Michael Fowler - Cold Death

Hunter wanted to punch the air.

“That lift is on the fifth floor. Now all you’ve got to do is some old fashioned door-knocking and you should have your attack site.”

Hunter studied Barry. A pneumatic drill couldn’t remove that sickly contented smirk on his face he thought. He was so pleased for him and so glad he had brought him onto the team.

“Ever thought about being a detective Barry?” said Hunter straight-faced, launching himself out of his seat.

The civilian investigator scrutinised him for a second then said “Detective Sergeant Kerr if I didn’t know you better I would say you’re jealous because an old hand has beaten you to the end-game.”

They both flashed a grin to one another.

“One up to you Barry,” returned Hunter wetting a finger and striking it in the air. “Well done you old fart.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment shall I. By the way I will accept payment with several pints of John Smiths amber nectar,” he finished, switching the TV off.

* * * * *

“Let me have a go at Jilani,” begged Grace after briefing.

Detective Superintendent Michael Robshaw had determined that now they had the CCTV evidence damming Ari there was no rush to re-interview him and that the team should focus on Samia’s parents since no one had spoken with them following their re-arrest the previous afternoon.

He had allocated that task to Hunter and Grace whilst sending the remainder of the team across to Sheffield to find Ari and Pervez’s place especially given that Barry had narrowed down the flat complex location and the floor level.

Hunter looked up from the notes he had scribbled.

“Let me try the empathy approach — Mother and daughter thing again. It might work this time coming from me. I can guess she’s been subservient to Mohammed for years and even afraid of him, but I can’t believe deep down that she is involved in all this. My gut instinct is she’s just keeping silent because she’s more afraid of her husband than she is of us.”

Hunter stroked his chin and mused over her comments.

“Okay let’s go for it.” He clicked the top back on his pen and slid the folder of evidence across the desk. “She’s all yours.”

* * * * *

Jilani looked haggard. Her dark hair was unkempt, her red and gold sari crumpled and black streaks stained her cheeks from her crying.

Grace could see Jilani had suffered a sleepless night and guessed that she would be jaded and feeling vulnerable. That all stacked in her favour for this interview.

An interpreter and her solicitor were present.

Hunter started the tape recording machine.

“Jilani I want to make things easy for you. Yesterday we interviewed your nephews Ari and Pervez and one of them has admitted being involved in the abduction of your daughter Samia.” Grace concentrated on Jilani’s face, watching her reactions as the interpreter repeated her opening lines in Urdu.

“He has also implicated your husband Mohammed in this, actually saying that your husband forced them to carry out the abduction under threat of violence.” Grace deliberately held back the sighting by Doctor Woolfe which negated this story so that they could hopefully stack up the evidence against Ari and Pervez.

There was a flicker in the woman’s eyes and a quick shake of the head.

“Mrs Hassan I don’t want to prolong this agony for you because what happened to your daughter was horrendous. But we have a duty to investigate this thoroughly and if we find you are involved in her murder then you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Jilani nodded even before the interpreter finished and Grace realised for the first time that the woman had a better understanding of English than she had initially made out. That was a good thing. It would be easier now for her to look for the signs in her facial expressions and body language.

“I’m going to show you some film footage now that was captured by CCTV cameras about two months ago at Meadowhall. I must warn you it is disturbing but I want you to concentrate on it.”

Hunter got up, switched on the small TV, and started the DVD rolling. It re-ran the same footage they had shown to Ari Arshad the previous day.

As it ran Grace never took her eyes off Jilani. Five minutes had gone by when the woman dropped her head onto her chest and started weeping. Grace knew at that point that the tape had just ended without seeing it happen. “I’m sorry you had to sit through that Mrs Hassan but I needed to show you just how your daughter started her suffering. I also have to tell you that we now believe she was held for five days before she was finally killed and during that time she was violently raped.”

Her anguish increased to a sob.

“I can tell you that we now have enough evidence to take this to court and prosecute for murder. Ari has implicated your husband in your daughter’s murder and your prolonged silence in all this is not going to help you. If you continue to refuse to talk then we will suspect you are involved in this and you will also go to court.”

Jilani looked up into Grace’s eyes. Black runny kohl eyeliner scarred her cheeks.

“Mrs Hassan I am a Mother of two daughters and if I thought my husband had been involved in their deaths I would move heaven and earth to see him punished. As a mother yourself I do not believe for one second you would want anything different. Am I right?”

With glazed over eyes she nodded. Then she began to speak in Urdu. After about twenty seconds she stopped. “I never realised that they had done that to my Samia,” she delivered in broken but understandable English.

Grace reached across and took hold of Jilani’s hands and fixed her a sympathetic look. “Mrs Hassan do you want to tell us what you know?”

She hung her head and dropped her gaze to the table. “I never wanted Samia harmed. I went along with my husband and told her I would disown her after what she had done with that young doctor. She knew our values and she just went against them but I never wished any harm against her. It was Mohammed he wouldn’t let it go. He arranged for her to marry a cousin of his back in Pakistan. He said it would be the best thing for her, but she flung it back in his face. Then he discovered she was planning to run away and he got even angrier.”

“What did he do?” Grace still held Jilani’s hands.

“I knew he was arranging things with Ari but I didn’t know what he intended. I know Ari and Pervez are not good people — that they have been in trouble, but I do not know what for. I pleaded with Mohammed to let things be, just disown her as our daughter, but he wanted to punish her he said for bringing dishonour to him.” She lifted her head and broke into a fresh sobbing fit.

Grace let her hands go and fished a paper handkerchief from her jacket pocket and handed it over.

Jilani dried her eyes. The kohl smudged further.

“Please go on Mrs Hassan.”

“I never knew it was going to go this far. Mohammed told me Ari and Pervez were going to force her to go to Pakistan and everything would be sorted. When you came to the shop and I heard you say you were investigating her murder I was shocked. It was only then that I realised what Mohammed had done to Samia. Believe me I did not know this. What you have shown me on the TV, the thing that has happened to Samia — it is evil.”

“Are you willing to give a statement?”

Jilani wiped her eyes again. Then she nodded.

For evidential purposes the first statement was written in English followed by a second in Urdu, by the interpreter. The evidence against Ari and Pervez Arshad and also Mohammed Hassan was damming and Hunter couldn’t wait for that evening’s briefing. He was also eager to get back into the incident room to find out if the flat had been located.