taken with the idea and was making noises about a press conference for the parents.
‘What about this letter?’ he demanded at the daily update he’d insisted on. ‘If it’s genuine, it was a pretty open threat.’
‘Forensics have found nothing on it,’ said Mariner. ‘And it’s hard to tell how genuine it is, given that it’s such an indistinguishable note. The Akrams have had similar stuff in the past.’
‘But this follows the consortium letter to the press: a provocative act if ever there was one. If the initial campaign has failed to subdue them - which it patently has - then the perpetrators might feel that it’s time to do something more dramatic. And so far, you don’t seem to have come up with any other logical reason why Yasmin should have gone missing.’
‘We’re still exploring all the possibilities.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, for one thing we’ve learned that everything in the Akram household wasn’t as rosy as we’d been led to believe. Mr Akram and his daughter had disagreed.’
‘I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep the family under scrutiny, but you can do that while following up other avenues. The racist incidents have to be examined. Mohammed Akram has sent us a list of dates and occurrences going back over three years.’
‘I haven’t seen that.’
‘It was passed directly to the superintendent. This is a copy.’
Mariner took the sheet. The incidents were as Akram had described them to him yesterday, fairly low level: excreta through the letterbox, windows broken, graffiti sprayed, sometimes as often as weekly and usually at night. Up until now the school had always been the target. Attached to the list was a copy of the letter written to the local press, by Akram and several other business owners in the area, denouncing what they called ‘terrorism by stealth’ perpetrated by ‘those too weak to reveal themselves’. It described The Right Way as a club for cowards who indulged in covert, petty crime instead of openly confronting the issues. The question was whether it was enough to prompt such drastic action from The Right Way and, if so, could they expect a ransom note at any time?
‘And that, Inspector, should be your next line of enquiry.’
Mariner opened his mouth to complain, but stopped himself. It was a valid route that would have to be pursued at some time. They may as well do it now and with any luck, his deference would keep Fiske off his back for a few hours.
But before entering the lion’s den, Mariner wanted a bit more information about the man they might be dealing with. Detective Sergeant Bev Jordan came over from the Racial Crimes Unit at Lloyd House to talk to him and Millie.
‘What do you need to know?’ she asked when they were installed in Mariner’s office.
‘Everything there is to know about Peter Cox.’
Jordan grimaced. ‘He’s a nasty piece of work in every respect. He runs a very active cell of The Right Way who hold extreme views on repatriation, birth control programmes and all the rest of it. He’s denounced the BNP for being too moderate.’
‘What a charmer.’
‘You said it.’
Mariner handed Jordan the leaflet Mohammed Akram had given him. ‘Is this one of his?’
Jordan nodded. ‘This is exactly the sort of stuff he writes. In the past there have been various threats against groups and individuals. And he has his own little band of fanatically loyal followers in the south of the city and beyond, mainly recruited via the Internet, though not exclusively. He spreads the word in local pubs, particularly those on white, working class housing estates: areas of high social deprivation where white kids are pretty frustrated with their lot, but generally powerless to do anything about it. One of his main themes is the threat of Islamic fundamentalism. Muslims taking over jobs, local businesses—’
‘And schools.’
‘Particularly schools, because that’s where it’s all seen to be taught. He’d be
‘What about this letter?’ he demanded at the daily update he’d insisted on. ‘If it’s genuine, it was a pretty open threat.’
‘Forensics have found nothing on it,’ said Mariner. ‘And it’s hard to tell how genuine it is, given that it’s such an indistinguishable note. The Akrams have had similar stuff in the past.’
‘But this follows the consortium letter to the press: a provocative act if ever there was one. If the initial campaign has failed to subdue them - which it patently has - then the perpetrators might feel that it’s time to do something more dramatic. And so far, you don’t seem to have come up with any other logical reason why Yasmin should have gone missing.’
‘We’re still exploring all the possibilities.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, for one thing we’ve learned that everything in the Akram household wasn’t as rosy as we’d been led to believe. Mr Akram and his daughter had disagreed.’
‘I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep the family under scrutiny, but you can do that while following up other avenues. The racist incidents have to be examined. Mohammed Akram has sent us a list of dates and occurrences going back over three years.’
‘I haven’t seen that.’
‘It was passed directly to the superintendent. This is a copy.’
Mariner took the sheet. The incidents were as Akram had described them to him yesterday, fairly low level: excreta through the letterbox, windows broken, graffiti sprayed, sometimes as often as weekly and usually at night. Up until now the school had always been the target. Attached to the list was a copy of the letter written to the local press, by Akram and several other business owners in the area, denouncing what they called ‘terrorism by stealth’ perpetrated by ‘those too weak to reveal themselves’. It described The Right Way as a club for cowards who indulged in covert, petty crime instead of openly confronting the issues. The question was whether it was enough to prompt such drastic action from The Right Way and, if so, could they expect a ransom note at any time?
‘And that, Inspector, should be your next line of enquiry.’
Mariner opened his mouth to complain, but stopped himself. It was a valid route that would have to be pursued at some time. They may as well do it now and with any luck, his deference would keep Fiske off his back for a few hours.
But before entering the lion’s den, Mariner wanted a bit more information about the man they might be dealing with. Detective Sergeant Bev Jordan came over from the Racial Crimes Unit at Lloyd House to talk to him and Millie.
‘What do you need to know?’ she asked when they were installed in Mariner’s office.
‘Everything there is to know about Peter Cox.’
Jordan grimaced. ‘He’s a nasty piece of work in every respect. He runs a very active cell of The Right Way who hold extreme views on repatriation, birth control programmes and all the rest of it. He’s denounced the BNP for being too moderate.’
‘What a charmer.’
‘You said it.’
Mariner handed Jordan the leaflet Mohammed Akram had given him. ‘Is this one of his?’
Jordan nodded. ‘This is exactly the sort of stuff he writes. In the past there have been various threats against groups and individuals. And he has his own little band of fanatically loyal followers in the south of the city and beyond, mainly recruited via the Internet, though not exclusively. He spreads the word in local pubs, particularly those on white, working class housing estates: areas of high social deprivation where white kids are pretty frustrated with their lot, but generally powerless to do anything about it. One of his main themes is the threat of Islamic fundamentalism. Muslims taking over jobs, local businesses—’
‘And schools.’
‘Particularly schools, because that’s where it’s all seen to be taught. He’d be
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