“You are in no position to make demands, Faik. Look around.” He swept his arm left to right, encompassing the awful room. “Look where you are.”

“I want to . . .”

Duffy interrupted him. “No, Faik, it’s my turn now. It’s what I want.”

“They beat me with my hands tied. Why should I help you?”

“Because they’ll beat you again if you don’t. You need to focus on me, Faik. I’m your only friend here. I could give up right now, walk out that door and not come back, but if I do that, they’re going to throw you into a cell, and then there won’t be anything that I can do.”

“No,” he said. “I have nothing to say. I did nothing wrong.”

Duffy walked around the boy, slowly, and then leaned in close. “You took part in an armed assault on an Iraqi civilian installation. My colleagues have evidence to suggest that the operation was organised by the Promised Day Brigade. That’s a terrorist organisation, Faik. You know what will happen to you if you are found guilty of being a member of a terrorist organisation, don’t you?”

“I am not . . .”

He shouted over him: “It’s time for you to shut your mouth, open your ears and answer my fucking questions.”

The boy shrank away from him.

“Why were you and your mother protesting, Faik?”

“Because it is not right what they do.”

“They?”

“The people who run Energy City.”

“And what do they do?”

“The jobs at the oilfields—those are Iraqi jobs. They have always been Iraqi jobs. Why do they bring in foreign workers when it is Iraqis who should be doing the work?”

“That is a matter of economics. It’s nothing to do with you.”

“We are hungry. We have no money. All we want to do is work.”

“You are a terrorist, aren’t you, Faik?”

“No,” he said.

“Tell me about the Promised Day Brigade.”

“I know nothing about them.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re lying!”

“No,” he said, “I am not.”

He took the photograph that was clipped on top of the list of prisoners and showed it to him.

“That there is Mr Muqtada al-Sadr. We know he’s been behind the attacks on foreign companies. What I want from you is where you met him and where I can find him.”

He paused.

Faik said nothing.

“Feel free to chip in.”

“I don’t know him.”

“You do. I know you do. If you tell me where to find him, I’ll make sure you get a cell to yourself tonight. A shower and a hot meal, too. You just have to tell me where he is.”

“I do not . . .”

Duffy shook his head. “This is a real shame. I’ve been doing this awhile and it’s always better if everyone is on the level, cooperating with each other. I was hopeful you might want to get yourself out of this mess. I’m disappointed in you.” He straightened out the ski mask. “Alright. Have it your way. Next question: Why were you carrying an AK-47?”