“We’re told he had an eye tattooed on his forehead. What does that say to you?”
Cole frowned as he wrestled with the question. Mince and Scully. Well, Mince definitely. That eye was something else. “Um... not very clever, is it? I mean a distinctive tattoo like that?” He nodded. “Yeah. You could be on to something. Far-right extremists.”
“And what would their motivation be?”
“For doing the mosque? Revenge I guess. Like I said earlier, some locals round here ain't too happy with that lot. This is London. The East End. Proper London. Those women in their burkas don't belong here. Neither do them blokes in their white sacks that look like dresses. It’s an Osama look-alike contest round here sometimes. They say they should piss off back to Mecca. That’s what they say.” Cole paused. “Oh, sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Do you want...?”
She shook her head. “Do you think Muslims should return to Mecca?”
“No. No.”
“Do you think the government should allow ISIS brides back into Britain?”
“No way. They’re terrorists.”
“Do you hold the local community responsible for the deaths in South Kensington?”
“Thought that Arab was foreign?”
“Yes. But he lived around here. He was part of this community. He could have gone to that mosque. Does that give the far-right extremists a motivation to attack the mosque?”
Cole shrugged. “I guess. Maybe they thought these guys were ISIS supporters?”
Laura raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
“On a personal note, Lewis, do you regard it as payback for your brother Darren?”
“No.” Cole rubbed his nose. The initial shock at hearing of Mince’s involvement had worn off. Now he needed to deflect any attention away from himself. He had listened to several politicians bullshitting on TV, and he figured taking a leaf from their spiel would be the best way to go. Along with his brain wave of an apology to Alice on camera, nobody would suspect him of any association with Whitechapel.
He cleared his throat. “I, er, strongly condemn today’s attack on innocent members of London’s Muslim community. While I understand emotions are running high, I would appeal for people to be calm and let our police find the culprits and bring them to justice. I do not want anyone to take revenge in my brother’s name.”
Laura raised her eyebrows at him, and the hint of smile ran across her lips. “Do you think the far-right will listen to your message?”
“I’m not sure you can reason with extremists, no matter which side of the divide they sit.”
Laura took away the mike and gave the thumbs up to the camera guy.
“Is that it?” Cole asked. “You get what you needed?”
“That was fantastic, Lewis.”
“Good.” Cole flexed his fingers. “You know what, Laura? Would it be okay if I sent flowers to Alice?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should talk to her first.”
“Why? It’s just a nice thing to do. I feel like I owe her.”
“Uh...”
“I heard she was in a hotel somewhere in Ladbroke Grove. I can send them there.”
“Huh?” Laura looked at him askance. “How do you know that?”
Cole shrugged. “Only one decent hotel there. The Metro, right?” He watched Laura carefully for her reaction.
“But who told you?”
“Social media is a wonderful thing.”
Laura shook her head. “Yeah, right. Don't do anything. She may have moved out. I’ll call you. I need to talk to Alice first.”
Cole nodded. “All right. Thanks. This be on later?”
“Yes,” Laura said. “Watch the news. You’ll star again.”
Cole left them to it and walked away. He powered on his phone and when he glanced back, he saw Laura was talking to the camera again. The sneaking suspicion he had said more than he should followed him down the street, but at least he had confirmation on the accuracy of HardBoy97’s message. Alice was either already back home or would be soon.
Ten minutes later, he stopped to light a cigarette, and his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Birdy, mate?”
“What the fuck did you do, you prick?”
Cole dragged on the cigarette. “What are you on about?”
“Scully called me. Said you told him I was hard core. Wanted to hide in mine. I mean, what the fuck Cole? The anti-terrorist gestapo are after him. This is serious shit and I ain't having it.”
Cole tapped the ash from his cigarette and watched it disintegrate on the pavement. “What the fuck, Birdy? Scully was only looking for burners. I never said nothing about you being hard core.”
“Well, you better watch out, mate.”
“Why’s that?”
“I gave him your address.”
As Cole put his phone back in his pocket, he felt the blister on the palm of his hand throb with pain.
110
As the Xtra News van crawled through traffic on its way to base, Laura called DS Gilmore.
He didn’t sound pleased to hear from her. “What do you want now?”
“Sorry, Sergeant.” She hoped using his title would appeal to his ego. “I’m doing a piece on Alice Madsen, and while I know about her home assault, I was wondering if you had anything else I could use?”
“Laura, we’re SO15, not domestic.”
“Yes, but I thought there might be a link with South Ken.”
Gilmore sighed as if it he wanted to get shot of the conversation, and Laura gritted her teeth as she waited for him to say something. “All right,” Gilmore said. “They’re looking at males present during the South Ken attack who had friends or relatives killed or seriously injured. Working a revenge theory.”
“I see. Would Lewis Cole be one of those they're looking at?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I interviewed him... dunno... guess he seemed okay.”
Gilmore laughed. “Sure. They all
