and nodded curtly as Superintendent Russell introduced himself and Brock. They were in the scruffy setting of the interview room of the Shadwell Road police station, where Brock had found a fax awaiting him when he finally arrived after leaving Chandler’s Yard. The fax had comprised a cover sheet from Russell together with a copy of a single page from an interview with the skinhead Wilson.
A
(NO AUDIBLE REPLY)
Q 37
Well, why would they want to help you?
A
… be surprised, wouldn’t you?
Q 38
No but-
A
Like there was this one, a little Paki in a flash suit, what was fucking wetting himself. He said the Arab the coppers had gone to fetch had topped a white man. He said there was only two coppers.
Q 39
You thought he wanted to help you?
A
He only tried to give me some fucking scissors, didn’t he?
Q 40
What? Say that again.
A
A pair of fucking great scissors. Said if he was younger he’d use them himself.
Q 41
What did you think he meant by that?
A
He wanted me to stick them in the Arab, didn’t he?
Q 42
Why?
A
Well, they all hate each other, don’t they, Arabs and wogs and stuff.
Q 43
What did you do?
A
I told him to fuck off.
Q 44
What did he look like, apart from the suit?
A
They all look the same, don’t they? Middle-aged, my height, dotted tie.
Q 45
Dotted?
A
Yes. White dots.
Brock set his chair slightly behind and to one side of Russell’s, so that there would be no doubt as to who was in charge. He eased himself down, hooked his stick on the seat and gazed benignly at Manzoor who, he was delighted to see, was sporting the same silk polka dot tie he had been wearing at mosque that night.
Russell cleared his throat and began, pressing the start buttons on the recording machines and identifying those present and time and date. He thanked Manzoor for his cooperation and emphasised that he was not under arrest and was under no obligation to answer questions, but cautioned him nonetheless.
‘One moment, Superintendent,’ Manzoor’s solicitor, by the name of Versi, interjected, wrestling a fat file out of his briefcase. ‘My client has asked me to make it plain that he will refuse to answer any questions unless and until he has an explanation of why the police have not yet taken steps to return his daughter to him under the terms of the magistrate’s warrant dated the sixteenth of October last, of which this is a certified copy…’ He plucked a sheet of paper from the file and slid it across to Russell. ‘His cooperation is also conditional upon the arrest of the officer, Sergeant Kolla, who obstructed him in speaking to his missing daughter and who caused the serious injuries to my client this afternoon.’
Russell studied the paper for a moment, then said, ‘I’m afraid I can’t help you with either of those matters, Mr Versi. Since Mr Manzoor has lodged a formal complaint against Sergeant Kolla, that matter will be taken up by the department that specialises in such cases. But I can assure you that they are taken very seriously indeed. As for the matter of your daughter, I believe that is in the hands of the local division. We are here purely in connection with investigations into the arrest and death of one Abu Khadra, about which we believe you may have information that can be of assistance to us. This is a very serious matter, Mr Versi, a murder investigation, and we cannot accept conditions upon your client’s cooperation.’
Versi and Manzoor put their heads together for a moment, then Versi straightened and said, ‘My client is a very prominent and public-spirited citizen, Superintendent, and will be glad to provide whatever assistance he can. He only wishes to draw your attention to the extreme emotional and physical stress these other two matters are placing him under.’
‘That is understood.’ Russell nodded and turned to Brock. ‘Chief Inspector? Anything you’d like to add?’
Brock gave a mild little cough and said, ‘No, no…’
Russell turned back to address Manzoor.
‘… except…’ Brock smiled apologetically, ‘well, since Mr Manzoor mentions those other two matters together, there is one curious feature, although as you say, Superintendent, it has nothing to do with our case… May I?’ He reached over and picked up the photocopy of the warrant. ‘Ah, yes. Issued under Section nineteen of the Sexual Offences Act 1956, relating to the abduction of girls, on the basis of a statement on oath provided by the father.’
‘Yes?’ Versi looked at him curiously. ‘So?’
‘And witnessed by yourself, I see, Mr Versi.’
‘Certainly. What is your point please?’
‘Well, you’re the lawyer, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I understood Section nineteen of the Act related to the abduction of unmarried girls under the age of eighteen.’
Brock was aware of Manzoor giving a little start.
‘That’s right.’ Versi nodded.
‘Well…’ Brock beamed, ‘of course, Mr Manzoor, of all people, will know the marital state of his daughter Nargis. It’s only that the very same Sergeant Kolla whom he refers to happened to mention to me only today something about getting a translation for a wedding certificate issued to a girl called Nargis in Kashmir. And if that were the case, of course, the issue of a fraudulent warrant on the basis of a perjured oath would be an extremely serious matter. But probably I’m getting confused with another Nargis, eh? Just a curious coincidence?’
Manzoor was rigid in his seat, staring at Brock. Versi turned to him, puzzled.
‘Anyway,’ Brock went on cheerfully, ‘this is all completely irrelevant to what we’re here for. Those investigating the complaint against Sergeant Kolla will no doubt be interested in clearing up the confusion, if there is one, but we are not.’ He turned to Russell with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, I’m wasting time.’
Russell frowned, ‘Yes, I think we’d better stick to the point here, Brock.’
‘Em…’ Versi was glancing back and forward between Manzoor and Brock with a look of perplexity. ‘I wonder if I might have a moment with my client?’
But Manzoor roused himself abruptly and said, ‘No, no. Let’s get this other thing out of the way and then we can be gone. I don’t feel well.’
Versi said, ‘Mr Manzoor was given pills at the hospital.’
‘Of course,’ Russell conceded. ‘I have only a few simple questions to ask Mr Manzoor. It shouldn’t take long. Firstly, how long have you known the man Abu Khadra?’
