Paula sat down on the desk next to Chris. ‘I don’t know. His brother was adamant that Aziz wasn’t into that stuff. According to Sanjar, Yousef was dead set against fundamentalism.’
‘We can’t judge Yousef on what his brother says,’ Kevin said. ‘Look at the London bombers. Their friends and families acted like they were gobsmacked. OK, I didn’t find a bomb-making manual in the bedroom, but I didn’t get that long in there, and some of the newspapers and books were in script I couldn’t read. We’ll have a better idea when the CTC have stripped the house back to the bricks and gone through every piece of paper.’
‘They’ll know,’ Chris corrected him cynically. ‘Who knows what they’ll decide to tell us.’
‘You don’t need them, Stacey said absently. ‘You’ve got his laptop and you’ve got me.’
‘Go, Stacey,’ Kevin said, punching the air. ‘Where’s the DCI, by the way?’
‘Down Scargill Street,’ Chris said.
‘Of her own free will?’
‘Kind of. I think Sam’s dropped a bollock. One of the men in black came in and said there was a problem with one of her lads. And since you’re sitting here, chances are it’s not you.’
Paula raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh shit. Poor old Sam. What do you think is worse? Pissing off the Imperial Storm Troopers or having to be rescued by the chief on the warpath?’
Carol had never seen anything like it. Scargill Street had been transformed into a citadel under siege. Armed police guarded every exit and a police helicopter hovered above, its spotlight pinning her shadow to the ground as she approached. It took a full three minutes for the guard on the back door to get her entry clearance, and when she walked into the familiar hallway, another armed officer was waiting to escort her. ‘I thought it was supposed to be secret, where you hold your terrorist suspects?’ she said conversationally as they marched through deserted corridors towards the custody suite.
‘It is a secret. We don’t tell the media.’
‘You’ve got a city-centre police station better guarded than Buckingham Palace and you think people won’t notice?’
‘Doesn’t matter, does it?’ he said, taking the turn that Carol knew would bring them to the cells. ‘They’re not allowed to print it.’
‘We’re not worried,’ he said, in a tone that said the conversation was over. He knocked on the door that led to the custody area. A moment passed, then they were buzzed in. The guard opened the door for her and stood back. ‘There you go,’ he said. ‘Someone will come and get you.’ He slammed the door behind her.
The familiar area was empty apart from the custody sergeant sitting behind the desk, his paperwork in front of him. To her surprise, Carol recognized him from the first investigation she’d ever worked for Bradfield Police. She walked over, saying, ‘It’s Sergeant Wood, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right, ma’am. I’m surprised you remembered. It must be, what…? Seven years?’
‘Something like that. I didn’t expect to see one of ours working the desk.’
‘It’s the one concession they made to the notion that somebody has to guard the guards,’ Wood said. ‘I’m supposed to make sure nobody’s human rights get breached.’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘Like I could stop them doing anything they wanted behind closed doors.’ Before Carol could reply, a loud buzzer sounded. Wood waved her urgently to one side. ‘Against the wall, please, ma’am. For your own good. Now you get to see the grunts in action.’
Three corridors radiated off from the custody area like the tines of a trident. The clatter of heavy boots on hard flooring came first, then four of them with semi-automatics at port arms came running round the corner at the far end of the corridor. All in black riot gear, all with shaved heads, all terrifying. They stopped outside a cell door and began chanting, ‘Stand up, stand up, stand up.’ The noise seemed to go on for a very long time, though it could not have been more than half a minute. Carol could feel the adrenalin coursing through her, the fearsome sound reverberating inside her chest, and she was one of the empowered. How much worse must it be for anyone under arrest?
The lead grunt threw the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. Three of them disappeared inside while the fourth filled the doorway. Carol could hear more shouting. ‘On your feet. Against the wall. Face the wall. Spread your arms. Spread your legs. Stand still, you fucker.’ On and on, an endless barrage of commands. At last, the door man moved away and two of his colleagues backed out of the cell. The third person out was a young Asian man, eyes wide, jaw set. He was trying to look through his guards, but they kept thwarting him by thrusting their faces towards his.
Once in the corridor, he was forced against the wall. One man behind him, one to the side, one in front. The fourth man ranged ahead of them, shouting, ‘Clear!’ every time he passed a doorway. They escorted the prisoner down the hallway, moving at a speed that made him take tiny little steps.
When the lead officer emerged in the custody area, he did a double take and stumbled when he saw Carol. ‘Identify yourself,’ he barked at her, swinging round and shouting, ‘Hold right there,’ back down the corridor.
Carol rolled her eyes. ‘Well, obviously, I’m a cop.’ She took out her ID and gave him name and rank. She jerked a head at Wood. ‘He knows who I am.’
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he barked in military tones. ‘All clear,’ he shouted. Carol watched while the prisoner was led into the interview corridor and hustled into one of the rooms there. The grunts took up post outside the room.
‘Jesus,’ Carol said, exhaling.
‘Something else, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I hate those bastard bombers as much as the next one, but I wonder what price we’re paying when we fight them like this,’ Wood said. ‘Before this afternoon, I was as gung-ho as anybody else. But what I’ve seen today…This special training they’ve had. I think they come out with three key words-intimidation, intimidation, intimidation. Anybody that gets dragged in and put through this and they’ve done nowt-well, it’s a recruiting sergeant for the mad mullahs, isn’t it?’
‘I’m losing count of how many times I’ve had to take a deep breath today,’ Carol said. ‘Do you know who I’m
