21
L eila
I’m woken by the sound of the shower. I sit bolt upright, my eyes scanning the room. I spot the empty coffee cup and know it’s not mine. The boots discarded by the door are another clue, and the jacket slung across a chair.
He’s back!
I take a moment to let the sleep fog clear, then slide out of bed. I pad over to the en suite and push the door open.
Zayn is silhouetted behind the shower screen, rubbing shampoo into his hair. I watch as he finishes the task and lets the water stream over his head before reaching for the soap. I tug the loose-fitting T shirt I wore to sleep in over my head and drop it on the floor, then step forward.
His eyes widen when I slip into the shower beside him, but he moves over to make room for me.
I ignore the cascading warmth and slide my arms around his waist, lifting my face to kiss his neck. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me, too,” he murmurs. “How…how are you?”
A good question. A very good question, and I don’t honestly know the answer. I reply with what I do know.
“It was a shock, finding out like that. You should have told me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was going to, but I was waiting for the right moment. Then I was called away, so…”
“Don’t do that again. Keep things from me. I’m not a delicate little flower who can’t know the truth.”
“Aren’t you? I gather you reacted pretty badly.”
“You spoke to Jack?”
“Yes, and I get it. I do. I know that this isn’t your world. I thought?—”
“Not my world?” I step back to be able to look him in the eye. “What world am I in, then? I’m here, aren’t I? With you.”
“Yes. Now. But…for how long?”
“What do you mean? Do you want me to leave?” I step away, stunned. I hadn’t anticipated this, not after…
He grabs me and hauls me back against him. “God, no. I just thought… You were so angry.”
“Shocked is closer to the mark. I couldn’t believe you’d done that. Murdered people. For me.”
“There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, Leila. Don’t you realise that yet?”
“But this is big.”
“I know. But, just let me explain. Maybe you can?—”
“Jack explained. He was very…persuasive.”
“Did he threaten you? It’s his job to protect the organisation, and I gather you were keen to go to the police. He couldn’t allow that. But if he did scare you, I’m sorry.”
“He didn’t scare me, exactly. Well, maybe a bit. He pointed a few things out to me, though. What he said made sense.”
“Good. I think.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I should have told you everything, I know that, but I ran out of time. Do you have any more questions for me? Is there anything else you need to know?”
I chew on my lip, then blurt what’s been on my mind since Jack left me yesterday. “Farah would have been next, wouldn’t she?”
“Farah?”
“My sister,” I clarify. “She’s sixteen, and…”
He nods. “Yes. Probably. Your uncle was an entitled, arrogant shit who liked getting is own way, and he’d certainly have seen her as fair game. He’d lost control of you, but she was still there.”
“I’m glad he’s gone.” I make the statement without hesitation. “They’re safe now, Farah and Amina. She’s only ten, but…”
“Yes, they’re safe for now, but didn’t you say your mother was of the same mind as Abdul? If your father is as weak as he seems, well…”
He doesn’t need to finish, I know what he thinks. It’s crossed my mind, too. “She’s religious and very traditional in her views, but she always deferred to Abdul. He was the driving force. I doubt she’d do anything on her own, and my dad won’t go along with it anymore.” I hope.
“Now that Abdul and his idiot sons are out of the picture, you could have contact with your family. If there’s any more crap about marrying that uncle in Pakistan, we can deal with it then.”
“I’d like that. I’ve missed them, especially Farah.”
He takes my face between his hands and tilts my gaze up to meet his. “You can never tell them what really happened,” he says. “No matter how much your aunt weeps and wails. Your mother, too, for that matter.”
“I know,” I reply. “I understand.” And it’s true. I do understand. Finally.
Maybe I’m more a part of his world that either of us thought.
Zayn
I leave Leila surrounded by her books, swotting for the toxicology exam. Apparently, she can take it in two weeks’ time along with any would-be doctors who failed the first time around. I make my way downstairs and join the others in the lounge for our regular afternoon briefing.
“How’s Leila?” Ethan greets me with the question as soon as I enter. “Did you manage to sort things?”
“Yeah, I think so. Or Jack did. I don’t know exactly what he said to her, but it worked.”
He simply nods. “I see. Good. We were just starting.”
Tony, Rome, and Beck are already here, along with Jack, Nico, and Aaron. Ethan leads off with a recap of what we think we know so far.
“So, Shahida’s dead, as far as we can tell. Frankie is trawling through archive footage for solid evidence, but we have no reason to suppose otherwise. Agreed?”
We all nod.
“We leaned hard on Freddie,” Tony puts in. “I don’t think he was lying at the end.”
I’m pretty sure he wasn’t. Like most bullies, he was pathetic when faced with someone stronger. He couldn’t tell us enough.
“What did you do with the body?” Ethan wants to know.
“Tipped him into a reservoir on the way back to pick up Bilal and Sarah. We won’t be seeing him again anytime soon.” Tony sips his coffee. “Fucking good riddance.”
No one is disagreeing.
“So, moving on.” Ethan is keen to get to the nub of the issue. “We have reason to believe the brains behind it was Abid Malik, your old boss, Zee.”
“That’s what Freddie seemed to be saying, but he never met the guy and didn’t know his name. He always got his instructions over the phone. If Abid is still banged up in Barlinnie, I don’t see how he could orchestrate that whole operation from a cell.”
Ethan frowns and strokes his chin. “I’ve been doing some enquiries of my own, asking around my contacts in Barlinnie. Seems our Abid is something of a wheeler-dealer. He has a reputation for being a thug, rules the wing like his own little fiefdom. The other prisoners, and some of the officers, apparently, live in fear of him. He’s never short of money and controls the supply of drugs in there.”
“He could be running businesses outside, as long as he has a way of communicating,” Jack remarks. “He’ll have a mobile, no doubt about it.”
Ethan nods. “That’s what I’m thinking. And it would have been easy enough for him to hire someone outside to track Shahida, especially if she wasn’t being careful.
“She used a different name. Elahi. But other than that,” Tony muses.
“It’s a long shot, but I have Frankie working on something,” Ethan continues. “We have Freddie’s phone and can check his call history. If we can isolate the incoming calls from his ‘controller’, we might be able to pinpoint where the calls came from, and even, possibly, hack into that phone account. It’d be interesting to scroll through Abid’s texts, don’t you think?”
“Is that even possible?” I ask.
“Casey thinks so,” he replies. “She’s helping Frankie on it.”
That sounds promising. “How long before they come up with the goods?” I wonder.
“Hopefully, not long. In the meanwhile, hit me with ideas as to how we deal with Abid, tucked away in Barlinnie.”
“We’re going after him, then?” Jack asks.
“I think so. Apart from the fact that he’s a vicious bastard, he might still have Bilal and Sarah in his sights, and we can only protect them by taking him out. Agreed?”
Again, we all nod. Those kids are under our protection now, and we take that seriously. And anyway, Abid won’t be missed.
“If he’s such a big shot, he’ll be well protected. It’d be difficult to organise a hit by other prisoners,” Rome remarks,
“Difficult but not impossible. There’d be no shortage of volunteers. He’s generally hated inside.”
“Getting near him with a shiv might be a tall order, but he has to eat,” I suggest. “Do your contacts include anyone in the prison kitchen?”
“You’re thinking of poison?”
“Yeah. He was always a greedy git. Stick something lethal in a samosa and he’d guzzle it down.”
Ethan is thinking about it. Eventually, “I’ll give it some thought. There may be a way…”
“What about Bilal and Sarah,” Tony wonders. “What are we going to do with them?”
“Bilal’s seventeen, old enough to decide for himself. I gather he wants to go back to Birmingham and finish his college course.”
“Yes, and he wants to take Sarah with him. They’re family, he thinks it’s his responsibility.”
“It’s good that he thinks like that, but it’s a no-go. He might be able to look after himself, though I do think that’s something of a long shot, but not a ten-year-old girl.”
“I know,” Tony agrees. “I’ve told him that. I also told him there are perfectly good colleges here in Scotland. He could study mechanical engineering here and stay close to his sister. And we could keep an eye out for him as well.”
“Do you think he’ll agree?”
Tony shrugs. “Fingers crossed. But whatever he decides, the fact is, he can’t take Sarah back there, so what are we going to do with her?”
“We’ll need to find a foster placement. Something long-term, and safe.”
“You’re not thinking of putting her into care?” Rome blurts. “I had a dose of that myself as a kid, and it’s fucking awful. She’d never survive it, not after…everything else.”
“I agree,” Ethan assures him. “No, not the care system. We’ll sort it ourselves. She could come to Caraksay and move in with Faith.”
That sounds like a decent solution to me. I’m not sure just how Faith fits into the Savage family, but she tends to look after all the children one way or another, and some who don’t have parents on the island live with her. Ethan holds her in high regard. Sarah would be well cared for, and happy.
“That would work,” Tony agrees. “Or she could stay here.”
“Here?” Ethan’s eyebrow is raised “At Caernbro Ghyll?”
“For a while at least.”
“But who would take care of her? She can’t just fend for herself.”
“Me and Jenna,” Tony asserts. “We could foster her, like we do Robbie. He’s done okay.”
“True but…what does Jenna think? Have you discussed it?”
“Yes. She’s keen. We both think it could work.”
“Yours is only a two-bedroom apartment,” Ethan points out. “You don’t have the space.”
“We were thinking of moving out, into our own place.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” he rushes on. “We have our eye on a house. Four bedrooms, about a mile from here. Three acres of gardens, loads of space for two kids…”
“Sounds very desirable. How long have you been considering this?”
“A while, actually. We just think it’s time. And you don’t need me living here, not with Jack on site. I can be here, or on Caraksay, whenever you need me.”
“I guess you could,” Ethan says. “A mile away, you say?”
“Maybe less. Most of the men live elsewhere, and there are no problems…”
“Okay, okay. I get it, and I have no objections. What about you, Jack?”
“Sounds good to me, boss. I’ll be glad not to have the ugly sod under my feet all the time. I’d miss wee Robbie, though.”
Ethan grins. “Yes, I imagine so.” He levels his gaze on Tony again. “You know the rules about homes outside. High security and make yourself available whenever we need you.”
“Yes, boss. So, can I tell Jenna it’s on?”
“The move, or the fostering?”
“Both.”
“Yes. Both. Good luck with it.”
“How did you do it? Or should I not ask?”
“Do what?” Ethan gazes guilelessly at Jack a few days later, our regular briefing coming to a close.
“Abid,” Jack replies.
“Ah, yes. Abid. Such sad news from Barlinnie.”
The derisive snort is all the answer he gets. Apparently, our friend Abid has met with some sort of mishap in his cell. Attacked, it would seem, with a shiv fashioned from a razor blade embedded in a toothbrush. The murder weapon was left at the scene, still poking out of Abid’s jugular. Despite intensive enquiries by the police and the prison authorities, no one is talking. The killer or killers somehow slipped away to be swallowed back into the prison community and leaving not a trace.
“I assume it was you,” Jack persists. “You set it up.”
Ethan shrugs. “Abid had no shortage of enemies. It could have been anyone.”
Jack abandons his efforts to discover the truth. Ethan may or may not have orchestrated the sudden demise of Abid Malik, but I know where my money would go.
“Good riddance,” I mutter.
No one argues.