Contents ( 84)
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- Acknowledgements
‘Pan-Atlantic Airlines?’
‘That’s right, guv. But we’re not convinced about the ID. We looked into Bilal Essa. Checked the guy’s National Insurance and tax status. All of which has him older than the dead kid by maybe twenty years, and resident in Hounslow. CID have got men heading to the address now.’
‘Still a bugger of a coincidence.’
‘Course it is. I’m not saying there’s not something here. I’m just not sure what it is.’
‘And if this dead kid isn’t Bilal Essa? Do we know anything else about him?’
‘Not too much. The other residents at the address, they weren’t too talkative. Obviously not the most legal of immigrants is why. But we at least found that the dead guy shared a bedsit with Mansour.’
‘Shared a bedsit? Were they some sort of couple, you think?’
‘Not sure. Whatever they are to one another, they’re close. No doubt about that.’ Langley paused for just a moment. ‘Well, they were close.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. We’ve had reports of what could have been gunfire. Or it could be fireworks, in fairness. But it corresponds in time with Mansour handing himself in.’
‘Where?’
‘Close. On this street, in fact. But none of my guys heard it, and we’ve found no trace outside.’
Bull nodded his head in silence, assessing the information, trying to make sense of it.
‘OK. Get your guys to search outside again,’ he finally said. ‘Do it now. Before the street comes alive for the day. And have them do the full distance between here and Mansour’s bedsit. Understood?’
‘Yes, guv.’
Langley took off as efficiently as Nelham had done. It left Bull alone and so he took a seat in the station’s custody area.
He exhaled heavily as he began to think through all he had learned.
The obvious conclusion was low hanging fruit, there to be grasped. An Islamic terrorist attack on America’s national airline, targeting a high-profile political figure. The story wrote itself.
Nizar Mansour was an immigrant from an Islamic nation. Exactly the person that one side of the tabloid media warned the public to fear. Exactly the person that the other side encouraged the public to embrace.
Nothing is that simple, Bull told himself. People are people. Some are saints. Some are bastards. Most, they’re somewhere in between. And someone being from that part of the world – from that religion – it doesn’t make them guilty.
But it sure as hell doesn’t make them innocent, either.
Still, the obvious conclusion was there. Tantalisingly close. And so perfect that it seemed inevitable.
But something didn’t feel right.
‘The team are heading back out now.’ Langley had returned. ‘And CID are about ten minutes outside of Hounslow. So we’ll know more about Bilal Essa soon, too.’
Bull said nothing for a moment, as he added the sergeant’s update to the mess already in his mind. Finally he looked at Langley.
‘Do you think Mansour’s good for this?’
The question was clearly unexpected. It caused Langley to flounder.