13
Z ayn
Professor Evans is not the ogre I expected. Around forty, soft-spoken and polite, he thanks me for delivering Miss Mansour’s essay and hopes she will soon be well enough to return to his classes.
My new security uniform feeling somewhat tight, I assure him she just has a cold and will definitely make it to the toxicology exam. He seems genuinely relieved.
“Lucky for her you happen to live nearby,” he observes. “Please pass on my best wishes.”
“Will do.” I tip my non-existent hat and make my exit just as my phone trills in my pocket.
The screen shows Tony calling. I hit ‘receive’.
“Hi, mate.”
“I’m in the East car park. Meet me there in five.”
So much for social niceties. “On my way. What’s the hurry?” I assume we have a job on, something that has just come up.
“Just get down here.” The phone goes dead.
It sounds urgent, so I quicken my step and arrive in the East car park in less than three minutes. I scan the rows of vehicles for Tony’s usual Land Rover Discovery and locate it close to the outer gates. I jog over and hop in the passenger seat. Rome and Nico are in the back.
“So, what are we doing?” I ask, after greeting them all.
“House calls,” is Tony’s terse reply.
“Right?” I wait for him to elaborate.
“Do you know Gregory? He lives in the flat one floor below Leila.”
I frown, shaking my head. “She hasn’t mentioned him. Is he a friend?”
“I haven’t a clue, though he did her a big favour last night.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Leila was with me last night.”
He ignores my reply. “Gregory’s a good lad. He used to go to one of Jenna’s support groups.”
I’ve heard of Tony’s partner’s strange little ‘hobby’. Jenna manages one of the pubs owned by the Savage corporation, and it tends to do fairly well, I gather. Decent food, if you have a fondness for pie and mash and a full English all-day breakfast. Ethan must think so, too, because he allows her to use one of the rooms there for a study support group. Local kids drop in after school to study and do homework. Jenna supplies a laptop if they need it, and somewhere quiet to work. There are even students from the uni on hand to help out and give one-to-one coaching, not to mention the snacks and drinks. Not alcohol, but that’s not what the kids seem to want anyway. Toast, soup, sandwiches. For some of those inner-city kids it’s the only decent food they get all day, and they appreciate it.
If this Gregory came from all that and managed to get into university, he must be a bright student. I say as much.
“He was,” Tony agrees. “Studying law. Jenna helped him with the application, and Ethan took a bit of an interest. He gave him a job in one of our restaurants, to help out with living costs, and threw in the accommodation for free. That’s how come he lives below Leila.”
“I see, so, what was this favour he did for Leila?” I’m not getting Gregory’s potted life history for no reason.
“He’s a party animal, our Gregory. Went clubbing last night, didn’t get a taxi back until after two in the morning.”
“Okay…”
“The cab dropped him and his mate off at the end of the road. As they were walking towards the house, they saw someone on the doorstep, letting themselves in the front door. Two men, both Asian. He didn’t recognise them but assumed they were new tenants.”
I remain quiet, waiting for the punchline.
“When Gregory and his mate got to the door, they saw it had been forced, and not very elegantly. The frame was splintered, and they spotted a crowbar slung in the shrubbery. They’d had a few, but they still had the sense to go in quietly and checked the ground floor first. Nothing apparently amiss there, so they went up the stairs. Second floor was okay, too, but on the third floor, where Gregory’s flat is, they heard footsteps above them.”
“In Leila’s flat.”
Tony nods, deftly manoeuvring the Discovery out of the gates and into the flow of traffic. “She doesn’t get many visitors, and definitely not two men arriving at that time in the morning. They went up there to see what was going on. Arrived in time to see these two jokers spraying petrol through the letterbox and following that up with bunch of lighted matches.”
“Holy fuck!” The words come out as a snarl. “Arson.”
“Yup, certainly seems that way.”
“Was it?—”
“The cousins? We think so. The CCTV on the front door caught clear enough images. Ethan has Casey checking the pictures against our home movie, but we expect them to match.”
“I’ll fucking kill the pair of them. Did this Gregory…?
“Gregory was occupied making himself busy with a fire extinguisher so had to let them get away. He thought Leila was inside, and his first priority was to get her out. Sounds like they thought she was in there, too. They were trying to kill her.”
“Thank God I got her away from there yesterday or they might have succeeded.” My stomach churns at the thought. “Those bastards…”
“Quite. So, Gregory dealt with the immediate issue, made sure that Leila wasn’t trapped in the flat, and the fire was out. Then he phoned Ethan. Woke him up at three in the morning, another black mark against these fire bombers. He’s pretty pissed off.”
Yes, I suppose he would be. Ethan hates anyone disturbing him at night. It unsettles his kids and worries his wife.
Tony continues. “The boss rang me first thing. He’s got contractors coming in to fix the damage, but we need to have a look first, check if there’s anything useful to find in the way of evidence. First, we talk to Gregory, get the story straight, then go over the scene for ourselves. Then comes the fun bit. We go searching for our little friends. I should add, Ethan wants it sorting, and fast. He doesn’t appreciate having his property damaged.”
I don’t give a fuck about the property, but otherwise I agree with the sentiment. “I’ve a good idea where they’ll be about now.”
It’s a little after five, so Iftikar finished work over an hour ago. He’ll be at home by now, tucking in to his mother’s chicken bhuna. His evening entertainment usually starts with a session on the weights at Harry’s Gym, then a shower and a massage before chucking away the rest of his earnings on a game of poker.
My preference is the gym. We own Harry’s, so access won’t be an issue, and we can rely on everyone looking the other way when shit gets serious. I outline my idea to Jack, who agrees.
“The old man?” I wonder. “Was he involved?”
“Not at the scene, as far as we know, but Casey’s checking any other CCTV in the neighbourhood. What about the other one?”
“Mehrban works as a stylist at one of those posh gentlemen’s salons. Much sought-after, or so I hear. Rich posers pay over a hundred quid a go for him to do a short back and sides. I was thinking I could do with a haircut myself, boss.”
“Yes, you’re a scruffy sod. No doubt you prefer privacy for your pamper session?”
“Obviously. I’ll make an appointment and book out the entire place for myself. Say about seven?”
“Sounds perfect. Ah, here we are.” He pulls up in front of Leila’s house in Stirling. “Shit, they made a right fucking mess of that door.”
He’s not wrong. The frame appears to be beyond repair, and the door is hanging off one hinge. The crowbar has been moved into the hallway and is now propped against the wall. I make a mental note to pick it up on the way out.
We sprint up the stairs to the third floor. Gregory opens up on the first knock.
“Tony! I was hoping he’d send you.” The young man before us flings his arms around Tony in a vigorous man hug. “Long time, mate. How’s Jenna?”
“She’s good. You?”
“Okay, considering.” He steps back and opens the door wide. “Come in.”
We all troop into the compact studio flat. It’s neat, and clean, but it’s obviously a student home. Books are everywhere. Huge tomes for the most part, along with piles of handwritten notes. I take in one or two titles. Charlesworth and Percy on Negligence. Principles of Common Law. Contract Law and The Law of Tort. Worthy volumes, all of them, I don’t doubt.
But by far the most obvious of clues as to how young Gregory spends his downtime is the semi-naked man in his bed. So, that’s the way of it. Each to their own.
“So, what happened?” Tony wants to know.
“Pretty much as I told Ethan. We got back in time to see them forcing the door.”
“We?” Tony looks to the man just now getting out of bed. “And you are?”
“Orlando.” The man holds out his hand, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that he’s stark bollock naked.
Tony manages not to appear bothered either. He takes the proffered hand and shakes. “Good to meet you, Orlando.”
“We met at rugby practice,” Gregory explains. “Orlando’s the scrum half. I’m a fullback.”
I’m no rugby fan, but Orlando does seem like the rugby type. Over six foot, built like an ox, short cropped blond hair and muscles hewn from granite. His nose has been broken at least twice, I’d say.
Gregory is somewhat similar in build, but with dark-brown hair and his nose remains intact. Iftikar and Mehrban didn’t stand a chance.
“Lando went after them, but they were quick. I just grabbed the fire extinguisher.”
“You did well, both of you. We’re grateful.”
“I had to kick Leila’s door in. I thought she was in there…”
“I moved her out yesterday,” I explain.
“Good. But I wish I’d known. We wouldn’t have let them get away.”
“Don’t worry about that. We have a good idea who they are. Did you see anyone else, maybe outside?”
Gregory and Orlando exchange a questioning glance.
“No, not that I recall,” Orlando replies. “To be fair, we weren’t looking.” He hesitates, then, “But there must have been someone else with them.”
“Oh?” I ask. “Why do you say that?”
“I chased them out into the street. They ran off along the road, but only for a hundred yards or so. Then they hopped in a car that was waiting. One got in the front, passenger side, and the other in the back. There had to have been a driver…”
“And I bet I know who. What sort of car was it?”
“Couldn’t rightly say, not at that distance, and it was dark. A saloon, that’s all I can say.”
“A hundred yards? Which direction did they go? Left or right?”
“Right. And they crossed the road.”
Tony already has his phone out. “I’ll get on to Casey. She might be able to hack into some doorbell cameras. If we can get a good look at that vehicle, better still, the driver, we’re home and dry.”
We leave him to get on with that while we go up a floor to survey the damage to Leila’s flat. Orlando throws on some jeans and follows us.
“We got as far as here,” Gregory pauses on the second step from the top. “We could see the flash of torches, and they weren’t exactly being quiet. Either they were idiots or they didn’t give a shit about anyone hearing them.”
“Probably a bit of both. What next?”
“We did keep quiet. We got to the top and saw the pair of them crouching by Leila’s door. We could smell petrol, so we knew what they were up to. Vicious bastards. One of them sprayed, the other was lighting matches and posting them through the letterbox. Fucking stupid, they were lucky not to set themselves on fire.”
Not so lucky when we get hold of them. I observe the carnage. The door is charred and almost as mangled as the one downstairs, courtesy of Gregory’s boot. I shove it open to find the inner entrance area equally damaged. The walls are smoke-stained, and the smell of chemicals almost overwhelming.
“What the fuck is that stink?” Nico asks.
“Fire extinguisher,” Gregory answers. “I emptied the thing.”
We advance right inside. The tiny flat is barely recognisable since my last visit just a day ago. I’m glad I didn’t delay collecting Leila’s things, she’d have virtually nothing left undamaged. The smoke has got everywhere, into every corner of the single-room studio.
“She won’t be moving back anytime soon,” Tony observes, having followed us in.
I agree. Every cloud and all that…
“I’ll chase up those industrial cleaners,” he adds, his phone back in his hand. “Ethan’ll be delighted.”
Outside in the car, we take stock.
“Well, they made a right fucking mess, but no one died,” Nico says, ever the optimist.
“Yet,” I growl. And only because young Gregory waded in in time. I check my watch. “My appointment is in an hour. We’d best get moving.”
“Will you need backup?” Tony asks me, starting the car.
I shake my head. “I can handle Mehrban just fine. But I want Iftikar as well. They’re both mine.”
“Fair enough.” He glides out into the slow-moving rush-hour traffic. “We’ll lift Iftikar from the gym and bring him round to the salon. You can do the honours there, but the boss wants no mess if you can help it. And obviously, no witnesses. Nothing to even indicate we were there.”
“Agreed.” I already have my plan sorted. “He’ll get to the gym around eight.”
“Okay. We’ll collect him and be back with you by, say, quarter past.”
“Sweet. I should be all set up by then.”