Necessary as Blood

my daughter has nothing more to tell you, and I must get back to my work.‘
    ‘Mr Hakim, we can interview your daughter here, or we can talk to her at the police station. A murder investigation does not revolve around your convenience. And Alia is of age — your presence is not required.‘
    ‘But I don‘t know what else I can tell you,‘ said Alia, with another anxious glance at her father, and Gemma thought they‘d get no more out of her in these circumstances.
    ‘We appreciate your time, Alia.‘ Having apparently come to the same conclusion, Kincaid stood and pulled a card from his pocket. ‘If you think of anything else, or need to get in touch—‘
    Alia plucked the card from his hand before her father could reach for it. ‘I‘ll walk you out. I‘ll only be a moment, Abba.‘ She obviously intended to forestall her father with speed, and Gemma just had time to say a quick goodbye to Mrs Hakim, earning another shy smile. As she followed Kincaid and Alia from the flat, she wondered how much of the conversation Alia‘s mother had understood.
    Alia led them out through the patio garden and onto the lawn, then, when she was out of earshot, turned back so that she could survey the flat. ‘You have to understand about my father,‘ she said quietly, vehemently. ‘I don‘t want you to think badly of him. He is not an uneducated man. In Bangladesh, he had a university degree. And he‘s a good businessman — he owns a call centre in Whitechapel Road. But he works all day with immigrants. He sees himself as an immigrant. His dream is to make enough money to retire in Bangladesh, and he wants...‘ She frowned, as if struggling to work out the words. ‘He doesn‘t want anything in this life to — to stain that one.‘ She took a breath and went on, more hurriedly, ‘But me — I‘m British first and Bangladeshi second. It doesn‘t mean I disrespect my parents or my culture, but it‘s different for me.‘
    Mrs Hakim came out of the flat and began hanging laundry on the patio, glancing over at them as she lifted a sheet from her basket.
    ‘Alia,‘ Gemma said urgently, afraid they would be interrupted, or that Alia would lose the nerve to make the confession she was obviously trying so hard to justify. ‘What is it that you don‘t want your father to know?‘
    ‘My father — he disapproved of Naz and Sandra‘s marriage, even though Naz was not Muslim. In Abba‘s eyes, it‘s not right for an Asian to be with a white person. And Sandra — if he knew about her family — he would think I‘d disgraced him, just by my connection with them. Even though I don‘t know them personally.‘ Alia cast a wary eye towards her mother and ran a finger between her chin and the hijab. ‘It‘s — what do you call it? Guilt by association.‘
    ‘What? How?‘ asked Gemma. ‘What could be that bad?‘
    ‘Drugs,‘ Alia whispered. ‘Sandra‘s brothers do drugs.‘
    Kincaid raised an eyebrow. ‘Alia, half the city does drugs. Surely that‘s not so unusual—‘
    ‘No.‘ Alia shook her head. ‘You don‘t understand. I don‘t mean they smoke a bit of weed or pop X at a party. I heard Naz and Sandra arguing, before Sandra disappeared. Sandra‘s brothers deal in heroin.‘

Chapter Twelve

In its heyday, the pub [the Bethnal Green Arms] had been the haunt of the Kray twins and various other East End underworld figures and thugs. But since then, its popularity had dwindled, possibly because the decor and ambience dated back to the same period.

Tarquin Hall, Salaam Brick Lane

    ‘I have to ring the social worker.‘ Standing in the street with Kincaid, beside their respective cars, Gemma fumbled in her bag for her mobile.
    ‘Slow down, love,‘ Kincaid said. ‘We have no idea if it‘s true, to begin with. Could be just a rumour, or could be the girl misheard or misunderstood, or she might even be making things up for a bit of drama. It sounds as if her life is going to be pretty grim without Naz Malik in it.‘
    ‘Yes, well, maybe so. But I don‘t think she‘s making it up. Tim said Sandra didn‘t get on with her brothers at all.‘
    ‘That‘s hearsay, and even if the brothers are involved with drugs, that doesn‘t mean Sandra‘s sister is as well. I‘m sure the little girl will be fine.‘
    ‘Charlotte. Her name is Charlotte,‘ said Gemma, and was surprised by her own vehemence. ‘And you can‘t know that she‘ll be all right. She‘s already lost both parents, at least as far as