Necessary as Blood

park?
    ‘Interesting, the DI from Notting Hill getting herself involved,‘ commented Rashid, as if guilty of mind reading.
    ‘Interesting, or interested?‘ teased Weller. ‘She‘s a looker.‘
    ‘She looks attached. I can spot it from a mile away. I‘ve got radar for these things. And you‘re prevaricating.‘
    ‘Ooh, they teach you big words in medical school,‘ Weller retorted, but he knew Rashid was right. ‘So, you still convinced this guy didn‘t top himself?‘
    Rashid shot him a look. ‘We‘ll see what comes back on the tox. But I still think he was heavily sedated when he died. And if he was that trashed, how did he get himself to the park and onto the trail? He didn‘t take anything when he got there — not unless he had a handful of loose pills in his pocket and swallowed them without liquid. I went through his clothes. No pill bottles, no syringes, and the techs didn‘t find a drink or a water bottle near the body.‘
    ‘I had the SOCOs bag the rubbish in the bin at the park entrance,‘ said Weller. ‘We‘ll check it for his prints.‘
    Well, I suppose he might have got that far,‘ Kaleem said, going on with his stitching, ‘but I think you‘re reaching for it. If it was a suicide, why dispose of the evidence?‘
    ‘Because he didn‘t want his daughter to grow up knowing he‘d killed himself?‘
    ‘He‘d have known the drugs would show up on a tox screen, so what would be the point?‘ asked Kaleem.
    ‘Maybe he thought we‘d assume he dropped dead of a heart attack.‘
    ‘You said this guy was a lawyer. Give him a bit of credit.‘
    Weller tried one more time. ‘You‘re sure he didn‘t croak from natural causes?‘
    ‘No. He was still breathing when he fell. I found bits of dirt and leaf mould in his nostrils. No sign of stroke or aneurism. A bit thin, as I said earlier, but not enough to cause him any problems. Other than that, your Mr Malik was as healthy as a horse. Except, of course, for the unfortunate fact that he‘s dead.‘ Rashid finished closing the Y incision with a neat knot. He unfolded a sheet over the body, then stripped off his gloves. ‘I‘ll send you the transcribed copy of my report. And you can have the techs pick up the personal effects. I‘ve already sent the hair and fibre that I gathered off to the lab.‘
    He glanced at the evidence bag on the cart by the door and frowned. ‘Could have sworn I put the phone in first.‘ There was a slim mobile phone near the top of the bag. Rashid shrugged. ‘Double shift. Too much coffee, not enough sleep.‘ He fixed Weller with the penetrating stare he usually reserved for the non-responsive. ‘So what‘s up with you, old man? It‘s more than a champagne hangover. Why are you so determined to prove this wasn‘t murder?‘
    Weller straightened up, sighed. ‘Because if Naz Malik was murdered, I suspect it means I screwed up. Big time. And that means this case is out of my hands.‘
    Chapter Ten

...the land which is now Bangladesh was part of India until the partition in 1947, then it was East Pakistan from 1947 until the 1971 war of liberation, which saw the birth of Bangladesh as an independent nation.

Geoff Dench, Kate Gavron, Michael Young,
The New East End: Kinship, Race and Conflict

    Another weekend spent finding excuses to come in to work. Worse still, Doug Cullen had even managed to get his guv‘nor in on a Sunday afternoon, which hadn‘t earned him any scout points. Sitting at his desk in his office at the Yard, Kincaid had pushed the printouts aside, steepled his fingers, given him a look worthy of the chief super and said, ‘Just how bored are you, Doug?‘
    ‘Don‘t know what you mean, guv,‘ Cullen had said, but he‘d coloured, knowing full well.
    ‘This report could have waited until tomorrow morning.‘
    ‘But I thought if the chief had it first thing...‘ He‘d sounded lame even to himself.
    ‘Get a hobby, Doug. Check out the joys of Face-book or something.‘ Kincaid stood and stretched. He‘d come to the office in T-shirt and jeans, hair rumpled. ‘I‘m going home. And the next time you call me in on a Sunday, it had better be life or death.‘
    Cullen had stayed for a bit in the empty office, but not even the Yard‘s air-conditioning had kept up with the heat of the afternoon. The room was stuffy, and the building had that stale, dregs-of-the-week feel that came with Sunday afternoons. When the janitors came through, he‘d switched off the computer and left them