You Don't Know Me

Is justice absolute or are there different kinds of justice depending on who you are?

Is morality absolute or are there grey areas? How do we identify those areas?

When must personal responsibility give ground to personal circumstances?

Is guilt absolute or, for the sake of fairness, should it be viewed through a ‘circumstantial’ lens?

What is truth and does its weight alter in the gravitational pull of deprivation?

Do we instinctively reject the notion of innocent till proven guilty?

How much disadvantage does a defendant face simply by virtue of the fact that he is facing a charge?

Can we ever really know anyone? And how do we set about judging those we cannot properly know?

Acknowledgements

To Mama, who told me the first stories I ever heard and who instilled in me a love of reading that remains my constant companion. Without your prayers and support, nothing good I ever did could ever have happened.

To Dad, who taught me the importance of reading. Anything. Everything. Just as long as I kept reading.

And to them both together, who made me believe, despite everything, that with hard work anything was possible and that everything could be reached.

To Sadia, my wife. My life. My first reader. My second reader. My last reader, and everything in between. I write for you. Thank you for everything. For reading endless drafts. For all your ideas. For your patience. Mostly, though, for your love and faith. I still remember the words that inspired this book, ‘Just write something that isn’t boring.’ I hope, at least in part, I managed that. I love you, wife. No I don’t. Yes I do.

To my brothers and sisters, Kash, Omer, Khurrum and Aiysha. I always find my way home just by thinking about you. Thank you for making me laugh even when I am not with you.

To the Amazing Book People.

To my heavenly agent Camilla Wray (you did say ‘heavenly’, right?). Without you this book was destined for nothing but the quiet and lonely disintegration of bits and bytes on an old laptop. Thank you for your belief. Thank you for taking the countless rough edges away and for your polish and your ability to make a hazy and lacklustre thing a thing that could sparkle. Thank you for all the heavy lifting. And for Emad, and for making him buy it! If Carlsberg made agents, they’d probably make you – probably the best agent in the world.

To all those others at Darley Anderson who combined their energies for this book. Thank you. And particular thanks to Marc Simonsson for all his work on the TV and film side of things. You are all top class and there was never a moment when I did not feel completely safe in your hands.

To my first editor, Emad Akhtar, my spiritual brother. Thank you for everything. I am so lucky to have had the benefit of your genius on this adventure. Without you there would be no book. I cannot thank you enough for all your hard work. The detailed eye that you cast over every line. The friendship. The laughs. That cover! The huge store of street slang you had in your locker. Who’d have known! Yaar, if my book had been a damsel, you’d have been its champion. Thank you.

To the peerless Jessica Leeke at Michael Joseph for the smooth and effortless way that you took over from Emad. You did it so well that it feels that you have always been there. Thank you for your ideas, your enthusiasm, and all the things that I know you do behind the scenes, silently and secretly, but wonderfully.

To all the brilliant young things at Michael Joseph who do such sterling and difficult but masterful work. A special thank you to my amazing publicity manager Laura Nicol and the talented and relentless Katie Bowden for all their hard work, and for scattering their magic so liberally and generously. To so many others, like Annabel Wilson, Emma Brown and Sophie Wilson, and to all those hidden people who have done so much to bring this book into being.

To Leo Nickolls who designed such a beautiful and striking cover. What genius!

To Ruth Kenley-Letts and Jenny Van der Lande at Snowed-In Productions who showed such faith in my work. Thank you!

I am grateful also for the chance to acknowledge Rian Malan whose spectacular tour de force, My Traitor’s Heart, inspired the scene in the book with the Hammerman. I recommend it to you unreservedly. Reading it enriched my life in more ways than I can describe.

To all my early readers and friends and colleagues in Chambers and at the Bar, thank you for taking the time out of your busy lives to humour me.

To Stephan, my brother, my bluds. Thank you. For your brotherhood. Your friendship. Your support. Your joy. Your randomness. Your humour. Your surreality? Everybody should have a friend like you but very few people do. Thank you for every bit of excitement you celebrated with me along the way. U R Z 1. Curt.

And finally to Zozo, who can brighten every dark corner in my life with just one smile and with just one word. ‘Biiiinng!’