Riot Act Read Online Free PDF Page A

with a local builder. Mr Ali had built up his business from nothing and Nasir much admired him. You certainly saw enough of Mr Ali’s green and purple painted vans driving round to vouch for his success.
     
    The man himself dredged up a weak smile for Mrs Gadatra, fluttering a hand to show that it really didn’t matter. There was only a slight tightening round the corners of his mouth, a stiffness to his neck, that called him a liar.
     
    I didn’t get the chance to express my doubts. He pointedly checked his gold wristwatch and glanced at Nasir. “We have to go now,” he said, smiling at the women to belie the hint of steel in his thready voice. “I have a meeting, and you are needed back on site, Nasir,” he said.
     
    Nasir nodded sullenly, head bowed. The fight seemed to have gone out of him.
     
    Mrs Gadatra got up to see them out, the soft folds of her bright silk sari rustling as she moved. “I’m sorry about my boy,” she said to Mr Ali, flashing Nasir a speaking look, but unable to stop defending him, even so. “He is upset about his uncle.”
     
    “I’m sure the police will do everything they can to bring those responsible to justice,” Mr Ali said, but his voice held little conviction.
     
    “I’m sure they will,” Mrs Gadatra agreed, but she sounded less convinced, or convincing, than he had. She turned to her son as he moved past her. “I want to hear no more talk of retribution, Nasir,” she said sharply. “Let the police take care of things.”
     
    Just for a moment, the fire was back in Nasir’s eyes. “They don’t know what’s going on, and they don’t care,” he muttered. He brought his head up, oddly seemed to look me straight in the face, as he added, “Maybe you should be asking who really profits from trying to rob an old man?”
     
    Mr Ali shot a quick, nervous glance to Shahida to see what effect the boy’s inflammatory words were having, but she was still sitting frozen on the sofa, and seemed oblivious. He grabbed hold of Nasir’s shoulder and practically hauled him out of the room. The front door banged shut behind them a few moments later.
     
    I would have turned and gone back to Shahida, but Mrs Gadatra laid a hand on my arm. It was half the size of Mr Ali’s, but it had the same detaining effect, nevertheless.
     
    “I think you should go now, too, Charlie,” she said to me, more softly than the tone she’d used on her son. “My sister has been through a lot. I’m sure she appreciates your calling, but she needs some peace.”
     
    There wasn’t an easy way to argue with her and, I must admit, I didn’t even try.
     
    Nasir’s words troubled me as I walked back over the road to Pauline’s. Surely there wasn’t anything more sinister behind the attack on Fariman than a group of frightened kids who’d panicked when they’d been cornered, and who had lashed out blindly.
     
    So, what did he mean about working out who’d profit from robbing an old man?
     
    I shrugged. It was rubbing me up the wrong way, but part of me just wanted to hope that Fariman recovered from his ordeal without any lasting side-effects, and to forget about it. Besides, I’d promised Pauline I wouldn’t do anything rash and, at that point, I really did fully intend to keep my word.
     
    Ah well.
     

Three
     
    As I approached Pauline’s place, I dug in my pocket for my keys, noticing out of habit the man leaning on a sleek-looking sports car by the kerb next to the house.
     
    He was middle-aged, balding, shortish and rather rotund, wearing a grey anorak that had three lots of carefully knotted drawstrings and a hood. As I drew nearer I could see that the skin of his face was pale and clammy. He mopped at it with a wilted blue cotton handkerchief.
     
    He certainly didn’t look the kind of bloke who’d own a Mercedes of any description, unless he was just cheekily using this one as a perch. Not that it was a new car, but a classic square-shaped SL convertible. The shine on