Necessary as Blood

with Rashid Kaleem. Glancing up at the spray-painted wall, he asked, ‘That yours?‘
    ‘Have to keep my skills up,‘ Kaleem said with a grin.
    ‘Nobody minds?‘
    ‘Nobody comes down here voluntarily. Look.‘ He stopped them as they turned to leave. ‘About Weller. He did the right thing turning this over to you. He‘s a good copper, but this — I think this is something that‘s out of his league. Just watch yourselves.‘

    Gemma sat through what seemed another interminable staff meeting, fighting post-lunch dullness as she listened to Sergeant Talley trying to micromanage everyone else‘s cases. She‘d had trouble with the career sergeant repeatedly, and she supposed it was time to have another little talk. But it was better done privately, in her office.
    She wondered, not for the first time, why Melody Talbot, who was much more competent than most of the department‘s sergeants, was content to stay a detective constable. Gemma had broached the subject of promotion a few times, telling Melody she‘d be glad to make a recommendation, but Melody had merely smiled, said she‘d think about it and never raised the subject again. It seemed odd, as everything else about her performance and character marked her as a highflyer.
    Gemma had decided she was going to have to interrupt the long-winded sergeant when her phone clattered and scooted across the conference table like a crab, then beeped stridently. So much for the inconspicuous ‘Vibrate‘ option. Aware of all eyes on her, Gemma grabbed the mobile and read the text message from Kincaid, a succinct Ring me.
    ‘I‘ll have to take this,‘ she said, escaping gladly into the corridor. ‘You‘ve just rescued me from staffing hell,‘ she said when he answered. ‘What‘s up?‘
    ‘And I‘ve just had a meeting with your pathologist,‘ Kincaid said.
    ‘My pathologist?‘ Gemma decided to ignore the teasing note. ‘Dr Kaleem? What did he say?‘
    ‘Naz Malik was pumped full of Valium and ketamine.‘
    ‘Ketamine? You think it was suicide, then,‘ said Gemma, ‘or accidental overdose.‘ She felt an odd stab of regret. Not of course that she wanted Naz Malik to have been murdered — that was unthinkable — but she hated the idea that he could have willingly abandoned Charlotte to an unknown fate.
    Kincaid interrupted her thoughts. ‘No, actually, Kaleem doesn‘t believe the drugs were self-administered.‘ He went on to detail the pathologist‘s reasoning. ‘Kaleem‘s adamant. And if he‘s right, it means that we not only have a murder that was premeditated, but we have a murderer who was willing to bide his time and watch Naz Malik die.‘
    Gemma digested this, feeling ice down her spine. ‘He?‘
    ‘Grammatically speaking.‘
    ‘A man is more likely, if Kaleem believes Naz was walked or carried into the park.‘
    ‘Malik wasn‘t a particularly large man. A strong woman might have managed. Or two people.‘
    ‘But how would you get the drugs into an unwilling victim?‘ she asked.
    ‘I‘d assume the Valium could have been administered in drink or food, at least enough to make the victim compliant,‘ Kincaid said. ‘I don‘t know about the ketamine. We‘ll have to talk to Kaleem again.‘
    ‘We?‘ said Gemma with a little jolt of excitement. Kincaid responded with a question of his own. ‘You‘re planning to visit your mum this afternoon, right? So you‘ll be in the East End. And you‘ve met the nanny...‘ She heard a rustle of paper, as if he were checking notes. ‘Alia Hakim. I‘ll need to interview her, and I thought it would be helpful if you came along.‘

    Kincaid had given Gemma the address of the council estate in Bethnal Green where Alia lived with her parents. It was not a high-rise, Gemma saw with relief, and the brown brick blocks were interspersed with panels of turquoise plaster. If the council had intended to add a note of cheer, it seemed the residents had responded in kind. There was an unusually well-kept common lawn. Flags of laundry hung bleaching in the sun on balconies and on the ground-floor patios, amid hanging baskets and the inevitable chained bikes.
    The Hakims lived in a ground-floor flat at one end of a unit, with access through a gated front patio fenced with eight-foot-high chicken wire. Shrubs had been planted outside the fence, and beside the gate a half-whisky barrel planter held a large palm. A framework of wooden slats had been built over the garden to hold a canvas canopy, now