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  The chief superintendent turned to DI Adams. ‘I will leave with lights flashing and sirens blaring, and go to MI5. I’ll stay there for fifteen minutes and then meet you back at Wood Street. A bit of a charade, but we can’t let anyone guess what we’re up to.’

  CS Pryke then hesitated but soon continued, ‘Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you part of the deal the commissioner struck with the head of MI5 is that we also get Jeremy Welby, an MI5 operative. He will be responsible for making sure that the interrogations, or perhaps I should say the interviews are done properly. Do not be fooled by his boyish looks. His CV is very impressive. He will no doubt turn up at Wood Street in due course. Remember, we must keep Mr Khan off the radar screens. The fact that he’s not here or at MI5 must remain our secret. Understood?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied DI Adams.

  DI Adams opened the boot of CS Pryke’s unmarked car. ‘Climb in.’

  Rafi did as he was told. He hated confined spaces, but this one he welcomed.

  Away from prying eyes the blanket was put over CS Pryke’s driver and the switch was made.

  Chapter 2

  Rafi was glad that he was only 5’ 9”; as it was a tight squeeze. His initial panic of being bundled into the small space had soon disappeared. The claustrophobic boot was definitely better than facing Mike and Andy.

  Their arrival at the City of London police headquarters in Wood Street was low-key. Kate parked in the covered rear car park.

  Rafi was motionless when she opened the boot. The rocking of the car had lulled him into a deep sleep. He heard a woman’s voice saying, ‘Wake up,’ and felt his body being shaken and prodded.

  ‘Christ, I thought you were unconscious and for a horrible moment that you’d been asphyxiated. Roll over and let me take your handcuffs off,’ said Kate. ‘And in case you have any ideas, let me point out that this is a secure compound. You are going to cooperate, aren’t you?’

  Rafi nodded. ‘Sorry to have scared you,’ he mumbled. ‘I haven’t had any sleep for a couple of days. I could have slept in a dustbin and not given it a second thought.’

  With the blanket draped over his head, Kate hurried Rafi though the back door. They made their way up the back stairs to a modestly sized office on the fourth floor.

  ‘This is where I work. Let me introduce you to Detective Constable Emma Jessop – my ever-helpful sidekick.’

  Rafi looked across the room and saw a beautiful woman sitting behind a computer screen. She had a mop of curly fair hair, light brown eyes and a disarming smile.

  Kate surveyed Rafi carefully. ‘First we need to get some ground rules sorted out. You are to remain with us until this is all over. You will keep a low profile. As far as everyone else is concerned, you’re being held by MI5. In the meantime Emma and I will try to make your stay here as comfortable as possible.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Rafi replied.

  ‘I think we need to get you cleaned up. A shower and a shave wouldn’t go amiss,’ said Kate.

  Rafi stroked his left hand over his rough stubble and nodded.

  ‘Would you like a coffee and something to eat?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Something long and cold to drink would be nice, please,’ Rafi replied in a hoarse voice.’

  Emma smiled, ‘Thirsty, are we?’

  Rafi nodded. He was badly dehydrated and hadn’t peed for what seemed like ages.

  Emma left the room and returned a couple of minutes later with a bottle of chilled water and a can of cold Coke. ‘I thought that this might keep you going.’

  He was going to like working with Emma. ‘What do I call you two?’

  The two women looked at each other and smiled.

  ‘Kate and Emma would be fine, Mr Khan,’ replied Kate.

  ‘Rafi, please.’

  ‘Done!’

  The phone rang. Kate picked it up and listened intently.

  ‘That was the commissioner. It seems Special Branch downstairs have found an eyewitness who was standing behind you in the queue at the cashpoint. She has confirmed that you put the cash straight into your wallet. It seems she was amazed to see so much money coming out of the machine and didn’t believe it would fit! Also, she overheard your conversation with the terrorist, and confirms that you simply gave him directions and handed back his A to Z.’

  Kate smiled. ‘This substantiates your claim that you were an innocent bystander. The commissioner says that we can treat you as a colleague,’ she paused. ‘Though he thinks it’s best if your presence here remains our secret. Please bear in mind that we lost good friends in the Bishopsgate bombing and our colleagues may not be as welcoming… And I am to ask, if you will cooperate fully with our enquiries?’

  Rafi remained silent as he took in the news.

  ‘Will you help us?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Yes, I’d be pleased to,’ replied Rafi – overcome by a sense of relief. ‘I am so sorry about your colleagues. Believe me, I want these bastards caught as much as you do.’

  ‘That’s good… And Mr Kahn – sorry – Rafi,’ said Kate, ‘Just so that there is no misunderstanding – you will use only those parts of the police station we tell you to… Is that agreed?’

  Rafi nodded.

  ‘Excellent, that’s settled then.’ Kate left the room, leaving Rafi to enjoy his drink. He looked around his new surroundings and found them to be typical of an older style office building: plain and functional.

  Kate returned clutching a pair of dark blue tracksuit trousers, some white jogging shorts, a pair of white socks and a Harlequins rugby shirt with the number 14 on the back.

  ‘Best I could find but at least they’re clean. I hope that they fit.’ In her other hand was a large white towel and a bottle of shampoo. ‘Unfortunately, I couldn’t lay my hands on a razor,’ she added.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ replied Rafi, ‘my wrist isn’t up to shaving.’

  ‘Follow me,’ said Kate.

  Rafi was taken off to a utilitarian washroom with an adjoining shower cubicle. ‘I’ll come back and get you in fifteen minutes,’ said Kate.

  Rafi beckoned her to stay. ‘Actually could I possibly have some help, please? I’m having problems getting my shirt off!’

  ‘That’s one of the worst chat-up lines I’ve ever heard,’ Kate said with a smile.

  Rafi hesitantly finished unbuttoning his shirt with his left hand and she helped him slide it off.

  There was silence. She stood there, looking at his back. ‘I’m sorry… I didn’t realise. How the hell did you cope in the boot of the car? The bottom of your back looks as if it stopped a runaway train… The bruises on your shoulder and arm look awful.’

  ‘You should see my legs.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me!’ Kate turned to leave. ‘Please lock the door when I’ve gone.’

  Rafi stepped slowly into the shower and stood under the flowing water, still holding the cold water bottle in his left hand. The warmth of the shower and the ice cold of the drinking water were pure bliss.

  He had no idea how long he’d been there when there was a knock at the door. It was Kate. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Yes. Give me a moment.’ At the third attempt he managed to wrap the towel around his waist with his left hand. He unlocked the door and stepped aside to let Kate in; she was clutching a first aid box.

  ‘I thought this might come in handy. I’m afraid there’s not much I can do for your bruises. She started to work on the grubby, wet Elastoplast dressing on his wrist. There was gauze underneath the sticky plaster bandage, which made removing it a fairly straightforward task. She cleaned his arm.

  Kate considered the swelling; his wrist was at least twice its normal size. The angry colours of the bruise spread up his arm towards his elbow and down to his fingertips. They matched the bruises on his shoulder, lower back and calf. She glanced at his wet hirsute chest. His physique, for a lightly built man, was surprisingly good, but – my God – he had taken a battering.

  ‘Do you have any water left?’

&n
bsp; He nodded.

  ‘You might like to take a couple of these. They’ll ease the pain.’ Kate carefully re-strapped his wrist. There was no gauze in the first aid kit. She hoped she wouldn’t be the one to take the sticky plaster off. ‘Would you like a sling?’

  Rafi shook his head. ‘Thanks, but no thanks; I may have some writing to do.’

  Kate raised her eyebrows. ‘Forgive me for asking, but how precisely do you propose to hold a pen?’

  ‘With difficulty,’ came Rafi’s modest reply. ‘Could I ask you a favour, please?’

  Kate noticed he’d started to blush.

  ‘I’m not very good at bending at the moment and my right hand doesn’t like gripping things. If I move over to a dry bit of the floor could you help me pull my shorts and tracksuit trousers up to my knees?’

  Kate pointed to a dry area of floor.

  Trousers and shorts in hand, Rafi walked slowly to the spot and dropped the two items of clothing on to the floor. It was a close-run thing between his towel unknotting and slipping down, and the shorts and trousers being pulled up.

  Kate had to smile to herself. She liked what she saw, despite the bruises all over his body.

  Minutes later Rafi was fully dressed, hair combed and looking and smelling like a normal human being. He ached all over, but despite his tiredness, he felt equipped to meet the world again.

  Back in Kate and Emma’s office he was shown to a desk. ‘This part of the fourth floor is your home for the foreseeable future,’ explained Kate. The Gents across the corridor is for now off bounds to the rest of the force here. That’s as far as you can go, understood? If you need to go elsewhere else, please ask.’

  ‘Will do,’ said Rafi.

  He was given a desk opposite Kate’s. Across the room, to his left, was Emma and to his right there was a large whiteboard and a pair of empty desks positioned back-to-back. Scattered around the room were a number of filing cabinets and there was a networked printer next to Emma’s desk. The room had a lived-in feel. Paperwork was everywhere.

  Kate looked across at Emma. ‘I think we need to tidy up. Any empty filing cabinet drawers?’

  Emma nodded. ‘OK, let’s collect all the paperwork that does not relate to this case and for the time being put it in the empty drawers.’

  Fifteen minutes later the room had taken on a minimalist look.

  ‘Nice work,’ said Rafi to them both.

  ‘Thank you… Now we can make a start and have a proper look at your USB memory stick. But first let me tell you more about the team you’ll be working with. Emma, who you have already met, has a first in something or other highly numerical from University College London and is great at finding things out. Point her in the right direction and wait to see what she uncovers. She’s our little Exocet missile. Before she joined us, she qualified as an accountant, so knows her way around things financial. We will shortly be joined by Jeremy Welby, who is being seconded here from MI5 to keep an eye on you and, no doubt, us, and to help where he can, but otherwise I know very little about his previous experience.’

  ‘It depends what you mean by experience,’ said a masculine voice from the doorway. ‘Mine is OK but I have recently spent far too much time undercover. My section commander Neil Gunton thought I might like a change of scene.’ He paused, then continued, ‘It seems that your commissioner pulled an impressive flanker on us to get our friend here sprung from Paddington Green.’Jeremy grinned and went on, ‘A good move, no doubt. My instructions are simple: “Help them get whoever is behind the Bishopsgate bombing. Find out what the terrorists are up to next and please make certain that Mr Khan doesn’t go missing.” Neil has offered us whatever support we require because, in his words, “This is a joint venture”. Basically, I’m here to help you get to the bottom of what’s going on.’

  Kate looked at Jeremy. He was in his early thirties and in great shape; his handsome tanned face and his boyish good looks were emphasised by a strong jawline. She introduced Emma and herself. ‘We’re part of a specialist team that looks into major corporate and financial fraud. We tend to do the research side of things and from time to time are allowed out! We report to Detective Chief Superintendent David Pryke who’s on his way back from MI5 headquarters, having given the press and anyone else interested in Mr Khan the runaround.’

  ‘I had hoped to get here sooner,’Jeremy hesitated as he decided on how much to tell his new colleagues. ‘I’d a couple of matters to deal with after this morning’s Joint Counter-Terrorism meeting. They think that you are part of an ITS, and are at Paddington Green.’

  ‘What do you mean by ITS?’ enquired Rafi.

  ‘Islamic Terrorist Syndicate – it’s our catch-all phrase for Islamic groups hell-bent on terrorist activities in the pursuance of their fundamentalist ideals.’

  Rafi nodded, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘As I was saying,’ continued Jeremy, ‘My boss Neil and I have been told by the head of MI5 to run with Mr Khan’s line of thinking. The head of Five reckons there are inconsistencies which need investigating – quietly – off other people’s radar screens. Neil’s section and I have stuck our necks out on this one, so Mr Khan I look forward to you proving your doubters wrong!’

  Jeremy stopped talking and looked around the room. ‘How many people know that Mr Khan is here?’

  ‘The three of us plus David, our boss, and Commissioner Giles Meynell,’ replied Kate.

  ‘Good. Let’s keep it that way. My section is briefed and will be able to provide you with back-up.’Jeremy turned to Rafi. ‘I look forward to hearing what you suspect is going on. By the way, you really pissed off my colleagues who interviewed you. It seems that you managed to evade their questioning for over sixty hours without any sleep and practically no food or water. I dropped by to see them before I got here. They looked absolutely knackered! They thought that they’d got you hook, line and sinker, and are now – how can I put it? – in the doghouse! They’d never seen so much evidence stacked against a terrorist suspect and have the bugger slip through their fingers. I’m sorry for the harsh treatment the guards gave you.’ Jeremy paused. ‘It seems that you were set up good and proper.’Jeremy looked at Rafi. ‘Mr Khan I hope we can forget Paddington Green and focus on unravelling what the hell is going on.

  ‘Fine by me, but do call me Rafi – please.’

  ‘Good; thank you,’ said Jeremy. ‘And by the way we have arranged for Jameel Furud to be put under surveillance in Morocco…

  Rafi suddenly remembered Mike and Andy’s comments about his sister, and looked across at Jeremy ‘On the basis of me being innocent, could you check that MI5 haven’t arrested my sister, and if they have, arrange for her release, please?’

  ‘A reasonable request… Leave it with me,’ replied Jeremy.

  Rafi smiled – a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

  ‘Kate what have you got planned for us?’ enquired Jeremy.

  ‘David should be back shortly. I suggest we then have a council of war to sort out our strategy. In the meantime I’ve asked Greg Thompson, our IT specialist, to pay us a visit to set up some more computers. He should be with us any time now.’

  As if on cue, Greg, a thin, bespectacled man of indeterminate age, walked into the room. ‘How can I help? I have arranged for two more networked desktops to be set up. Do you need anything else?’

  ‘When you have a spare minute could you ring Ray Isles, our IT gatekeeper?’ said Jeremy. ‘And Kate, who would you like to have in the loop with my section at MI5?’

  ‘Emma and me, please.’

  ‘Greg, please ask Ray to sort out the necessary encryption software so that MI5 emails and texts can be read. Also, please give him Kate’s and Emma’s mobile numbers.’Jeremy turned to Kate. ‘I’ll run you through the text message codes which will alert you when an important email has been sent.’ He turned to Greg. ‘Ray is a bit sensitive when it comes to his security software. If he stalls you, tell him you have clearance from the top,’Jeremy smiled. ‘You kn
ow how it is?’

  Greg nodded. ‘If that’s all, I’ll be off.’

  As he was leaving the room, Kate turned to her team. ‘Let’s get started. First how about we get Rafi to tell us what he really believes is going on. How long will you need to pull your thoughts together?’

  ‘A few minutes should do,’ came Rafi’s hesitant reply.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Jeremy. ‘That will give me time to visit Luigi’s, a small restaurant round the corner. Is it any good?’

  ‘Yes, but we tend to use the canteen downstairs,’ replied Kate.

  ‘I’ve been living off cruddy food for the past eight weeks,’ explained Jeremy, ‘I could do with something to perk me up; if it’s alright with you lot I’ll nip out to see what they do. How about I put the first lot on my card and after that someone else can have a go?’

  Everyone looked sheepish.

  Rafi guessed that expenses for food weren’t reclaimable. ‘Does anyone know where my personal effects and wallet ended up?’ he asked.

  Kate looked at Rafi. ‘We got you out of Paddington Green in a bit of a hurry. Sorry, I’ve no idea.’

  ‘I’ve a suggestion,’ Rafi continued. ‘Could you get Luigi’s to run a tab, and as soon as I’ve got my wallet back, I’ll pay the bill?’

  ‘Great plan Rafi. I’m going to enjoy working here.’Jeremy looked delighted and was off out the door.

  Kate and Emma looked a little surprised and uncomfortable.

  ‘I’m uncertain how to say this Rafi, but that doesn’t seem fair,’ said Kate.

  ‘I could do with some good quality food, and I owe you for getting me out of that hellhole. Don’t worry; I’m good for the money regardless. We’re in the City, remember? My word is my bond, and all that.’

  Emma smiled. ‘Most unusual, but thank you.’

  The door swung open and Jeremy entered, acting like a conjuror who was about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. He was clutching three bags with Luigi’s restaurant logos.

  ‘Here we are! Sorry for the delay. Luigi is a great chap. I’ve lined up a tab and have put it in your name, Kate. I hope that’s in order. Seems the guys downstairs were helpful when someone tried to break into his restaurant several months back. He’s very pleased to help in any way, any time of day. Who’s for coffee? And I’ve got orange juice, cappuccinos and some pizza… Help yourselves!’