Last request, p.14
Last Request, page 14
part #1 of DS Nikita Parekh Series
‘Man of few words, my Gordon.’ Nancy shrugged and smiled. ‘Means I get to blether on as much as I like though, dun’t it?’
Experience told Nikki that the best way to get a word in with Nancy was to wait till she’d wound down. Her heart was in the right place but with every new visitor she was like a steamroller – full speed ahead with a load of inconsequential rubbish until she ran out of steam. That was the time for a more equal conversation to commence, so Nikki nodded and smiled and kept her hands in her pocket in case she was tempted to use them to strangle Nancy into silence. At last, the older woman rolled to a gradual stop and looked at Nikki as if she expected great things.
‘I know it’s been years, Nance, but now we know Khal didn’t just go back to the Middle East, I need to find out what happened. Someone did some bad things to him and he’s lain down the road all these years and we’ve been none the wiser.’
Nancy’s hands fluttered about her chest again, her eyes full of concern. ‘Of course, my dear. You want to work out what happened to him. They said on the news they’ve found more bodies – must be a worry for the police.’ She leaned over the bar till her head was almost touching Nikki’s. Her breath was sour with a faint alcohol tang as she spoke. ‘We’ve already had two of your lot in today.’ She turned to her husband who was now ringing up Jacko’s order on the ancient till and raised her voice, negating her previous subtlety. ‘Who were them coppers came in earlier? What were their names?’
Gordon mumbled something that Nikki couldn’t make out. His wife, however, seemed not to have such trouble, ‘Springer and Bashir. Yep that’s right. Bloody hoity-toity young madam she was. Don’t hold out much hope of her finding her shoes in the morning, never mind finding a serial killer.’ She patted Nikki’s arm. ‘Good job you’re on the case, lass. You’ve got a bit about you, you have.’
Much as she was pleased to hear this, Nikki really wanted to get to the bottom of things. ‘What sorts of things were they asking?’
Nancy began to spiral a tea towel into a tall glass and shrugged. ‘Just if we’d noticed your lad that night. If he’d been with anyone, that sort of stuff.’ She began to hum the tune from the jukebox under her breath and again Nikki’s fingers itched to throttle her.
Keeping her tone measured, Nikki asked, ‘And?’ When she received a blank look, she schooled her mouth into a smile. ‘Did you notice Khal that night? Was he with anyone?’
‘Oh, lass, I wish I could say I had. I wish I could tell you who he’d left with, but the truth is, I just can’t remember. I think he was in, right enough – we thought that at the time – but who he was with, I don’t know. Who he left with – again, I don’t know. Might not even have been that night, I told you that back then, Nikki.’ She raised her voice, ‘We don’t, do we, Gordon? We don’t know if he wur in or who he left with, do we?’
With his standard shrug, Gordon mumbled something as he disappeared through the door to the back and down the stairs to the cellar. From the corner of her eye Nikki saw Jacko approach carrying two pints and ignored the smile that played across his lips as Nancy, seemingly unperturbed that Gordon had escaped, continued. ‘It wur a Tuesday night, you see?’
Nikki didn’t see so she shook her head. ‘You’ve lost me.’
‘Pub quiz night.’ Nancy looked affronted that Nikki had failed to register the biggest social event of The Mannville Arms’ weekly calendar. ‘Town Versus Gown. That’s what we called it back then. The teams were either from the university or from the town. Winning team got a free beer each and we worked out whether the Towns or the Gowns won overall according to their total scores. Bit of fun, but they loved it, did the kids in them days – pure loved it. Now we’re lucky if we get four teams on quiz night and half of them are on their phones, Googling this and Googling that.’
Sensing that Nancy was set to go off on a rant, Nikki interjected with a quick, ‘Thank you’ and went to join her friend. Jacko motioned towards a bench table and Nikki, trying not to imagine banging her head against a brick wall, joined him. ‘Anything from Gregarious Gordon?’
‘You mean other than a grunt and a moan … oh and a rather loud cheese ‘n’ onion flavoured burp? Not a lot. Old Bertie at the bar was a bit more forthcoming. Said he remembered the night Khal disappeared because we all came in asking about “Young Khal” later in the week. Nothing more than that, although he has a notion that he left before Khal – not exactly positive evidence is it?’
Nikki sipped her beer, allowing the smoothness to flow down her throat, soothing her. After this, she’d really have to go home. She couldn’t put her responsibilities off any longer. This trip to the pub had been a complete waste of time if nobody remembered anything concrete.
Chapter 27
Nikki had been well aware, before she’d even left the hospital, that she was remiss in her maternal duties. Even another quick nip in to see Haqib, who was still sleeping off the effects of the anaesthetic, didn’t salve her conscience. How could it? She was a crap mother. She couldn’t count how many parents’ evenings she’d missed for one work-related reason or another, leaving her mum or Anika to pick up the slack. How many family meals had had to be binned because she was tied up at Trafalgar House or on the streets? Finding out that Khal wasn’t alive and thriving in Ramallah but had been tortured to death and buried here in Bradford had set a fire in her gut and she needed to keep going until she’d found who did it.
Now, driving home, the rain battering the car had an almost soporific effect on Nikki. Physically she was spent – moving on adrenaline which was gradually wearing off – but her mind kept wandering. Last year she’d even missed her cousin’s wedding because she and Sajid had to attend to the murder of a Polish woman whose neighbour had hit her on the head with a brick because she didn’t want some immigrant living next door. The fact that the victim was a registrar in paediatrics at BRI hadn’t seemed to matter to the neighbour. The victim’s children had seen the attack and would no doubt be traumatised for life. Nikki’s mother had been irate, accusing Nikki of deliberately taking on the case to avoid the wedding.
True, Nikki hated getting into a sari, yet her mum had insisted. ‘It’s part of our culture – your culture. Grab it with both hands, Nikki, embrace it, enjoy it.’ Her mum had looked so sad as she’d matched jewellery to the sari and helped Charlie and the Rubster to choose theirs. Nikki had put her hand round her mother’s waist and squeezed tightly before promising to be there.
It was only in the last twenty odd years that Lalita Parekh had been reunited with her family. Some of her Indian relatives had long memories – not the ones that mattered, though. Despite her mother’s brave face, the three Parekh women were still pariahs in the eyes of some of the family. So, she had to admit that the Polish woman’s death had provided an ideal excuse.
This was different though – Khal turning up dead was different to the Polish woman. Her mum would understand what drove her onwards. The question was, would Charlie?
She still hadn’t eaten, and driving along Ingleby Road she debated whether she could take the time to grab a McDonald’s drive-thru on her way home. A faint nausea lingered in her gut, her eyes were gritty and every bone and muscle protested as she engaged the clutch at the traffic lights.
Approaching Listerhills, her thoughts ran to Khal and Charlie. How was she supposed to speak to Charlie about all of this? Maybe she’d be in bed, asleep? Who the hell was she kidding? Charlie was too much like her. She’d be waiting, like an avenging angel, to challenge her mother. Pulling up at the kerb, Nikki’s heart sank. Every light was on at the front of the house. She had a welcoming committee. She stumbled out of the car and slowing her steps to a snail-like crawl, she approached the front door, aware that it was too much to hope that it was only her mother awaiting her return. Maybe if she crept in, she’d be able to sneak upstairs and put off the confrontation till the next day.
Pushing the door open, the effort almost too much for her, she saw that the living-room door was ajar and she could hear the heavy silence rumbling along the hallway to greet her. Taking a deep breath, she shrugged off her leather jacket and hung it on the banister before kicking her trainers into the corner beside the kids’ schoolbags and walking the short distance into the lion’s den. Hovering just inside the doorway, she’d never felt more like a schoolgirl about to be rollicked by the headteacher. Marcus sat on the double sofa with Sunni, his round face flushed, thumb in his mouth, fast asleep on his knee and Ruby leaning against him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. Hearing the soft purring snores she made as she slept, Nikki’s heart contracted. She was blessed to have such wonderful kids and yet half the time someone else was looking after them. That had to change – it just had to.
Moving her gaze round the room, she saw her mum, legs folded under her, as she sat on the chair next to the stove which was lit, bringing a welcome warmth to the chilly atmosphere. She looked tired – anguished. Like she had in the early days when it was only the three of them. Nikki risked a small tight smile and was rewarded by her mum’s reassuring nod. No matter what, Lalita Parekh always had her daughters’ backs and Nikki took that for granted. She needed to stop that too. It was too much to expect.
Exhaling slowly, Nikki lifted her eyes to Charlie who stood in front of the stove, all tall and angular. Her eyes sparked and her lips were set in a thin line. Nikki could tell she’d been crying, although Charlie would never admit it to her. With her chin jutting out and her hands on her hips, she looked ferocious – ferocious and beautiful, and Nikki’s heart constricted. She was so much like her dad. So much like Khal and, in that instance, Nikki wished she could wind the clock back. She wished that instead of letting Khal leave the house that night, she’d gathered him in her arms and told him about this precious little bundle that nestled inside her. Perhaps then he’d still be alive, perhaps then things would be very different.
Her gaze drifted to her other two children and she rejected the idea. If Khal was still alive, who was to say she’d still have the Rubster and Sunni. Aware that she was biting the inside of her cheek to stop her face betraying the overpowering emotion that flooded her body, Nikki deliberately pulled her shoulders back and unclenched her hands. She took a step towards her daughter – a step into the silence that thundered around them crashing their entire worlds into smithereens.
Charlie held both hands in front of her warding her off. ‘Don’t come near me. How could you? How could you not have told me? How could you have let me find out from a stupid bloody hospital radio station? What sort of a mother are you?’
Her strident words sliced through Nikki, and she took a step backwards. ‘Oh, Charlie. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
But Charlie wasn’t finished. ‘That’s the story of your fucking life, isn’t it? Sorry for this, sorry for that. Always fucking sorry after the event. We’d be better off if it was you that was dead.’ And, tears streaming down her cheeks, she barged passed, knocking her mother to one side. ‘I hate you. I wish you were dead. You’re not my mother. You’re just the piece of shit that turns up to mess things up.’
Charlie reached the door and paused, turning. ‘And it’s all your fault about Haqib too. Everything you do makes things worse for us. Every sodding thing. Why don’t you just leave? Just fucking leave. Marcus and Aji-ma can look after us. We don’t need you. Go to your precious fucking job. That’s the only place you’re happy. That’s the only thing you love.’
As her daughter stormed upstairs, her feet hammering on each step, Nikki wanted to take off after her but her mother’s soft words stilled her. ‘Let her be. She’s angry. She needed to vent. She’s had a shock. We all have.’
Nikki swallowed, trying to dislodge the spikey lump that was lodged in her throat. Her mum was right, but Nikki knew there was more to it than that. She was only too aware that she’d neglected her family and now she was suffering the consequences.
Her mum got to her feet and perched on the edge of Nikki’s chair, gently placing her arms round her daughter’s shoulders. ‘Never mind Charlie for now. She’s young, she’ll adapt. She’s lost less than you, for she never knew Khalid. I’m more concerned about my own baby. How are you, beti?’
Nikki’s lips quivered and her breath caught in her throat as she looked across and met Marcus’s eyes. As fair as Khal had been dark, he was handsome in an ‘I don’t give a shit sort of way’. His hair always a bit too long, his clothes the same ones he’d worn when they first met. He met her gaze with a slight smile on his lips, yet his pain shone through. He was suffering too. Khal’s death changed things, altered their relationship in an indefinable way. He smiled and nodded, his expression telling her how much he cared for her. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to be second best. But the question remained, could he ever be first in her eyes?
Nudging Ruby awake, Marcus lifted Sunni up and with a sleepy Ruby trailing behind, he paused, whilst Nikki kissed her second daughter, and took them upstairs to bed.
When he’d left the room, Nikki cradled her head in her hands. ‘I’ve well and truly fucked everything up.’
Her mum smiled and shook her head. ‘Tell me everything.’
And with the warmth of her mother’s arms round her, Nikki told her all about Khal’s dad turning up, about Charlie’s call about Haqib and how she’d nicked Sajid’s car. The latter brought a smile to her mother’s lips.
‘Yes, I was here when he discovered that. He was not a happy bunny.’
Nikki smiled briefly, rubbed her hand across her cheek and continued her tale about going to the pub with Jacko to talk to Nancy and Gordon. When she was done, she heaved a great sigh and leaned back. ‘I’m the worst mum in the world. How could I have let Charlie find out about Khal like that? How could I not have been there for her when she most needed me?’
‘Hmph.’ Lalita got to her feet. ‘If my Anika was half the mother you are, Nikita, you wouldn’t have to spend half your life looking after Haqib.’ She wafted her hands at her daughter. ‘As for the rest. You had to go to Trafalgar House. You had to comply. That nasty little man was making all sorts of allegations and your colleagues had to investigate. Now you are in the clear. Now you can grieve for Khal, whilst others investi …’
She caught her daughter’s eye and then shook her head with a sigh. ‘You’re not going to leave it to the Cold Case Unit, are you?’ She tutted. ‘What am I talking about, of course you’re not. You’re Nikita Parekh and you won’t stop till you have all the answers you need.’
Pulling the sleeves of her jumper down till she could grip the cuffs with her fingers, Nikki wrapped her arms round herself and gave an inelegant snort. ‘I can’t leave this to someone else. He was my husband. I loved him. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and he was stolen from me, from Charlie and me, by some murderer. I won’t rest till I find out who. He was the love of my life – he was my life. Now I have to get used to the emptiness all over again.’
A noise at the doorway made her look up. Marcus stood there, his eyes pinned on her, all colour drained from his face. If she’d stabbed him in the belly, she couldn’t have hurt him any more. For a long time, they said nothing. Nikki had no idea how to take her words back. She wasn’t even sure that she wanted to. Khal had been the love of her life, there was no doubt about it, but Marcus was the father of two of her children.
Finally, Marcus spoke. ‘Guess I always knew I was second best, but fuck, Nikki. It’s hard to have it slapped in your face like that.’
He made a strange noise that caught in his throat and Nikki realised it was a half-hearted laugh. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. What could she say? How could she make this better?
‘Thing is, Nikki. I’ve had enough. For years, I’ve put up with you keeping me at arm’s length. Not wanting me to move in, putting obstacles in the way, keeping secrets. You’ve called the shots all this time and …’ He prodded at the hole in his jeans that was there through old age not through trendiness. ‘… like a fool I’ve let you. Thought you’d grow to trust me … to love me.’
He paced the living room. ‘Now I see that I’ve wasted my time.’ His lips twitched. ‘I’ll back off, Nikita. Obviously, I’m still the kids’ dad and I’ll be there whenever you need me to look after them, but …’ He threw his arms up in the air. ‘I’m done. I can’t compete with a dead man and I’m fucked if I want to try anymore. I’ll stay at my own house tonight, Nikki. Call if you need me.’
And before she could think of what to say, he’d turned on his heel and walked from the living room. Nikki stared after him, her head filled with a jumble of words that wouldn’t form into coherent sentences. Her heart shrivelled to the size of a prune and, as the front door slammed behind him, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
She willed herself to run after him, beg him to stay, promise to change … but she knew as well as he did, that she couldn’t. She was too damaged to allow anyone else under her armour. Too independent to compromise and too bloody-minded to beg. As if she was wading through a stormy sea, she made her way through to the hallway, her heart skittering an erratic tattoo against her chest. It was almost like an SOS that nobody could hear: da da da … doo doo doo … da da da. A plea for help gone unanswered.
Nikki walked upstairs to the toilet and threw up.
Chapter 28
‘She’s been here, hasn’t she? I can always tell when she’s been here. You always look like you’re hiding summat.’ Tess Dyer flung her bag by the side of the settee and wedged herself between two oversized cushions. ‘Suppose she came for tea and sympathy? Like she deserves any.’
Jacko turned up the volume on Sky Sports and tried to ignore his sister, but her incessant moaning, sifting over old facts and past mistakes, was too much for him and he gave up, flicking the TV off and trying to hide his scowl. Her venomous words made him anxious and with her in this mood, who knew what she could let slip. If things were to remain sound between him and Nikki, he needed to calm her down. Last thing he needed was her mouthing off in a fit of temper, so he fixed a smile on his face and kept his words light. ‘Aw, Tess, give it a rest, eh? What’s done is done. Now we need to move on. Khal’s been found … but that doesn’t mean we need to drag everything up again, does it? Last thing we need is Nikki turning her attention towards us.’
