Dead Wrong - [24]

In Zeb’s case, as I later discovered, he had good reasons for wanting to appear co-operative, since he had something to hide. Like the Siddiqs. Trouble was, he couldn’t quite carry it off. His personality got the better of him.

I’d rung the bell twice and was about to give up when the intercom crackled. I put my face close to the speaker.

‘Sal Kilkenny. I’d like to speak to Zeb Khan.’

The buzzer sounded and I pushed the door and went into the lobby. I was glad to find him awake – if he’d been playing the tables the previous night he might not have got to bed till after sunrise.

The flats, a block of eight, were set in landscaped gardens with parking at the back. Each flat occupied a corner position with picture windows on either side.

Zeb’s flat was on the first floor. He opened his door but didn’t invite me in, ‘What is it?’

‘I’m investigating Ahktar’s death,’ I said, ‘I’d like to talk to you.’

His expression shifted but I couldn’t read it. Embarrassment? Discomfort? Ahktar had been his cousin, after all.

He stood back and let me in. The living room smelt of stale cigarette smoke and fresh coffee. The space was bland; neutral shades for everything, no pictures or ornaments, no plants. Comfortable, clean but impersonal. Zeb obviously didn’t bother making statements with his interior decoration but his clothes were another matter. He wore the latest designer styles, an Armani T shirt and Calvin Klein jeans. It was easy to tell – the labels were on the outside, writ large.

He had the sort of sulky good looks that fill the magazines and are found in boys’ pop groups; slightly pouting lips, dark eyes, squared-off jaw and matching cheekbones, tousled hair and perfect skin.

We sat down and I explained why I was involved in the investigation and apologised for asking him to go over it all again.

‘Were you close to Ahktar?’ I began. ‘I know you were cousins. Did you spend much time together?’

He shook his head. ‘I was working and he was studying for his exams, to get into university.’

‘He wanted to do law.’

‘Yeah, we’re not all shopkeepers, you know.’

And we’re not all bigots. His belligerence shocked me.

‘You’re wasting your time,’ he said bluntly.

‘What makes you say that?’

“Cos they know who did it – Luke Wallace. They’ve got witnesses and everything.’

‘Do you know the Siddiqs?’

‘What?’ He was thrown by the question. I repeated it.

‘No – well, I know who they are, ‘cos of all this, but why?’

‘Rashid Siddiq works for your brother, at the Cash and Carry. You don’t know him?’

‘No. It’s a big company, I can’t keep track of all the people there.’ There was an aggressive edge to his manner that kept me alert, ready to leave if I needed to.

I tried again, ‘What do you think happened?’

‘Wallace stabbed him. He was out of his head – it happens, doesn’t it? Some people take something and it sends them crazy. He probably didn’t know what he was doing. They reckon he can’t remember any of it.’

‘So you don’t think Luke intended to hurt him, he just lost control?’

‘No,’ he contradicted himself, ‘they’d been arguing, earlier on.’

I waited for him to continue but he didn’t.

‘You saw them?’ I prompted.

‘They were just arguing, mouthing off at each other,’ he said irritably.

‘Do you know what it was about?’

‘No, I couldn’t hear.’

‘When was this?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What time did you get there?’

‘’Bout eight.’

‘So when you saw them arguing was it soon after that?’

‘No.’

‘Before Emma left?’

He frowned, sat forward in his seat then back again. He wasn’t sure. I was perplexed by his reactions but then I thought of an explanation.

‘You’d taken drugs as well?’ I said. ‘It makes it harder to remember exactly when everything happened?’

‘No. Yeah.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’d had a tab but I remember, I saw them. Going at it they were, screaming at each other. Emma had gone, yeah, it was later, after she’d gone.’ He nodded to himself as if he’d found the correct answer.

‘Why did she leave?’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ he bristled. ‘That’s got fuck all to do with it.’

I shrugged. ‘OK. You were seen having a go at Joey D. What was that about?’

‘I’ve had enough of this,’ he said in disgust. ‘I don’t have to listen to this. We’re going to win this one. That guy’s going to pay for Ahktar. You can ask all the questions you like, it won’t change anything. I know what I saw and the police have got all the evidence they need.’

‘After the argument,’ I persisted, ‘did you see Ahktar later?’

‘No.’ He was almost vehement. ‘It was packed. They were still dancing. I went to chill out.’

‘You didn’t see him again?’

He shook his head impatiently.

‘Can you think of anyone else who might have had a grudge against Ahktar?’

‘Look, do you think they’d prosecute if it wasn’t watertight, eh? Dead Paki. It wouldn’t get anywhere near a court if it wasn’t a fucking certainty that Wallace did it. You come round here trying to pick holes in it all, find a way for him to wriggle out. Well, forget it – right? Fucking forget it.’

It was time to go.

I stood up. ‘Does Emma still live in Whalley Range?’

He shrugged.