‘Why do you say that?’
‘I heard them moving. And talking, sometimes.’
‘What did you hear them talking about?’
‘Just voices. The hood muffled what they were saying.’
‘And definitely more than two people?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe. It just felt as if there were more. They let me use a toilet once and there were definitely two men then.’
‘And no one reported you missing?’
‘My family’s in Leicester,’ he said.
‘No girlfriend?’
Ahmed smiled. ‘No one wants a man with no money these days,’ he said. ‘I’d really like to go home. I’ve got to work the early shift tomorrow.’
‘What is it you do?’
‘I’m a security guard.’
‘Where do you work, Mr Ahmed?’
‘It varies. They move us around to stop us being complacent. I’m in the East End tomorrow.’
‘Wouldn’t your employer have been worried that you didn’t turn up for work yesterday?’
‘Of course. But they would probably have assumed I was sick.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Really, I’d like to go now.’
‘We’d like you to give us a DNA sample and your fingerprints before you go.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s just procedure.’
‘I’m not being arrested, am I?’
‘No, there’s no question of that.’
‘Because I was forced into it. I had no choice.’
‘We understand that,’ said Barlow.
‘How do you feel about ISIS, Mr Ahmed?’ asked Gillard.
‘They’re a bunch of murderers who give Islam a bad name,’ said Ahmed. ‘They haven’t been released, have they? The ISIS prisoners in Belmarsh?’
‘No, they’re all back behind bars.’
‘That’s something at least,’ said Ahmed. He glanced at his watch. ‘Now, please, I’d like to go home.’
‘It might take us a while to arrange a car,’ said Gillard. ‘And we will need to keep your shoes and clothing, I’m afraid.’
‘But I can get compensation, right? For my clothes?’
‘I’ll make sure you get the requisite forms,’ said the chief superintendent.
‘What about my wages?’ asked Ahmed. ‘Can I have a letter or something that explains what happened? I’m on a zero-hours contract and they’ll use any excuse not to pay me.’
‘I’m sure we’ll be able to do something for you,’ said the chief superintendent.
INTERVIEW WITH ISMAIL HUSSAIN (9.15 p.m.)
‘When the vest exploded, I couldn’t believe it,’ said Ismail Hussain. ‘The whole place shook and there was blood and bits of body. I’ve never seen anything like it outside of the movies.’
‘You were frightened?’ said Kamran. He sipped his coffee. Hussain was holding a bottle of water with both hands as if he feared it would be taken from him. Sergeant Lumley was sitting next to Kamran, taking notes.
‘I was terrified,’ said Hussain. ‘He killed the man without even thinking about it. He picked up his phone, pressed a button and bang!’
‘What did he say about the trigger you had in your hand?’
‘He said it wouldn’t work, He said the only way the bomb could be detonated was by phone. But we had to make people think we were going to kill them. That’s what he said. And he said that if we got the six ISIS warriors freed, we would all be able to go home.’
‘How do you feel about ISIS?’ asked Kamran.
Hussain’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why does that matter?’
‘You’re a Muslim. They’re fighting for Islam, so they say. Do you agree with what they’re doing?’
‘Do you?’
‘With the greatest of respect, Mr Hussain, I wasn’t the one caught wearing a suicide vest.’
‘I was forced to wear it,’ said Hussain. ‘I told you that. They knocked me out and when I woke up I was tied to a chair and wearing the vest. I’ve told you that a dozen times. Why does it matter what I believe in? You’re a Muslim too, right? Are you an ISIS fan?’
‘I’m never a fan of people who go around committing murder, who rape women and throw gays off roofs,’ said Kamran.
‘And you think I am?’
‘You’re a member of a group called Muslims Against Crusades. You’ve burned poppies and demonstrated against our armed forces.’
‘I’m allowed to express an opinion, aren’t I? It’s still a free country. I burnt a few paper flowers. I shouted at soldiers. Are you going to send me to prison for that?’
‘No one is threatening to send you to prison, Mr Hussain.’
Hussain held up his arms. ‘Then why are you forcing me to wear this? Are you sending me to Guantánamo Bay so the Americans can torture me?’
‘Please, Mr Hussain, there’s no need to get upset. We need our Forensics people to examine your clothing for evidence. I apologise for what you’re wearing now but it’s all we have. As soon as we’re done with this interview, we’ll get you home, I promise. But at the moment we’re trying to work out why you were kidnapped.’
‘And you think it was because I’m a Muslim?’
‘We’re fairly sure that’s the case. But there are more than a million Muslims living in London and we’d like to know why you were chosen.’
‘So why are you asking me about ISIS?’
‘Because you might have come into contact with this man Shahid before. You might know him.’
Hussain shook his head. ‘No. I didn’t recognise his voice. Now, please, I want to go home. I am a British citizen. I have rights.’
INTERVIEW WITH MOHAMMED SAMI MALIK (9.30 p.m.)
Sergeant Barlow smiled at Mohammed Sami Malik and asked him if he needed anything else to eat or drink. He had been given an apple and a banana and a glass of orange juice. ‘I just want to go home,’ said Malik.
‘Home is Southall, right?’ said Barlow. ‘You live with your parents?’
Malik nodded. ‘They’ll be worried shitless.’
‘We’ve already informed them that you’re safe and well and they’re coming to collect you.’
Malik groaned. ‘Shit.’
‘What’s the problem, Sami?’ asked Gillard. He was standing by the door, his arms folded. ‘What’s the problem with your parents coming?’
‘My mum’s gonna be frantic, that’s what. Especially when she sees me like this.’ He gestured at the paper suit he was wearing. ‘She’ll go mental. She’ll be sure I’ve done something wrong.’
‘We’ve told them you’re helping us with our enquiries, Sami,’ said Barlow. ‘No one’s going to think you did anything wrong. From what you’ve told us, you were forced into it. You were in fear for your life?’
‘Like I keep telling you, Shahid was running the show. He was the only one who could detonate the vests, using his mobile. He said if we didn’t do exactly as he said, he’d blow us up.’
‘And you believed him?’
‘Fuck, yeah.’
‘Because?’
‘Because he killed a guy, blew him to fucking smithereens.’
‘Where was this?’
‘Some factory or something. The place where we were being held.’
‘Tell me about that place.’
‘I didn’t see much,’ said Malik. ‘Most of the time I had a hood on.’
‘But when the hood was off, what did you see?’
‘It was an old place, concrete floors and metal girders overhead. There were pigeons in the roof. They scattered when the bomb went off.’
‘Could you hear anything outside? Traffic? Trains? Planes overhead?’
Malik shook his head. ‘He only took the hood off that one time to tell us what we had to do. I don’t remember much about the place. After he’d killed the guy he put the hood back on and put us in the van.’ He sipped his juice and grimaced. ‘This tastes like shit.’