Mansour looked up for just a moment, meeting Bull’s eyes. It was a little more than an instant, but it was enough.

This guy understands everything.

‘If you could please reply to my request verbally that would be a great help. So that the tape can record your answer.’

Mansour looked up again.

‘I understand.’ His voice was low and dry. His accent was heavy, but his use of English seemed effortless. ‘And I want no lawyer, because I will answer no questions.’

Bull nodded in response. It was more than he had expected. The words used could seem arrogant – belligerent, even – but Mansour’s empty tone said otherwise.

There’s no fight left in him, Bull thought.

‘In that case, I need to give you the following warning before we begin. It’s called a caution and it’s something that we have to say – legally – before every interview. And I have to make sure you have understood it. OK?’

Mansour indicated his assent. Clear enough that the camera would have seen it. It allowed Bull to continue.

Mansour looked utterly disinterested as Bull recited the legal requirements. Was it arrogance? Acceptance of his fate? Or the reaction of a man who had already lost everything? Bull paused when he had finished to await Mansour’s acknowledgement.

‘I understand. And I will say nothing more.’

Bull ignored the final statement.

‘OK, well, let’s just make sure that we’re all clear about why we’re here. As you know, at four p.m. this afternoon, Flight PA16 – Pan-Atlantic Airlines from London Heathrow to New York JFK – was destroyed as the result of a bomb being planted upon the plane. What do you know about that?’

Bull didn’t expect a response. His question had been intentionally broad. Designed for the record. Those that followed would be more specific. Harder for Mansour to ignore.

He moved on to his first real question.

‘A little before eleven p.m. this evening, you entered this building – for the purposes of the tape, we are in Stoke Newington Police Station – and you informed the officers at the front desk that you had planted the bomb that destroyed Flight PA16. What did you mean by that?’

Mansour did not move a muscle.

‘Is what you said true, Nizar? Did you plant a bomb on that plane?’

Nothing. Not even a flicker.

‘Why did you say that you did, Nizar? If you’re not saying that now?’

Bull waited a beat before continuing. He took a few moments to observe Mansour’s breathing. It was short and shallow. The man was keeping himself under control; the sign of someone who had made a decision to which he intended to stick.

A resolve Bull was determined to test.

‘OK. Then let’s assume for a moment that you were telling the truth. Let’s assume you put the bomb on the plane. Where did you get the bomb?’

Nothing.

‘It’s not like you can pop down to Tesco and pick up military-grade Semtex, is it? So where’d you get it?’