Delaney sat down again, put his hands flat on his knees and leaned forward, his expression apologising for asking the question.
‘Was it him?’
Gloria took another sip of her water and looked back at him. ‘I don’t know, Jack. I’m sorry.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’
‘That’s just it, though, isn’t it?’ said Gloria. ‘I might have
Delaney nodded.
‘And what about that poor kid who’s been taken? What has that got to do with him? What’s it got to do with me?’ Her voice trembled.
‘It’s got nothing to do with you, sweetheart. You’re safe. No one knows who you are. No one knows where you live.’
Gloria looked up at Delaney again, her small hands clasping one another. ‘What’s going to happen to him? To the little boy?’
Delaney stood up and looked at her steadily. ‘‘We’re going to find him, Gloria. That’s what!’
‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
Mary shot him a reproving glance but Delaney ignored it, gesturing for Sally to join him as he stood up.
‘We’re going to find him and return him home safe to his mother. You have my word on that!’
*
DI Tony Bennett watched as a nurse held a clear plastic cup of water to Jamil Azeez’s lips and he took a swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his slender neck.
‘Not too much, now,’ said the nurse, letting him have another sip before she took the cup away. Bennett smiled gratefully at the nurse. She was petite, with midnight-black hair and delicate Asiatic features.
‘And not too long!’ she said to him reprovingly. ‘He is still very far from well and the last thing he needs right now is any added stress.’
‘I understand,’ Bennett said.
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
Bennett watched her walk from the room, pulling the door closed behind her and nodding to Danny Vine who was standing guard outside. Then he looked at his watch, pulled the bedside chair closer to the bed and sat down on it. ‘Pulled yourself a cracker there,’ he said to the patient.
Jamil Azeez blinked his eyes in what could have been a sign of accord and croaked something that could have been an agreement.
‘Do you know who did this to you? Do you know who hurt you?’ asked the DI.
Jamil shook his head. ‘No,’ he said in another painful croak.
‘Can you tell me anything of what happened?’
The patient shook his head and winced. Bennett put his hand on his arm. ‘Okay, try not to move. Try not to upset yourself. I don’t want to have that pretty nurse telling me off.’
Jamil swallowed again and nodded almost imperceptibly.
‘What do you remember?’
‘Nothing. I can’t remember a thing.’
Bennett was taken aback a little – Jamil’s accent was pure British.
‘You speak very good English, Jamil. How long have you been here? You’re in your second year at university, is that right?’
Jamil blinked his eyes. He had long dark lashes. ‘Yes, but I grew up here. My family moved back to Iran five years ago. English is my first language.’
‘What can you remember?’
‘I don’t know.’
He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut as if he could somehow press some memories from them. ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember.’ He opened them again, clearly distraught. ‘I just don’t know.’
‘It’s okay, Jamil,’ said Bennett sympathetically. ‘It’s not uncommon. After a tragic accident it is quite normal sometimes for the brain to shut out memories. Hide them away until you can deal with them. Usually they do come back. That was what the lovely nurse said, and I guess she knows her stuff.’
‘But this wasn’t an accident, was it?’
Bennett looked at him sympathetically. ‘No. It wasn’t.’
Jamil blinked back tears, and Bennett was fairly sure it had nothing to do with whatever physical pain the young man was feeling. ‘Why would anyone want to do this? Who would want to stab me?’
‘We don’t know. That’s what we need to find out.’
‘Were they trying to kill me?’
