‘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 pick 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.’

‘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.’

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.’