‘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.’
‘We’ll get you something else,’ said Barlow. ‘What would you like? Tea? Coffee? A Coke?’
‘I’d like to go home,’ said Malik.
‘Just a few more questions, please,’ said Barlow. ‘What time were you taken?’
‘About midnight. I’d been out with the lads and was on my way home. Someone shouted my name and when I turned something hit my head.’
‘Did they shout Mohammed or Sami?’
‘Sami. Like I said, no one calls me Mohammed.’
‘So whoever it was, they must have known you?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘And you didn’t recognise them?’
‘I didn’t see them. I just heard my name, turned, and bang.’ He reached up and rubbed the back of his head. ‘They could have killed me.’
‘And when you woke up?’
‘I was in a van with a hood over my head. They drove me to the warehouse and I spent most of my time lying on the floor before they tied me to the chair. Then I passed out, and when I woke up again I was wearing that fucking waistcoat.’
‘Your parents didn’t report you missing,’ said Barlow.
‘They probably didn’t realise I hadn’t come home. I usually get in late and leave for work before they’re up.’ He sat back in his chair and sighed. ‘It’s fucked up, isn’t it? Why me? Why the fuck did they pic
k on me?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to work out,’ said Chief Superintendent Gillard.
‘Wrong place, wrong time?’ suggested Malik.
‘No, they chose you,’ said Gillard. ‘They knew your name so it was you they wanted. You were all chosen, but the question is why.’
‘Yeah, well, when you finally do find this Shahid, give me a few moments alone with him, will you? I’d like to give him a good kicking for what he put me through.’
INTERVIEW WITH FAISAL CHAUDHRY (9.45 p.m.)
‘What time did they take you?’ Kamran asked Faisal Chaudhry. ‘You said it was after prayers at the mosque, but what time was that exactly?’
Chaudhry took a sip from his water bottle. ‘I was at the mosque for sunrise prayers,’ he said. ‘I was walking home at about six thirty. A man asked me for the time. As I looked at my watch, another man grabbed me from behind and put something over my mouth.’
‘The man who spoke to you, what did he look like?’
Chaudhry shrugged. ‘Asian, bearded … He had a woven skullcap and he was wearing a grey Pashtun, the long tunic and pants. But I didn’t get a good look at him.’
‘How old was he?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t really see him. He had his head down when he spoke.’
‘Do you think it was Shahid?’
Chaudhry frowned. ‘Maybe.’
‘And what happened then?’
‘The next thing I remember is waking up tied to a chair with a hood over my head. Then he told us all what we had to do and that’s when he killed the guy who was arguing.’
‘But you didn’t argue? Or put up a fight?’
Chaudhry tilted his head to one side, frowning. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You didn’t resist?’
‘Are you fucking serious, man? I’d just seen a man blown into a million fucking pieces. We were all in shock. He killed the guy without a second thought.’
Kamran nodded. ‘I understand. But walking into a pub and holding dozens of people hostage, that’s a ballsy thing to do.’
‘Ballsy?’
‘It’s not easy, is what I meant. You had to control a lot of people. You had to get them to do what you wanted them to do.’
‘Hey, now, let’s get this clear,’ said Chaudhry. ‘This wasn’t my fucking idea. I was following Shahid’s orders and he said I was being watched and that if I didn’t follow his instructions he’d detonate the vest. I’d have been dead. Do you get that?’
‘I get it,’ said Kamran. ‘And the people you were holding hostage, they were scared?’
‘Of course they were scared. They knew what was happening. And then that YouTube video started playing. That was heavy stuff. So, yeah, everyone was scared.’
‘What’s your opinion of ISIS, Mr Chaudhry?’
‘Idiots,’ he said.
‘Really?’
‘They’re fucking nutters, seriously. You’ve seen what they do, right?’
‘But you’re sympathetic to Al-Qaeda, aren’t you?’
Chaudhry’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘It’s a feeling I get,’ said Kamran. There was nothing to be gained from letting Chaudhry know that MI5 were aware he had been in an Al-Qaeda training camp.
Chaudhry leant forward, his face so close that Kamran could smell the man’s stale breath. ‘You’re a Muslim, right?’
‘I am.’
‘Then are you telling me you didn’t feel any pride when the Sheikh struck back at the Americans?’
‘By flying planes full of innocent people into office blocks? Why would I take pride in that?’
‘Because finally Muslims were fighting back. For years America helped Israel destroy the Palestinians and the world stood by. But when the Sheikh launched his attacks, the world took notice.’
‘So what happened today, you’re happy with it, are you? You’re happy with what Shahid was trying to achieve?’
‘No fucking way. I was scared shitless. And, like I said, ISIS are nutters. They kill people for the fun of it. You’ve seen what they do to gays? That’s just fucked up. I’ve got gay mates. You don’t go around killing people just because they’re gay. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight for our religion.’
‘We don’t have to fight for Islam, not in England,’ said Kamran. ‘Here you can be whatever you want to be. Here people aren’t persecuted for their religion.’
‘The fight is a worldwide fight,’ said Chaudhry. ‘We have to support our brothers and sisters no matter where they are.’
‘And what about those countries where women have to cover their faces and are not allowed to drive, where gays are stoned to death and a woman can be beaten for wearing the wrong clothes? You have to support those regimes, do you?’
Chaudhry gripped the plastic bottle so hard that it burst and water spilt over the desk, but he was glaring so intently at Kamran that he didn’t seem to notice. He opened his mouth to speak, then visibly relaxed and sat back in his chair. ‘I want a solicitor,’ he said.
‘You don’t need a solicitor, Mr Chaudhry,’ said Kamran. ‘You haven’t been charged with anything.’
Chaudhry stood up. ‘Then I want to go home. Now.’
INTERVIEW WITH TARIQ MASOOD (10.00 p.m.)
Gillard sipped his coffee as he watched Sergeant Barlow interview Tariq Masood. He really wanted a cigarette but it was vital to get all the preliminary interviews conducted as quickly as possible, so his nicotine fix would have to wait.
‘Tell me again how you came to be abducted,’ said Barlow.
‘I’ve told you three times already,’ complained Masood.
‘I just want to make sure you haven’t forgotten something,’ said Barlow. ‘Sometimes the more you tell something, the more details you remember.’
‘There’s nothing to remember,’ said Masood. ‘I was in bed. I thought I heard something. I sat up, went to the bedroom door and someone grabbed me and put something over my face. I passed out and when I woke up I was tied to a chair with a hood over my face.’
‘Did they say anything to you?’
‘In my house? No. I don’t even know how many of them there were.’
‘And this Shahid, the man that threatened you, did you recognise him?’
‘He had a ski mask on. I told you that.’
‘What about his voice? Did you recognise his voice?’
Masood shook his head.
‘Did he sound foreign? Or British?’
‘British, for sure. Bit of a London accent, maybe.’
‘London, are you sure?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not good with accents.’
Barlow made a note on his pad. ‘Young? Old?’
‘Thirty, maybe. Looked like he worked out, you know? He was wearing overalls but I could see he was fit. He spends time in the gym, I’m sure of that.’ He consulted his watch. ‘I want to go home,’ he said. ‘I need to get a shower.’
‘Just a few more questions and then we’ll take you wherever you want to go,’ said Barlow.
INTERVIEW WITH MOHAMED OSMAN (10.20 p.m.)
‘When that poor man was blown up, I was so sure I was going to die,’ said Mohamed Osman. ‘Shahid killed him without a second thought, as if he was no more than an animal.’ He shuddered. ‘May Allah rest his soul in peace.’
‘And why was this man killed?’ asked Kamran.
‘He said he wouldn’t do what Shahid wanted, sir. Shahid said we had to obey him, and that if we didn’t, we would die too.’
‘What about the trigger you were holding?’
‘Shahid said the trigger would not work, sir. He said the only way the bomb could be detonated was by the phone he carried. Sir, check the bomb for yourself, you will see that I am telling the truth.’
‘Which mosque do you attend, Mohamed?’
‘I do not go to the mosque to pray, sir. I sometimes pray with my family at home.’
‘Why do you not go to the mosque?’
‘It is not our way, sir. And the mosques near us are not for Somalians.’
‘The mosques are for all Muslims,’ said Kamran.
Osman forced a smile. ‘That is what they say, sir. But the Pakistanis at our local mosques do not make us welcome.’
‘And how do you feel about ISIS?’
Osman frowned. ‘How do I feel, sir? What do you mean?’
‘Are you sympathetic to their aims?’
Osman shook his head. ‘Oh, no, sir. I lived in Somalia before I moved to England. I have seen that violence solves nothing.’ He reached up to touch the wicked scar that ran across his left cheek. ‘When I was a child, robbers came to our house. They did this to me to force my father to hand over everything we had. My family came here to escape violence. That is the wonderful thing about England. Here we all live together in peace.’ He grimaced. ‘That is what I thought, anyway. Until today. I did not think that something like this would ever happen to me. Not in England.’ He shuddered again. ‘Do you think you will catch this man, sir? Do you think you will make this Shahid pay for his crimes?’
‘I certainly hope so, Mr Osman.’
Osman nodded enthusiastically. ‘I hope so too, sir. That is one of the great things about this country. There is justice for all.’
LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (10.45 p.m.)
‘Well, that’s it, then,’ said Gillard, blowing smoke towards the Houses of Parliament. He was standing with Kamran on the terrace outside the canteen. ‘They were all in fear for their lives.’
‘The timeline fits, too,’ said Kamran. ‘Starting with Zach Ahmed and ending with Faisal Chaudhry, they were abducted, fitted with the vests and terrorised. They all tell the same story, pretty much.’
‘Plus they all have the same throwaway mobile phones and typewritten instructions. We’re getting them checked for DNA and prints but I’m guessing that Shahid won’t have left any traces.’ He blew a tight plume of smoke towards the Shard. ‘We need to find out where they were taken to,’ he continued. ‘They all give the same description of the factory or warehouse where they were held. I’m guessing somewhere in south London because that’s where the first drop-offs were. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.’
‘And we have a murder enquiry now,’ said Kamran. ‘How do you want to handle that?’
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