“I also found this footage,” continued Barry.
Another image flashed onto the screen. The pan of the camera focus was a lot wider and covered a larger portion of the complex. Into view came a section of road below a grassy knoll. Along the bottom of the screen was a line of parked cars.
“This is one of the slip roads just below the flats.”
From the top of the screen the camera picked up two fuzzy images, silhouettes at first, but their movement was evident and no one could mistake it was the same two characters, from their attire. And they were struggling with the rolled up carpet. The one at the back slipped and his end of the carpet slumped to the ground.
The team watched as the person humped it back up towards his midriff and then the pair continued waddling down the slope with their bundle until they reached the road.
Barry zoomed the footage again. It was grainy but the images could be made out, though not satisfactorily enough for facial recognition.
The pair pulled the rug towards a white van parked amongst the row of vehicles. The one wearing the SEMTEX designer top opened its rear doors and the pair loaded in the bundle. Both jumped into the front of the van and it pulled away and drove out of camera view.
Barry freeze-framed the shot. In the top left hand corner was the time and date sequence — 9:52pm 01:08:08.
Hunter knew this all fitted. The time to travel from Sheffield to Barnwell Lake was approximately forty minutes. That meant that their witness, the sex worker, Kerri Ann Bairstow had been spot-on with her timings of her sightings of the two men and the white van at the Country Park.
“And for my encore,” he added with a flourish. He re-started the DVD player. “This was captured in the entranceway at one of the internal lifts.”
The image, which flickered onto the screen, showed a floor area with a squashed up section of lift doors at the top quarter of the screen.
There was little doubt in Hunter’s mind that from the angle of the shot this was captured by a camera at ceiling height.
Suddenly into view came the person in the SEMTEX designer hoody. He was bent double dragging the rolled up carpet. Quickly following into the frame, also doubled up, lumping the other end of the rug came another hooded figure. The clarity of these images was excellent and Hunter could see that sections of pattern on the rolled up carpet were a perfect match to those of the rug Samia’s body had been found wrapped up in. He had no doubt in his mind that he was watching the first stages of her being taken away from the place where she had just been raped and butchered.
They stopped by the lift doors, dropping both ends of the carpet and the character in the designer hoody straightened, easing out his back with his hands. As he pressed for the lift he flicked back his hood and stretched his neck. There was no mistaking that face — it was Ari Arshad.
Hunter wanted to punch the air.
“That lift is on the fifth floor. Now all you’ve got to do is some old fashioned door-knocking and you should have your attack site.”
Hunter studied Barry. A pneumatic drill couldn’t remove that sickly contented smirk on his face he thought. He was so pleased for him and so glad he had brought him onto the team.
“Ever thought about being a detective Barry?” said Hunter straight-faced, launching himself out of his seat.
The civilian investigator scrutinised him for a second then said “Detective Sergeant Kerr if I didn’t know you better I would say you’re jealous because an old hand has beaten you to the end-game.”
They both flashed a grin to one another.
“One up to you Barry,” returned Hunter wetting a finger and striking it in the air. “Well done you old fart.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment shall I. By the way I will accept payment with several pints of John Smiths amber nectar,” he finished, switching the TV off.
* * * * *
“Let me have a go at Jilani,” begged Grace after briefing.
Detective Superintendent Michael Robshaw had determined that now they had the CCTV evidence damming Ari there was no rush to re-interview him and that the team should focus on Samia’s parents since no one had spoken with them following their re-arrest the previous afternoon.
He had allocated that task to Hunter and Grace whilst sending the remainder of the team across to Sheffield to find Ari and Pervez’s place especially given that Barry had narrowed down the flat complex location and the floor level.
Hunter looked up from the notes he had scribbled.
“Let me try the empathy approach — Mother and daughter thing again. It might work this time coming from me. I can guess she’s been subservient to Mohammed for years and even afraid of him, but I can’t believe deep down that she is involved in all this. My gut instinct is she’s just keeping silent because she’s more afraid of her husband than she is of us.”
Hunter stroked his chin and mused over her comments.
“Okay let’s go for it.” He clicked the top back on his pen and slid the folder of evidence across the desk. “She’s all yours.”
* * * * *
Jilani looked haggard. Her dark hair was unkempt, her red and gold sari crumpled and black streaks stained her cheeks from her crying.
Grace could see Jilani had suffered a sleepless night and guessed that she would be jaded and feeling vulnerable. That all stacked in her favour for this interview.
An interpreter and her solicitor were present.
Hunter started the tape recording machine.
“Jilani I want to make things easy for you. Yesterday we interviewed your nephews Ari and Pervez and one of them has admitted being involved in the abduction of your daughter Samia.” Grace concentrated on Jilani’s face, watching her reactions as the interpreter repeated her opening lines in Urdu.
“He has also implicated your husband Mohammed in this, actually saying that your husband forced them to carry out the abduction under threat of violence.” Grace deliberately held back the sighting by Doctor Woolfe which negated this story so that they could hopefully stack up the evidence against Ari and Pervez.
There was a flicker in the woman’s eyes and a quick shake of the head.
“Mrs Hassan I don’t want to prolong this agony for you because what happened to your daughter was horrendous. But we have a duty to investigate this thoroughly and if we find you are involved in her murder then you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Jilani nodded even before the interpreter finished and Grace realised for the first time that the woman had a better understanding of English than she had initially made out. That was a good thing. It would be easier now for her to look for the signs in her facial expressions and body language.
“I’m going to show you some film footage now that was captured by CCTV cameras about two months ago at Meadowhall. I must warn you it is disturbing but I want you to concentrate on it.”
Hunter got up, switched on the small TV, and started the DVD rolling. It re-ran the same footage they had shown to Ari Arshad the previous day.
As it ran Grace never took her eyes off Jilani. Five minutes had gone by when the woman dropped her head onto her chest and started weeping. Grace knew at that point that the tape had just ended without seeing it happen. “I’m sorry you had to sit through that Mrs Hassan but I needed to show you just how your daughter started her suffering. I also have to tell you that we now believe she was held for five days before she was finally killed and during that time she was violently raped.”
Her anguish increased to a sob.
“I can tell you that we now have enough evidence to take this to court and prosecute for murder. Ari has implicated your husband in your daughter’s murder and your prolonged silence in all this is not going to help you. If you continue to refuse to talk then we will suspect you are involved in this and you will also go to court.”
Jilani looked up into Grace’s eyes. Black runny kohl eyeliner scarred her cheeks.