Dead Wrong - [32]

Chapter Fifteen

I couldn’t fathom out why Sonia Siddiq had claimed that Ahktar Khan was a stranger to her and her husband. Surely the witness testimony would be just as valid if Siddiq knew the victim. I tried to find a reason for the denial. Why did it matter? What changed if Rashid Siddiq had known Ahktar Khan? I turned it over and over in my mind but came up blank. Apart from the startlingly obvious conclusion that Rashid Siddiq had wished to obscure the relationship because if it was known about, it could lead to awkward questions.

‘OK,’ I muttered aloud as I paced my office, ‘if Rashid Siddiq has something to hide, then why come forward in the first place?’ He could have just left it. Nobody knew that the Siddiqs had seen Ahktar being killed, so why speak out? Conscience? From someone Emma had described as a heavy with involvement in drug smuggling? It didn’t add up. My investigation was revealing new facts and the picture was shifting, but it was still jumbled; nothing was in focus, no clear relationship between the different elements.

I was even more bemused by Zeb Khan’s clumsy lie, his denial of any contact with Rashid Siddiq. The two men worked together. Whatever was going on, I was sure the fabrication would be well worth exploring in court.

I sat down and wrote a brief report for Mr Wallace outlining who I had spoken to, what points might prove useful for Luke’s defence, and what I thought was worth further scrutiny. I also totted up my time and expenses and prepared an invoice.

Hoping he’d be keen to retain me, I listed what further action I’d take: corroborate that Rashid and Ahktar were known to each other and that Rashid and Zeb were colleagues; continue to examine the Siddiqs with the hope of discrediting their reliability; attempt to meet with Joey D; discuss hypnosis with Luke and arrange for it if he agreed; and meet with Dermott Pitt, Luke’s lawyer, to tell him what I’d uncovered.

I rang Mr Wallace to arrange a time to meet and he was eager to see me as soon as possible. We fixed on first thing the following morning. I also rang Golborne and booked to see Luke on Monday morning.

Then I went to pick the kids up.

Friday morning and the journey through town was just as laborious as before. Little looked to have changed in the bombed area and we were still diverted, following buses and coaches along small side streets. I saw a poster on a hoarding: They went for the heart of Manchester but missed the soul. Together we can rebuild our city. My eyes teared up. I sniffed hard and waited for the queue to move.

Victor Wallace answered the door himself this time. It was a dull damp day so there was no sitting in the garden. No coffee either, as if all he could concentrate on was the case. As soon as we were settled in the study he began to quiz me. ‘You said there was new information. Does it exonerate Luke? What does Pitt say?’ In his eagerness he was almost hectoring me, his shiny face alert, eyes bright with hope.

‘I’ve brought this,’ I handed him my report, ‘it summarises the main points and where I’d like to go next.’

He scanned it, nodding, looking up at me and then back at the paper, his head bobbing to the rhythm of the sentences as though he would memorise them.

‘Good, good,’ he muttered, then directly at me: ‘Good. This is what we need and more of it. Start with Pitt. I’m seeing Luke later today, I’ll fill him in but I think you should see him yourself.’

I smiled. ‘I took the precaution of booking a visit for Monday. He’s agreed to hypnosis too, and I’ve arranged for someone I know to see him on the Tuesday.’

He frowned momentarily. ‘Do you think he’ll remember something?’

‘Maybe. It can’t do any harm, anyway.’ Unless Luke did it and he remembers the unthinkable. I kept that possibility to myself.

‘Could it stir up…he’s not very bright at the moment.’

‘No. It’s a form of relaxation; it should help. She’s very good, the woman I know. I trust her. She said you can’t make someone say or do anything they don’t want to; the patient’s got to feel safe and comfortable.’

‘And he’s agreed to it, you say?’

I nodded. ‘He rang last night.’

‘OK.’ He turned back to the papers. ‘I’m not clear exactly on this stuff about the eye-witnesses. They said they didn’t know Ahktar but you think they did?’

‘Well, Rashid did, certainly. I don’t know about Mrs Siddiq.’

‘Is it important?’

‘Only because it’s a discrepancy. It might help discredit them,. If they’ve lied about that, what else might they have lied about? It shows they are less than honest.’

‘Why would they do that?’

I shrugged. ‘I’m still trying to figure it out. It could be a red herring.’

‘But this business with the Deason boy should set some alarm bells ringing?’

‘I’d have thought so. Although at the time the police were happy to leave it, once his grandmother showed them his knife and they knew it wasn’t the murder weapon. Now he’s been away so long, maybe we can interest them in why he ran and what scared him so much he’s not come back.’

He grunted assent, still referring to my notes.