal hunched over in the corner, nursing a pint. Oh, Khal, who did this to you?
She was brought back to the present by Jacko nudging her. ‘A pint?’
She nodded and seeing Nancy at the end of the bar, edged her way towards her. The landlady’s concerned, sympathetic smile told Nikki that the other woman had heard the news already.
‘Oh, sweetheart. Are you okay? Oh, what am I saying?’ Her hand fluttered up to her chest, ‘Of course you’re not. Who the hell would be? I’d nearly forgotten you’d ever been married and then I heard it on’t news. What a shock for you – and that little girl of yours too. I was just saying to Gordon that it was a real bolt out of the blue.’ She turned to her husband and raised her voice. ‘A right bolt out of the blue, I said, didn’t I, Gordon? You know about young Khal – Nikki’s husband? You remember – dark lad, always one for a laugh. We thought he’d pissed off back to his folks in India, remember?’
‘Palestine. He was Palestinian, not Indian.’ But Nancy was paying no attention to Nikki.
‘That’s who them bones down by’t Odeon belonged to. They’re saying there’s more down there too. Saying it’s a serial killer. You heard it on the news, didn’t you, Gordon?’
Gordon, who was serving Jacko, nodded, his eyes flicking over Nikki and then back to the job in hand.
