When they came by today they said they had news – some good, most bad. The good news is that the imam from Block 17 was arrested as an accessory in Nadia’s murder. ‘That calls for a beer,’ I said. ‘The thing is,’ they said, ‘now the whole estate has gone to shit, we couldn’t stand it any more, we had to get out.’ This was why they had come round, they couldn’t breathe there. On the one hand, you’ve the people living on the estate playing dead, waiting to see what happens before they make a move, on the other hand you’ve got people running round all over the place: the imam’s suicide bombers, his sleeper cells, Com’Dad’s informants, the cops, the CRS, people from all kinds of organisations, reporters, academics, rubberneckers, counsellors from City Hall, representatives from Sensitive Urban Areas all over France and one or two from Belgium. We’re all over the news. When the sink estates in Paris catch a cold, the whole of France ends up spitting blood. Everywhere you go on the estate you get ambushed. On their way here Momo and the guys were stopped and body-searched thirty times, questioned fifteen times, interviewed seven times, called in as backup three times, and once they managed to slip through the cordon. They came up with a brilliant way of getting rid of the TV reporters: whenever a journalist tried to talk to them they shoved Idir-Quoi to the front, stood well back and pissed themselves laughing.

‘When was the imam arrested?’ I shouted.

‘Yesterday,’ someone, I think it was Momo, said. ‘Some crack squad from the Rapid Response Unit they sent in from Paris pulled him in.’

‘They’ve got him bang to rights, he’ll go down for at least ten, that’s what Babar down the police station said to Rabah – you know, the guy who works in the supermarket.’

‘Yeah sure, dickhead! said Raymond. ‘My dad says that politicians are bound to get involved, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wound up getting a medal.’

‘One of Togo-au-Lait’s cousins who works as a cleaner for some government minister said they’re planning to release him. Apparently banging up an imam is like setting some paedo loose in a primary school, it’s just asking for trouble. Locking them up apparently just turns out more suicide bombers, meanwhile the imam’s inside phoning round every sleeper cell in France and getting them out on the streets, that’s right isn’t it, Togo?’ said Manchot.

‘Yeah, swear to God, my cousin heard the minister talking on the phone to some guy and pleading with him to make a conciliatory gesture.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked Momo.

‘It means what it means,’ said Manchot.

‘They should just kill the fucker,’ concluded Momo.

‘I agree, Momo, you’re a butcher like your father, I’ve no bone to pick with you.’